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#i guess what they mean is Hey are you a white man who strongly relates to rick sanchez well listen
gender-euphowrya · 3 years
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i’m kinda desperate for shows to watch these days so i’m giving archer a try and god it is So Ugly
#idk i thought i'd at least tolerate archer because i liked bojack horseman but God these shows are Different#like people in a bh facebook group i'm in were all like oh archer is also a good show if you liked bojack but#i guess what they mean is Hey are you a white man who strongly relates to rick sanchez well listen#like oh bojack is an alcoholic male jerk This was obviously the selling point so you'll love all shows with an alcoholic male jerk#i also started watching glow ? real talk does it ever like... get good#i don't hate it but it's kinda boring i expected it to be funny but it's kinda just#serious shmerious OH A JOKE back to serious gritty ASS serious again#like it has a very dull tone overall and i can't tell what it's trying to be#it feels like it takes itself way too seriously given the concept of the show like#people in what the 80s? trying to put together a female wrestling show#all these different girls coming together becoming wrestlers like it has SUCH potential for high comedy#but it kinda does nothing with it#it's a gold mine of absurd that doesn't actually deliver it's like if#if someone made an epic completely down to earth action-filled retelling of fucking monty python's life of brian#it's like you step into a clown car and the inside of it just looks 100% like your dad's suv complete with a pine tree air freshener#but yeah archer has a fucking ugly animation  style and yeah i knew before i started it but ugh there's 10 seasons of this shit???#it looks like realistic go animate#like i get that as a... comedy? show its animation isn't the focus at all but Come On#bojack horseman nailed the whole not-focused-on-realism simplistic animation#why can't archer look better than if ctrl+alt+del was made by marvel
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darks-ink · 3 years
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Pulse - Ectoberweek 2020
Another day, another AU from my ideas file. Warning for general Accident-related spookiness. Also look it’s the fic where I let my followers decide if I was gonna write Tucker POV or Sam POV.
Rating: Gen Warnings: - Genre: Friendship Words: 2,395 Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Ghosts
[AO3] [FFN]
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“So,” Tucker said, before falling silent. Hoped to prompt one of the others into speaking up instead.
“So,” Danny echoed. “What happened?”
“Why are you asking us?” Tucker flailed upright so he could look at Danny. “You’re the one who went into the Portal!”
“Well, yeah, but—” He gestured vaguely. “You two are acting weird. What happened after the Portal turned on?”
“What, you don’t remember?” Sam leaned forward, frowning at Danny.
Danny scoffed. “Obviously not.”
How could he not remember? That he’d come out of the Portal looking like he’d died, like the perfect image of a ghost? “Dude, you’re joking, right? How could you not have noticed?”
“Noticed what? Come on, just tell me!”
“He really doesn’t remember.” Sam reached over to tug on Tucker’s leg. “Tuck, what if it’s like a possession thing?”
“It’s not a possession thing,” Tucker dismissed immediately. “What kinda possession would change the host into a ghost as well. It’s just…” He trailed off.
Danny made a face. “I don’t think I like where this is heading. What do you guys mean, a possession thing? What happened, seriously?”
Honestly, Tucker didn’t think he could explain. And based on the look Sam was throwing him, neither could she. Still, he cleared his throat and tried. “Well, it was just… weird, y’know? When you came out of the Portal. You weren’t really yourself.”
“Your colors were all weird,” Sam continued at Danny’s quirked eyebrow. “Your suit had gone black with white gloves, your hair was crazy pale, and your eyes had gone green. And,” she flapped her hand, “there was also the fact that you glowed.”
“I… glowed?” Danny repeated, slowly and questioningly. “What, like a ghost?”
“Exactly like a ghost,” Tucker confirmed, crossing his arms and staring at Danny. He looked just like he always did. Warm and fleshy and not at all like what they’d seen just before. “And the way you were looking at us, you’d think that you didn’t recognize us. Either of us.”
“Weird.” Danny frowned, one hand closing around the wrist of the other. Almost like a nervous gesture, except one that Danny had never shown before. “I don’t… remember any of that. But clearly it went away. Right?”
“Yeah, no, exactly.” Tucker nodded quickly, uncrossing his arms so he could mimic an explosion. “There was a flash of light and then suddenly, there you were again. Back to normal.”
Danny hummed. “I… think I remember the flash of light? Maybe. But I thought it was the after-effects of the Portal.”
“Who knows, maybe it was.” Tucker shrugged, mentally crossing his fingers and hoping to god it was. “A one-off caused by the ectoplasmic exposure, or whatever.”
“We’ll need to keep an eye on it anyway,” Sam pointed out, shifting her eyes from Tucker back to Danny. “It might not happen again, but we don’t know what that was, let alone what kind of effects it might’ve had.”
“Right.” Danny nodded, once, strongly. “You two are here for the rest of the weekend anyway. We’ll see after that.”
---
The rest of the day passed by normally, and briefly, Tucker entertained the hope that it really had been a one-off. But during the night he woke to a bright flash of light, and lo and behold, there was the ghostly version of Danny again.
“Man, really,” he grumbled, rubbing the heel of his hand over his eyes to try and get the grit out. “You’re bright as hell, dude, couldn’t you have done this during the day?”
Danny’s glow brightened in response, his vivid green eyes narrowing in a frown. “I’m sorry?”
“Sure don’t sound very sorry.” And he didn’t. Mostly, he just sounded very confused. “Go wake up Sam, will you? If I’m suffering we all are.”
A slow, almost deliberate blink was his response, before Danny turned away to look at Sam. He shifted closer, his gaze wandering back to Tucker. Then, still watching Tucker, Danny stretched out his leg and kicked Sam in the shoulder.
Sam grunted, hand swatting at Danny’s leg. “I will kill you.”
“Um,” Danny said, pulling his leg back towards himself. And then continued pulling himself away from Sam, actually lifting off of his bed entirely, until he floated a foot or so above it.
“If you fall I’m not gonna catch you, dude,” Tucker told him, even though he probably would try to catch him, if Danny had gone high enough that he might hurt himself. Still, he didn’t need to know that. “Do you even know what you’re doing?”
“Yeah?” Danny turned to frown at him again. “Yeah, definitely.” He sounded plenty convinced, too.
Didn’t sound nearly as confident when Sam grabbed his arm suddenly, lunging up from the floor where she had been lying. Danny yelped, tugging himself free with a bout of something which Tucker was sure was ghostly intangibility.
“Alright, that’s cheating,” Sam claimed, opening her hand, still holding it out in Danny’s direction. “Give me your hand.”
“Why?” he asked her, slowly moving the hand back in her direction, eyes narrowed. They glowed brightly in the dark of the room. “What’re you gonna do?”
She snatched his hand up, fingers burrowing past the hem of his white glove. “Checking something.”
Oh. She was… oh.
“No pulse,” she reported, before moving her fingers to tug on the edge of Danny’s glove. “And this seems to be part of his body.”
“Well,” Tucker said, before pausing to swallow past the block in his throat. “I guess his pulse will come back when he goes back to normal? He seems pretty ghostly right now.”
Sam hummed, pinching the sleeve of Danny’s jumpsuit, ignoring the look Danny was throwing her way. “The clothes is a ghost thing too, I think. The Fentons always claimed that their shapes were simple and only had one layer, or something like that.”
“Right, yeah, I remember that.” Maybe they should’ve looked into the whole ghost thing a little more. Danny was looking very much like a ghost right now, and Tucker kinda wished he knew more.
Like if his friend was gonna be okay.
“I don’t understand what’s happening,” Danny said, flat and a little hopelessly. He jangled the arm Sam was holding, but didn’t seem very intent on throwing her off.
“Welcome to the club,” she said with a snort, pinching him again. “You don’t feel this?”
“No?” Danny frowned at her, utter confusion clear on his face. “Am I supposed to?”
“Something here seems weird,” Tucker commented. He paused. “Weirder than it already was. Danny, man, what is up with you?”
“Who, me?” Danny asked, twisting around to look at Tucker again. “I really don’t know what’s happening.”
Sam paused, releasing her pinching grip but still holding on to Danny’s arm. “Danny, what are you saying?”
“Danny?” he repeated, tone questioning. “Why are you calling me that?”
Tucker felt his heart stop. He stared at Danny, incredulously, but there wasn’t even the slightest hint of joking.
“Because… it’s your name?” he managed, feebly, not looking away from Danny. “You’re our best friend, Danny Fenton. Don’t you remember?”
The ghost of his best friend blinked at him, then at Sam. “I… no? I don’t remember anything.”
“Sooo… About the Fenton’s theory that ghosts don’t remember anything,” Sam said, voice quiet. Uncharacteristically shaken. “I mean… Before, Danny didn’t remember this either. It’s like… two separate states?”
“Oh, yeah, I remember now!” Danny exclaimed, still looking at Sam. “I saw you two earlier, briefly! But then light flashed, and now I’m here.” He looked around, curiously. “Where is here?”
Well, way to drive the point home, buddy. “Okay, so. The accident made it so that he’s, what, both human and ghost, and the two states just kind of switch around? Fuck, Sam.”
“I know,” she hissed back, cautiously releasing Danny’s arm. “Stay in your room, okay Danny?” Seeing him frown, she added, “That’s this room. Stay in this room, okay?”
“Sure,” he agreed easily, floating off to peer at some of the decorations Danny had in his room.
“Do you think we should tell his parents?” Tucker asked, scooting closer to Sam, keeping an eye on Danny. Or, Danny’s ghost, he supposed, since they apparently weren’t the same person. “I mean, if this starts happening more… He won’t be able to recognize them, or convince them of being Danny.”
Sam made a face. “Yeah, but… I dunno, Tuck, what if they try to hurt him? Experiment on him?”
They watched Danny poke around in his own room for a moment. Quietly, Sam continued, “Maybe he can hold it off. He didn’t shift until now, right? Maybe Danny’s control slipped while he was asleep. If we tell him to be careful he’ll stay out of trouble, right?”
“I don’t know, Sam.” Tucker sighed, deeply and wearily. “I really don’t know. Man, we’re just fourteen. Why are we dealing with this kinda stuff?” He looked over at Sam’s stricken face. “I mean— It’s not our fault. It’s not anyone’s fault, okay? Don’t blame yourself. We couldn’t have known.”
“Yeah, but—”
“No, Sam. Either everyone’s to blame for this, or no one is.” He pointed at Danny’s ghost, who was now trying to peel off one of the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling. “He could’ve refused to go in. I could’ve stopped him. His parents could’ve done a better job of locking up the lab, or the Portal, or anything. This isn’t just your fault, okay? Stop blaming yourself.”
Sam hummed, a disbelieving sound, but she didn’t protest, so Tucker would consider it a win.
Silence fell again as they watched the ghost frown at the sticky star on his hand. Then, almost hesitantly, he stuck the star to his chest.
“Man,” Tucker said, then paused when he realized he didn’t know where he’d been going with that sentence.
“Yeah,” Sam agreed quietly. Then, raising her voice some, she called over to Danny. “Hey, aren’t you tired or something? Let’s go to sleep, Danny.”
Again, bright green eyes turned to them. “I’m not tired,” he said simply. “Ghosts don’t sleep.” Then he frowned, and added, “I thought I wasn’t Danny? Not really?”
“Sorta kinda.” Tucker shrugged. “You’re like, his ghost, I guess? You don’t want to be Danny?”
“Seems confusing,” the ghost admitted, lowering himself until he floated at eye level to them. “He was Danny first, right? And I’m just his ghost. So I could be like… Phantom, or something.”
“Phantom,” Tucker echoed, dryly. “You really want to go by a synonym of ghost?”
The ghost in question shrugged. “Why not? And you said my—his—last name was Fenton, yeah? So it’s kind of a pun.”
Tucker groaned, even as Sam laughed, softly. “I should’ve figured, man. Your love for puns is immortal and undying.”
Phantom grinned at him, revealing green gums and pointed fangs, which Tucker somehow hadn’t noticed before. “Well, something had to carry over, yeah?”
“I guess,” Tucker agreed, sounding much more disgruntled than he felt. It was weird, yes, but it was also kinda nice, to see a little more Danny in Phantom. “Look, you might not need sleep because you’re a ghost, but Sam and I do.  Can we trust you to stay in this room and out of trouble?”
“Of course,” Phantom immediately assured him, before pausing. “Um. What constitutes as trouble, exactly?”
“Staying in this room should be good enough for now,” Sam said, gesturing around them. “But if anyone who isn’t us comes in, or knocks… I dunno, hide? Go invisible, maybe, if you can maintain it for long enough.”
“Your parents are ghost hunters. If they see you, they’ll probably try to hurt you,” Tucker tagged on. “You look just like Danny, but they’re not gonna stop and consider that, especially if you won’t have his memories to convince them.”
Phantom’s expression grew serious, and he nodded. “Got it. Stay here, stay out of sight.”
“Try not to be too loud, as well. Making a lot of noise will probably lead to them coming here to make sure we’re doing alright.” Sam narrowed her eyes. “And we’ll be trying to sleep, and loud noises don’t help with that.”
He nodded again. “Stay here, stay out of sight, don’t be loud. Anything else?”
“If you think you’re gonna switch back to Danny, maybe try to get yourself back to the bed? But other than that, no, I guess that that’s it.” Tucker sighed, sitting down on his pile of blankets. “Good night, Phantom.”
“Good night, Tucker, Sam,” he replied, floating away a little but not taking his eyes off of them. Apparently he was curious to see what sleep meant. Great. Brilliant.
Tucker shook his head, tucking himself back into his nest of blankets. From where he laid, he could see Sam do the same.
When they both remained still for a while, Phantom lost interest, going back to checking out the room. His room.
Through squinted eyes, Tucker watched him. Phantom hadn’t even noticed that he hadn’t taken off his glasses. Didn’t know the importance of it, probably.
On the other side of the room, Tucker could see Sam watching as well. They both knew damn well that they wouldn’t get a minute of sleep, not while Danny was… not Danny. While Phantom was around.
Tucker wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting from Phantom. He seemed to follow the Fentons’ ghost rules pretty closely, except he didn’t appear malevolent in the least. Even while he thought that no one was watching him, he did as had been asked: remained in the room, remained quiet.
Admittedly he didn’t do a great job of getting himself back to the bed when he shifted back, because light flashed and Danny Fenton collapsed onto the floor with an uncomfortably loud thud, but, well. He might not have noticed it was coming.
Tucker exchanged a grimace with Sam, then both of them got up to check over their best friend. Danny was fast asleep, grumbling under his breath when they nudged him. He would probably have a bruise from the landing, but hey. Could’ve been worse.
Wrapping his fingers around Danny’s ankles, Tucker watched Sam grab Danny’s wrists, and they lifted him back to the bed. And when they stepped away, Sam nodded at him, and said, quietly, “He’s got a pulse.”
Well. Tucker certainly slept better afterwards.
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karajaynetoday · 4 years
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everybody's got their demons, even wide awake or dreaming | part two
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Photo credit: Jess Gleeson
Hello friends! Hope you’re having a lovely day. It’s time for part two of this series! Lizzie takes her opportunity to interview Calum one-on-one in this part. If you need to catch up on Part One, you can do that here. Onwards! 
(This is a fem!OC story)
Word count: 3.2k
Warnings: none? i don’t think? 
More writing here | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here | if you’d like to be on my taglist go here
The day or so leading up to Lizzie’s one on one interview with Calum was a blur, as Lizzie tried to fix her body clock and orientate herself with how to get around LA. Her boss had offered her the opportunity to hire a rental car, but the idea of driving on the wrong side of the road was too much for Lizzie to stomach, so Ubers were the go. 
Her body sometimes overslept, sometimes woke her up at 4am, so Lizzie had downloaded a yoga and meditation app to try and sort herself out. She might’ve almost given herself a concussion after toppling over while trying to do a particularly tricky pose, but no one needed to hear about that. The bruises on her elbow were embarrassing enough. 
Danielle had sent Lizzie a text the morning of her lunchtime interview with Calum, confirming the time and place as they’d discussed. Lizzie had handwritten some notes for her questions, trying to contemplate what she could ask Calum that would differ to the others. Or maybe she should ask them all the same questions, and then in the piece she could compare and contrast responses? It was so hard to know what would make the best piece, especially with interviewing Calum in particular. Lizzie knew from watching other interviews, and in her group interview with all of the band the other day (and from back in their school days) that Calum was a man of few words. When he did speak, it was usually with purpose and thought, and made for some great content, but he wasn’t always particularly forthcoming. Which is why it had surprised Lizzie that Calum had volunteered for the first solo interview, but given Michael’s behaviour, she was glad to be continuing with the profile piece at all. 
It was a really warm day, so Lizzie had to forego her usual blazer and jeans in favour of a long green dress with blue and white flowers on it. Her hands were sweaty as the Uber pulled up to the café Calum had suggested, and something in the back of Lizzie’s mind suggested it wasn’t just from the weather. She’d always been an anxious person, but she’d gotten a handle on it recently; this whole LA debacle had brought it back with a vengeance. 
Calum was waiting for her just in front of the café, dark wayfarer sunglasses covering his eyes and his phone in his hand as he leant up against the brick wall beside the café door. He was wearing a grey hoodie and jeans, and nobody coming in or out of the café seemed to pay him any attention; but then again maybe people of Calum’s level of fame were just part of the furniture around here. It was near to Hollywood, after all.
“Hey, thanks for agreeing to meet me.” Lizzie’s voice wasn’t overly loud, but it still made Calum jump as he looked up from his phone at her.
“Of course, of course. I know I sound like a broken record, but we really are excited for you to do this piece. The new album era is something I’ve been looking forward to for a while, and - “ Calum began, smiling warmly at Lizzie, who cut him off by pulling open the café door.
“Before you start getting all meaningful and quotable on me, shall we get a coffee and take a seat?” 
“A woman after my own heart. Let’s do it. Pro-tip, the brownies here are to die for.”
The café was bustling, but most of the patrons seemed to be lining up for takeaway orders. Calum stepped ahead of Lizzie and slipped into a booth towards the back, near a frosted window, greeting the wait staff by name as he went. Lizzie scurried after him, apologising as she accidentally bumped into a tall man with her shoulder bag in her haste and he glared at her. Guess not everyone was as friendly as Calum, then. She slid into the booth opposite Calum, pulling out her notebook and phone as she went. 
“Is it okay if I record this? I’m not very good at taking notes.” 
“Straight into it, LL? At least let a man have his coffee first.” Calum deadpanned, and Lizzie felt her face fall before she realised he was joking with her.
“Of course, sorry. Let’s order. The brownies, you said? How big are they?” Lizzie pasted a smile onto her face, grabbing for the menu on the table in front of her.
“I have it on good authority that they’re perfectly Lizzie-sized. Calum-sized, too - a real multipurpose snack.” Calum was teasing her now, but also being completely serious, as he got the attention of a waitperson who came over to welcome them and take their orders. A skinny latté for Lizzie, an iced coffee for Calum, and a warmed up chocolate brownie with a side of coconut yogurt for them each. They fell into easy conversation, about the weather, and Calum’s neighbourhood, and the other pieces Lizzie had written, almost forgetting why they were there in the first place. When their order of coffees and brownies arrived, Lizzie suddenly snapped out of her feeling of ease when she had to push her notebook and phone over on the table and remember that she was supposed to be interviewing Calum Hood, 5SOS bassist, not catching up with Calum Hood, her Year 9 science lab partner. 
“Now that you’ve got your coffee, can I start recording?” Lizzie asked timidly, as she took a bite out of her brownie and audibly groaned at how heavenly it tasted.
“Depends. Will your brownie orgasm be mentioned in the article?” Could Calum say anything that wasn’t teasing her? Damn it.
“Maybe. Perhaps I’ll do a twitter thread of my trip food highlights, given that the profile piece will be under embargo until the album comes out.” Lizzie deadpanned right back, earning a smile and a small chuckle from Calum.
Lizzie hit record on her phone’s voicenote app, sliding the phone into the centre of the table. She flipped open her notebook to the page marked “Calum”, and she could see Calum trying to read her writing upside down.
“No spoilers, mate. I’ve got a strategy here.” Lizzie mused, angling her notebook so it was harder for Calum to see as he raised his hands in mock surrender.
“Well then, Ms Lawson from Junkee Australia, do your worst.” He flashed her a grin, before taking a sip of his coffee followed by a bite of his brownie (sans any groaning… that must only be a first-time brownie thing).
“So, in our chat yesterday, it was mentioned that this next album is, in some ways, a letter to your homeland, and a reflection on your journeys so far as individual artists as well as being 5SOS collectively. For you, as Calum Hood, what’s the main contribution or perspective that you feel you’ve brought to this album, and the band?” Lizzie saw a flicker of something in Calum’s eyes as she shifted into journalist mode easily, but he only paused for another sip of coffee before answering.
“I think at this point, my main contribution is balancing the collective contributions in the room. I have a lot to say, and I do a lot of songwriting, but I also think the others would agree that I’m also quite observant, so I can read a lot into things they’re saying, or not saying, and bring it out of them into the music. We’ve known each other for almost half our lives at this point, so we know each other better than anyone else, but when we work with other co writers and things like that it can be hard to feel entirely comfortable with the vulnerability you need to bring into writing a song or telling a particular story that day. I’ve got the rep as the strong, silent, shy type, I know - “ Calum paused and returned the soft smile Lizzie was giving him, as she nodded encouragingly. 
“But in interviews, when I’m being asked to explain myself and validate my artistic choices, I’m immediately more defensive and protective of it, because there’s something magical about the writing room, and the vulnerability that can only exist in that context when we’re songwriting, and creating that art. The end product, which is the song or the album or whatever, conveys the emotions in a way that I could never say them with words, and the beautiful thing is that so many people can listen to it and relate to it in ways that I’d never considered before. But that’s the power of it, you know? We make these songs to express ourselves, and fulfil our creative outlets, but it extends beyond that, and that’s the part that gets me.” Calum finished speaking and reached for another sip of his coffee.
“Right. The magic exists in the studio, and on the stage, and in individual people’s lives when they listen to the music wherever they are in the world, and it’s the connecting thread that brings you together with your fans, a moment that you can share even if you never meet.”
“Exactly, it’s the universal experience, and everyone has their own interpretation of what it means to them. Pisses me off when people try and dig to find out who we wrote a certain song about, or whatever. Sometimes it is a specific person or a moment, other times I make shit up to suit the vibe of a chord progression or a concept someone’s brought to the table. It’s a juicier headline if we name and shame, but it’s not fair to the person I’m writing about, especially if they don’t have a similar outlet for a right of reply, and it’s also irrelevant, because my meaning behind a song could be completely different to yours, but that doesn’t make it less valid.” Calum shrugs as he speaks, his tone calm and nonchalant. 
“Makes sense. The music can exist as art, and be open to interpretation, like everything in life. And with this album, and reflecting on your homeland… what does that mean, for you? Because 5SOS have lived almost their entire adult lives overseas, so I know it must be hard to self-determine a cultural identity that’s so strongly linked to somewhere you haven’t lived for so long.” Lizzie asks, munching down another bite of brownie.
Calum cocks his head to the side and rolls his bottom lip into his mouth, and Lizzie feels a lump rise in her throat. Had she phrased the question wrong? Was he mad? Had she struck a nerve? Fuck. 
“Sorry, we don’t have to - I mean, we can keep discussing the album in a different way if you’d prefer -” Lizzie started babbling, and she froze when Calum reached across the table and rested on hers reassuringly. 
“Breathe, Lawson. I just need a minute to think about a deep and meaningful response to your question. You’re fine.” Calum was speaking softly, and there was an apology of sorts in his eyes when Lizzie glanced over at him. She was about to ask him something else, when a waitress came over to check on how everything was going with their orders and offered a second round of coffees and Calum withdrew his hand from the table as he ordered another iced coffee to go, times two. 
“If you could have it ready to go in about an hour, that’d be great.” Calum flashed the waitress a smile, and she shot him a wink as she headed back to the counter to update his order.
“A whole ‘nother hour? You spoil me, Mr Hood.” Lizzie joked, downing the last of her coffee and desperately hoping to avoid any awkwardness in her remaining interview time with Calum. 
“Anything for a fellow Australian, mate. To answer your question, it’s strange, because yes I’ve never lived there full time as an adult, but there’s something about your home country and your hometown that stays with you, no matter where you go or how long you’re gone. Obviously, for me, my sister lives overseas, and neither of my parents were raised in Australia, but it still means a lot to me, because it’s home, you know? The industry there is… interesting, but I still think that if we didn’t have the background we all have as individuals and the band, there’s certainly a lot of decisions we’ve made and ways we’ve gone about things in our careers that are heavily influenced by our upbringings and the mindsets we all have from that experience.” 
“Home is where the heart is, right?” Lizzie offers, thumbing her notebook absently. 
“It’s true. But it’s also refreshing to go back and escape it all a bit, you know? None of my friends at home really give a shit about Calum from 5SOS. They just like hanging out with Cal, which is nice.” Calum shrugs, clasping his hands together on the table in front of him.
“Just Cal? Not cool guy Cal? C Dizzle Swizzle?” Lizzie bit back a grin, remembering the multitude of nicknames Cal had garnered over the years.
“Look, cool guy Cal is just my constant state of being. C Dizzle might make an appearance if I’ve had one too many, but either way, they’re just happy to see me. Or happy to tell me some home truths that I haven’t heard, or wanted to hear, so that’s important too. You can’t live in LA for as long as we have without having a good support crew to keep us grounded, you know? Even if some of the ones who mean the most to us are on the other side of the planet.” There was something in Calum’s eyes again as Lizzie looked at him, and she could tell it was more than what he was trying to say for the sake of the profile interview. 
She swallowed down one final bite of the heavenly brownie, and turned the page to find her next question. Lizzie couldn’t entertain the idea of asking Calum why Michael was mad at her, because it would break the air of professionalism she was desperate to maintain; also, she wasn’t entirely sure he’d even tell her. Calum and Michael had been inseparable in their school days, and Lizzie knew that their bond and sense of loyalty no doubt ran even deeper now than then, given all of their shared experiences, trials and tribulations to date. But Calum had always been so kind and patient with her, whether she’d accidentally ruined their Year 9 science experiment, or she’d nearly thrown up on his shoes at the Year 11 formal after party, or when Michael had stormed out of the studio a few days ago and he offered her his time for the first solo interview. Lizzie brushed off the train of thought, and continued with her interview questions for Calum.
The conversation flowed easily, and Lizzie could already feel the profile starting to come together in her mind. She jotted down a handful of notes on how to adapt her questions for Luke and Ashton based on Calum’s responses, and before they realised how long they’d been chatting, the waitress returned with Calum’s two takeaway iced coffees. 
Lizzie asked the waitress for the bill, but Calum waved her off. 
“I’ve got it, Lizzie. Don’t stress.” 
“But I can expense it! I have a receipts app, and everything!” Calum laughed at how excited Lizzie seemed at the concept of submitting a work expense claim.
“Okay, fine. You win this round.” 
Lizzie pressed stop on her phone recording, and reached for her bag to slide her notebook in. The waitress returned with the bill, and Lizzie handed her travel bank card over, drumming her hands absentmindedly on the table while she waited for the waitress to come back with her card and the receipt. 
“Lizzie?” Her head snapped up as Calum spoke. 
“He’s not… I know it seems like he’s really mad at you, but he’s not.” It took a moment for Lizzie to register what Calum was saying.
“He’s not mad at me? He refused to speak to me and stormed out of the room the first chance he got, but he’s not mad? Right.” Lizzie couldn’t help but sound bitter as she spoke.
“I can’t speak for him, but I know him. He’s not mad, he’s just hurt about everything.” Lizzie could tell Calum was being very careful with his choice of words, and she eyed him curiously across the table.
“What does he possibly have to be hurt about? He’s the one that -” Lizzie catches herself halfway through her sentence, and squeezes her eyes shut as she inhales deeply.
“Here’s your receipt and your card back, miss. Thanks so much for visiting us today, have a lovely day!” Lizzie blinks and squints up at the waitress, who hands back her card and a paper receipt. Lizzie mumbles her thanks, and goes to stand up and slide out of the booth, and Calum follows her out of the café.
“Lizzie, I didn’t mean to upset you -” Calum’s apologetic tone had Lizzie spinning on her heel to face him once they’re through the doors of the café. 
“You didn’t, Calum. It’s fine. I’m here to do a job, and I appreciate your time today, I really do. Michael and I… I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it, okay? I know it won’t be easy, but for now, I just want to focus on getting the best interview content I can from you all. That’s why I’m here.” Lizzie wrings her hands nervously, and she can feel how sweaty her palms are.
“Is that the only reason you’re here?” Calum’s tone isn’t teasing, or harsh. It’s genuine, curious, soft. He’s not moving as he stands in front of Lizzie and gazes down at her from his full height. 
Before Lizzie can answer, Calum’s phone starts to ring, and he casts her another glance before stepping away to answer it. While he’s chatting to whoever’s on the other end of the line, Lizzie decides to order herself an Uber and make her way back to the hotel so she can make a start on transcribing the interview with Calum. Because that was why she was here, Lizzie told herself in her head, stubbornly. Didn’t matter about the feelings in her stomach, and the tightness of her chest. She was there to write a profile about a band, nothing more, nothing less. 
“I’ve got to go and meet Ash at the studio, are you all good from here?” Calum’s question broke Lizzie out of her internal dialogue. 
“Yep, all good. Thanks again for your time, Cal. I really appreciate it. I think it’s going to be a great piece, and I’m intrigued to see what comes out of the other interviews. All of them.” Lizzie’s pointed tone isn’t lost on Calum, and he grimaces slightly at the fire he seems to have ignited. Ah well. Lizzie and Michael had to sort their shit out sooner or later, right?
Right? 
Calum was trying to convince himself as he strolled down the street towards his car, pondering if he’d made things better or worse between Michael, his best mate through almost his entire life, and Lizzie, the girl that he’d been sure Michael would love forever, but had walked away from in a shadow of hurt, betrayal, and disbelief. The girl that apparently had no idea Michael felt that way, or that if he did, it wasn’t justified. Someone’s side of the story just wasn’t adding up, but Calum wasn’t sure whose it was. Not anymore.
Taglist: If there’s a line through your name, I couldn’t tag you, so please message me to let me know your new URL or what the go is!  @suchalonelysunflower @blackbutterfliescal @redrattlers @loveroflrh @spicycal @notinthesameguey @metalandboybands @cheekysos @ashton-trash  @another-lonely-heart @queenalienscherrypie  @becihadshawn  @allthestarsandthemoon​ @wheniminouterspace​
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Text
The PR Girl - Charlie Coyle
Summary: Charlie meets a mysterious yet beautiful and playful girl. He later finds out she’s a friend of the team staffs and meets her few more times before taking it further.
Note: I hope I somehow managed to cover the “worker’s friend” aspect. This is honestly my favorite thing I’ve written so far and writing it was so much fun. Thank you for requesting 🐻💛🌈💘
Words: 2070
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“You are a mystery to me, yet so familiar. Like a song I’ve never heard before, and a tune I’ve known my entire life.”
Charlie didn’t mean to stare at her for so long and so often. Hell, he never looked at any girl so many times before. Sure, he met quite a lot of beautiful ladies but not a single one of them captured him the way she did. It wasn’t his fault he couldn’t take his eyes off her, she was enchanting. She looked sweet and soft, yet she would probably fight with the whole bar if she had to. Her skin was glowing, and her tanned skin looked heavenly in the lowlight of the bar. She was for sure the most beautiful woman he ever saw. He couldn’t get enough of her. Her dress went up every time she moved in the rhythm of the music or whenever she sat down and crossed her legs under the table. He enjoyed the view at her long toned legs. He smiled to himself when she threw her head behind laughing at something one of the men who kept her company said. 
His heart skipped a beat the first time she caught him looking at her, she looked him in the eyes and gave him a daring look. Charlie realized she must’ve felt his gaze on her body the whole evening. But it didn’t look like it bothered her, she enjoyed it. She knew she was attractive, and she liked to act cocky around men, out of pure boredom usually. She enjoyed how easily she could wrap any man around her finger, and she laughed at their naivety.
Charlie together with most of the players and some of the team staff were having a little party. Charlie knew for sure the mysterious girl wasn’t part of the team staff and he was almost sure he never saw her at the TD Garden before. He would’ve known if one of the boys brought her with them. She truly fascinated him.
When Chris joined Charlie at the table he got caught up in the conversation and forgot all about her and so when he finished his bottle of beer and turned around, he found himself disappointed when she wasn’t there. He cursed himself for not finding enough courage or rather audacity to go and talk to her, he wished he looked at her more often and he most importantly wished he knew who she was and who she came with. He didn’t mean to be creepy but if love at first sight existed then this was it. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with just adoring someone, right?
Half an hour passed, Charlie was alone, sitting on the bar chair, sipping lukewarm beer completely lost in his own thoughts, half asleep when he noticed someone sat down next to him. He could smell the perfume even though the scent of alcohol and smoke strongly lingered in the air. Much to his surprise, it was her. She didn’t look at him, she didn’t even acknowledge him. She just sat there with a shot of whiskey and smiled at the bartender who was skilled enough to randomly start a conversation - something that Charlie wished he could do too.
“I’m Y/n,” she put down the empty glass leaving a red lip stain on it and turned around at Charlie. “Charlie Coyle, right?” She smiled.
“Yeah, yeah that’s me.” He mumbled nervously and she chuckled sweetly at his shyness.
“So, you can talk after all hm? I almost lost all my hope that you would ever talk to me.” Charlie couldn’t tell if she was serious, joking, teasing or if she was being just rude and trying to embarrass him. “I think Chris exaggerates a lot.” She added after a while.
“I’m sorry? I don’t think I understand.” Charlie shook his head, nervously ran his fingers through his hair and took another sip of the disgusting warm beer just so he didn’t have to look at her.
“We were just joking around. He said you couldn’t stop looking at me and he swore you wouldn’t find the guts to talk to me.” She put her hand on his shoulder and smiled at him again to calm him down. She noticed how uncomfortable he looked and almost felt bad for acting the way she did. But really just almost. “Billy invited me. He said it would be fun but I lost him almost immediately. Then that group of men invited me to their table. And now I’m here.”
Billy. Billy? Billy from the PR team!
“I think he’s probably just talking with someone who could make the Bruins look even better in the public eye.” Charlie finally relaxed when the tone of her voice changed and she wasn’t acting as cocky anymore.
“Even better? Are you sure about that?” She raised her eyebrow at him and then took a sip of yet another shot of whiskey. “Ever heard what people think about the Bruins?” She laughed.
“It’s pretty much all on Marchand. The rest is quite nice.” Charlie and Y/n both turned around when they heard a loud “hey” and laughed when they saw Brad pretending to be hurt that Charlie was talking about him behind his back.
“Are you and Billy dating?” Charlie couldn’t believe this sentence really left his mouth and he felt embarrassed for a second for forgetting his manners.
“Dating? No, we’re just friends. Met in school a couple of years ago.”
“So, you’re in the public relations too?”
“Yeah, got my bachelor’s degree in public relations and surprisingly stuck with it.” She laughed at herself, shaking her head in disbelief. “I hardly ever stick with something... or someone.”
“You get bored really easily huh?”
“Bored, tired, fed up. I don’t even know anymore. I guess it’s just hard for me to find things or people who can keep me satisfied.”
“Was that a Grease reference? I swear if Brandon was there, he wouldn’t shut up about Grease.”
As the night progressed Charlie got so used to her personality that he could fully relax and talk to her without fear of messing it up or saying something inappropriate. She wasn’t of the sensitive type.
“Well, pretty boy, it was nice talking to you.” Charlie watched her long toned legs carry her away from him, she looked so effortlessly sexy and beautiful, the high heels she wore added to her charm. All she left behind was a napkin with her name written in cursive and a phone number on it.
It took Charlie ten days to text her. He debated whether it was not too late and that maybe not texting her at all was a better option. But after he talked to Chris who pretty much told him he would be an idiot if he didn’t, he changed his mind and quickly texted her. She replied five minutes later.
Pretty boy can write texts too? You keep surprising me ;)
Charlie tried to fight back the smile forming on his face, but he couldn’t help it. He enjoyed her snarky comments. They ended up texting for the rest of the day and then every day for five days straight. Charlie learned she worked in a big company, got a great position after her internship and she was currently dealing with shit tons of papers - her words, not his. She came from New York, lived alone in an apartment complex three blocks away from Charlie’s place. She had no pets although she wished she had a dog. She was 25.
Charlie and Y/n met a couple of days later when she just came from work and he was on a way home from Brandon’s where they played video games. They met at the newest grocery store and instead of continuing in shopping they ended up going to the nearest restaurant for dinner. She had a full face of makeup, her long hair was straightened, parted in the middle. High heels and red lipstick reminded him of the first time they met. Charlie noticed the men staring at her, adoring her beauty and felt quite jealous as if they were checking out his girl. Charlie, just as other men glanced at her as much as it was possible but unlike them, he was the one sitting in front of her.
She was playful around them, she enjoyed the attention she was receiving for a bit but got bored of it soon. She started acting completely different and focused on Charlie. She was sweet and kind and funny.
The third time they saw each other was at the TD Garden. Charlie saw her on his way to the locker room talking with Billy. She had a pile of papers in her hands and it seemed like they were going over something important. Charlie wasn’t sure if she saw him, but he decided not to say anything and disappeared in the locker room.
When he was on the ice, he spotted her in the lodge with Billy. Charlie just realized it was the first time he saw her in jeans and a Bruins hoodie, hair in a high ponytail but the red lipstick was still present on her lips. She smiled brightly when she noticed him and held out a sign.
THE NICEST GUY(s) IN THE LEAGUE.
There was a black and white picture of the whole team, Charlie’s face framed in a red heart and Brad had angel wings and a halo above his head. It was made to look a newspaper and it was the nicest sign Charlie saw - though he could be biased.
After the game, Charlie hoped he would see her somewhere around but found Billy instead, waiting for him to give him the newspaper sign.
“Charlie? Can I talk to you for a minute?” Billy asked and continued talking after Charlie nodded. “I know it’s none of my business, but I noticed that you and Y/n talk quite a lot lately,”
“Wouldn’t say quite a lot but yeah,”
“Look, I know her for a few years now and I know how she is around men and you know... she likes the attention but she’s a really great girl. It’s just an act you know? She never takes it too far.”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed she likes the attention, but I never thought she sleeps around... not that it’s any of my business if she does.”
“I’m just trying to say that if you like her then don’t let it scare you,” Billy chuckled. “She usually calms down when she gets to know someone.”
The fourth time they met was when she spontaneously knocked on his apartment door with a bottle of wine for them to sip throughout the night. She wore black faux leather leggings, a simple white shirt, and a red sweatshirt. Her hair was in a low bun and she had no makeup on. She was just as beautiful as any other time he met her. They sat on the floor and talked while sipping the wine and they both felt unusually comfortable in each other’s presence. A rare connection between two people who hardly knew each other but could talk about anything with ease. It felt like they knew each other before.
“I see you kept my newspaper,” she smiled as she glanced at the sign she made for him. “I did a pretty good job, didn’t I?”
“You sure did,” Charlie smiled at her and adored her face before she turbed around to face him again. “Where did you go after the game?” He had this question on his mind for a while and couldn’t wait to get an answer.
“My sister broke up with her asshole boyfriend and wanted to meet,” she shook her head. “She drove from New York to Boston and stayed for a couple of days.”
“Go on a date with me,” Charlie blurted out and completely ignored the topic of their conversation. Maybe it was the alcohol that gave him the courage to ask for what was on his mind, maybe it was because he really wanted this a lot or maybe it was the power of the moment between them. “Please.”
“Okay.” She whispered, got closer to him and kissed him softly.
“I gotta say a thank you to Billy for bringing you to that party,” Charlie laughed and kissed her again.
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spiderdiva · 4 years
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If youre confterable with it, id love to hear more about your DID (no pressure tho, if youre uncomfterable with it i completly understand)
Yeah, sure!
DID kinda makes up my whole life so PFFT I'm not too shy in sharing it - online anyway. This is gonna be long so! Brace yourselves!
There are 7 main ones, which include myself, Celine, Mark, Elliot, Damien, Erek, and Alastor. There are some others that come around sometimes, or that linger and pop in every once in a while, but that's our main group'a babes.
Not all of them have blogs, or at the very least don't Use them often (they focus their energy elsewhere), but hey! Check em out I guess! Celine is a little antisocial and Erek is rather shy but most of them are relatively approachable!
Most of us are fictives, which means we're alters based on fictional characters (I'll give you a single guess as to who I might be). It's been this way for as long as I can remember. We've changed a lot over the years, Celine and Elliot both having started off as L Lawliet fictives and yet going in two completely opposite directions in terms of personality, presentation, interests, etc.
You may notice that Mark is obviously based on the YouTuber, but he's actually 💫 Actor Mark 💫 from WKM and the overlap is a little awkward but it's Fine PFFT! He does kinda toe the line of factive (an alter based on a real person, usually a celebrity), but he's Not Quite. Factives are valid anyway, psychologically speaking, so.
I've been here the longest (and lemme tell ya, the IDENTITY ISSUES of Angel not existing SUCKED. I legitimately settled for Juuzou Suzuya if Juuzou Suzuya had more pink eyes, pointed teeth, and freckles. DEADASS.), then Celine, then Elliot, Erek, Damien, Mark, and Aries. Aries is our newest member but also our most powerful and system-respected, which is saying something considering we all basically WORSHIP Celine! Aries is the strongest presence we've ever had.
I guess I'll give ya a quick rundown on each babe and what they do, who they are, etc.
Y'all know me so we'll skip that -
Celine is our emotional health protector. She was the only protector for about two years before Erek came into the picture as the mental health protector. She's 23, nonbinary (he/him, she/her), and grey-aro. Within the system, however, she's polyamorous, married not only to me, but Mark as well, and is dating Elliot. (A lot of us are intersystem dating because we are just :/ In love with each other. I'm the main culprit - take me away, boys). She has 0 interest in a physical relationship and is actually a little revolted by the idea. Her safety is here, within her system, and she likes it that way.
Celine is cold, apathetic, and calculated. Her symbols include ice/snow, lions, tarot cards, a crystal ball, and the moon. She takes her job very seriously and has little to no interest in interacting with people, other than to do her favorite thing : cut them off. Her energy within the system, however, is starkly different. She's curious, even warm, caring, and loving. In her eyes, we are her system. Hers to protect. We are her people, her subjects, and honestly we love that for us HAHA! Celine's love is very special, and if you've managed at all to gather her respect, consider yourself lucky!
Damien is Celine's older twin brother. He's completely opposite of her in terms of personality, though they both have the same stunning grey eyes and raven-black hair. He's much more stocky than his curvy, lithe sister, and a couple inches taller, too. He's, as far as he knows, a cismale, but has also dabbled in the realm of nonbinary. He's homosexual, polyamorous (as most of us are), and is married to both me and Mark.
Damien's warmth is a stark contrast to his sister's cold, cutting-edge personality. His symbols are the rain, bowties, blueberries, penguins, and wild flowers (specifically with dew on them!). He's bubbly and excited, loves hugs and people, and is the only one of us that is any sort of devout religious. He believes in love above all, and just wants to see those around him happy. He does, however, have a Side to him. It's a playful side, but a side nonetheless. Damien is beloved in the system, to the point where we make fun of him to remove him of his power. In return, he acts like a kicked puppy, which breaks our heart and returns his power once again. He's so soft and gentle and MANIPULATIVE!!! MANIPULATIVE!!!!!!!
Elliot is next, and along with me, is a host of this system. Elliot and I do the brunt of the fronting, and this body is the most "ours." What I mean is, Elliot and I both see the body as our own, whereas the others see it more as "Angel's" or "Elliot's" body (though mostly mine, as I front the absolute most and have been here the longest). He's 22, also with black raven hair and grey eyes. He's much more pointy than like. Any of us. With a very angular face. He's just barely taller than Celine, and is shorter than Damien. He's a cismale (as cis as you can be in a trans body, he adds. I identify a little more with being trans, but he's... Getting there. He says he's not ready to part with his cissona yet PFFT). He's homosexual, polyamorous, and is married to me and dating Celine.
Elliot is the self-proclaimed BDSM man. The underaged alcoholic (as we are 19 physically). He basically acts like Husk if Husk were a hardcore BDSM Dom - SNORTS. He's pretty dry humored, never capitalizes his letters because "fuck capitalism", and most of his identity comes from being a Dom :/// His symbols are a whip, booze, his hat, his twink pin, handcuffs, and panthers. Despite his NSFW and mildly problematic behaviors, he's actually pretty sweet, especially to children. He's the oldest (adoptive) triplet of Mark and Erek, and together they make The Chipmunk Trio (with Theodore being replaced by his forbidden BDSM counterpart Xavier). He's really playful, albeit in a very monotone way, but he and Aries clash like MOTHERFUCKERS.
Mark (called Markus by Celine, though he insists that isn't his name) is the second oldest triplet. He very strongly resembles YouTuber Markiplier, but as stated before he is the 💫 Actor Version. 💫 Therefore, he has a lot of scars all around his body. He has dark brown hair, that's longer than Now Mark keeps it. He's about the same height as Elliot. Cismale, pansexual, polyamorous, married to me and Celine.
Mark is very playful, but also very delicate. He has a lot of regrets, a lot of self loathing, and a lot of depression. He tries not to dwell on it too much, though, favoring silly things like memes or being boisterous like the Alvin in him desires. He likes affection and is a contender for the most affectionate of all of us! He's the self-proclaimed spokesperson of the system, and likes to answer questions or act like a sort of secretary. He's very loving and genuine, but also so so frightened. He says he's a big strong man that fears nothing, but this is only half true. His symbols are stars, microphones, stage lights, a red silk robe, cherries, wine, and chicken nuggets.
Erek is the youngest of the triplets but arguably the most sensible. He really brings up the rear as Simon, not only being the most level headed of his brothers, but of the system as well. He's the mental health protector, a well-known mediator. He tries to keep balance between black and white, understanding and moving on, here and there. He's the second tallest alter we have, standing at around 6'3. He's second only to Aries, who is 9 ft tall. He's a cismale, homosexual, and married to me.
Despite Erek's sensibility, he's the most shy of the system, which means he sometimes avoids confrontation (especially when other protectors take the wheel into their own hands - he trusts them enough, anyway). He speaks with a stutter, is always hungry, and 9 times out of 10 just wants to go home. He likes plants and the cottagecore aesthetic, which are part of his symbols. Succulents (as well as other plants), Arizona teas, overalls, leg prosthetics (as he has no feet), and pangolins are among these symbols as well. He's nurturing, patient, and soft, with a soft spot for books and the gentle things in life. He's probably the second most beloved, next to Damien.
Last but certainly not least is Aries! He's a big creepy spooky demon man that closely resembles Alastor in personality and interests. Celine has said that, "if anything, Aries is a repressed Alastor fictive, in order to keep [Angel's friend] safe and happy." I don't know what to do with this information but it sure is there! He's the physical health protector, ready to throw down at all times and finding great joy in the idea of such a thing. He has two sets of horns : a set of ram horns and a pair that go straight up from the top of his head. He adorns little bobbles and jewelry along his horns, giving him an almost regal look. He's a cismale, grey-aroace, but whoawhat? Married to me, HAHA Listen, I'm a catch and everyone in this system knows it.
Aries has an affinity for the macabre, loving taxidermy, death, murder, and loves the Other Mother from Coraline. So much so, in fact, that he sewed buttons into his own eyes, and occasionally prompts us to do so as well. He's certainly our most morally dubious, but he takes his role as a protector very seriously. While he and Elliot have clashed before, saying only they have clashed before would be just plain incorrect. While Celine has always been interested in him due to his power, the others of this system (including myself) were a bit wary of it. He has the ability to manipulate emotions and, in one case, completely erase the existence of an alter (usually more Celine's thing). The triplets were all rather on edge about him, Erek due to jealousy, Elliot for Husk-related reasons, and Mark because his brothers were in distress. However, in the 6 months that he's been here, he's done well to keep things sedated, and now even gets along with everyone relatively well! He does have a bad habit of frightening other alters that decide to pop by, however... His symbols are the upsidedown cross, the upsidedown pentagram, buttons, rams (and their skulls), fire, and sharp weapons.
Um! Yeah! That's a kinda quick ("quick") meet-the-babes for ya! I'd be happy to answer other questions, or direct you to other alters' blogs so you may ask them directly! Maybe Aries will finally make a blog.
I hope this was all. Good Enough and that I didn't waste your time, anon, PFF!
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heartofsurgingflame · 4 years
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hey hi so basically would you please do us all the honor of maybe saying your opinions on all the characters of tcomc? I know you love V4, just curious about your opinions on everyone else
*CRACKS KNUCKLES* ok so im gonna put this under a readmore because theres a good amount of these bitches. i’;ll look on wikipedias list of characters so i dont forget anyone
dantes/monte cristo: I LOVE HIM A LOT ACTUALLY, i know i dont talk about him as much as i talk about veeyfour partly because everyone likes him so everyone talks about him but theyre tied for my favorite character .... i relate to him a lot and i want him to be happy :(
abbe faria: i dont tend to like static characters often but the concept of an old guy you meet in prison who knows everything and adopts you, and also hes a priest, is so fucking funny so i have to like him. rest in peace my old bro
bertuccio: he sucks because hes mean to v4- just kidding i enjoy him. he’s a good guy i think, definitely a better person than v4, only thing i can really complain about is his whole “oo benedetto is a nasty little man because i didnt hit him” for personal reasons i strongly dislike that but hey it was the 1800s
luigi vampa: ok so hes one of those people who you can only refer to them by their full name. i think hes good as well. wise bandit leader. monty how do you even meet these people
peppino: oh god i dont even remember this one that well sorry
ali: don’t like that he exists..... slavery’s bad
baptistin: dont remember forming an opinion on this guy either
jacopo: he’s cool i guess. i like how they changed him in 2002. absolute bro
haydee: THAT GIRL IS DAUGHTER TO ME i used to be ehhh on her but then i realized i just don’t like that she and monty get married. she’s fucking good
mercedes: *WAILING* definitely one of my favorites i get so emo over her i really wish she had a more fulfilling ending. i would like to have seen more of what she was like pre-dantes getting sent to prison too, she was really fun at the beginning of the book like she would Not take fernand’s shit
fernand: awful awful man and i think he should’ve suffered more but as a character i like him he’s just... kind of a moron but also evil and half of everything he says ever is a lie
albert: who could forget dear albert he’s fucking crazy in a good way like it makes sense because mercedes was very like... set in her decisions and kind of drastic with what she says in the beginning of the book. and fernand is fernand. like you know his parents are crazy so he’s crazy. he’s a good kid though despite being a rich brat
franz: god bless him he’s the only one who realizes monte cristo is kinda suspicious. unless you count countess g---- but she just thought he was a vampire. but it’s good to have franz itd be a bit boring if monty was like loved by everybody instantly
danglars: YES i like him a lot he’s just evil and does not feel remorse he’s really fucking funny too because he’s a cuckold but he owns it. you know
hermine: well she was fuckin . that’s her prerogative i guess. has good taste in men except for her husband. i think she can do whatever she wants
eugenie: *SHOOTS LASERS FROM MY EYES* I LOVE HERRR i take back saying her mom should be able to do whatever she wants eugenie is the one who should be able to do whatever she wants forever. like she was not in the wrong at all unlike some people in this book
villefort: ok i know you know bhow i feel about this man but i just want to say he’s like... i think i don’t have a single issue with him the way he’s written is just so good and i wouldn’t change anything which is insane. yes im serious i wouldnt even make him actually gay because, thatd be weird, he is evil. also i relate to him too not as much as i relate to monty usually but
renee: what did she do even i guess i dont have much of an opinion on her. i like her dog in that one fuckign i watched like 2 episodes of the british miniseries the one in black and white. she has a little fluffy dog in it
the saint-merans: i guess theyre pretty funny because theyre rich people and have to put up with the way that villefort is. i love how all of villefort’s extended family just destroys each other
valentine: not a huge fan of the subplot with her and max, like i understand its narrative purpose and i wouldnt take it out by any means but i dont really care about those two together. i do like her quite a bit though. she managed to break the cycle of being a shitty person because of your family and im proud of her for that
noirtier: LEGEND he made a few points. like fuck napoleon but noirtier at least had a spine , perhaps a bit too much but you know how it is. he’s really funny because he does not respect his son in any way
heloise: OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I REALLY LIKE HER nobody properly appreciates her like i’ve seen people view her as just a punishment for villefort like   shes her own person. and though murder is bad shes kind of a victim of the way that society was. similar to villefort. the problem is capitalism am i right
edouard: WHAT son? i don’t have an opinion on him
benedetto: he’s the closest i can come to disliking a tcomc character. like i dont like that ali exists but that’s dumas’s fault. benedetto is uh. horrible. he’s a bit funny though (sorry i keep saying characters are funny) is it hypocritical of me to be like i dont like benedetto because he’s evil but like danglars because he’s evil? maybe
morrel: dantes’s dad #3. he’s a good guy i appreciate that he was fully ready to shoot himself to save his family
maximilian: i like him, not as much as i like valentine but he’s cool
julie and her husband: no opinion really. glad things worked out for them
caderousse: a merderer............ ok i actually like him i’m sorry i don’t pay as much attention to him as i do to v4 fernand and danglars i should. probably change that. i think its funny that wikipedia basically describes him as a tailor who turns to a life of crime
whatever the hell cad’s wife’s nickname was: ok so the chapter where she dies can be interpreted in a number of ways right like i know one is that caderousse was nervous because he had decided to kill her but i like the idea that she had the idea to kill the jeweler first and caderousse was like do i have to and she was like ya. and then he just decided to get her too in the spur of the moment. would have liked to know more about her
dantes’s dad: :( he was nice.... we get like one nice dad and he dies. ok morrel is there too but...
lucien: DANGLARS POLYCULE he’s REALLY funny i like him quite a bit. he’s like. snarky
ok theres like at least 7 other characters but theyre minor and i odnt have much in the way of opinions on them. that’s all
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okuraiani · 5 years
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Ikemen Revolution – Oliver Knight Route Part 5
Well, I’m a bit slow right now. That’s the price to pay if you work on several things at a time, I guess. This part felt a bit shorter, to be honest. But I thought it was cute nonetheless.
PART 5 CHAPTER 1
When the moon shifted high into the night sky—
(I’m finally back…!)
When I’m relieved to see the Black Army’s headquarters, the Hatter points in the direction of the gate.
[Hatter] “Surprisingly, they are all present.”
[Alice] “What?”
When I take a look, with Fenrir and Seth at the center, many soldiers with stiff expressions are talking about something.
(I wonder what’s wrong? Did something happen?)
[Alice] ”Fenrir, Seth!”
[Seth] “Ah, cute, little Alice!!!”
[Fenrir] “Hey, are you alright!?”
[Alice] “Wait, what…?”
In response to my voice, Fenrir and Seth come running with pale faces.
[Alice] ”You two, why are you…”
[Fenrir] ”The soldier who went to pick you up, came back reporting that you weren’t there, ya know.”
[Seth] ”I was so worried, thinking that something happened to you!”
[Fenrir] ”We were even talking about forming a search party just now.”
(It became such a big deal!?)
[Alice] ”Were you all, maybe, out here because you were waiting for me?”
[Seth] “That’s right. But, I’m so glad you’re alright. Really, really… rea-…”
Seth, who was about to cry even now, suddenly drops his gaze to my hand.
(Seth?)
His crying face, to my surprise, was instantly reduced to a demonic look.
[Seth] “Oh my… what’s with that hand? Are my eyes failing me?”
[Alice] ”Hand?”
As I follow Seth’s gaze, I’m seeing my hand connected to the Hatter’s…
(Oh, I forgot about that!)
[Seth] “Hey, care to tell me what this is all about?”
[Hatter] ”The Black Army leaders are, without exception, too over-protective.”
The Hatter laughs with a grin.
(Woah…)
In order to pull me away from Seth, he puts his arm around my waist.
[Hatter] ”If you worry that much, let’s stick to this girl day and night.”
[Alice] “Wait a—…, Hatter!?”
With a solid chest touching my back, even if I struggle to break free, I can’t loosen the arm around my waist.
(Hey, hold on, this is really bad for my heart!)
[Seth] “Fenrir, I wonder if it’s okay to beat that guy to a pulp ♪”
(Seth’s smile looks really scary like this!)
[Fenrir] “I don’t know if the old man will get angry at you, though.”
(Fenrir is also seriously not going to stop him!?)
[Sirius] “It’s not old man, it’s ‘older brother’. Also, Seth, don’t threaten guests.”
[Alice] ”Sirius!”
(Thank god, some help arrived!)
In this threatening atmosphere, Sirius, who appeared, forcibly makes Seth and Fenrir step back from behind them.
[Sirius] ”Looks like you took care of her, Hatter.”
PART 5 CHAPTER 2
[Sirius] ”Looks like you took care of her, Hatter.”
[Hatter] “Yes, I took care of her.”
The Hatter, who let go of me, is gently pushing me on the back towards Sirius.
[Sirius] ”Did something happen?”
[Hatter] ”Before that, how far goes your understanding of the situation?”
[Sirius] ”When we went to the White Rabbit’s house this evening to pick Alice up, there was ‘nobody’ there.”
[Alice] ”Nobody? Oliver also wasn’t at home…?”
[Sirius] “Yes, that’s what I’m told.”
(Although Oliver should have been working in the garage…)
(Don’t tell me something happened to him!)
[Hatter] ”He probably happened to have gone out.”
As if to cut off my worries, the Hatter let out a sigh.
[Hatter] “By chance, I saw that stupid girl about to get taken away by the Red Jack.” “I called out to them because of my uneasy conscience. That’s all I know about that.”
[Sirius] ”Is that so. Little lady, could you also tell us about the situation?”
[Alice] ”I… followed that man since I was picked up as usual.” “But it was a red soldier posing as a black soldier.”
[Sirius] ”I see… So it was the Red Jack who waited further ahead to take you away?”
[Alice] ”Yes…”
[Seth] “Alice, dear, has anything been done to you? You were scared, right?”
[Alice] ”I’m alright. Since I immediately received help from the Hatter!”
[Hatter] ”This time I only helped you ‘by chance’. That’s no guarantee that you’ll be fine next time.”
(…It’s just like the Hatter said… I was lucky this time.) (If it had continued like that, I would have definitely been caught by Edgar…)
When he saw me off, even while waving his hand, Edgar’s eyes weren’t smiling.
(There isn’t any proof that I will be okay next time.)
[Hatter] ”If she’s taken to the Red Barracks in the future, even you guys won’t easily get to her.” “In the worst case, there’s also the possibility of triggering the outbreak of war.”
[Alice] “Outbreak of war!?”
[Fenrir] ”In the current situation, it is not entirely impossible.”
[Sirius] “Yes. The Red Army, that forcibly took away the little lady that the Black Army has been protecting…” “That’s a good enough reason to fight.”
PART 5 CHAPTER 3
[Sirius] “That’s a good enough reason to fight.”
[Alice] ”No way…”
(It was… something so dangerous?)
When I strongly grasp my belatedly trembling hands, a big hand shoved my head with a bump.
[Hatter] ”Were you even aware of it, stupid?” “With you moving on your own, this country will be swallowed by the flames of war in no time.”
[Alice] ”The flames of war…”
[Sirius] “That was a bit much to say.”
[Hatter] ”For such a thoughtless idiot, saying that much is just right.”
A sharp and merciless gaze from the Hatter is being directed at me.
[Hatter] “Until the full moon arrives, behave yourself and stay inside the barracks.” “If you do, the worst situation can be avoided.”
(I wonder if it would be better if I do as he says.) (But…)
-FLASHBACK
[Alice] “Also, I can’t hole myself up in the barracks just because it’s dangerous.” “I want to properly return the kindness the Black Army has shown me.”
-FLASHBACK END
(I have decided to be an assistant in order for the weapon to repel magic to be made even a little faster.) (If I don’t… there might be much more people who get hurt.)
I look at Sirius, Seth, Fenrir and lastly the Hatter.
[Alice] ”This might be my selfishness, but I don’t plan to quit being Oliver’s assistant.”
[Hatter] “What the–, is there only cotton stored in your head?”
[Alice] ”It’s not! Besides, I’m not saying this without thinking.”
[Hatter] ”Oh really? Then lets at least hear your reason.”
[Alice ”If I quit being his assistant, it will delay the completion of the tool to invalidate magic.” “In this situation where we don’t know when the Red Army will attack, it may be related to everyone’s lives.” “In that case, I… know fully well that it’s dangerous but I still want to do what I can.”
[Hatter] “Even if you will be at risk of meeting a terrible experience when the Red Army catches you?”
[Alice] ”It’s fine if it’s in exchange for keeping the people who are taking care of me safe, right?”
[Hatter] “… …”
A second later, he laughs as his shoulders shake slightly.
(I didn’t even say something for him to laugh at!)
[Oliver] “Apparently, it seems I have underestimated you greatly.” “You’re not stupid. …You’re super stupid.”
PART 5 CHAPTER 4
[Oliver] “You’re not stupid. …You’re super stupid.”
[Alice] ”Wha–…”
(Have his offensive ways upgraded!?)
A: “You’re wrong.” B: “That’s mean.” C: “Objection!”
[Alice] ”Wait a minute, I have an objection!”
[Hatter] “Rejected. I guarantee that you are certainly a super stupid girl.”
(How tyrannic… Besides, it hasn’t been proven!)
Seemingly amused, the Hatter put his hand on my head with a plop.
[Hatter] ”This is what the little girl says, but Black Queen… Are you okay with it?”
[Sirius] “Yes, we’ll simply strengthen her escort. We don’t plan to confine the little lady.” “And also,it’s the truth that it will help the Black Army.”
[Hatter] “…I see.” “Then, be as cautious as you can.”
Once he indifferently announced that, the Hatter turns on his heels and raises his hand, walking away.
(In the end… I wonder why laughed like that?)
[Seth] “…Well, I’m just glad those guys didn’t make a move.”
[Alice] “Seth? Just now, what did you…”
[Seth] “I just said, that we quickly have to get Alice to warm up.”
(It sounds as if he said something completely different… Have I heard him wrong?)
[Sirius] “The air certainly is getting cold, so how about we return to the barracks.”
[Fenrir] “Alice, hurry and come. We’re having Luka make some delicious food!”
[Alice] ”I wonder what’s for dinner tonight… I’m looking forward to it!”
While being surrounded by all the noisy and lively people, I start walking.
(Oh… If I meet the Hatter again, it would be nice if I could thank him for helping me.) (I wonder when we’ll meet next?)
I quickly look back over my shoulder, but the Hatter’s figure, disappearing in the dark, was already nowhere to be seen. Early the next morning—
[Alice] ”—and that’s about what happened yesterday.”
While preparing tea next to Oliver, who is reading the newspaper, before work starts, I tell him about yesterday’s events.
[Oliver] ”I see. I was well aware.”
[Alice] “You were?“
[Oliver] ”You are a big idiot without intelligence, who’d go along with anyone, just like a chick following after the mother duck.”
[Alice] ”Sorry then, for being a big idiot!”
(When I heard yesterday evening that he wasn’t at home, I was worried… But it seems that wasn’t necessary.)
With a bang, I slightly ruthlessly place the freshly brewed tea in front of Oliver.
[Oliver] ”You’re not going to deny it?”
[Alice] ”I wasn’t wary enough, so it’s also my responsibility that I was about to be taken away.”
[Oliver] ”Wow, a self-aware simpleton with the prospect for growth.”
[Alice] ”I don’t want to be told about something like growth by a child!”
(Seriously…)
[Alice] ”Also, at least take your hat off when you eat.”
[Oliver] ”…Why you…”
When I take the silk hat, his beautiful and innocent features are being illuminated by the morning sun.
(Still… They do look similar.)
As I stare at him intently, a questioning look is being returned.
[Oliver] ”Hey little girl, don’t look down on me. Don’t treat me like a child.”
[Alice] ”Sorry, really. It’s just that you and the adult Hatter really do look alike, Oliver.”
(If I look closely, they even have the same eye color.)
[Alice] ”I heard that he is your relative, but… Is he maybe your father?”
PART 5 CHAPTER 5
[Alice] ”I heard that he is your relative, but… Is he maybe your father?”
[Oliver ”… …”
(Hmm?)
Oliver, who raised his face from the newspaper, sends me an unprecedented speechless look.
[Oliver] ”Did he look so old as if he had a child this big?”
[Alice] ”Hmm…”
(When he says it like that, he did look much younger…)
[Oliver] ”Alice.”
From the chair Oliver sits on, I’m being beckoned a few times.
[Alice] “Hmm? What is it?”
As soon as I bent my body, he mercilessly flicked my forehead with his finger.
[Alice] ”That hurt!…”
[Oliver] ”Try saying again that the Hatter is a father. I will change your nickname from stupid to moron.”
[Alice] ”Isn’t that a bit too mean!?”
[Oliver] ”That’s because, on top of being stupid, you’re saying ridiculous things.”
(Did what I say really make you that angry…?)
As Oliver drinks a sip of his tea, I furrow my brow.
[Oliver] ”…awful, it’s bitter and lukewarm.”
[Alice] ”Huh, no way! I thought it was like always…”
[Oliver] ”Did you properly measure the time, when you steam-boiled the tea leaves?”
[Alice] ”No, I went with my gut feeling…”
[Oliver] ”Idiot. For tea, even one second too much has an impact on the taste.” “If you’re going to call yourself my assistant, become able to brew tea that humans can properly drink.”
[Alice] ”How strict…”
(With Oliver, there’s no cutting corners for anything, huh?)
At his sassy look, my heart fills up with frustration.
[Alice] ”Fine, I’ll become able to brew delicious tea and make you take that back!”
[Oliver] ”I’m looking forward to how much such an airhead like you can grow.”
(Ugh… I’m so going to brew tea that he’ll call delicious!)
When I’m cleaning up the teapot with new-found determination, brisk footsteps approached from the corridor.
[Blanc] “Good morning, Alice and Oliver.”
[Alice] ”Good morning, Blanc! It’s really rare that you are at home at this time of the day.”
[Blanc] ”Yes, since I have a break from work today. That is to say, I planned to go out after this, though…” “How about you two also take a break from time to time?”
[Oliver] “There’s no time for that.”
Blanc is laughing without caring about Oliver’s brusque answer.
[Blanc] “Dear me, there’s nothing good about keeping at something regardless of your fatigue.” “In fact, recently there have been many cases when your hands stopped working. Are you maybe out of ideas?”
[Oliver] ”…It’s vexing, but that’s right.”
(What? I didn’t notice at all…)
[Oliver] “There is a hat that’s been requested earlier, but it isn’t really turning out well.”
Placing the teacup onto the empty saucer, Oliver stands up.
[Oliver] ”Can’t be helped… We’re also going out, goofball.”
LETTER
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Let’s Make A Character - Script for 2.
(But 3 including my Future self)
To start this off, this was inspired by a real conversation I had with my friend when we were designing a concept for a video game. Except in this version, I made her out to be wayyyyyy worse than she actually was. When I was younger, I was easily irked. 
This was how I showed by Passive Aggression 
- By making this lousy script.
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Obviously I ain’t thrilled.
Me: Alright, let's start designing this character already. Snowflake: Make it a *strong female character* Me: Okay... Strong Female Character. Snowflake: Who is gay. Me: ...Excuse me, what? Snowflake: We need more gay characters - simple as that. Me: Sure. Fine. She's gay. (Though that doesn't really matter, in terms of gameplay) Snowflake: They'd rather prefer 'They-them' pronouns. Don't assume their gender.
Okay, so this was around the time when They/Them and Xe/Xir was starting to become uncomfortably common for my liking. Back then I thought it was flat out ridiculous, but now I’ve seen the light and realized that if people want to identify as they/them and experiment with genders it’s totally okay.
Especially since it really doesn’t affect me in the slightest.
Me: What? Sorry? We're making a female character, remember? Snowflake: Uhh... Hello? They can identify as female, but not completely. They are demi.
It took me three years to buy into Demisexual/Demiromantic - But I’m still not entirely sold on Demigender. I thoroughly believe in the gender binary, rather than a spectrum. One of the reasons for why I’m Bi rather than Pan.
Me: Fine. What should 'their' name be? Snowflake: I don't know. Me: Let's go with Alexandra- Snowflake: Excuse me, but that is a cisnormative name and will not be acceptable. Their name should be gender-neutral to keep with the times. It's 2016, after all. Me: Jeez, okay. Their name is Alex. 
This part actually happened.
Snowflake: Why are you drawing her that way!? Me: ...Sorry? Snowflake: OMG that sketch only reflects the male power fantasies that dominates the gaming community! It's that mentality that labels you as an ignorant bigot!
This part didn’t, obviously.
Me: Okay, okay, what did I do wrong!? Snowflake: Her body is hyper-sexualized, you are oppressing women by drawing such a sexist piece. You are not accepting of other body types other than the D-cups, tiny waists and long legs! Me: Oh... Right. I guess I can make her proportions a bit more accurate - Snowflake: Respect their pronouns, you cis scum! Me: Fine, fine, fine - It's fixed. Calm down. Snowflake: ALL YOU DID WAS MAKE HER SKINNIER.
I’m gonna take this moment to talk about an issue I’ve been weirded out by: The Skinny Rose Quartz situation. Where people purposely draw Steven Universe characters skinny, Aryan and more humanoid. I thought it was hilarious at first, but then people started being generally mad about it. 
Tbh, I didn’t think it was a problem because of the ‘boohoohoo’ narrative of lack of representative figures for plus-sized audiences - I thought it was a problem because it was canonically false. And bad recolors. 
Teens these days gotta chill, jeez, it’s only fan art.
Me: W-Well, it would be more accurate if her hip size corresponds to her already slim body. I also shrunk her breasts so they would look less... well, fanciful. Snowflake: We have too many characters that are skinny like her! And why are they white? Where are the stretch marks? Their freckles? We need IMPERFECTIONS to show how COMPLEX this character needs to be! Me: They aren't white, it's just that I haven't colored them in yet... And so what if she's white? Race doesn't make a character more supreme than the other. In games, it's more about class stats than anything to do with race- Snowflake: If they are white, then they are oppressors to any other person or player that isn't white. To be white, is to be racist. And sure, you say it might be alright in a game - however, think of how it affects people of color playing as the white man! They need a character that represents. This is going to be that character.
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HOLA AMIGOS! HELLO FRIENDS!
Let’s spell some magical words today! Today’s magical word is ‘STRAW MAN’
S T R A W M A N
Muy Bien! Very good!
legit though this would fail any debate class
Me: Well, for the record it's my character. I think I can have the freedom to create her in any way that I want. Snowflake: You just objectified them! Me: How can I objectify something or someone that I haven't fully created yet!? Snowflake: Never mind. Does she have any other complexities? Me: What do you mean? Snowflake: I mean, you need to be tolerant of other behaviors, disorders, and dysfunctions of the mind! Hello? Were you living under a conservative rock? There are too many 'normies' in gaming.
Oh lord, does 
‘N o r m i e’ 
mean something different now...
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kek my dudes.
Me: Oh... So you want me to make her depressed or something?
HOOO BOY THAT’S TOPICAL
Snowflake: Not 'depressed or something', saying it like that is immensely offensive and damaging. Especially to those who do suffer from depression. Me: I can give her something mild, I guess. Snowflake: Looking at our character so far, she'd have to be bipolar, autistic, an insomniac and have a small case of ADHD. She will also have alters, for her MPD syndrome. Me: ... You are actually joking, right?
I wish I was joking when I legitimately thought this was how SJWs and Millennials talk.
*laughtrack then seinfeld theme plays*
Snowflake: Excuse me - mental disorders are not a joke! I was self diagnosed with depression, an array of anxiety disorders. Life is hard for people like me. Me: Yeah. Good to know. But giving her all of those problems may result in her character performance being- Snowflake: Hey. Depression is not a 'problem'. You are really getting on my nerves... Me: ...More like *TRIGGERING* your nerves, am I right? Snowflake: You ableist, ageist, classist, racist, sexist, cissexist, size sexist---- Me: Oh wow, you're still going. Snowflake: --- CIS WHITE MALE SCUM.
Legit though, what a fucking awful ending.
 “TRIGGERING YER NERVES - AMIRITE?” 
- I cringe whenever I read that line. No one can use the word ‘Trigger’ anymore, it’s been so over-used that it ain’t hip with the kids unless you use it heavily ironically. But everyone seemed to really resonate with this post since it was made at the height of SJWs
Now everybody knows that they’re just a small minority of people who have loud opinions. Opinions that not many people can relate to.
But who am I kidding, there’s still an audience on tumblr who are strongly influenced by them. So we have yet to see how much of a foothold they really have on western culture.
That’s all I have to say on that shit, and that’s all I ever will. Until next time.
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doe-praeludiumofred · 6 years
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Chapter 1, Section 1-The Star Fortress; Scene 3
Praeludium of Red, page 16-24
♣ Yukina ~In the Former Lucifenia Territory, "Town of Retasan/The Half Moon Pavilion"~
 .
The "Half Moon Pavilion" was a two story inn with seven rooms in all; right now, there were guests staying in five of the rooms.
After I'd somewhat awkwardly explained the situation, having already checked out once before, the petite, middle-aged owner let me check in again, grinning.
"Ain't got no reason to refuse. Filling up a room deserves a warm welcome."
All of the guest rooms were upstairs--the downstairs was for the owner's room, and the bar. The bar also functioned as a dining hall, so the residents would take their meals there.
I was hungry, so I decided to have some lunch. For now I would think about what I was going to do next while I was eating. The food was charged separately, so I took out two coins from my pocket and handed it to the skinny employee. After replying cheerfully to me, he called to the kitchen,
"Get me one white Rollam Bird paella!"
That was the most delicious out of the dishes they served there. That was the conclusion I'd come to. Their omelets weren't bad either, but they were very salty, so they were a little much to eat every day.
The bar was quiet. It was still midday, so while I knew there were hardly any guests drinking, it wouldn't have been out of place for there to be others looking to catch a meal like me. But there were only about five people there, including me.
It was always like this when I ate, so I imagined it wasn't a very popular dining hall. It would get fairly crowded at night, so perhaps the locals thought of it more strongly as a bar.
Hm? That woman…
I saw a face I recognized amongst the guests. It was the female soldier. The one who'd picked up my hat for me just a short while ago.
"Hey, uh--Thank you very much for earlier," I said boldly. I thought that taking my meal with someone else might be more fun, and I also had the ulterior motive that, since she was a soldier, I might be able to get her to tell me the reason for why I couldn't pass through the gate.
"Ah, you're the…Well, no thanks needed."
"Do you mind if I join you?"
She was sitting alone at a table for four. When I pointed to the chair across from her, she nodded agreeably.
"Go ahead. How 'bout we eat together while you're here, huh?"
She talked a little bit like a man, perhaps because she was a member of the military. I thought it a bit unsuited to how pretty her face looked, at the same time. If she were to attend a dinner party wearing a dress, she would probably be popular with the men there.
Once I sat down she said, "You a traveler?"
"Yes, how could you tell?"
"Never seen your face around here, and you've got that huge honking suitcase. Whaddya think of the town?"
"I think it's very nice. Although the walls encompassing its surroundings feel a little constraining."
"Yeah, it's sorta like a prison isn't it?"
After a short while of rambling conversation, finally the employee brought out our food.
"Your white Rollam bird paella, thank you for waiting!"
 It seemed she'd ordered the same thing as me, as there were two dishes of paella lined up on the table.
"This is the stuff," she said, smiling and bringing the food to her mouth.
"I agree. Bon appétit." I returned a laugh and began eating, myself.
After we went through the meal for a short while, she asked me frankly, "Hey, weren't you heading to the fortress gate before? How come you're back here?"
"Well, I'd been wanting to head out of the country to go to the Empire of Beelzenia, but I don't have permission to leave. …I've had to just come back here for now."
"Oh, so that's it, huh? …What's yer name?"
"My name is Yukina."
During my travels I had taken to only telling people my first name when asked. Considering the influence that the "Freezis" name held, I wanted to avoid declaring it as often as I could.
She didn't seem to pay much mind to the fact that I had withheld my last name.
"Yukina, it sucks but you might have a hard time getting to Beelzenia. Things are pretty tense between them and Lucifenia right now."
"Things are tense?"
"Yeah. The country of Lucifenia originally got so big out of stealing territory from the Empire of Beelzenia, after all. The two countries have never been on great terms."
"But Lucifenia's not a kingdom anymore."
"Doesn't matter. The head might be different, but the country's body is still the same. On a fundamental level." She set the spoon she was holding in her right hand down on the table. "Even after becoming governed by Marlon, Lucifenia and Beelzenia still had their skirmishes for one thing or another. On that point, I recently got some information from the higher ups in the military; that Beelzenia's harboring a fearsome criminal that's done harm to the Marlon royal family."
"A criminal, you say? Who in the world is that?" I asked, leaning in.
"Ah--as you might expect, that's confidential. Sorry." Perhaps realizing that she'd said too much, she raised her hands to her chest and gestured as though to rein me in. "Anyway, there's a pretty high chance of some kind of fight breaking out between the two countries from all this. So we're to restrict all movement in and out of the country."
"You mean the territory of Lucifenia might invade Beelzenia?"
 "If they don't hand over the criminal to us, yeah."
A war could start over just one criminal. What a grandiose idea. I'd become intrigued as to just what kind of criminal this was, but going off of what happened just now there wasn't any chance she'd tell.
Even so, she had spoken more concretely on it with me than the soldiers at the gate. The important point was that I couldn't go to Beelzenia due to some arbitrary circumstances with both countries. Irritated, I hit the table. The silverware rattled slightly as I knocked on the wood.
"Good grief, can't these people stop recklessly starting wars for their own interests?! It's obvious this criminal is just an excuse to expand their territory!"
I had raised my voice without thinking, but I quickly realized that was a blunder for two reasons. The first being that it was uncouth for a lady to shout during her meal, and the second being that I had just criticized the country right in front of someone who was related to the military.
But she didn't look displeased or angry--rather, she laughed loudly. "Ha ha ha! Exactly. Marlon's current policy of military expansion doesn't sit well with the public. And I agree."
That was a little surprising. Normally someone in the military wouldn't voice such overt criticism of the government. Depending on the circumstance they could be charged with treason and imprisoned.
Maybe because she's a woman she isn't very high ranking?  
The yellow uniform that she was wearing was of the old Lucifenian military. Most of the soldiers for the current Lucifenian territory wore the blue uniforms of Marlon. Maybe she was being made to wear an old uniform due to not being very distinguished.
Having received such unexpected endorsement, against my better judgment I spoke more excitedly.
"I'm glad you understand! I was treated so coldly by some soldiers at the gate a little while ago. The top brass are so unreliable, they probably don't even bother to train their troops properly!"
In truth it was just the younger soldier at the gate's behavior that I'd had a problem with, but from the flow of conversation I had moved into criticisms of the military higher ups.
"Heh heh heh, I guess so."
"After all, isn’t this fortress' Commander Mouchet a good for nothing bum too? You…I'm sorry, I haven't asked your name."
"Name? Uh, Lily."
"Lily. That's a very nice name. Naturally, you know about this Commander Mouchet person, don't you Miss Lily?"
"Haha, well, yeah."
Lily seemed to be holding back a smile. Judging by her behavior, this Commander Mouchet wasn't very popular after all.
"The guards at the gate told me that Commander Mouchet is frightening like an ogre, cruel like a demon, and works the soldiers like slaves. It must be such a burden on you to have to work under such a person as that."
"Oh, they said that, did they?"
"Here's what I think. The current Lucifenian Territory's army ought to be headed by someone like you, who understands how things work--"
Right then, the door to the bar opened and in came a tall soldier.
"This is where you've been?" The soldier walked up to Lily and saluted her. "General Ausdin is here from his country. He's currently waiting in your room."
"Got it. I'll go in a minute, once I'm done eating. By the by, who were the soldiers charged with guarding the gate today?"
"Ah. I think it was Bonnard and Oudinot."
"Bonnard and Oudinot, huh? Right. I'll keep that in mind, heheh…"
"Well then, please come at your earliest convenience, Commander Mouchet."
The tall soldier bowed once, and then left the bar.
“Um—uh, Ms. Lily?” I asked timidly, “Is it alright if I ask what your—your full name is?”
“Mhm, yep. Riliane Mouchet. But I don’t care for being called ‘Riliane’ so I usually go by Lily.”
“Um, I…A thousand apologies.”
"Come on, eat up. Before the food gets cold."
The paella there was delicious. But I can’t remember what it tasted like that day.
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aquaticlawnmower · 5 years
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Who the f#!& am i sitting next to
I pushed past the old white men, who were eyeing me in awe while i, brown and woman, navigated my way across first class. Thankfully, the white man i sat next to was younger… less traditionally racist. I would find as the night went on, it’s still alive and well in generation Z. 
I overheard him on the phone before we took off… something about models and money. I peeked over at his outfit. A Basquiat hoodie and Gucci loafers. Of course. What else was I to expect on a first class flight from LA to NY. Regardless, he was nice. Ish. He asked me what movie I was watching (The M.I.A. documentary). I told him: The M.I.A. documentary.
“Oh, i know that chick. She dated my friend. She’s crazy.”
Whatever answer i was expecting, it wasn’t that. I get really antsy when men call women crazy. Especially if they don’t know them… But I guess… he knew M.I.A? 
He tapped me on the shoulder - “I’m going to sleep.” Then grinned. “Goodnight.”
I watched Christine while he slept. Both movies made me cry. I related strongly to both, Maya - the brown girl seeking to validate both of her identities as Tamil and American, expressing herself by any means possible. And Christine - A neurotic woman who just wanted to prove her worth. 
He woke up.
“Did you sleep at all?”
“No. I watched another movie. I can’t really sleep on planes.”
“I used to be like that.”
“Well congratulations. You’ve accepted death”
He laughed. I made him laugh. Was I flirting with him. Why was I flirting with him. Why do i flirt with everything.
More questions. More answers. He showed me a script idea he was working on - it wasn’t a script at all. In fact, it was so novicely gathered I was shocked that he apparently was “a big name.” He really talked about himself for quite a bit. I’d try to chime in and make it a conversation, just to be cut off or spoken over. He didn’t want a conversation. Then finally a question for me- “Where do you live?” Classic.
“Murray Hill.”
“How are you getting home?”
“Uber.”
“I have a driver. I’ll take you.”
“Sorry, i dont know if i can trust you.”
He laughed. Then monologued.
“Come on. I’m not gonna do anything sketchy. I’m way too big of a name to have something on my record like… rape or, or murder. I don’t know which one you’re more worried about but, I promise. I’ve actually been raped so… I’d never do that to someone. I don’t usually tell people that but, I don’t know… You seem like someone I can trust. So, will you trust me?... I saw you didn’t really eat. At least let me get you dinner, and then you’ll get home safe.”
“Alright, yea. Thanks.”
We go to baggage claim, and while we wait, he says all of one thing: “Never check your bag. It’s a waste of time.” How romantic.
The ride over he continued to talk about god knows what - his friend who has two houses, his 40 year old friend who’s desparate for a woman, his blossoming relationship with Adriana Lima, how hard it is being in the industry, and a few other things. It didn’t seem like he was actively looking to impress me, nothing seemed that aggressive, or even passively aggressive. It’s just what he was made up of - it was his substance. All these crazy stories and famous people and amazing experiences. Honestly his life seems like a lot of fun. Regardless, at the end of the conversation, I didn’t feel like I got any closer to knowing who he really was. 
By the time we got to this restaurant, I realized the restaurant is a hotel lobby’s restaurant. A nice one. The Mercer. Great. 
Here’s just a little bit about me. I’m bad at saying No. Or just leaving a situation. For some reason, I take what the moment has to offer. So when he asked me if I wanted to just spend the night there, I nodded my head. I don’t know why. I could write out some fake explanation but I would rather not invalidate my own confusion. 
He called for the waitress, whom he knew by name (“I basically live here. Well, I live 3 blocks away but, I stay here to clear my head.”) and asked for a room. When she brought the keys, he grimaced. Apparently, he was not accustom to room 604. He made his way to the front desk.
“Are you new here?”
“I’m sorry sir?”
“Did you just start here?”
“Um… well, a little while ago yes.”
“Yea.”
He walked away and I quickly followed, resisting the urge to turn around and at least mouth “sorry” to that poor man behind the desk. We got in the elevator. He took a shower. I took a shower. We got in bed. 
“I really want to watch this how. You’d love it. I mean, I’m on season 2 episode 3… and I’m mid episode right now. Is it selfish of me to do that? Well, i can pause and explain.”
“I hate pause and explain. I’ll just go to sleep.”
“Ok well hey-
He put his hand on my shoulder. He looked kind of cute in the dark. He kissed me, I kissed back. But I didnt want sex, my body language said it all. I could feel he was hard, but he could feel that i wasn’t gonna make that happen for him. I wasn’t in the mood. It wasn’t until the end of our little make out session, I hear it:
“I’m about to cum.”
I laughed.
“What?”
He’d been jerking himself of the whole time. Incredible. Men. Are. Incredible. 
And then, just as quickly as I found myself in the situation, he came all over his stomach.
“Get me a towel.”
I got him a towel, put a pillow between us, and got the best sleep of my life.
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josephstoontown · 7 years
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The Eve of the Eve of an Eve, Ch. II
Chapter II of "The Eve of the Eve of an Eve," a Joseph's ToonTown story. (Previously one-half of the story of the same name.)
I didn't actually split this story for logistical reasons or anything like that.  It just felt like it should be split, to me.
Word count: 4,063 – Character count: 24,017 Originally written: December 15th - 16th, 2016 Slightly revised: January 14th - 15th, 2017 Revised further: August 29th, 2017
After a visit to a creepy collector of old electronics, Winnie and Joseph take in and discuss a classic movie right at home.
Winnie Woodpecker, the Woody Woodpecker Show, and related characters and properties created by and © Walter Lantz Productions Judge Doom, Who Framed Roger Rabbit?, and related characters and properties created by Gary K. Wolf and © The Walt Disney Company
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    “Huh…”     Joseph tilted his head after waiting a few moments.     “He usually responds, by now,” he told his companion.  “Maybe I should try it, again.”
    Tap, tap-tap-tap, tap…
    Another handful of moments passed as the two waited.  Still, nothing happened.     “Maybe he’s not here, today?” Winnie offered.  “It’s Valentine’s Eve-Eve… plus, it’s the weekend, so–”
    Tap, tap.
    The two of them perked as they heard something knock from the other side of the door.  Joseph smiled at his companion with excitement.  He quickly cleared his throat before looking up at the security camera, again.  Before he could talk, however…     “Where’s… Woody?” called an odd, wheezy voice from behind the door.     “He had to work overtime, tonight.  It’s just me.  Well…”  He paused… then, he looked at Winnie, gesturing to her.  “Just us, rather.”     “Is that– is that… who I think it is…?” the voice said as the bird looked up.     “If you think it’s Winnie Woodpecker, then, yes.  Yes, it is.”     Suddenly, the door vibrated.  Joseph and Winnie could hear various fastens being undone from the other side.  A moment later, it opened and revealed… a rather underwhelming form.
    “Come in, come in…  What a pleasant surprise!” said a very tall, very gangly, man.     He stared at the two from behind thick, soda-bottle glasses, standing there in a pair of striped pajama bottoms, a stained, white t-shirt, and what looked to be old, beat-up bunny slippers.  He was balding on the top of his head but had long, stringy, black hair, otherwise.  The thing that struck Winnie as the most interesting, however, was the fact that he wasn’t a ‘toon like she’d been expecting.  He was a relatively normal-looking human-being!
    “Hey, Fred,” Joseph said as he entered any hesitation.  “How’s business?”     “Gooood, gooood…”     Fred looked down at Winnie, who had lagged behind.     “Come in, come in… my little friend!  Can I offer you teeea… and, something to eat?”     “We just came from dinner, actually,” Joseph said.  “Winnie?  You comin’?”     Winnie stood by the door.  She did not like the looks of that “Fred” guy… or his “store”.     Fred’s Video Shed was a little too appropriately-named, she thought, given how compact and dimly-lit it was.  There were numerous shelves stocked with various outdated electronics and related paraphernalia within and the place was basically a small hole-in-the-wall sort of store.  It also smelled, Winnie noted solely to herself, strongly of marijuana…
    “I’ll… wait out here,” she said, frowning at Joseph.     “You sure?”  The fox turned toward the door.  Fred was still standing there, staring down at his friend.     “I’m… quite sure.”
    Joseph frowned, finally noticing the discomfort on his friend’s face and in her voice…     “Alright, I know Fred looks a bit…”     The shopkeeper turned toward Joseph, a wide grin on his face as he stated, “Creeeeepy…” wiggling his fingers all the while.     “Right, well… right.”  The fox gave a chuckle.  “But, he’s actually pretty harmless.”     “So, why not come in, my little friend, so I can show you…”  He paused, taking a moment to breathe in a very raspy way before saying, “my collection…?”     “Fred, c’mon now.  Cut it out.  You’re scaring her.”     “Oh, alright…” he said in a slightly deep but otherwise normal voice.  He then backed away from the doorway and shuffled over to a counter, sitting down on it and crossing his arms.
    “Fred loves theatrics,” Joseph explained to the confused woodpecker.  “He also remembers the story of ‘The Collector’ who plagued Los Angeles years ago, when all those ‘toons were being abducted.  He kind of relates to being–”     “A collect-ooorrr…” Fred interrupted in his wheezy voice from before.     “Right.  But, honestly, he’s just a guy who collects stuff nobody wants anymore.”     “Not unlike…”  He inhaled before wheezing, “The Collect-ooorrr…”     “Fred!”     “Sorry, sorry…”  The beanpole rubbed the back of his neck.     “So… yeah,” Joseph continued.  “A collector collecting stuff nobody wants.  Not ‘toons… but, simply, used and/or outdated electronics.  Mostly video media… but, sometimes, other stuff.”     “Like, for example…”     Fred reached behind the counter.  When he leaned back over, he had something odd in his hands.  It looked like…     “This positively… adorable… toy robot from the 1980s…”     Winnie watched as he knelt down and set the object on the floor.  He pressed a button somewhere on its back and, after a moment, it came to life!
    The little, black robot stiffly walked forward, its eyes and the ray-gun in its left hand flashing while a jingling noise emitted from somewhere on its body.  Winnie also noticed that it seemed to be emitting a bit of smoke or steam from its head.     “This little thing actually runs a little bit of electricity… but, mostly oil,” Fred explained to the bird, “which is why you’re seeing smoke.  It had moderate success during 1984 but was well outsold by G.I. Joes, The Real Ghostbusters toys, and the like.”     As Winnie watched the robot take step-after-step toward her, she had to admit… it was kind of cute.  Between the toy and the story behind it, she also felt herself become more comfortable with the grungy shopkeeper and his dank, dark shop.     “I guess you really can’t judge a book by its cover!” she absentmindedly thought aloud, happily watching the robot flash and walk.     “Perhaps… perhaps…”  Fred playfully wheezed before offering a friendly smile.
    With the ice truly well and broken, Winnie finally decided to enter the shop.  Once she was inside, Fred walked over and closed the door behind her, fastening two of the locks in the process.  That made Winnie feel a little tenser… but, if Joseph wasn’t worried, she figured she probably shouldn’t be, either.
    “So…” the fox said, turning his attention from the shelves and to their maintainer.  “I hear tale that you have something we’re interested in, Fred… Woody and I.”     “Indeeeed…” he rasped, rhythmically tapping his fingers together.  “But, the real question is… do you have what I am looking for?”     “I should hope so,” Joseph replied, withdrawing his wallet from his rear pocket.  “Unless Woody was just screwin’ with me… again.”     Winnie watched as Joseph withdrew something from his wallet… something ‘toony.  It looked to be a small, shiny, black triangle… or, a flat cone of some sort.  It wasn’t until Joseph started unfolding it that she realized what it was.
    “Isn’t that a portable hole?” she asked.     “Yeah?” was his reply as he snapped it, getting the wrinkles out of its texture.     “How in the world were you even carrying that?  It should have eaten your wallet… or, at the very least, punched a hole through it.”     “I lined my wallet with ‘toon-proofing.”  He looked to one side with a grumble.  “Mostly to keep Woody from randomly jumping out and scaring the crap out of me.  Or, stealing stuff…”     “Stealing stuff…?”  Winnie gave a blink of surprise.  “You mean money…?”     “Business cards… my work ID… et cetera,” he grumbled again.  Fred chuckled at that.     “Anyway, it should be in here somewhere, I think…” Joseph said as he reached into the hole.  “Wait… wait… I think– this might be it.  Yeah, here we are!”     The shopkeeper watched in awe as Joseph withdrew… a small rectangle.     “What is it?” Winnie asked.     Joseph showed the item to Winnie… who then stared, wide-eyed at it.     “Is that… a Woody Woodpecker VHS from the Netherlands?”     Indeed, the yellow cover had a very poorly-drawn version of her boyfriend on it as well as some sort of black cat.  It also had a white border around the front with a red banner proudly displaying the words “Star Cartoon Festival” at its peak.  Just under that, a wooden-lettered marquee read “Woody Woodpecker” and finally, at the very bottom were some Dutch words in white which Winnie recognized to read “Dutch Language.”
    “I’ve been wanting to get my hands on this for so long…!” Fred said as he hopped up to take the item.  Joseph, however, was quick to withdraw it from his sizeable reach.     “Not so fast, Floydsberg!” he said, waving a finger on his free hand.  “Do you have it?”     Fred’s eyebrows lowered and a look of anger flashed across his face…     “You dare to defy the wants of The Collector in his own domicile…?” he said, rearing back and pointing a long finger at the fox.     Joseph replied with a smirk before saying, “I dare.”     The tall man gave a loud hiss, twirling and walking around the counter.  To Winnie’s surprise, he seemed to vanish right before her eyes!  However, she could hear footsteps.  A peek over the counter revealed a staircase… previously hidden under a fake floor!     “Joseph…?” she called with a look of concern.     “Wait for it,” he said in a reassuring tone.     The female gave a scowl…  She really wasn’t sure what to make of the situation… but, she really didn’t like it.  That Fred character had a hidden room… under his floorboards.  That generally didn’t lead to good things, if books and movies taught her anything…
    “I have… returned!” called a voice from the hidden stairwell.  Fred quickly made his way back up to the surface.  “And, I have that which you seek… you wretch!”     “Show me,” was Joseph’s reply.  And show him, Fred did.     The tall man gently placed a large device on the counter.  It was rectangular, bulky, and had a ridiculous amount of buttons on it, not to mention a couple of dials and several input and output jacks.  Winnie also noticed that it had the words “Multi Laser” on it.  While it put her in mind of a DVD or BluRay disc player, she noted it had a slot for something she didn’t see much of, anymore – a VHS cassette.  It then dawned on her…     “Is… is that a LaserDisc player?”     “This is the Panasonic Multi Laser Disc Player, model LX-K700 with cables and…” Fred normally said before drawing something from his side.  “A remote!”     “And…?” Joseph said with a grin.  “Where’s the other thing?”     The human grimaced a little, inhaling… then, exhaling.  Slowly, he withdrew a large case of some sort from behind himself.  It looked a little like a very thick record sleeve… but, the label of the object immediately told Winnie, as well as Joseph, what it actually was.
    “That’s a Who Framed Roger Rabbit? LaserDisc…!” Winnie squeaked.     “Heh.  Shinko would flip her cowlick if she knew I had access to this.”     “For one week,” Fred sternly stated in his regular voice.  “And, you’d better bring it back in this condition or better!  Or else!”     “Oh, don’t worry, Fred…” Joseph started as he stretched the portable hole and held it up.  “I don’t think even Woody would do anything bad to something this rare.  He’s been wanting to see the widescreen, uncut version of this movie in the best quality possible for a while, now… so, I think he’ll be mighty happy when he comes home toni– well, tomorrow morning.”     “I’m deadly serious about this, Joe,” the collector said as he gently slid the whole kit-and-kaboodle into the hole.  “If I don’t get this back in the exact condition I’m lending it to you, I’ll have your hide and his feathers!”     The fact Fred wasn’t using his “Collector voice” gave Winnie the impression he was exactly as serious as he sounded…  Joseph, too, seemed to get the picture.
    “If anything happens to this stuff on my watch,” the fox said as he folded up the hole, “I promise, I’ll personally reimburse you for the items with inflation.  At your rate.”     Winnie wasn’t sure, but it looked like Fred had narrowed his eyes at Joseph…     “Okay…” the shopkeeper said.  “Now, about that VHS cassette…”     “All yours, no further strings attached,” Joseph said as he handed it over.     “Suh-weet!”  The balding man smiled… then, he started to run the two out of his shop.     “I’m gonna go watch this right away!  Tell Woody I said ‘hi,’ would’ja?  Nice meeting you, Winnie!  Sorry I freaked you out.  Have a nice night!  ‘bye!”     And, before either of them could even say “Goodbye…” they were out on the street.
    “You know,” Winnie said as she and Joseph resumed their walk back to Woody’s apartment, “I think I’m beginning to see why Woody never mentioned that man, before.”     “Yeah, well…” Joseph laughed.  “That, and the fact he’s a hoarder.”     “Don’t you mean…”  Winnie gave an exaggerated draw of breath.  “A collect-ooor…?”     “Okay, that’s somehow even creepier coming from you, Winnie.”     The bird gave a giggle.  She then gave a hum, a thoughtful look appearing on her face…
    “Say, where did you even find that tape?” she asked.     “Woody had it in storage from some years ago,” he started to explain.  “Why the Dutch version?  I have no idea.  But, hey!  It got us two front-row tickets to a near-theater-perfect screening of Who Framed Roger Rabbit? so I can’t really complain too much.  Maybe, now, I’ll finally get to see what the big deal is…”     “Wait…”     Winnie stopped in her tracks.  Joseph followed suit, staring down at the bird.     “You mean to tell me that, in all of the time you’ve been here… in this world… in ToonTown… you’ve never actually watched this movie, before…?”     “Yeah, that about sums it– aaapp?!”     Joseph couldn’t even finish his thought before Winnie grabbed him by the hand and bolted full-tilt forward.     “What the Void are you–”     “We have a movie to watch!  Now!”     And, without a word more, Winnie drug Joseph all the way back to his apartment.
    It took the combined efforts of both Joseph and Winnie to figure out how to hook the LaserDisc player up to the old CRT TV in Woody’s apartment.  However, they were finally able to get it displaying something on the screen.  All that remained was to see if it worked right.     “Careful with that disc,” Joseph said as Winnie removed it from its package.     “Don’t worry, I am,” she assured him.     The two delicately inserted the disc into the player’s top.  For a moment, nothing seemed to be happening but a lot of whirring noises.  But, then…     “Advertisements!” Joseph triumphantly exclaimed.  “We have advertisements!”     Winnie clapped her hands together, a bright smile on her face.     “Marvelous!  That means the device is working properly!”     “You know what else that means, right?”     The bird blankly stared for a moment… before her face lit up, again.     “I’ll go put the popcorn in the microwave!”     “And, I’ll uh… uh…”  Joseph gave his head a scratch.     “Pause the advertisements?”     “Er, right!”     Winnie gave a giggle as Joseph did exactly that.  She then wandered into the kitchen to start on the popcorn.  It didn’t take long after that for her to return with a bowl full of buttery, fresh-popped popcorn for the two of them.
    “Go ahead and make yourself comfortable,” Joseph said as he removed his sweater.  He’d already removed his shoes, by that point.     “Okay!”     She set the bowl down on the coffee table.  Joseph then watched as she slid out of her shoes, setting them off to one side before slipping out of her bolero jacket.  He couldn’t help but blush when he noticed how bare her body looked, at that point, even with the pinafore dress covering her top half.
    “What?” she asked with innocent eyes, folding her jacket up.     “Nothing…” the fox said, rubbing his blushing cheek.  “It’s kind of weird, actually.”     “What’s that?”     “Well… you usually run around topless…” he commented, causing her to giggle.  “But, seeing you covered-up in that skirtall dress and with that jacket thing… then, watching you take off the jacket… well…”     The fox found himself silenced by a sudden kiss on the cheek.     “I understand,” was all Winnie said as she curled up against his body, making herself comfortable.     “Yeah, but, I’m not sure I do!” Joseph laughed.     “Sometimes, less is more.  And, sometimes, more is less…  Or, something like that.”     “Something like that, I guess…” he agreed.     “Now, then… let’s start the movie!”     The fox gave a blink.  “Oh, right…”  He then hit play on the remote, unpausing the movie.
    The next hour and 44 minutes were filled with a lot of sights, sounds, and impressive special effects, Joseph had to admit.  For an older movie, it still held up really well!  Then again, what wasn’t done by ‘toons or humans had been done by actual, physical props and effects rather than the computer graphics he’d been used to, from the few modern cartoons he’d seen.  By the end of the movie, however, he started to wonder…
    “Toward the end there… was Judge Doom’s actor just Christopher Lloyd with special effects on him… or, was it an actual toon wearing a Judge Doom costume?”     “I’m not really sure…” Winnie said, looking up from her reclined position on Joseph’s lap.  “The mix of special, animated effects and real life things were done so well, it’s difficult to tell!”     “And… is that ‘dip’ stuff – oh, hey!  It’s Woody!” the fox suddenly stated as he noticed the woodpecker’s cameo during the closing scenes.  “He looks so… odd, there.”     “He was wearing a lot of stage makeup which made him look like he did before he got his redesign, in the 1980s.”     “Huh…”  The fox tilted his head.  “Well, anyway, about that ‘dip’ stuff…”     Winnie tensed, at that.     “Is that stuff real?  I mean, does it exist?”     “You heard that man in the warehouse scene, right?”  The woodpecker visibly swallowed.  “‘Turpentine, acetone, benzene…’  I-in the right combination… it… it can be… more than a little harmful to your average, hand-drawn ‘toon…  Fatal… even…”     “Oh.”  The fox hummed.  “But, the components by themselves wouldn’t kill a ‘toon?”     “Probably not…” Winnie looked fairly uncomfortable, then.  “B-but it would hurt…”     “Why?”     “Does the term ‘paint thinner’ mean anything to you?”     Joseph gave a blink at Winnie’s sudden tone.  She sounded… and looked… a little upset.  It didn’t take him long to figure out that the current topic probably wasn’t the best type to be talking about with her…  However, another thought interrupted that one, soon after.
    “So, wait…” he started again.  “That would hurt a drawn ‘toon… but, what about computer-made ‘toons?  Like those characters from Sonic Boom?”     “I don’t– I don’t know.”  She squirmed out of his lap.  “Can we please stop talking about this?”     “Huh?”  He tilted his head.  “Oh, sorry…”     He cleared his throat, watching Winnie take the empty popcorn bowl away.
    “Uh, anyway!  Yeah!  I can definitely see what all the hype is about, now!  That was a really good movie!  And, I’m glad I was able to share the best version of it with you!”     “Today’s been a good day…” Winnie commented from the kitchenette.  “Even with the awkwardness…”     “I agree!  But, hmm…  What to do now?”     “Well… I was giving some thought to staying around for a while…”  the woodpecker said above the rush of the water she was running in the sink, “but, I’m feeling a little tired now, so…”     “Wait, what?”  Joseph got to his feet with a blink, staring back toward the kitchenette.  “Are you… mad at me?”     “I don’t like thinking about the fact that some… lunatic… found a way to basically erase ‘toons from existence…” he heard her respond.     “Well, I mean… it was just a movie, right?”     “It was based on something that actually did happen, though…”     Once again, the fox had to blink.     “I’m… sorry?  What?”
    After a few moments, Winnie finished up in the kitchen and walked back over to Joseph.  She sat down on the couch with a sigh before patting the seat next to her.  The fox sat beside the bird, giving her a curious look.  It seemed like a story was brewing…
    “There really was some sick, twisted ‘toon out there during the 1940s,” Winnie started.  “And, he did masquerade as a human.  Even the name was the same…  ‘Judge Doom…’  It should have been obvious, right from the start, that he wasn’t some ordinary judge… much less an ordinary man.  But, somehow… Judge Doom ended up becoming the judge of ToonTown, back then, and things played out more-or-less like they did in that movie.”     She paused for a moment.     “It’s hard to believe that anyone could ever come up with the exact combination of chemicals needed to completely erase… dissolve a ‘toon… but, the real Judge Doom did.  And, just like in the movie, there were casualties.  But, the first wasn’t a shoe…”     Winnie looked up a Joseph, sorrow in her eyes.     “It was a gopher.”     She swallowed hard, pausing…     “The gopher had high hopes.  He heard that Disney was going to make some Winnie the Pooh theatrical shorts and planned to audition for the role of, well, ‘Gopher.’  But, said gopher never made it to the auditions…  He was tried, juried, and executed by that mad toon for a phony crime – just so Doom could show off his new chemical cocktail…”     Winnie closed her eyes, tightly hugging herself…     “I-I still remember the screams…  His… the crowd’s… my own…  I… I want to forget.  But, I can’t… I simply can’t…”
    Joseph was quick to wrap his own arms around her, pulling her into a hug.  She carefully snuggled up against him, keeping her eyes closed and continuing to shiver…     “Maybe we should talk about something else for a while…” he suggested.  “This is getting way too ‘real,’ for me…”     “Like what?” she calmly asked.     “I… uh… I…”     But, the truth was… he really didn’t know where to go, from there.  Winnie seemed like she’d terrified herself, thinking about that movie… those events… for so long.  Normally, he would tell her something like, “It was just a movie,” but… she’d already disproved that.  He’d also thought about comforting her with facts such as “The odds of someone finding that formula again are pretty low,” as well… but, he knew that would just remind her of the fact that some had found it, in the first place.  As much as he hated thinking about it… he had no real way to help her, other than to keep hugging and holding… caressing and cuddling the poor girl in his arms.  After a moment, however, another thought of how to soothe her came to mind…         Winnie perked, catching an unusual sound coming from her friend.  She looked up for a moment, glassy eyes opening as she watched his muzzle move.  He was speaking… no, singing something… but, it wasn’t in any language she could identify.     “What… what language is that?  Is that a language?” she asked.  “It sounds vaguely Latin-based… kind of like French…  But… it’s not anything I’ve ever heard, before.”     “I… I don’t know what it is or where it came from, actually.”     He gave her a squeeze, giving a confused chuckle…     “I was trying to sing something else, actually… an old, silly, soothing song from my childhood.  But, then… that just kinda popped into my head.  So… I just started singing it, not knowing what it was.”     There was a pause between the two, then.     “Would you… would you mind singing more of it to me?  Please?”     “What?”  The fox looked at his friend… who was gazing up with hopeful eyes.     “You have a nice singing voice… and that sounded like a lovely song.”     “I… can try?”  Joseph gave a blink.  “Um, let me see how much of it I know…”     Without knowing why or how… without knowing where the words had even come from or what they meant… Joseph sang that soft, sweet song to his friend, again.
    Even without knowing what the words meant, Winnie could easily see pictures being painted of things that took her far, far away from the original thoughts that had upset her… a pleasant land full of fantastic creatures.  But, before she could explore that new land… she found herself rapidly losing focus… losing consciousness… and, before long… she had fallen asleep.
    I wonder…     Joseph quietly thought to himself as she put the slumbering bird to bed.     I wonder if that song came from somewhere… in my past existence, here in this place?  Shinko told me, I’d been here, before…  Maybe I picked it up, somewhere… but…     He hummed, quietly closing the bedroom door as he returned to the living room.     Why now?  And… where would I have heard it?     He gave a confused sigh… but, in the end, decided that it wasn’t worth worrying about.     After all…  He smiled.  It did its job… and, that’s all I wanted.
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