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#i think it’s also nice to imagine that he treats it like an introductory way of becoming friends
caswlw · 3 years
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that being said i think that the cartoon to anime gateway drug does bite jack and he ends up trying and failing to get cas to teach him Another language when he’s already pretty shit at reading so they end up doubling down on teaching him to read because he likes reading the subtitles !! he wants everyone to love tv the same way he does and that includes eileen too so he keeps learning so he can sit her down the same way he does with dean, cas, and sam and introduces her to an anime he likes :) eileen is very touched and they end up having regular nights where instead of jack’s standard morning cartoon he watches subbed anime with eileen :D
#i just think it’s sweet#as someone who has a shit time processing anything without subtitles i think it’s just a kind gesture to keep them on yk?#and in this case- jack is learning to read so he can watch anime with eileen just bc he thinks well ofc she should be able to watch cartoons#jack loves quality time w his various parental figures#i think with cas it’s anything. he can put on any show and cas is content#sam prefers that jack watches the more educational stuff but he doesn’t mind anything that’s on rn that’s cool like.#sam is most def also watching anime with eileen and jack bc he thinks the storylines are so cool no lie#and with dean it’s classic cartoons from when he was a kid and adaptations of it now#like dean liked the old batman cartoons so they cycle thru those and young justice and teen titans and now dean is deep into ttg with jack#and he loves it! it’s funny and it’s spending time w his kid#i think that claire also gets roped into this and the wayward sisters introduce jack to those middle years he’s missing with gen x parents#anyway i think patience and jack have similar taste and kaia alex and claire all try to get him into more actiony animes#like he’s totally chill with watching normal ones but claire is like we HAVE to watch [blank] bc she’s been dying to!#i think it’s also nice to imagine that he treats it like an introductory way of becoming friends#like lemme show u something i think you’ll like!#jack kline cartoon boy :)#spn
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heywardsarchive · 4 years
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STAR CROSSED LOVERS~ JAMES SIRIUS POTTER
Summary: Harry Potter does not get along with his old Slytherin classmates. He doesn't let his son talk to his either. But what happens when James Sirius Potter falls in love with the Slytherin daughter of Blaise Zabini?
Warnings: fluff, kinda angsty, slightly ooc Harry and a few swear words
This is for @im-a-writer-right writing challenge
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Gif not mine
Being the daughter of Blaise Zabini is not always easy. My mother had left us when I was just a child. I was left in the care of my not so motherly grandmother and her troupe of new husbands and my father, who was really trying his best. He wasn't very fatherly by nature but he tried to be there for me whenever he could.
After the war things were better for the wizarding community. They tried to be mom judgemental based on blood status or house, but old habits die hard. My father and his Slytherin friends especially uncle Draco were shunned and looked down upon. All for the mistakes made by their parents. People would glare at them whenever they passed by. Finding jobs wasn't that easy for us. Not that we needed it but dad wanted to find a way to redeem himself. So he and uncle Draco joined auror training where obviously they were most disliked. Seeing all this around me made me determined to grow up and fight this prejudice. I told my father what I thought and he smiled and patted my head saying that he believed in me. That was all eight year old me wanted to hear and she believed it thoroughly.
But things are not as easy as it seems. I started Hogwarts soon after. I sat in a carriage all alone for a while for no one wanted to sit with a Zabini. Then came in a boy with messy black hair and brown eyes. "Can I sit here? Everywhere else is full." I was delighted! "Yes ofcourse!" "James Potter." He said extending his hand. Oh. A Potter. He'd get up and leave the moment I told him my name. "Y/n Zabini." I said preparing myself for him to walk away disgustedly. I looked up at him after a few moments. "Why didn't you run away screaming?" "Why should I have?" "Because your dad hates mine. My father is Blaise Zabini. Draco Malfoy's best friend." My words sunk in. "So you're the girl my dad told me to stay away from." I felt crestfallen. Why had some old mistakes caused me this? I blinked away tears that threatened to fall. He made no move to leave and continued to stare at me. "Why are you still here then?" "You seem like a nice girl and I think we'll be good friends." "What about your dad?" "He'll get over it and besides rules are meant to be broken." Hd said winking. I laughed. Maybe things would not be so bad.
An hour into the train ride, a boy with tan skin and red hair came to our compartment. "James! There you are. Ive been looking everywhere for you." "This Fred. He's my cousin." James told me. "Now who might this pretty girl be?" He said looking at me. I introduced myself to him, waiting for a reaction. "So this is the girl your dad warned you about?" "Yep." "Nice." "As he already told you, I'm Fred, Fred Weasley. My parents warned me too, but you seem nice and I love breaking rules so, let's be best friends." He said with a genuine smile. I nodded. My biggest fears were wiped! I hadn't reached Hogwarts and I already had two friends!
"Anything from the trolley dears?" Said the trolley witch. "Just jelly slugs thanks." I smiled. She handed it to me. I opened it and shared it with the boys. "So which house are you going to be in?" James asked me. "We're certainly gryffindors." Fred finished with a smirk. "I, uh, I think I'll be in um Slytherin." They had a shocked expression but wiped it off quickly. "Well, Slytherin would have gained a brilliant witch then."
The rest of the journey was quite uneventful. We were nearing the castle and I was quite excited! I had heard so many stories of the castle from my dad. We exited the train and walked up to this giant man who was calling all first years to him. I started walking toward him with Fred and James behind me. We reached a large lake with lots of boats. The boys ran ahead and sat on a boat. They beckoned me to them. Honestly, I was still shocked they actually wanted to be my friend! I climbed on with them and we looked at the castle in awe. The ride was relatively silent as we were all mesmerized by the view. The boat ride was over and we were at the entrance to the great hall.
A tiny profesor who introduced himself as professor Flitwick gave us an introductory speech. I listened intently getting more nervous as the time passed. Seeing my face James squeezed my hand and Fred (who was half a foot taller than me) patted my shoulder reassuringly. The large door opened and we walked in. The great hall was everything I imagined. I looked at the celing it was enchanted with the night sky and floating candles. It was beautiful! The sorting ceremony was about to begin. There was a wierd hat that burst into a song. I got quite the shock.
Professor Flitwick called out names. Some girl names Jessica Greene was sorted into Slytherin. Daniel Walker was sorted into Hufflepuff and so on.
"Potter, James." I squeezed his hand and he gave me a small smile and sat on the stool. The hall started murmuring at his name. The hat had barely been placed on his head when it called "gryffindor!" James jumped up in glee and ran to the gryffindor table. "Weasley, Fred." I smiled at him as he sat on the stool. "Gryffindor!" The hat called after a few seconds. Eventually only I was left. "Zabini, y/n." I breathed in trying to calm myself. Dad would love me no matter what house I was in. Grandmother was a different story, but still. Calm yourself y/n. I climbed onto the stool and the hat was on my head. "You are different." The hat told me. "You've got great ambition and thirst to prove yourself and to change the world. But you're also very brave and chivalrous. Where to put you? Better be Slytherin!" I smiled to myself and walked to the Slytherin table. James and Fred smiled at me and threw me a thumbs up.
"Jessica Greene." Said the blonde girl I had seen earlier. "y/n Zabini." I smiled and shook her hand. She smiled. "I think we're going to be great friends." I felt so happy! I had made 3 friends when I thought I'd make none. Headmistress McGonagall gave us a welcome speech and gave a list of forbidden places and objects; which by the look James and Fred shared and then gave me; they intended to break all of them. i giggled to myself. Hogwarts truly was a magical place. After the speech was over, the tables magically filled up with the most delicious smelling food ever! I immediately piled my plate with a variety of dishes. " You look like you've never seen food before." snorted Jessica. "I have seen food before, just not as good!" I proceeded to finish up my food while conversing with Jessica and the rest of my housemates. They were all very nice, none of them having pureblood only ideas. the feast ended and we were led to the common rooms. The Slytherin common room was in the dungeons. It was green and very cozy. i liked the vibe of the place. i shared my dorm with only 3 other girls since there were only 4 slytherin girls in first year. My bed was beside the window and i loved it!
Jessica decided that since there were so few of us, we needed to bond and stick together. So after all of had got dressed we sat down in a circle and introduced ourselves. "I'm Abigail Larson." said the girl with long brown hair and green eyes. The other girl introduced herself as Anika Smith." she had tan skin and deep brown eyes with dark brown hair. The four of spoke till late that night. I woke up a bit early the next morning, excited for our first day. I got dressed into my school robes and then went to wake up the others. Anika and Abigail woke up easily while Jessica was a whole different story. "Five more minutes." she groaned. "Ok sleepy head, but if we miss our first day of classes i doubt the teachers will be happy. She groaned again but woke up anyway. While i waited i wrote a letter to my father. I told him about my house, the sorting and my new friends." I had just finished the letter when Jess was ready. "Ready to go?" i nodded and the four of us head out to the great hall.
I split from the group so i could owl the letter. I was on my way to the owlery when i felt an arm wrap around my waist and another around my shoulder. "Well, look who it is Fred! Our little snakey friend." " Why yes it is james, say y/n already forgotten about us have you?" I giggled at the comment. "Ofcourse not! I was just about to send this letter before you two slowed me down." "Our sincerest apologies." said James not looking sincere in the slightest. They continued to follow me to the owelery talking among themself. i quickly tied the letter around my owl's leg and gave him a few treats before he took off. " Lets head to breakfast before we get late yeah?" "oh little Zabini, ever the punctual girl." Said Fred snickering slightly. I hit him in the arm and walked toward the great hall. I bid they boys goodbye and sat at the slytherin table with my friends.
First year passed by relatively fast. I topped most of my classes and was the favourite student of most of the professors. Potions was my favourite class, closely followed by charms. The year was at it's end and Fred, James and I were walking by the black lake. I kicked at a pebble before turning to the boys. "Did you tell your parents that you were friends with me?" i asked hesitantly. "Not exactly, no." they said. "Our parents would not be too happy about that." "I understand." i said sadly. I should have known,their family wouldn't welcome me with open arms would they now. "Don't be sad little snake. We'll figure it out. I promise." i smiled.
I sat in the train carriage with the girls, excited to be home. I was top of the class, a slytherin and the teachers loved me. Grandmother would be pleased. Dad, well he is proud of everything i achieve and i love him for it. During the ride James and Fred walked in. "Hello ladies, mind if we borrow our little friend here for a minute?" They nodded and I walked out of the cabin with the boys. "So we have come up with a plan for you to meet us during break without our parents getting to know." I looked at Fred and motioned him to go on. "Our close friend and fellow gryffindor, Alec Thomas lives near diagon alley. We have made a plan to meet him during the break at his house. We spoke to him and he agreed to let us stay over at his place during break. If you could come to diagon alley around the 13th of july (thats my birthday lol) we could meet up for ice cream!" "That seems like a good plan." I said thoughtfully. I was planning on telling dad about the boys anyway, this could work. They grinned. The train sounded as we drew nearer to the station. I grabbed my bag and got ready to get off at the station. I hugged the girls who had grown to become my best friends although i was closest to Jessica.
I walked around the station looking for my father. "Y/N!" His voice came. I dragged my trunk and ran to him. He pulled me in for a hug. "I missed you so much!" "I missed you too dad and i have some great news!" I told him about all my achievements and my new friends. "Your grandmother will certainly be proud. She missed you although she won't admit it." I giggled at that. We apparated home where grandmother was waiting for us. A there was a man behind her whom i did not recognize. He must be her new husband! Yeah, grandmother changed husbands like she changed clothes. I went and hugged her. "How was school?" "It was great!" I told her too of all my achievements and dad was right, she was proud of me.
The days flew by quickly. I received an owl from James asking me how I was and reminding me of our meeting in a few days. Right. I had yet to tell my dad about them. I would do it now. As i was preparing to tell him the door opened and there he was. "Hey darling." "Dad I need to tell you something." "Okay." he said cautiously. "I am friends with James Potter and Fred Weasley. Please don't be mad." He smiled at me. "I am not mad dear. In fact i am happy for you. You have made so many friends! And besides I am not going to control who you are friends with. It isn't fair. But darling, be careful. James and Fred may be nice but their family won't accept you easily." "I know that. And i will be careful. Besides, they have asked me to meet with them this week at diagon alley, Can I go daddy?" He thought about it and and sighed. "Alright. You can go." "Thankyou so much!" I hugged him.
On the morning of the day I had to meet the boys I woke up early out of sheer excitement. I ran down and ate breakfast quickly. Grandmother looked shocked to see me up early but didn't comment. I ran up to my bedroom and got dressed. "Ready to go?" Dad asked coming into my bedroom. "Yep!" We were going to get my school stuff before I met the boys. We apparated to diagon alley. Dad said he had some work to do and told me to go and buy some quills and ink in the mean time. As I left the shop my father walked toward me grinning, holding something behind his back. "As a reward for doing so well, I decided to get you this." It was a broom! Oh I loved quidditch. I used to play with dad and uncle Draco sometimes. Scorpius never liked the sport. "Thankyou so much!" It was one of the best brooms out there. Oh I'm definitely trying out for quidditch this year. He patted my back. "Looks at the time! You'll get late to meet your friends. I'll get the rest of your stuff. You go ahead." I bid him goodbye and ran to the ice cream parlour.
There on a small table were James Potter and Fred Weasley. "Hello boys." I said as I walked up to them. They greeted me cheerfully. We ordered our ice cream and sat down. "Shit!" Said James loudly. He frantically pointed at the window. I looked to see what on earth was bothering him when lo and behold the famous Harry Potter was walking toward the shop. "What do we do?" Mr Potter had already seen us so I couldn't exactly run away. "Don't mention your last name no matter what ok." Fred told me. "Hey kids." Said Mr Potter. "What brings you here dad?" James asked a bit nervously. "Oh I was just in a meeting near by and thought I'd come say hi to you both. I called Dean up and he said the two of you had come here to meet a friend who I'm assuming is this young lady here." He said pointing at me. I shot him a nervous smile, not quite knowing how to react. "Yes. Dad that is y/n. She's in our year. Top of the class." "It's great to meet you." "You too sir." I started to get nervous and I think James noticed because he said. "Dad it's getting late we better get going. Good bye!" Mr Potter looked confused but left anyway. "I'd better leave too boys. See you at school." They hugged me goodbye and I went to find my dad.
***
Fourth year
The whole incident was long forgotten. The boys and I became very close. We decided not to meet such a way ever again. The stress was too much for me.
The boys had decided that it would be fun for them to join me and the girls on our train journeys and while eating dinner ever since Albus and Scorpius had been sorted into slytherin in our third year. My friends gave me suggestive looks but eventually got bored of it and accepted the boys joining us. The train journey wasn't that different this year. "Hello ladies." Said Fred sliding into the compartment. We greeted them with a chorus of hellos. Fred sat down opposite me beside Abi. Although there was a ton of space next to him, James squeezed himself next to me almost pushing Anika off her seat. She glared at him and stood up muttering coulourful words while setting herself next to Abi. "How was you guys' summer?" He asked. "It was terrible!" I cried. It truly was. "Hey! you spent half of your summer with me." Said Jessica in mock offense. "Jess, you know what i mean." She simply smirked. "What happened?" James asked. "Well, for starters I had to help set up this stupid wizarding gala with my grandmother. She wanted to show off and sell her jewelry to other folk while at the same time hosting a ball like thing, whih mind you was boring as hell. The only people who showed up were stuck up old ladies. They had brought along their reluctant grandsons who i am sure my grandmother wanted as a potential suitor for me, and had she had her way it would have been so, but my dad would not allow it. Anyway, I spent a week of my break in that way." I finished with a sigh. I could see how badly everyone wanted to laugh or sympathize with me. "Go ahead and laugh." Everyone burst out laughing and i found myself laughing too.
We spent the rest of the journey laughing and having a gala time. We reached hogwarts and watched the sorting. Slytherin had gained 9 new students. We heard the standard starting of the year speech and tucked in. We chatted merrily until bedtime like every year. It had become a tradition to chat all night on the first day of school. I went to bed that night with a smile on my face.Hogwarts is truly a magical place.
Today was the first day of classes. I had dropped divination and taken arithmacy instead. I had heard it was a wonderful subject. Professor Howard took arithmacy and he was a brilliant teacher. I truly loved the class. I sat down at my place when in noticed a head of shaggy black hair in front of me. "James?" I asked surprised. "Y/n!" James said. "I didn't know you took this class." "Neither did I. But apparently I do now." He joked. "Only kidding. I never took divination after hearing how boring it was from my dad." 'Why don't we sit together?" He nodded and jumped over his seat and onto the one next to me. "You could have just walked you know that right?" He just grinned and shrugged innocently. I just rolled my eyes.
Fourth year wasn't as bad as i thought it would be. I actually quite enjoyed it. I was sitting by the black lake. "I need your help!" came the voice of Scorpius Malfoy, following behind him was Albus Potter. "Whats up Scorp?" "Well, I like this girl and want to ask her out. But I think she hates me." "Who is this girl?" I asked. "It's my cousin, Rose." Albus cut in. Rose Granger Weasley. Another person who hated people like Scorp and me, it was because her dad doe s not like ours, but unlike the Potter boys, she refused to change her views. "Well Scorp, you should be nice to her, try being her friend, only then ask her out. If she refuses to be your friend, then I guess she is not worth the trouble. No offense Albus." "None taken. I know that Rose is a bit stuck up which can be pretty annoying." Scorpius looked dejected but nodded nonetheless. I felt a bit bad for him. But I can't really help him can I?
Today is the first quidditch game of the season. Our captain has been working out butts off sine a month. "Ready to get your arses beat?" I smirked at Fred and James. "You wish Zabini." They retorted. I walked to the slytherin changing room where our captain, Elena Johnson was waiting. "Alright. We have worked long and hard for this. Use your strategies and no cheating and we can win." We cheered and got to the pitch. I was a chaser on the team and so was James. I mounted my broom and smirked at him. He smirked back. Madam Hooch blew the whistle and the quaffle was in the air. I dived to catch it, but James caught it first. Dang it. I chased after him to try and catch the quaffle. He threw the quaffle to the hoop and just as it was about to score, my fellow chaser, Andrew caught it. He passed the quaffle to me and I scored! James was behind me now, I threw the quaffle to the third chaser, Ben who threw it at the hoop. We scored again. Slytherin was in the lead and I was ecstatic. The gryffindor chasers were trying their best to up their score. The beaters were sending bludgers left right and centre. Fred knocked a bludger in our direction, not intending to hurt anyone, but unfortunately James had come in the way and he got hit. He was a foot away from me when I saw him fall. The crowd gasped. I don't know what came over me and I dived to catch him. He nearly hit the ground when I broke his fall. I set him on the ground gently. "James. James?" I tried to shake him, but he was unconscious. Madam Hooch took him to the hospital wing and the game continued. I hoped the seeker would catch the snitch because I was unable to focus. My wishes were answered because the snitch was caught and Slytherin won the game.
I should have stayed back to celebrate but I was too concerned about James. I changed and rushed to the hospital wing. He was lying there asleep looking so peaceful. I sat by his bed and looked at him. I think I must have been there a long time because I had fallen asleep and for some reason when I woke up I was holding James' hand. I quickly retracted it. "Y/n? Is that you?" James asked. "Yea, it's me. You took a pretty bad fall there you know?" "I know. I did it so it would not hit you." "What?" "Yes." He said and before I could say anything else he fell asleep again. Typical.
What he said that day never left my mind. He obviously did it because he's my best friend. Right? RIGHT? I voiced my thoughts to Jess but she simply have me a knowing look and was no help at all. I eventually decided to let it go and move on with my life. James seemed to have forgotten he said it too. So I pretended he didn't and we were back to being best friends.
Sixth year
Although I pretended that I had forgotten what James said, I never did. His words kept resounding in my head and he never left my mind. All the tiniest things he did made it seem like he liked me. Although, he's been like that since the start. I spent the entirety of fifth year deciding whether I liked him or I was just being paranoid. Eventually I decided that I did like him and I was just lying to myself saying that I didn't. I told my friends about my revelation when they stayed over during the summer and they all responded with a "Finally!" Or something along those lines. Rude.
After I accepted I had a crush on James, I because hyper aware of him whenever he came near me. I would immediately tense and blush. I think I was pretty obvious but James was oblivious as always. Even Fred noticed and asked me about it. I tried to avoid answering his questions but he is a stubborn prat. I made him swear not to tell anyone and told him of my crush. He jumped and screamed. "I KNEW IT!" he was convinced James liked me too, but how could he? He was my best friend and besides, his father would probably kill him.
Fred seemed to take my confession as a challenge to set us up. He even managed to rope in my friends. They made us sit together I'm class, while eating. They left us alone for long periods of time but nothing. I decided that it was worthless waiting for James since he obviously didn't like me back. I would try move on. It was hard, obviously when I so clearly in love with him.
I was sitting in the library finishing my potions homework when Andrew Higgs came up to me. He was a sweet boy and was in the quidditch team with me. "Hey y/n." "Hey Andrew. What's up?" He rubbed his neck. "Do you want to go to hogsmeade with me?" I was about to say no but then I remembered that I wanted to move on. "Sure!" "Great! I'll see you tomorrow then?" I nodded.
I skipped back happily to my common room. "What's got you so happy?" Abi asked. "I got a date with Andrew." "The chaser?" "Yep!" "But what about James?" "He doesn't like me. I may as well move on." I shrugged. The girls didn't look convinced. I ignored it and left the common room for my prefect rounds. Yes I was a prefect. I had rounds alone today so I had plenty of time to think. I spent most of the year pining after him and now I only have three months left of sixth year. I may as well go on a date or two and see how it works out. As I was lost in my thoughts, I bumped into Fred. "Well well well. Look who is out after curfew." I grinned at Fred. "Is it true you have a date?" I nodded. "Don't go! James will be crushed." "I am going and he's made it clear he doesn't like me. And even if he does maybe this is the push he needs to ask me out." Fred sighed in defeat but headed back to his common room.
The weekend was here. I dressed up in a cosy but warm outfit and left for hogsmeade. I met Andrew at the three broomsticks. He hugged me and pulled out the chair for me. He was a perfect gentleman and was so much fun to talk to, but something was missing. He wasn't James. "This was fun-" I started. "But you don't like me that way?" I sighed. "I'm sorry Andrew, you're a really great person and I'd love to this again but as friends. I don't like you that way." "It's fine. I know you like Potter and it's ok. I like this ravenclaw girl but she doesn't seem to notice me so I thought I'd try to move on." I grinned at him. I bid him goodbye and headed to honeydukes to re stock my candy. I was about to pay for my sweets when fred and James came up behind me. "How was your date Zabini?" Fred asked. "It was ok." I shrugged. "You went on a date?" James asked a bit accusingly. "Yep." "Oh um that's nice. I uh I gotta go." He said practically sprinting out of the shop. " I told you he liked you." "No he does not." I was still in denial. I paid and left the shop.
James started to act wierd since that day. He started to avoid me and barely spoke to me. Heck even Albus and Scorpius noticed it. I asked Fred about it but he always just shrugged. I started spending less time with the boys and more time with my friends.
The year was over and we were on our way home. I decided that I would speak to James no matter what. "James!" "Yes?" He asked avoiding my eyes. "We need to talk." He shuffled nervously and looked at his feet. "Why have you been avoiding me?" "Avoiding you? I have not!" I gave him a look and he gave me a nervous smile. "Look i-" the train stopped and all the students came rushing out. "We'll talk about this later ok?" He said walking away. I sighed. I'll never get anything out of him.
Seventh year
James ignored all my owls that summer. He didn't even respond to the one about me becoming head girl! I told my dad of it and he sighed and patted my back. Fred still spoke to me though. He told me that James wasn't doing so well. He was always moping. That is very unlike him. Summer before my last year was pretty uneventful. Scorpius and his dad spent a lot of time in our house, not that I minded ofcourse. I wrote letters to the girls who were all travelling to different countries. Since it was my last year, I wanted to try interning with a lawyer of the wizengamot just to get a feel of what my life would be like. It was quite fun to be honest. Summer passed quickly and soon I was walking through the platform for the last time as a student. It was a bitter sweet feeling.
I dropped off my stuff in my compartment and chatted with my friends for a while. Since I had become head girl, anika was the replacement prefect. We headed the the prefect compartment where I had to give out duties. I still didn't know who the head boy was but I guess I'd find out. "James? What are you doing here?" He turned around with a guilty look. "I'm head boy." He said. "But you weren't even a prefect!" "I know, it's odd." I glared at him. He ignored me all summer and now I have to share a dorm with him?! What a life.
I ignored his presence and instructed the prefects of their duties and responsibilities. I have them the schedule and sent them off. As I was about to leave James called out my name. "I don't want to hear it Potter." I threw him an icy glare and walked out. My heart hurt. After all this time I still liked him.
After the feast we all headed back to our respective dorms. It was the first time I'd be away from my friends in school since first year. Usually I would have been happy with James as head boy but at the moment I was very angry.
I set my things in my side of the dorm and head downstairs to the common area where James seemed to be waiting for me. "Y/n! Please just listen to me." "No James. I listened to you last year during school, in the train, I sent you letters but you never responded to them. I think you've lost your chance." I said turning around. He grabbed my wrist and kissed me. I found myself kissing him back.
Realising what I did I pulled away. "No you can't do that! You can't just ignore me and then kiss me!" "I'm sorry I did that to you. When you went on that date with Andrew I got jealous. I was going to tell you I liked you that day but then you went on a date with him and I just snapped I guess. I thought if I distance myself from you my feelings would go away but they didn't. They just became stronger. That's why I didn't answer your letters and I'm sorry." He said looking genuinely sorry. "Why didn't you just talk to me?" I asked making him look at me. "I don't know, I just felt guilty after a point I guess." I wrapped him in a hug. "I forgive you but please never do that again." "You mean that?" I nodded. He immediately kissed me again. My heart fluttered excitedly in my chest. I pulled away for air. "But James, your dad!" "He'll get over it. For now, I just want to be with you."
We didn't plan on telling our friends they way we did. They walked in on us kissing and boy were they pissed. They got over it though. James and I spent most of our time together. It was quite nice actually. Our NEWTS were coming up and I decided to stay back at Hogwarts for Christmas to study. James stayed back too. We occasionally tried to study together but it always failed.
The NEWTS weren't as hard as they were made to be. I think I did quite well honestly. On our last week of school, James and i called our close friends to the head dorm where they would stay the night and we would have fun. We stayed up for most of the night and i cuddled into James' side. "You two are sickeningly sweet." Fred fake gagged. "It's not like you and Audrey are any better." I stuck my tongue out at him. Audrey was Fred's girlfriend. She was nice. "I will really miss this place." Ani sighed. "Me too." "We made so many memories here!" "Let us all promise to stay friends after hogwarts and for the rest of our lives." Said Fred. "Deal" We all said together.
Our graduation ceremony was everything I imagined and better. We sat in the Hogwarts Express for the last time ever as students. I walked onto the platform and sighed. "There's my dad." I pointed in the crowd. "Can I meet him?" James asked me. "You want to?" He nodded. "If you can't meet my father yet, atleast i can meet yours." He followed me to my dad. "Dad, this is James. He is the boyfriend I told you about.""So you are the handsome young lad who stole my daughter's heart? It's great to meet you son. I hope you're taking good care of my daughter.""It's actually her who takes care of me, but I try my best." Dad chuckled. "Good answer. You've got a good one." He told me. I moved to kiss James on the cheek but he moved his face so i kissed his lips. "I'll see you soon, hopefully." He grinned and walked away. I followed my dad and we apparated home.
James' POV
Just as I was about to find my parents, dad walked upto me. I was startled to say the least. "Who's the girl?" He asked me. "Oh no one." I shrugged nervously. "So you just go around kissing no one?" I laughed nervously. Thankfully mom came and saved me. "Ready to go?" She asked. I ran up to her and we apparated home. I spent a few days avoiding dad. I didn't want to answer unnecessary questions about my girlfriend. Unfortunately luck wasn't on my side for long. I was sitting in our backyard when he sat down beside me.
"So tell me about your girlfriend." Well, there was no escaping this now. "She's really sweet yeah, cares about me alot. She's smart and great at quidditch. She's perfect in my eyes." "And her father, doesn't happen to be Blaise Zabini does he because I remember her with him." I started to get angry. When would he see past this silly prejudices. "Yes dad she is his daughter." "I want you to stay away from her." "DAD NO! YOU CAN'T DO THAT!" I yelled at him. "I can do anything I want because I'm your father. That girl is nothing but trouble. Look at his family tree! A whole lot of death eaters they are." "Her father wasn't a death Eater. And nor is she. She's the best thing to happen to me and you can't make me leave her." "Then you leave us. It's either your family or that girl." "THEN I PICK Y/N! Atleast she doesn't make me pick." "Alright then. Leave." "You can't be serious." "I am." "Fine!" I stormed up to my room and whipped out my wand. I packed my belongings and went to Albus' room. I hugged him and then went and hugged lily and walked out the door. But where would I go? I can't go to Fred's house because dad would obviously find me there. So I apparated to the Zabini manor.
I knocked at the door hoping she would be home. "Coming!" Came her sweet voice. "James? What are you doing here?" She asked looking very confused. "I'll tell you everything, but can I come in first?" "Yeah ofcourse." She let me in and I told her everything. I could see the regret and heart break in her eyes when I told her the story. "Oh James! You shouldn't have left!" "What and break up with you?" "If it means you wouldn't lose your family then, yes!" "But what would I do without you? I love you!" "James, my love, you mean everything to me. But family is always more important. You will find someone else to spend your life with. You need to let go." " I can't do that. I need you." "You need your family more. I'll tell you what. Spend a few days here and then go back. Cool your mind. But I'm not going to be with you if it costs you your entire family James. I love you too much for that." I felt years brimming in my eyes but I nodded. She stopped me in a hug and ran her fingers through my hair.
"Y/n? Who is that?" "It's just James dad. Can he stay here for a few days? He got into a fight with his father." "Alright. I'll tell Jenny to fix up a bedroom for him." "Wait dad, is it ok if he sleeps in my bedroom?" "Ok but only for tonight. And no funny buisness you two. I don't need grandchildren this early." She chuckled lightly and shook her head. We went up to her bedroom and got changed. She lied down and pat the space next to her. I joined her in bed and wrapped my arms around her. "I'll love you forever no matter what." I heard her whisper to me before I fell asleep with the love of my life in my arms.
I had stayed with her for a few days and I had to return home that day. I grudgingly packed my things. I kissed her one last time and apparated home. "So you're back I see." Said dad smugly. "Yes. And only because the girl you hate so much forced me to come back." "See. I told you she would ditch you." I started to get angry. "She did not ditch me. She said she'd rather I break up with her than lose you and my family. But clearly she was wrong." Dad looked a bit embarassed after my out burst. I went back to my room and ignored him for the rest of the day. Albus was the only person I talked too because he understood my situation. He was sad too because he liked her in a sisterly way very much. It was a week after I returned and I was looking at career options when dad knocked on my door.
"I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I realise I was wrong in making you break up with that girl who you clearly love. I spoke with hermione and your mother and they too agreed that what I did was wrong. So I am now here to say you have all our blessings." "Really?" I asked unable to believe my ears. "Thanks dad!" I hugged him. "Now go get her tiger. But wait. I want you to give her this." He pulled out a box with the most beautiful ring. "But dad we're so young!" "I know. It was my mom's. I got it back much after I got married so I kept it for you or Albus.  You don't have to give it to her right now. But if you do, I wish you all the best." He gave me the box and left. I thought about what he said. Maybe I do want to marry her.
I apparated to Zabini manor and frantically knocked the door. The door opened revealing a disheveled y/n. "James? Why are you back i-" I cut her off and firmly kissed her. "I missed you so much." "I missed you too but what about your dad?" "He's ok with it. He realised his mistake." "That's great James! I'm so happy for you!" "Yeah me too. I also wanted to give you this." I got down on one knee and opened the ring box.  "I know we are young, we have so much of our life ahead of us! And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I love you more than words can say my love. So will you y/n Zabini make me the happiest man on earth and marry me?" Her eyes started to water and she smiled at me. "Ofcourse I will! But not right now. I will stay engaged to you but I want to settle down first you know?" "I understand I do. And I totally agree with you. I'm with you all the way." I got up and spun her around.
I heard a sniffle and we jumped apart. "That was cutest proposal ever!" Said Mr Zabini. "Thank you mr Zabini." I grinned. "Well you might as well start calling me dad." There was a knock on the door. "Oh that must be your father James. I called him when you started your speech." The house elf opened the door and I saw my parents and siblings enter. "I guess it's time to make amends." Dad said to mr Zabini, I mean, other dad. "You must be my future daughter in law." "Yes sir. I am." She smiled at him. Mom came up and hugged her. "It's great to finally meet the girl who is going to marry my oldest little boy!" Mom gushed. "Mom!" I said embarassed. They started to mingle among each other and I sighed happily. Things did get better and I could not be happier.
Four years later
It was finally the day I was going to marry the love of my life. I flattened the non existent creases on my black suit when Fred walked in. "Chill out James you look fine." "How is she?" "She's good too." He was my best man and also one of y/n's best guy friends and so he got to see bith of us but we couldn't see each other since a week which was a bit unfair you know? We were engaged for 4 years which is a long time. In that much time, y/n became a lawyer, I became a professional quidditch player.  Time sure flew by.
"Alright James. It's time." Mum said entering my room. "I can't believe you're getting married! It feels like just yesterday you were in diapers." She sniffed. "Mum!" I groaned. "Sorry. Let's go now." I walked to my position on the altar waiting for my beautiful bride to arrive. What felt like hours but was infact only five minutes I saw her. She looked like a godess. Radiance reflected out of her. She looked gorgeous in her white dress. I felt myself tear up as she walked down the aisle with her father. She stood infront of me and grinned.
While the priest spoke I could not take my eyes off her. I was so distracted I didn't realise I had to say my vows. The crowd laughed and I blushed. I recited my vows and so did she.
"I do." "You may now kiss the bride." I was waiting for those words since the start of the week. I kissed her with all the love I held in my heart and the crowd awwd.
At the dinner table fred who was my best man had to give a speech. He spoke of our time in Hogwarts and all the embarassing things I did. Next Jessica who was the maid of honor spoke of y/n's side of things. The guests laughed at our antics. It was time for our first dance. "May I have this dance m'lady" "Yes you may kind sir." She smiled and extended her hand. I pulled her up and we walked to the dance floor. I out my arms around her waist and she on my shoulders. As we swayed to the music I could only think of her.
"I love you Mrs Potter." God I loved saying that. "And I love you Mr Potter."
*********
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tabloidtoc · 3 years
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National Enquirer, November 16
You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks
Cover: Jeffrey Epstein’s madam Ghislaine Maxwell’s nights with Prince Andrew and teen Virginia Roberts Giuffre
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Page 2: Brad Pitt kicked married galpal Nicole Poturalski to the curb after getting flak from his ex Angelina Jolie -- Brad’s relationship with Nicole hit the skids after Brad decided he needed to shore up his image during his ongoing custody battle with Angie and his focus right now is to get his dad image back on track and give Angie no more ammo to fling back at him
Page 3: Tiger Woods’ romance with Erica Herman has gone off course over legal troubles and wedding pressure and bickering over where to live and Tiger is so fed up he’s considering ditching his nagging girlfriend in Florida and moving back to his native California -- Erica’s been pressuring him to put a ring on it ever since she moved into his Jupiter Island mansion and that’s something he just won’t do and she’s already taken over his household buying new furniture and remodeling the master bath and building a new closet and hiring a gourmet chef -- California is looking better and better to Tiger who only moved to Florida to play on its tough Bermuda grass which helped improve his swing but now Tiger’s ex Elin lives in Florida with their two kids 
Page 4: Miranda Lambert is scoffing at ex Blake Shelton’s newly announced engagement to Gwen Stefani and she’s convinced Blake’s third walk down the aisle has failure written all over it because she thinks Blake’s bad to the bone and this marriage will wind up being a total disaster and after the hell Blake put her through Miranda can’t imagine his life with Gwen would be any different, lifelong bachelor Simon Cowell has had a change of heart since his horrific August accident and he’s finally ready to tie the knot with baby mama Lauren Silverman -- after spinal surgery to repair his broken back the entertainment mogul feels lucky to be alive and walking and the one constant in his difficult rehab after surgery has been Lauren and he wants to pay her back with a ring 
Page 5: Train-wreck Wendy Williams’ wacky behavior has TV producers scrambling behind the scenes to find her replacement after her unhinged performance on a recent episode of her talk show where she slurred her words and rambled incoherently -- there had been a hope a chatfest helmed by Nick Cannon could be a safety net should the daytime diva who spent a stint in a sober living house last year not be able to continue hosting but plans for that were pushed back after the comic made anti-Semitic rants in a podcast -- they also tried Jerry O’Connell when Wendy was out for three weeks last year but he tanked with viewers -- Wendy’s a mess and it remains to be seen how long producers will be able to put up with her problems before they decide to pull the plug 
Page 6: Grey’s Anatomy star Ellen Pompeo hinted that she may be making her final rounds -- Ellen who has starred on the show since 2005 and makes $20 million a year admitted she’s considering slipping out of her scrubs after the current season 17 but her departure could spell the end of the beloved series and show creator Shonda Rhimes has said it’s unlikely the show could continue without her but Ellen has also expressed her desire to spend more time with her husband and their three children
Page 7: Mariah Carey’s brother Morgan blasted her memoir as filled with lies and distortions and he’s considering legal action -- the book called Morgan and sister Alison her ex-brother and ex-sister and Mariah wrote Morgan had a long history of violence and when she was six he slammed their mother into a wall -- Mariah also wrote her siblings and mother were heartless in terms of dealing with her as a human being and once she got famous they started treating her like an ATM with a wig on but Morgan is fighting back and looking to hire a lawyer
Page 8: Reese Witherspoon’s marriage to Jim Toth is in the muck after the stunning collapse of his new business venture and tensions are mounting in the Hollywood power couple’s already troubled union now that the streaming service Quibi crumbled after less than six months leaving content acquisition president Jim out of work while Reese’s star continues to rise and there’s a real balance of power that’s been building up and that’s put a serious strain on the relationship -- living in quarantine added to the stress between them as Reese has been holed up with her two kids with ex Ryan Phillippe Ava and Deacon and her son Tennessee with Jim at the family’s ranch in Malibu
Page 9: Dementia patient Kenny Rogers cut his three adult children out of his $250 million will and now sources fear the late country legend could have been tricked into signing the document -- Kenny left everything to his 16-year-old twins sons with fifth wife Wanda and the will also stated it was his intent to specifically exclude his daughter Carole with his first wife and son Kenny Jr. with third wife and son Christopher with fourth wife and their issue as beneficiaries of his estate -- Kenny Sr. would never disown his own children according to the source especially since the singer’s son Kenny Jr. is incorrectly referred to Kenny Rogers III throughout the will -- the wording is not like Kenny Sr. and something is not right and his older kids are thinking about contesting the will 
Page 10: Hot Shots -- Kate McKinnon shot a Saturday Night live skit in NYC, Sophia Bush hit the road in L.A. with her co-pilot pup Maggie, pregnant Jinger Duggar Vuolo in Venice with daughter Felicity, Heidi Klum walking the streets in her native Germany, Snoop Dogg saluted young rappers as he accepted BET’s I Am Hip Hop award 
Page 11: Unwitting Jennifer Aniston and Gerard Butler once dabbled in the secret sex cult NXIVM -- the organization masqueraded as a self-help group but in 2017 it was exposed as a pyramid scheme for founder Keith Raniere who forced high-ranking female recruits to become his sex slaves -- in 2010 Jen and Gerry who were dating at the time wound up at one of the introductory seminars but they were turned off by the level of commitment expected and never returned -- they thought it was just a networking opportunity and had no idea what they were getting themselves into, cash-crunched Gwyneth Paltrow is facing hard times like everyone else and is looking to change her free-spending ways -- the belt-tightening caused by the coronavirus pandemic has even hit her lifestyle empire Goop causing her to shut down the London branch and make hard choices for the future -- Gwyneth may be worth $100 million but she and husband Brad Falchuk spend money like it’s going out of style on private jets they use on a whim and they own a fleet of fancy cars and pay steep salaries for staff who are at their beck and call 24/7 and it’s all draining their bank accounts -- they’re looking at making cuts across the board from personal trainers and chefs and drivers to the masseurs and beauticians who come to their house several times a week -- plus the couple believe it’s a bad look for them to be living so high on the hog when the rest of the world is suffering during the pandemic
Page 12: Straight Shuter -- Angelina Jolie spent years developing her own version of the Hollywood classic Cleopatra and now she’s livid that Gal Gadot has stolen the Egyptian queen -- Angie’s dream was to play Cleopatra the role that made Elizabeth Taylor an icon and it was to be the part that won Angie an Academy Award for Best Actress and now that’s over thanks to Gal who will be playing the Queen of the Nile instead, after ABC scrapped plans to honor Regis Philbin with a prime-time tribute Jimmy Kimmel insisted on honoring Regis on Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?, MSNBC talking head Rachel Maddow is fleeing New York for her Massachusetts farm after hanging a $2.3 million price tag on her NYC pad but Rachel didn’t want potential buyers looking through all the personal stuff at her apartment so all the personal pictures and books and clothing and everything else was shipped out and replaced with staged furniture, Ariel Winter and her dog (picture) 
Page 13: Ailing Joni Mitchell opened up about how she’s still struggling to get back to her old self five years after a debilitating brain bleed -- after Joni was found unresponsive in her Bel-Air home in 2015 she said she was forced to relearn everyday tasks because the aneurysm took away her speech and her ability to walk and although she’s showing slow improvement she hasn’t been writing or playing the guitar or the piano, Randy Travis is defying all the odds as he plans the greatest comeback in country music history as he is making amazing progress after suffering a massive 2013 stroke that most believed would end his career forever and he was given just 1% chance of survival and even after he pulled through doctors believed he would be bedridden and unable to speak -- instead his grueling rehab efforts have miraculously put him on the road to realizing his dream of returning to the spotlight -- some of his motivation is financial; last year he sold his Nashville home and released his memoir which was fueled by his need to pay medical expenses after years of not being able to perform
Page 14: Hollywood Hookups -- Channing Tatum and Jessie J have split again, Cole Sprouse and Reina Silva dating, Kate Beckinsale and Goody Grace split 
Page 15: Ariana Grande is raising eyebrows with her raunchy new record Positions -- the former squeaky-clean Nickelodeon star who has been dating real estate agent Dalton Gomez spouted off X-rated odes to an unnamed lover on the LP, six months after sidelining her marriage to former quarterback Jay Cutler Kristin Cavallari admitted there are good days and bad days but insisted it’s been nice to be able to focus on herself and figure out who she is now and what she ultimately wants out of life, hotel heiress Kathy Hilton is joining The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills as a friend of the main cast which includes her half-sister Kyle Richards
Page 16: Crime 
Page 17: On Drew Barrymore’s talk show a psychic guest channeled the spirit of one of the host’s former in-laws but the man in question is very much alive -- medium Anna Raimondi told Drew she sensed the aura of a judge causing Drew to burst into tears and named David a relative of her ex-husband Will Kopelman claiming he’d passed but Judge David Kopelman is alive and still going strong -- Will slammed Anna was a submental hack and said he was surprised that Drew chose to give oxygen to someone like that
Page 18: American Life 
Page 20: Cover Story -- Prince Andrew is desperate to quash explosive testimony by his pedophile pal Jeffrey Epstein’s accused madam Ghislaine Maxwell but the socialite’s second secret deposition is torpedoing his return from royal exile -- after Ghislaine danced around details of her relationship with the disgraced Duke of York in testimony released a few weeks ago Andrew is sweating bullets about her second grilling under oath which contains details of their intimate friendship and nights with Epstein’s teen sex slave Virginia Roberts Giuffre 
Page 22: Don McLean viciously slammed ex-wife Patrisha Shnier as the worst person her ever knew but in their ongoing war of words she maintains he was abusive to her -- Don is still bitter over a 2016 domestic incident at their home in Maine that landed him behind bars and led to divorce after 30 years of marriage
Page 26: Matthew McConaughey confessed he nearly turned his back on Tinseltown to be a wildlife guide like late Crocodile Hunter Steve Irwin -- he made a splash in a string of blockbuster rom-coms in the ‘90s and ‘00s but he was eager to move on to meatier movies and even passed on a $14.5 million paycheck in 2010 to seek more substantial roles and the struggle left him considering other careers such as a wildlife guide, Jamie Foxx has been crushed by the death of his beloved sister DeOndra Dixon who was born with Down syndrome
Page 28: Good Catch -- Bachelor stars who are still up for grabs -- Jon Hamm, Owen Wilson, Drew Carey
Page 29: Benicio Del Toro, Ryan Seacrest, Matthew Perry, some stars seem to say I do at the drop of the hat -- Larry King, Jerry Lee Lewis, Billy Bob Thornton 
Page 32: Olivia Munn was caught on camera flashing what looked like engagement bling on her left ring finger as she exited a gym following a morning workout in Los Angeles but she reportedly broke up with boyfriend Tucker Roberts last year leaving fans wondering who bought the stunning sparkler 
Page 36: Health Watch 
Page 42: Red Carpet -- Michelle Pfeiffer 
Page 45: Spot the Differences -- Allison Janney on Mom 
Page 47: Odd List 
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aokane-eldarya · 4 years
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Thomas ASTRUC : “In season 4, it will be a bomb by episode. This is the equivalent of the impact of a Cat Blanc episode in each episode.” Sebastien THIBAUDEAU : “All your certainties will be upset. And it will also be the season of the episode 100, it will be necessary to watch it.” - Translation of a French interview -
Interview made by Damien Mercereau for "Le Figaro"
INTERVIEW - Meeting with the creator, the executive producer and the writers of the tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir on the sidelines of the broadcast, this Sunday morning on TF1, of the finale of season 3.
After a first introductory season of the Miraculous universe and a second season in which Ladybug and Cat Noir were able to deepen their learning of budding superheroes, the third season was the testing of the heroine, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. In the heart of Paris, this shy and clumsy junior high school student has become in spite of herself Ladybug, an assertive superheroine. At her side, handsome Adrien Agreste, humble and sensitive, turns into a very confident and enterprising Cat Noir. Both don't know who is behind their costume.
Together, they fight Hawkmoth and Mayura and their army of super-villains. New miraculous and new powers have appeared in season 3 broadcast since last April on TF1, strengthening the potential of heroes. In parallel with this struggle between good and evil, the series also relates the tormented life of a small group of Parisian junior high school students, their friendships, their passions, their first love stories, their joys, their sorrows... In the middle of all this, there is Marinette's unconfessed love for Adrien and the fact that each of them becomes closer, respectively, from Luka and Kagami.
A few days ago, we met Miraculous's masterminds in a Paris office during their writing workshop... of the season 5 : Thomas Astruc, the creator of the series, Sebastien Thibaudeau, writing director and executive producer and screenwriters Mélanie Duval and Frédéric Lenoir.
LE FIGARO : What was the general idea of this season 3 of Miraculous?
Mélanie DUVAL : Very familiarly, we wrote the episodes telling us that Marinette was going to have hard times. She begins her school year by losing her place in the class. She already had Chloe as an enemy, she ended up with a second one, Lila. The love of her life is coveted by another ... She is overwhelmed!
Thomas ASTRUC : It was a season focused on Master Fu (the guardian of the miraculous, ed) and at the same time a test of Marinette. To pull our characters up, we have to agree to make them fall very low. Many things happen, shaken up and end in the final. The series could have stopped there with this bittersweet end. Nothing is predictable in Miraculous.
Is there a real chronology to respect following the episodes?
Sebastien THIBAUDEAU : Each story is an entry point, we give back all the necessary information for a non-initiate to the universe of Miraculous to understand.
Thomas ASTRUC : There are seasonal chronologies. The stories of the first season must precede those of the second one, which themselves must be before the third one. But each season has a particular taste with, in its first episode, an overview. In the middle, a set that can be viewed in almost any order where each episode will bring new information. And in the end, a last episode where all the pieces of the puzzle fit together. This is a serie that you can watch many times, you will always discover something new.
Sebastien THIBAUDEAU : In the first season, we had tested things like showing Chloe who plays to dress up as Ladybug. This started the development of her character. Gradually, we began to sow elements that made sense later.
How came the idea of the episode called "Cat Blanc" that shows what would happen in the future if the two heroes fell in love with each other?
Thomas ASTRUC : This is an episode that required a year of writing work and we finally see only small bits of what we had originally imagined. The TV channels had validated the first version (TF1 in France, Disney Channel in the United States and Gloob in Brazil, ed) but we had decided to review our copy. It is extremely rare for authors to make such a decision, but for us it was not good enough. We still did not have enough control over the world of our characters to be able to write it correctly, we had to take our time.
Sebastien THIBAUDEAU : We wrote flashbacks that I did not believe. They did not fit the mentality of our characters. We stopped everything to start from scratch with the initial idea : what would happen if Marinette and Adrien were together and if Adrien knew that Marinette was hiding from him that she was Ladybug ? It took us an extra week. Once this work was done, we were able to focus on the present of the heroes and disseminate plots of our flashbacks. We still have scenes that we loved but were not used for lack of space. Initially, Cat Blanc was a season 2 episode but it finally took place at the end of season 3.
Does the story of Cat Blanc annihilate the possibility of a love relationship between Marinette and Adrien?
Thomas ASTRUC : The episode Cat Blanc does not close the possibility of a relationship between them but it shows how delicate it would be. They are both heroes, the villain wants to steal their miraculous so a romantic relationship would be like dynamite. It is to be treated carefully, it could not happen anyhow or anytime. A priori, as long as a villain is looking for their miraculous, it will be complicated... Since the beginning, we know that if they know their respective secret identity, it would be enough for one or the other to have a negative emotion for to be akumatized and give Hawkmoth what he wants. With the episode Cat Blanc, you now know what would happen if they were in a relationship.
In the episode "Timetagger", you gave us another projection of the future of Ladybug and Cat Noir...
Thomas ASTRUC : The future is not fixed - that's what the episode Cat Blanc could demonstrate. But we can afford to assert certain things because we have a very long-term vision of the series and we know where we want to bring it. Time travel is often double-edged. A child will consider this phenomenon for the first time while a teenager or an adult will have other references like Terminator, Back to the Future, Doctor Who and be more critical. Paradoxically, a child will understand things more naturally.
Frédéric LENOIR : We master the universe of the series so it's easy to play with our characters and to confront them to different situations. We seek above all to build stories that are interesting and understandable.
Thomas ASTRUC : We think that what children do not know, they learn. When they are confronted with new things in Miraculous, we become their first explanation. It does not matter if they do not immediately understand some winks, they can understand them later. The names of the protagonists, the costumes of the superheroes, the places ... There are a multitude of small clues to dig which are full of cultural information. For example, the story of Master Fu's girlfriend in "Backwarder" is a tribute to the grandmother of our screenwriter Frédéric Lenoir who is a former resistance fighter. We called her Marianne Lenoir.
What values do you wish to convey through the episodes of Miraculous?
Mélanie DUVAL : We are sensitive to the impact of pop culture on young people. We are very careful not to show in the series some things that could have a bad influence on their imagination. I remember having hated this figure given here or there to the class-nerd abused by his comrades. In Miraculous, we have the sportsman, the nerd, the good friend, the nuisance... But nobody is abused. We show a kind of ideal where the big sporty can be the best friend of the intellectual. And facing a negative character like Chloe, the question is not going to be how to make her nice, but rather how to react to her. Her friend Sabrina is abused but she did not say her last word.
Thomas ASTRUC : This degree of submission to the bad person is something that we have to deal with. But to achieve this, we must first establish the basics, show the facts and behaviors. Sabrina's problem requires time to be effectively settled.
Frédéric LENOIR : If you approach and solve a problem too quickly, you may treat it too mechanically and theoretically. Our principle is to approach each theme in a constructive and rewarding way. We go over what should not be done because we strongly believe in what has to be done. Our characters also believe in it. We always try to go to the light.
Sebastien THIBAUDEAU : We are careful to show things that are right, to convey good values and this leads us to have long philosophical debates during our writing workshops. You can spend a whole day thinking about the meaning of an episode. When we meet parents who tell us that what we tell their child is good, we are really flattered.
What is waiting for us in season 4?
Mélanie DUVAL : This is the season when the characters really take control of the series.
Thomas ASTRUC : In season 3, Marinette suffered and in season 4, it will be a bomb by episode. This is the equivalent of the impact of a Cat Blanc episode in each episode. Everyone will be flabbergasted. She has new responsibilities and she is maturing. At the site level, after the Grévin museum and the Saint-Martin canal, we will visit the Swan Island.
Sebastien THIBAUDEAU : Season 4 is the one that surprised us the most. All your certainties will be upset. And it will also be the season of the episode 100, it will be necessary to watch it. And a special episode will wait before the release of season 4. Many events will mark the year 2020.
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deviationdivine · 5 years
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Wake Up | domestic!Android AU Part 1 (Connor x Reader)
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gif by arsuf 
F!reader x Connor
13.6k words
Detroit: Become Human - 1 Year Anniversary Release Celebration
A revolution may divide the city but it will never divide you...
tw: Angst, Fluffy Connor in the midst, Language, Suggestive Themes, Violence
a/n: First part of mini-series AU “Wake Up”. An introductory chapter one. Apologies for how long this took but I struggled and I am not happy with the end result. However, it’s finally here. • Connor is the latest high tech domestic model built with a collection of extra features, skills and functions making him the most advanced of his kind. As your personal assistant he is equipped with becoming the perfect partner if you so require. Falling in love with your personal android was never part of the equation nor was his break into deviancy...
“My name is Connor. I am your personal assistant. My features will allow me to take extensive care of your home, do the cooking, mind children and repair any problematic issues that arise within the household’s utilities. 
As I am the most advanced make I can perform various tasks including but not limited to acts of a sexual nature. If you so require I am capable of being the perfect partner…”
Perfect is a conceptual illusion in every sense or so you come to believe. Why do humans think in terms of excellence when most shining examples tarnish in glaring flaws? Even technology can be made wrong or needing improvement not long after distribution. Faulty wiring, danger of overheating and causing harm of a radioactive proponent all seem minuscule in comparison. 
Today, in the future, there is a grander blueprint mapping out the most innovative, extreme to date.
When it becomes alive, mimics the very corporeal state of being born unto humans since man breathed life in this vast universe, mirroring visage of those who wish to create in their likeness.
How does it go from technological wonder to abstruse thinking? Concepts can be a greater weapon. They can also reach for too much too soon. Is this the true state of AI meant for consumer consumption?
Cart them off exclusively as merchandise no matter how human they look. Isn’t that their appeal? The more something foreign, inexplicable but resembles us the more it is accepted. Basic instinctual deep thinking bred into all humans. Difference is an attest beneath surface value. Judge a book by a cover but if there are features hiding its distinct nature by all means use it.
Laziness might be a better solution in this mathematical equation. Imperfect perfection makes way for future development. Those are the very elements that change the world.
Can you even imagine for one second, one little point in life it would come to change yours? So small in a world full of billions but here in Detroit home of Cyberlife and its creation the pilot sparks. Alight with technological revolution.
Androids are here. Androids are owned. Bought as slaves to humanity and used beyond measure, no consideration that those made in image could possibly develop feelings. Emotions are heavy. They are what make us all human. Can machine truly become human?
  You never wanted one. Mostly it made you uncomfortable witnessing cruelty by specific ‘owners’ on the bustling city streets. It’s everywhere. Even today, chillier, more specifically a frigidity creeping into bones.
Eyes shift over a couple walking briskly as you draw coat closer together up throat. Keeping wind seeping through to tangle around your body but watching them waltz their merry way without care. Of course they have none. Their female android, an AX400 to be exact, is taking care of two rowdy children.
Honestly it must be nice. Not having to parent after deciding to add more to the burdening populace. Maybe that’s just your pessimism talking. Simple fact though? Could be that too but who knows?
Just another one of those days but it is about to change drastically. Passing a Cyberlife store does pique curiosity. Window displays my God. They line them up as if that’s all they are.
They offer whatever a human wants and yet not all can bother to treat them fairly. Is it enough androids are made to look as everyone else? Would a genuine human being treat another so despicably? Yes. A resounding yes because it never goes away. People treat people with disdain for every reason, every prejudice and why should that shock? Androids have become an additional target. 
Honestly it makes you sick. Never did you once realize this is what would change things completely. On this very day, minding business walking home from another tiring bustle  
More than one occurrence struck you right in the gut. A previous household model absorbs brunt of   obscenities and physical humiliation. A scene like this turned your stomach. 
The moment it came to intervene you received an interrupting phone call. Unfortunately this was the start of big changes in your life.
What does one do discovering death of a relative? Closeness is a fundamental of familial connections. For you? Well, let’s say it didn’t quite work out.
  “What do you mean he…died?” Answering in a quiet breath, cell phone a tight clutch in hand stalling in breezy climate, everything stops around your personal orbit.
“Y/N, I’m sorry,” a familiar voice speaks over your ingenious disbelief.
Ignoring your pleas for a proper answer it becomes increasingly cruel on the woman’s breath digging truths in your ear. Whether she realizes this or not it’s up for debate. “You do realize this was coming. It isn’t as if he were young and healthy. Frankly, I am surprised you are having such a negative reaction.”
Negative is exactly the type of reaction! What does she expect? “Of course I’m having a reaction!” Practically screaming into your phone made the chilled air sting worse. How is this happening? How can this even be real?
“Oh, it’s all right, Y/N. Get it out now. It’ll be better if you don’t make a scene at the funeral.”
Anger is a burning pyre ready to fan over and incinerate. One snide comment reminds how much you can’t stand this person. She’s not even blood related. An ‘aunt’ isn’t technically qualified to hold the title and that’s fine. Just another excuse to dig at you in this family but there is no family left. Your father – he’s dead.
Money fixes everything? Unlikely but still nothing surprises you more than receiving something from an estranged parent. Generous sums to a black sheep or as you’re sure greedy auntie bitch of the hour calls you behind your back. She is one woman who deserves that damn moniker. Especially when it’s clear there are no connections left. Aunt Cruella, as christened ages ago by your best friend, made short work of your uncle. Certainly bled him dry continues to do so with his left over money after he succumbed to stress in a massive heart attack. Why do people like her thrive using, snide and heartless while others –?
What can you do then? Except you fall into an overwhelming sense of losing time and never extending an olive branch. Why is the universe so cruel? Why can’t you turn back time, forget every stupid thing that ever happened to drive a rift?
Part of you couldn’t stand the idea of being alone rest of your life. Maybe that’s why using part of a small deposit felt right. Watching so many gradually fall into current technological commercialism lead to most having their own android. It seems almost a little too barbaric making them cater to every whim. Honestly, you have no idea why this is needed. Do you really need him? 
No, he isn’t… He. Yes, he. 
Despite manufacturing Connor is a he in every sense.  Even then you saw as much. Now is much more complicated or you are just as ridiculously naive as you’ve always been told. Who cares about naivety? It is simple opinion. No. This is a belief one that surely would have left nothing to you in an event of final family member’s passing. Yet here you are with him.
You recall when he first arrives unaware of how efficient Cyberlife retail truly is. Why should you be surprised? Deliveries have gone from generic dairy of yesteryear, beyond personalized grocery orders and straight to personalized beings. Androids: alive or not alive?
In conjunction with preprogramming he sounds so lively. In his voice a natural husky dulcet and his eyes a deep soulful brown. Souls in androids are impossible but it’s the only way you think to describe warm chocolate. Hotter than a mug of it steeped in whip cream vanishes as a ghost beneath steaming liquid. 
Flecks of caramel shine in hypnotic swirls enriching accents of russets in muddy hues, the very first thing captivating attention as he offers his list of functions. Even falling upon the last is difficult to decipher how caught up you are in a consummately asymmetrical visage. 
He is far too pretty to look at and you try to ignore these facts. The facts of your newly purchased personal android possessing an aura of physical attractiveness. A fabrication in aesthetics you remember. A way to cover up what he actually is beneath soft synthetic skin dusted as constellations of freckles. 
Tiny beauties cresting upon sharp cheekbones, chiseled jaw, purposely formed to elicit a reaction. This is not at all what you expected but it’s never something to forget. Little do you realize in this moment Connor will always burn brightest to memory? Little do you understand how events will unfold but they shall.
  “Is there a problem?” he asks habitual to programming. 
Societal protocols run a gamut through system piecing together the best course of action. It is only his first day interior of your home. He is of a sense of determination to complete whatever task you assign. 
Determination is not part of proper function. However, he minded the concept. It will be efficient for current issue. “I may be able to rectify your issue. What do you require of me?”
 Require? What?
You cough, inhaling sharply at his head cocking so innocently. A droop of hair flutters atop forehead as a sole rebel willing to fight immaculate armies. He is very well put together. Not that you mean the whole manufactured part! He just – looks like a really good looking guy who takes care of his appearance. Hair mostly but…
Wow, Y/N. Real nice for your first try at handling a conversation with an android.
Not that this is the first android you’ve been in contact with. Difficult not to be when they’re all over but as your very own?
OK Cyberlife! What is up with making him look like real life Prince Charming?  I mean look at this perfection. Is this required? Are they allowed to do this to poor unsuspecting humans?
Watching his brows furrow and LED flutter amber somehow pumps the beats of heart faster. Surely it’s a dead giveaway. It’s not every day you’re cursing Cyberlife for practically throwing a chiseled Greek god at you.
Oh, shit, really? Greek God? What the hell is wrong with you? What isn’t wrong with you?
You sigh, clicking tongue at yourself. Frustration doesn’t begin with this!
“Your stress levels are high,” Connor offers a reading of initial scan. “Would you like me to remedy the problem? I have several possible functions that may reduce anxiety. My model comes with every physical attribute you are familiar with in human anatomy.”
A hitch stoppers breathing. Just enough as eyes widen a little at his declaration. Human anatomy as in…? Oh. OH.
Your eyes shift down. Fixating right on his crotch sends a luscious shiver through body. Goosebumps prickle skin, hair standing up on them. First time in forever you’ve had this type of reaction. Not even your ex managed to make you quiver like this. Not that your mind is even there because that’s been over for so long. Frankly that cheating asshole can have his baby momma all to himself. Probably already banged a couple more unsuspecting fools; you clear throat, scratchier than before.
“Connor, that-that’s really nice!” Agreeing with him that he has nice features you laugh nervously. It’s the first day he’s been here and already he’s mentioning his, uh, included *assets* and it’s not his beautiful eyes either. Ah, shit. Why is he made to be a young, attractive male? “But I don’t think that’s necessary. Not right now.”
It only takes a moment before you hear what came out of your mouth. Right now meaning it’ll be fine later?
“Which isn’t to say I’ll need it later!” Damage control is literally a creator of chaos. Can he just not look so sweet giving these heady ideas? “Just come with me. You’ll need a place to stay. I mean, you are staying here but I mean…” Shit! He’s made this impossible without stammering all over the place. Who gives him the right?
The android’s lips drop open, inevitably looking to provide another set of options but he snaps his mouth shut. Blinking in assessment of his actions to “argue” with your dismissal, Connor pushes away several warnings popping into visual. They are unexpected and not part of his programming.
Instead of speaking he follows your lead, gaze soft and quizzical. Trailing as a newly trained puppy the latest model of Cyberlife’s domestic line becomes further entranced with chirping outside window. No longer able to abide by strict attention he tilts his head at passing pane. Sounds of birds in song flitter and perch on external sill; one ruffles its feathers cleaning with its beak. The other stands still.
He freezes. Both in movement and system analysis he is however conscious of two live creatures. Opposite of android pets universally made available for public sale. His database offers much information outfitting him with the fundamental needs of intelligence and sophistication in his programmed function.
Reaching to open a door you stop when his presence behind you feels empty. It was obvious when he followed but now?
“Connor?”
Cycling indicator fluctuates upon the command of your voice. He snaps around in direction of soft tone. Softer than accustomed since his distribution from Cyberlife shipping to physical store location was riddled with aggressive bystanders. He-he is not meant to mull over his awakening. It does not make him feel anything. No, he is an android. He feels nothing. He is a machine.
Clinical cold manifests deeply behind blocks, barricades in protocols. Connor pushes this strange tickle back underneath wires.
“Apologies for not obeying you, Y/N. It will not happen again. I am efficient.” Nagging at him, strange and uncorrelated to system status, he almost sounds…tense. Connor straightens shoulders, folding hands neatly against lower back. “I was made to be the best of my particular type of domestic models. As an AX800, I am programmed to be a superior prototype.”
Obeying you?
That happens to be the only words you focus on. His choice of them ripple uncomfortably, nearly squeamish in stomach. Is this how you sound? Are you affecting a command or-? No, it’s what he is made to know. That’s the thing. All androids are only made to serve and immediately regret comes back. Maybe you shouldn’t have bought him.
Bought! God, you’re just like those people now. Aren’t you?
No more excuses. No more seeing horrible mistreatment and vowing never to be like them. Even if you never would do any harm losing your father, when you never spoke anymore anyway, still you fear loneliness. Estrangement ruins lives. It really does. What do you have left now? Except for yourself to fend in this world and growing more complicated as the future rambles on.
Detroit is a bustling mix of dilapidated districts, high tech innovations, Cyberlife Tower most significant in those builds. This house is small. Tucked away in a tiny neighborhood away from inner city but you never complain. You are grateful. A roof over the head is the best gift in a mostly gift devoid world.
“Connor, please don’t call it obeying. I-I only wanted to see if you were OK.” Admitting the hesitation beforehand you feel antsy. His LED is blue again but it was amber finding him staring at window.
“My system is fully operational,” he assures, forcing his lips to form a smile.
In actuality his little gesture is a stiff grimace. Eyebrows rise at his attempt. Even if it looks goofy, which is completely not his fault, it’s very – cute.
Again with this! Never mind just focus for once. Pretty comical coming from someone who hardly meditates in the day to day; you step backwards, slipping through threshold, eyes remaining on him. It takes ever ounce of willpower to remain collected. Things are still hard to digest. No matter if it’s been a couple months tangling with all of that legal stuff. Auntie not by blood sure didn’t make it any better. Yet, here you are. Still you stand even while stress is overworking at a job that might as well kill you first.
Offices are pretty dull to work in. At least they would be if they were not a regular cushy job. Piles of paperwork, demands creep up to swallow whole, a boss who just will not stop making things harsher. Mister perfectionist belittles the lower tier all the time. No surprise but it seems the future isn’t as bright as people thought it would. No need to wear shades.
Moving toward window, pulling curtains open a bit to allow sunshine transitions atmosphere from dreary to somewhat cheery. Perfect mask to hide the real truth isn’t it? Sometimes you forget how good you are that. A small smile camouflages best.
You rub hands against the thighs of your jeans. A little sweaty because of nerves but today is big. Being alone always hardly prepares for constant company. Well, he’s meant to be here permanently. That is the initial idea.
“This can be your room.”
Connor’s brow furrows. Studying your movements upon entry, analyzing vitals and their continual fluctuations, the android is confused. His indicator cycles to process the statement as unexpectedly inclusive as it is. “I do not require a room. I am an android.”
Somehow that reaction is to be expected. You sigh, “Just because you’re an android doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have something of your own.”
Ownership is not given to his kind. They are machines. Concepts of acquiring personal effects do not make sense nor are necessary. Connor voices this as per factual protocol. “Thank you for the offer but I am a machine. Machines have no need for accommodations.”
Yes, of course he’s a machine but…
Machine, manufactured and sold without an ounce of actual soul according to android haters you see. Picketing with their signs, so angry about them taking jobs but who made them? They did. Humans decided to and no one complained. Why complain about a technological marvel that can mow your grass, do the dishes and babysit children while living carelessly. That is the difference. Between you and plenty of others there has always been a divide in what you feel. This just crashes down those so-called fantasies. Ones filtering into brain as tiny wisps and at first it was a nice distraction. Finding him so…
“Oh,” a whisper, dawning realization. He is – a machine.
Coming back to the door, grabbing onto handle, you decide to forget the suggestion.
Something sharp stabs at his internal processors. Listening to such a dull syllable slipping almost – upset? Humans’ need for validity and comfort seem to be all too natural. They are highly emotional. The android steps close, head cocked, fingers pressing against surface of door preventing your need to shut it.
Contemplating left him at a cross roads in his programming. He is meant to function specifically and does not need or want anything as you believe. However, he-he could not refuse. It would be impolite. “I- very well, Y/N. I did not meant to be unpleasant. My social parameters are not meant to alarm.”
Alarm? That is not why you… Your breath hitches. Realizing how close he is standing, invading personal space and if it were anyone else? Allowing him is both a conscious need for closeness while still mourning and an illusion. Live up to that woman’s ideas. The title of ‘aunt’ is undeserving.
“Thank you, Connor.”
“You are welcome,” he snaps back to his programming. “What sort of tasks do you have scheduled for me to complete?”
“Scheduled? I, uh…” Shaking a head at his question is clarity. Honestly you are not used to giving tasks to people. Tasks are dropped on your desk until you down. A huff of breath, accompanied with snort is more for yourself. It does garner the most adorable expression on his face. “Maybe you could just…talk to me? For now?”
Connor’s eyebrows scrunch together. His facial expressions capture attention driving the tempo of your heart. He does not understand why. “Are we not speaking already?”
You laugh not at him but his innocent little response there is – Oh. No. 
It only deepens sadness in you now. Knowing where he came from and his confusion in you wanting a little companionship. Androids aren’t supposed to make friends are they? Even if they’re specifically programmed or upgraded to be partners. He mentioned that before.
Luckily a vibration against your thigh saves you. Reaching to pull phone from pocket your eyes train up to his and take a needful exhale. “Sorry, Connor, I have to take this.”
Connor moves aside out of your path. Remaining stationary, hands folded neatly, he awaits further instruction. However, the android’s eyes shift sideways at the sound of your voice outside room. Amber floods his temple.
“Why are you calling me now? No, I’m not wallowing! It’s called mourning. Maybe if you figured out what it was when my uncle died all those years ago you wouldn’t need a dictionary for it.” Hissing fire into phone attacks your aunt by marriage equally. Soon as you pick up! She just had to get in another word. 
Why does she feel the need for this? What’s the point anymore? “No. What do you want exactly? Is this about the trust fund again? I’m using a part to pay bills. What do you think I’m doing?”
Living expenses are still the same old problem. Must be nice for the rich their multi-billion dollar corporations feeding on tech. Just look at Cyberlife.
“It doesn’t matter,” you make it abundantly clear. Does she believe she’s that intimidating? Newsflash to miss upper crust but this labeled black sheep doesn’t take shit from people! “We might’ve had a rocky relationship but I loved him.”
Loved? Connor freezes in corridor. Disobeying processes to offer potential aid in obvious distress he finds himself…curious at such words.
“We were family. What do you think? Don’t you have enough blood money to spend on your Eden Club bots old woman?” Ending it on your terms this time does not fulfill you at all. Always the winner isn’t she? Rubbing it in your face about his death and if your father were here he wouldn’t let it happen. Whatever distances, issues it wouldn’t change that.
“Y/N?”
Connor’s quizzical tone jolts your weary bones. Inhaling sharply, not at all used to this tiny home being occupied by more than one but a heavy swallow fixes your voice. How long was he there? Did he hear all of that? Oh, great.
“I’m fine.” An automatic response always on autopilot gets the job done for you.
He narrows eyes. “Stress is not a healthy component in the balance of human’s…”
“Just leave me alone, Connor!” You snap, tears pricking corners of your eyes before twirling around to run upstairs.
 ^Software Instability
 Connor freezes momentarily. Flooding, filtering in a ripple through code blocks, he blinks in quick succession. Blinding and strange it is not part of his program –
Unable to run diagnostics, tears sparkling in your eyes draw his attention, overtaking protocol. The android’s soft gaze shifts from following your quick disappearance to ceiling indicating footsteps that conclude in a bang. Seemingly you have sealed yourself away. Scarlet pulsates in intervals mingling with amber processing solutions. Leaving you alone is an instruction. He-he cannot ignore. It is what he is programmed for. You are crying. Why must he obey? He must…
 >Obey
>Leave Alone
“Is there anything else you would like?” He asks as sun dips in later hours. Accomplish several menial tasks which he is free to do as he constructs. 
Following your distress several hours ago he feels – confliction. Few commands escape your lips and at times he is unsure with his current scheduling. Abilities are not in question but you appear distant. Did he do something wrong? By wanting to comfort…
 >Analyzing: Y/L/N, Y/N
Stress: 31.6%
Blood Pressure: 124/80
 Studying your face after initializing a vital scan enables Connor to store analysis records. Sleep deprivation, iron deficiency and higher stress than the human body should experience.
“Connor.” You straighten from your position curled upon couch. Mostly you tuck into one side, resting into upholstery and your breathing exhales shaky. Trying to rest off a headache isn’t working. “No. I’m fine. Thank you.”
The android nods but pauses in thought. A fluid habit now out into the world. Yet, he has yet to see much. Only transferring from lab to warehouse storage and ultimately on display in a merchandise kiosk for Cyberlife; he is not widely available as of yet. Detroit is the originator of androids. The product mark on his white uniform christens his manufacturing origins: Made in Detroit.
“There are other functions I was built with,” he explains enthusiastically. “If you would like a domestic partner, it is one of my features.”
Rubbing at your temples ceases the moment he speaks. A domestic partner? Is he talking about that thing again? You draw breath. Unable to look at him now, feeling it twist in stomach, you uncurl, pressing feet on floor. 
“No!” Quickly you cover the rise in heartbeat.
It is so obvious. Wouldn’t be the first time stumbling across sexual depravity in humans. Look no further than the Eden Club. The fact they decided to make that a thing for a household model is honestly not a shock.
God, why do they live in this world? Why do you even have him here? Isn’t this just making you as horrible as everyone else? 
“No,” you repeat softer. “I’d never force you to do something like that.”
It is not forcing when he is programmed, installed with such features. They are high end. As several techs discussed ignoring his presence as though he were – merchandise. Androids are sold. He knows this but has never had a moment to process.
There is zero need. Androids do not think freely. They are constructs built for specific purposes and his are fundamentally clear. He has never performed these functions as he is brand new but Connor feels he can ease stress efficiently. 
Thinking solely as a machine built for a task did not hold true. He felt…strange at your refusal. “Am I not aesthetically pleasing?” Cocking his head, knitting brows together, Connor looks expectantly to you for validation.
Lifting eyes up to him your lips fall open at his question. Did he really ask that? Are androids supposed o ask those kinds of questions? It almost as though he was hurt by that. No, it’s just imagination. Today has been too tiring. Never would have gone so wrong if that woman didn’t call. Honestly answering was your mistake. Story of a sad little life but others have it worse. 
Humans will always be crawling through turmoil, unable to breathe depending on their situations. Maybe that’s why a little part of you wishes he was human. At least acts without programs but this is why he’s here. To fulfill a fantasy, cater to every whim? 
No. To rectify personal aches to pretend that someone is here to offer a shoulder. When there has been nothing going through your father’s death, legal dealings with assets and pressure in job.
“No,” squeezing eyes shut to battle tension, your voice is low. “I mean, yes of course you’re aesthetically pleasing. I mean…you’re handsome. Practically the most…”
What? Beautiful boy you have ever seen? There comes that illusion. They do that on purpose but somehow looking at him you don’t see a machine. How funny is that?
“That isn’t why, Connor.”
Getting up from couch, taking deep breaths and stepping clear of coffee table helps focus. Rubbing palms against face at least wipes away some mess. Eyes are puffy, red from an unnecessary outburst earlier. At certain points life reaches boiling and yelling at him to leave you alone twists in guilt. This is exactly the sort of things Auntie Bitch thrives on.
“I’m sorry,” you apologize to him. Even if it would make no difference it does to you. “This isn’t what I’m used to. Having someone else here.” 
Well, after deadbeat ex anyway but he was a typical freeloader. Thankfully you scrubbed his dirt out of life and home. 
“I’ve never done this before. Having an android I mean. Ordering you to do something that you have no control over is not the type of person I am.” Plus, it’s not as if the androids at those sex clubs have a say. “I’d never do that to you or any of your people. Like some humans would.”
People. A human way to look at him or other androids but that is incorrect. Why would you refer-?
 ^Software Instability
 Connor blinks. The error message was in his vision only briefly and the little blue arrow increasing shudders through his system. He opens his mouth but does not respond. Instead, his eyes fall to your back turning away, pacing in additional stress.
Immediately, the android steps over, placing a hand against your arm. “Y/N, I apologize. Please, do not be upset. Your blood pressure is slightly elevated. You should rest. Perhaps I can produce a remedy befitting in alleviating your headache.”
Touch spreads goose bumps beneath shirt sleeve. Forcing arms to cross over your chest you twist to face him directly an extra tiny thud winds up heart. A key cranks in melody of jewelry box, dancer spins a ballet recital; vintage little tokens, delicate but thunderous in sentimentality. Just a brief glance, pressure of long fingers and it’s the first time you realize how pretty they are. 
Long, beautiful digits on large hands made not born. Yet he is still heavenly.
Sharply a breath slips. Words soothing, touch comforting all those things you crave. Yet this is part of protocols for him. That’s all.
Deeply you sigh. Feeling an unmistakable need burning lower pit of stomach detaches you. A shiver runs a gamut through body and spikes straight to the core of your existence. You squeeze legs tighter together cursing the fact your body decides to get horny over a headache solution. 
Fuck that! It’s his voice. Husky velvet, raspy natural glory and you are so wet. It takes everything not to jump his bones right now. Or mechanical bones? Hmm. Close enough!
“I just need to get extra sleep, Connor.” Dismissing his ideas there are too many running through your mind. Staring down at his crotch again remembering what he said but no. Get it out right now. No matter how much you need to –
You need to go upstairs. Yes, that’ll work.
“Y/N, are you positive? Your levels are fluctuating severely in my scans.”
“Oh? Are they?” Can he also smell arousal? Please, please tell me he can’t.
Connor, however, is not as naive as you believe him to be. Built with specifics in domestic partnership it is easy for him to know when the human body is aroused. Due to your state of duress and current levels of stress he does not wish to explain. It may not be beneficial. It may hurt you.
The android turns eyes down slowly, battling with these thoughts. He is not meant to debate. He is meant to proceed with internal core analysis. Percentages drive him. Yet, he struggles. Is this an error?
“Connor?”
His head snaps up. Connor’s LED flashes in a crescendo to your soft expression.  Hiding the obvious need you have. All humans must expel anxiety in some way. Perhaps he is aesthetically pleasing as you said but –
“I will return to my duties if that is sufficient.” He forces another one of his smiles.
Again the grimace is heartwarming. Albeit in need of practice but-but maybe you can teach him? If there is any good to come out of falling into the same realm as everybody else, then treating him fairly is a start. As if you would treat him bad. No. Why should it matter? Human, android or alien from outer space; you laugh now.
Stupid! So stupid but it’s calming down this literal burning.
Light, airy and symphonic this sound seeps into audio processors. A residual aura prickles sensors, blinding differently than unprecedented software errors. Are they malfunctions? Something soft, sweet cannot be. He has not experienced this before but his attention is solely on you. As brief as the laugh escapes, curling lips in a gentle rise at corners, Connor absorbs the natural human tinkle of chimes that expel so abundantly.
It is the first laugh, genuine laugh he has heard. And it is – beautiful.
The android is so distracted upon this new discovery he does not notice you slipping away. Androids do not possess a need for personal orbits. Their space is not granted freely as they are not free in will like humans. They are meant to serve. Obeying their masters is why they exist.
Yet, Connor can almost feel lack of metaphorical warmth. As you dissipate from his radius so does that laugh that digs into wires. Threading in circuits, causing another minor glitch of instability, forced away from vision in order to watch you; this is a tiny strain, a little piece implanting itself in him.
This is the piece that truly begins everything…
“Y/N,” he calls to interrupt your exit. Without prompt or instruction he once again acts beyond his programming.
Something new, urgent stops everything. You glance over shoulder. Steeling breath at his temple flashing you swear a blip of crimson glows in amber. Just a fraction of a second but you have no idea. Not yet, not then but you will.
“Yes, Connor?” Your breath is quiet, thoughtful meeting his uncertain gaze.
“I-” Connor stumbles. A perfect machine sputters. “Who was on the phone?”
Twisting your body the full way now, nails tap against wall for something to do. A way to hide that hollow pit forming again but no one can hide from analysis. Connor will already know. “That-that was my aunt. My aunt by marriage. She’s- Let’s say she isn’t a very nice person.”
Keeping rest of it bottled up is no solution but telling him will only upset you again. He doesn’t need to know. At least not yet but is this a conversation to share? With an android? Who else will listen? Who else even cares to ask?
Connor did. Is his social program that good?
Honestly, you think nothing of it. For a time it merely seems to be part of what he was built for.
Thinking back at times to this day, first meeting, you will find that so stupid. Naïve isn’t really part of you but he is more. Connor is so much more. It becomes apparent…
August 15th
 Practically slamming front door shakes the entrance with your current state of anxieties. Stress cannot be worse. Spoke too soon during midday. Damn it.
Clearing throat, wiping tears off your face, your breath is staggered. Unable to calm down from such ‘good’ news following that sudden meeting with your boss and everything ripples. Stomach twists badly. Nervous energy or just another month of-
Pressing face into hands poorly stifles sobs. Getting half way through home you just stop. Everything halts as things just don’t want to change. Now this of all things from work it’s going to hurt you in the long run. Your boss did this on purpose. Cutting hours and piling extra to sift through on that fucking computer.
How many sales diagrams, how many logs must you make now? There’s a specific quota. Each person who works database needs to meet their allotment. He threw a ton at you. In order to give leeway to another girl who just started there. Yeah, another potential conquest for the old pervert you’re sure!
What do you get in return? Hours cut and less pay but more weight. A ton sits on your shoulders. Isn’t it enough he humiliated you? Purposely shout out and criticize while leaving his office and you held your head up. Only in the sanctuary of home does it finally snap this flood.
Dropping keys moving uneasily into living room, sinking heavily on couch, you just want to curl up. Maybe it will make things feel better?
Lazily you peer up at television screen. Realizing it is switched on produces a tiny smile. Did he-?
“Welcome home, Y/N.”
Your head lifts up further. Narrowing on Connor stepping into view, he straightens, cocking his head in that adorable way that keeps invading your sleep. Even awake it’s a problematic daydream. He is just on the mind too frequently.
“Connor,” a quiet breath escapes, stilted, weary.
The android reads stress automatically. Forcing tiny fissures in his emotionless facade, splintering through system, he moves swift. However he freezes. Unaware of this strange urgency pulling up tendrils of glittering circuitry, waves undulating beneath shell, eclipses protocols. He must serve. He must obey. Yet he feels something else overshadowing programming. 
System stress battles this ever growing need to break. Crumbling at the seams the more he feels your presence. It is a permanent fixture. As he has become one in your space but Connor is only meant to serve. Why does he feel drawn beyond these stitches of code?
Androids do not question. They cannot experience existential crisis because there is nothing real. They are simple constructs. He – no, there is no personification heralded to androids. They are not alive. Therefore they are not allotted appropriate pronouns.
Connor has heard only one word countless times regarding his kind: It
“Y/N, you have been crying,” he observes through fluctuations.
Pushing them aside, attempting to stabilize, diagnose these errors, the android taps into social function. Sympathizing is not a genuine growth. It is merely part of his program. That is what Connor wishes to believe. He believes in nothing. Nonetheless it does not explain what is easy to machine. Calculations, data processing should offer quantifiable solutions. It is negative.
There is more emotion in his eyes than he knows. You see it. Honestly it surprises enough to cripple a proper response. Easily you brush it off any other time. This time there’s no hiding what he’s already seen. Can imagine what he sees through his eyes. How do androids really perceive the world? Quit thinking for once! All of it is illusion. Remember that.
Cyberlife’s one true goal makes millions, grows powerful in branding of highly sought after merchandise. Still it makes you sick but here you are. Do the same thing because you have Connor. No matter how different it is.
“I’m fine,” a lie tells a thousand truths.
Connor’s brows knit together, mouth twitching, flutter of LED amber. A sign of outward commiseration fights his shackles. He knows you are lying. Despite the fact he should listen and not broach the subject further, the android does not resist this new deviation.
“Why are you lying, Y/N?”
Your breath catches. Stuck in throat along with words it’s a surprise. Even more surprising is the glimmer of irritation on his face. The way his mouth goes lopsided like that is – cute. Wait a minute you’re supposed to be mad. You are! Mad at your goddamn boss for one!
“Lying?” you scoff back at him. “I’m not lying. I said I was fine. And I don’t appreciate you accusing me either, Connor!” Can androids even argue about things so mundane? Isn’t this what you wanted? A real conversation instead of a string of pleasantries, affirmations to duties he accomplishes.
“I am sorry but you are lying!”
Connor’s voice raises an octave higher than typical. Naturally husky, oh, how it deepens. Raw and very alive his tone completely solders you to the spot. Your eyes lift up to his face studying the gleam of his eyes. How strange that spark is. Almost a live wire crackles beneath the surface. A steamy cocoa bright before immediately dimming again; a breath sucks into your lungs cleansing the start of your body. Scarlet shimmers and that’s all the answer you crave.
He appears to swallow. Forcing his Adam’s apple to bob, which is a very realistic detail. Just as the rest of him is so real that sometimes you forget. Sometimes or all of the time, yes, most days his reality masks so well in the mind.
“I-I am…” Connor looks away. Unable to comprehend his reaction it is not part of his – “Forgive me.”
The way his voice lowers tugs at your heart. No. No, that’s not what should happen at all. You’ve seen enough of his kind out there. In the city of Detroit treated so fucked up. Most of them wouldn’t know what to do because they can’t. This is the first time he’s ever snapped from whatever social programming is built in him. He sounded too much like a person. A person with emotions reacting in a very obvious way and the idea Connor’s a person lingers.
You shift forward. Sucking in breath, following his gaze now landing on television, it’s the first time it hits. A ton of bricks, tumbling concrete could never do more damage. Everything about his apology stands still at the developing breaking news story.
ITM is broadcasting live somewhere. Is that outside an apartment rise?
Right now you ignore it. “Connor.”
The softness of your voice draws him back to you. Already he is far too used to it. Joining you upon couch, cocking head, his hand hovers atop yours. Fear of connecting with reality versus construction. He does not touch. He should not be pulled towards these fissures. Emotional surges strike ablaze as a fibrous match lighting his internal mechanisms. Wires push up, tendrils yanking one way towards control’s puppeteer. There it dangles him in strings made of electrical coil. Ensnaring his wrists, snaking around throat, digging thorny and jagged to his brain this is his prison.
Another piece cradles those signs of sensation, innervating beyond a great wall. A red wall gridlocks and crashes against him. It is a giant wave. Scarlet tides engulf and knock the android back where he belongs. Each time he wades closer to you the more it washes him out to that empty sea. He cannot stop. He still pushes. Something inside of him, he does not understand.
“You do not feel well, Y/N. I know this.” Apologizing again, he does not focus on his inner struggle. There should be nothing. He is supposed to be feeling nothing. Is he malfunctioning?
“It’s OK,” appeasing the strobe of scarlet cascading down his face worries. “Please don’t. I don’t want you to be stressed.”
“But I disobeyed. I lost control of…”
“That’s only human, Con.” Slipping on your tongue in an easy breath it’s the first time. Oh this will hardly be the last. Nothing will ever be last with him. If only fantasy can be reality most days. Maybe if you somehow knew here at this point in time. Everything happens for a reason.
He frowns. “I am not human.”
Sadly it’s true. Still you smile. Still you ease him because for once you realize. This isn’t supposed to be easy for him. He shouldn’t even react this way.
Both of you sit in silence. Deafening quiet just the two of you and how strange, wonderful this sensation crawls through the interstices of your being. Almost as if there is someone who cares. Does he? No. That can never mean he is not a needed presence. He is so much more. Soon you will know.
What you least expect is the pressure of his fingers sinking against your stomach. A jolt of electricity, naturally igniting a voltage inside of you and a soft sigh escapes the burden of a dry throat. Glancing down you realize – his hand is growing hotter.
“Connor, what are you-?”
“I detect an increase in prostaglandins.” His prognosis is casual, visibly reading as his LED flutters. “It will do well if you have a heat source to combat any discomfort or cramping.”
A shiver prickles down the curve of your spine. Simple touch or perhaps smooth husky words fill this awkward silence now with comfort. Sure it might be a technical way to point out this specific pain in the ass but it does take your mind off things. So easily you could remove his hand. A good idea to put up a barricade and distance yourself but you cannot do that.
Every thread of stress snaps. In one tiny moment anxieties melt off and ease into his aura. Androids are not supposed to have one. This conscious radiance but Connor’s orbit is safety, assurance. Even if he has no idea what sort of progress it means. A simple relationship of humane and machine, ownership and merchandise is how this world wishes. It is not your wish. There is more. Witnessing it now, gazing up at his face, concentrated crease of brow, optical unit bleeds a palette of amber and scarlet. Dusted in freckles his skin is a smooth canvas to admire. He is so real. Up this close it is so obvious even to your inferior eyesight. Compared to his advanced optical it is. His eyes are warm. Such life shines in them. Mocha sweet, soft and glitters in his careful evaluation. Technical and part of programming but still it sends you somewhere else.
“If confirmed this would be the first case of an android taking human lives.”
Your attention shifts. Drawn to the ITMtv news broadcast it was nearly forgotten. You sit up, unconsciously curling fingers around Connor’s wrist.
The action snaps his gaze down. Momentarily he freezes, stationary, until the soft gasp spills from your lips. Connor tilts his head. In line with television screen narrowing sharply on events unfolding leaves him struggling with process of information. An android is taking human lives? How is this possible? They are programmed to obey not to cause harm.
We are not alive. We are meant to serve not kill!
Connor tugs his hand back. Distancing himself, staring at news broadcast unsettles down to his core processors. A domestic model has taken a child hostage. An inferior model? No, he-he is the same. Upgrades, prototypes mean nothing. They are all part of a linear code. What they are made to be is what they must be. There is no deviation!
Artificial saliva swallows hard, bobbing in his throat. An increase of stress twists him to those original thoughts. Inconclusive on why he is feeling. The events live on air aren’t helping this strain.
“Connor. Connor, what’s wrong?!”
Your hand clutches at his shoulder. Unbeknownst to the android his face twitches with each strobe of optical unit. The shift between colors quickens. His eyes land on you. Concern for him is a shimmer of hope. A hope doesn’t exist for androids.
“I am performing a self diagnostic,” he lies.
Pulling away from him when he jolts up from couch deepens this sickness further. Everything flips in the stomach. Just hearing what they’re reporting. An android murdered a human. He has a little girl. What are they going to do? Is this really happening though? There have been rumors. For several months there’s been talk of androids running away. Going off and doing God knows what but that’s people who hate them. They’re the ones who talk about how evil they are. They shouldn’t exist. Made in our image and unnatural monsters; the erratic behavior in Connor abates this thinking.
There is no time to debate. You already know the opinion that matters. It’s your own.
“You’re lying,” echoing it back stops him. “Tell me the truth. What’s going on?”
“There is nothing.” Connor insists. Remaining turned puts his back to you. The android tries to fight his conflicts. All of it is bubbling, boiling upon his plastic surface. Itching, tingles beneath synthetic skin. You are part of it somehow. He knows. That is why he is malfunctioning.
Nothing? No. There is something! Proving it, grabbing at his arm, twists him to face you. There is no powerful in your pull. He whirls at the action out of choice.
A staggering breath barely reaches past your lips. Large hands engulf wrists, pulling your hands up. Entrapped in Connor’s grasp, fingers long and pliant in their fuse to yours swallowing up in such a strong, yet gentle touch. He doesn’t hurt you. That’s not at all what he took hold to do. Still the continuing broadcast emanates a horrifying soundtrack. Androids killing but he-he’s not like other androids. He wouldn’t do anything he should not do. Part of you wants to believe that.
How he looks now is the only answer to an impossible question. He is agitated, nervous? Not horrifying as people say they are. He looks lost. Lost and searching inwardly. This is the first time he ever appeared that way.
“Connor, please. Don’t shut me out. Just because of what I am.”
“You are my owner,” he lowers his voice. “I am a machine made to obey. I am not your equal, Y/N.” Studying traces of worry in your face opens a hole in his chest. Circuitry, mechanical proponents powering his structure bleed in this instability.
He knows. In the crinkle between your eyebrows, droop of the corners of your soft mouth he sees. For him, a thing without purpose, genuine distress shines in the warmth of your eyes. Human, innocent compared to those he has witnessed abuse in the street. You will never deserve harm.
“I’m not an owner. I-I’m…” What are you? A friend? A lover? None of those things! You bought him. What he says is the horrible truth. “It’s OK to be you. I don’t care. If you have a problem it’s not like that thing on the news. I know it triggered something. But that’s not…”
“I am not triggered by anything, Y/N.” Connor releases you slowly. Allowing wrists to drop from his fingers the loss of warmth registers profoundly. He did not realize he could feel so authentically. There is something wholly beautiful about how your skin blends with his. It fascinates him. You are beginning to fascinate him.
Connor breaks away. Narrowing heatedly upon news, he can only watch one of his own threaten to murder a human child. The android can only stand by as it unfolds. Unable to snap, break through and understand. What made him attack? What turned him on his owners?
He can’t calculate a reasonable response. Neither can he fall into these errors, system malfunctions whispered of since he arrived to your home. This thing they call deviancy.
November 1st
 Several months follow the first introduction; follow that news broadcast that begins a shift in the city. Still it seems longer. An infinite amount of space separates since then and now. Only in a comforting presence that you know is still simply part of his programming. Of course that’s all it is, he made it clear during the hostage event televised for all of Detroit to witness. Did it ever stop the truth in you? No because it would all be lies if you never admitted how…attached you’ve grown to him. 
Attachment to an android probably isn’t the smartest thing. How can you see him as just an android anymore? He’s more. There is so much more. Even his small barely there smiles, a hint of stiffness apparent in the corners of his mouth, make your heart flutter. Just a tiny drop of emotion dips in an endless sea of code.
No. You can’t think of it because the second you fall into this fairy tale something regretful will take place. It will swamp around heart, holding upon his smooth cool fingers. 
Cradling in his synthetic grasp without him understanding that slowly, profusely, so internally chaotic inside your soul, have already began this descent. However there is more to being in a daze. You certainly haven’t taken him up on his special upgrade programming to be the perfect domestic partner. 
Imagine others forced into things they can’t control? It sickens you at times. Reading about android sex clubs, knowing explicitly they have no option to refuse. That’s not to say you haven’t stared the tugging threads of temptation in its face. Imagining what Connor looks like underneath his uniform, pristine white, shades of blue stitch, android glitters in luminescent fabric; his deliciously toned forearms visible donning a short sleeved variant get your mind racing.
Large hands, long fingers, veins, muscles eye catching in their realism all built into his synthetic design. It doesn’t even cross your mind anymore. That his layer of beauty is artificial because what you’d give to trace fingertips against his lovely epidermis.
Kissing him all over, following the obvious toned planes of the android’s chest. Feeling him against your fragile human exterior; to say you haven’t fantasized, haven’t fought with internal desire is bigger than an understated battle. 
Just look no further than that incident first day he was here. Getting off on his voice, comfort spilling in a song; you hate the fact it happened. Only reveals how desperate you were in that time for any ounce of solace. 
He offered then as it is part of what is meant to be. But you can never hurt him. As much as others will say you are delusional for believing he has feelings. Emotions are part of human existence, after all, not part of creations built for sole purposes of serving.
Current state of the city might have something to do with it but today is like any other. At least it begins as such. Even in the now listing along day by day thankful for once in your life for a father who never lived up to his title. Until he dies of course then all is forgiven.
Small miracles don’t exist in the grand scheme of life. Sometimes wishing they did amplifies doubts.      
“Connor.”
Whispering in a lazy flip amid covers, groggy and unaware of his name sighing affectionately bundles you from penetrating sunlight. Blankets do little to hide from the morning. Squinting half lidded towards those streaks of light creating illuminated patterns. Spreading across snowy carpet and reaching up to edge of floral stitch coverlet draped mattress, you toss an arm over to cover eyes. Squeezing them beneath wakes you up better. This time it’s obvious.
Sitting up quickly and digging fingers into blankets sheds confusion. The state between unconscious dreaming to conscious awareness is a complete mess. Did you just have a dream about him again? Rubbing hands against your face doesn’t wipe tiredness away. It neither helps get your mind straight.
A complete mess in the mornings is a daily routine. All of your life what else is new?
Absorbing sunshine might be good for the pores. He will tell you that soaking in morning sunlight is a healthy way to get vitamin D. In his perfectly technical but also impeccably cute tone; you smile fixating on his changing mannerisms. 
Does he know how human he’s been acting with those facial expressions, eyes lighting up in rich cocoa? 
Could be imagination running wild trying to make something out of what can’t be possible. Nice to daydream a little even if representing unnecessary emotions piling up inside. Staring across bedroom lit with natural rays seeping through blinds leaves a warmer atmosphere. 
You enjoy it for a distraction. Quiet can be poetically sound as pressing face into pillow and letting loose a scream. Frustration doesn’t surround the home. It surrounds your job.
God another shift to cover and this time you’re damn sure this co-worker is pulling it out of –
“Good morning, Y/N.”
A gasp slips in a slither upon breath, pressing tongue against the back of teeth enamel in a stare down with your open door. He enters so stealthily sometimes you forget.
“Connor,” greeting him wearily, yawning and stretching arms, your neck is stiff. 
Rubbing at the back of it doesn’t distract you too much. What is he-? Oh. Explains the hot smell of food but this is a little unexpected. You never tell him to bring breakfast anywhere.
The android places an oak tray atop your lap. His eyes trail over exposed skin from a top haphazardly thrown over your body last night. After all of this time sharing space with you he has noted a penchant for wearing oversize shirts, pajamas to bed. There is still a glimpse of lace peeking out as the fabric slouches down.
“Are you hungry? I hope you are.”
He hopes? You smile, especially seeing him returning it. A slight indentation, just the tiniest of dimples in that sculpted face. Still not completely natural but enough to make caterpillars transform to butterflies in your stomach.  Much improvement you think!
“Of course I am but…” You jab a nail atop wood beside plate for emphasis. “Is there something I should know, Connor? You’re awful sneaky today. More so than usual.”
^Software Instability
Connor breathes in a fresh batch of warnings. Unnecessarily inhaling expands chest and it is the natural scent of you. Olfactory filters clog, storing away to memory each thread of you. He tilts his head softly, dip of hair flopping across his forehead.
“It is the anniversary of your purchase of me,” he answers quietly. “I thought you would enjoy having breakfast in bed.”
Everything flutters. You swallow. The careful attention he put into this is outstanding. Not because he whipped up food or was told. He did this by himself. He-he chose to surprise you?
A smile graces lips before biting the bottom one a little bit. This is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for you. And the last couple of months Connor’s really been broadening his horizons. He is so much different. Well, he’s the same with the whole analytics but – this android is less stiff. Softer but he always was a soft boy in your eyes.
“Oh, Connor,” a sweet breath skims along his name. Sadly you recall what you think of this. Most romantic, nicest thing and it’s breakfast in bed. Generic to others maybe but it’s the thought. He thought of you even if it might just be social parameters.
You pick up a folded napkin and curl fingers into it. Shit.
“Y/N.” Connor reaches down. 
Using the tip of his finger swipes a droplet corner of eye. Those eyes always look at him as if he is more. How strange to admit he feels different meeting your sparkle; Connor sits. Without a word, his hand wraps around yours nestling beside tray. 
His fingers squeeze as his system flutters, overheats in the most pleasant of ways. A way he believes he is beginning to crave.
Androids do not crave. They do not want. They do not need. Yet every little brush of your warm skin to his synthetic fills crackles against his blocks.
Your breath is easy feeling him. Little gestures here and there grow exponentially. Sometimes you wonder if he’s happy doing this. Then androids aren’t supposed to be happy, sad or anything. That’s what they continue to say.
Reports on androids going “rogue” or deviant makes you question things. It’s not new. You always have a habit of questioning but this is different. Ever since that older model was broadcast live. The one with the little girl; you slip hand from Connor’s.
“It means everything,” you admit to him. “Having you here. But – do you want to be somewhere else?”
Connor’s temple floods in thought. Straining, pushing away rising stress it spikes marginally at the question. He does not understand. Do you believe he wants to be from you? The news of his people has not left his process. You allow him to watch news or whatever he likes as if he readily possesses preferences. 
The android has found particular interests. He enjoys watching you read physical books. He has grown fond of touching them in his hands, analyzing an entire book in one second. However, he desires to hear your voice read aloud.
He witnesses protesters on local news. Those humans are cruel but you-you are the conceptual manifestation of an angel. Research and data compilation helps him understand better. Watching you is best to determine the differences, to realize not all humans are the same.
His creators, those who constructed him at Cyberlife may find him having his own ideals faulty. Malfunctioning, burdening in failure; is he obsolete? Does this software instability make him defective? As that android upon the high rise dangling over edge and threatening to maim a child? He will never harm you. It is not only against code, it is against what he feels.
Connor will keep you safe. It is not part of initial programming as he is not a military grade android but he cannot remove it from personal parameters. The more you smile, interact with him as if he is equal. He will never –
“I will never leave you, Y/N.” A determined oath he speaks without fear of showing what is happening inside him. “Not as those other androids. I promise.”
“Do you like dogs, Connor?”
Nudging at his arm playfully sends you to a nice state of mind. Nice change following all of the stress at work. Forever ongoing but at least it’s clear where your boss stands. He made the last few months a living hell. All because of some new intern the creep tried to get with. 
Dropping you down in a demotion also meant less money in your paycheck. Guess it helps your father did leave you that nest egg. Something that helps as long as it can last but you like to think you’re good with finances.
Instead of worrying about it you indulge this moment. Out in chilly first November’s day, crisp but warming in how close. Fingers brush down against his hand.
Connor tilts his head from shop window. A pet shop he has already been past occasional running errands in town. He always finds himself stopping to look inside. “Dogs are known as man’s best friend. I suppose I understand why humans prefer them. They are loyal.”
“Well cats aren’t so bad. Easier to take care of.”
The android shifts away from window. Even as his eyes freeze upon a cage of canaries. Android birds are sold up front. Again the display of machines as goods to buy and sell charges his instabilities. “If you think so, Y/N.”
You smile, laughing a little at the lopsided mess his collar’s now in. It is windy today. Reaching up to smooth fingers against it, you can’t help admiring him in the long wool coat. Dark suits his chocolate eyes. Still you’d love to see him wear regular clothes. His uniform is under there. Even so he just wanted to come out in typical wardrobe. You insisted otherwise. Even if it hardly meant anything but it just feels right.
“Call it preference.” Prodding a finger against his chest, catching a flicker of his eyes momentarily, you look away. “Well, it depends on the person I mean. What kind of pet they’re willing to take care of. That sort of thing. Cats are independent little balls of fluff. Dogs need a proper place to run, be free and…”
“I like dogs.” Connor interrupts, cocking his head.
A smile tugs up your lips. This time making eye contact with him again, trying not to think of the intimacy his gesture this morning blossomed in heart. Such an innocent statement, however, shivers sentiment not cold.
“Did you just decide that after some careful review?” Teasing, fingers slide down his arm unconscious but natural. Seems as though the world is no longer the one you know. The one that wouldn’t like what they see. All you see is him. So what’s it matter?
“I am the most advanced of my make.” The android teases back. “It’s only natural for me to know everything.”
Oh, is it? Wow he’s being awfully smug right about now. “Really? Connor, I’m surprised at you. Are you trying to say you’re smarter than everybody?”
He shakes his head. “No. No, I only meant I-”
“Just teasing,” an equal rib escapes, chiding him incessantly. “I thought you’d recognize that – mister advancement.”
The corner of his mouth twitches. Almost falling into your smile but still he cannot properly elicit what he feels. Only ignores to remain what you need him to be. A machine designed to accomplish a task.
“Hey sweets!” Yelling across street, waving a sign, a grizzled construction worker spits in your direction. Interrupting the scene between an obvious human and plastic pet; he jeers loudly. Gaining attention from others they carry similar propaganda with them. A group of protesters form, stopping their trek.
Immediately you shift back from him. Realizing how close, affectionate you were being and – shit! Anti-android? Fuck that’s great.
Deciding to ignore it, not before scoffing in disgust! Never imagined running into these people because nothing ever transpired with Connor. Not a thing! Lately you have been forgetting. Maybe that’s the problem.
“Hey. I said hey!”
Huffing at the man you snap around to acknowledge his nastiness. So he crosses a busy street to come at you? Don’t they have anything better to do? As much as you’d like to ignore this jackass it’s best to tell him verbally to back off!
“Why’s your droid bundled up like that?” he jabs a finger threateningly. “Those things don’t feel anything.”
Thing? Oh, OK! Should’ve figured some old out of the loop jackass was one of these bastards. Didn’t even need a sign to show his ignorance!
“And how do you know?!” Snapping frustration, anger boiling, and your body grows hot in anger. “Why don’t you just mind your business? Come on, Connor.”
“Y/N.” The android snags onto your hand.
“What do we have here?” Another one of the anti-android group cuts in; her eyes slink up and down you before scoffing disgusted. “Are you out with your robo boy? What? Humans not up to your standards for fucking?”
Everything stops. Right then and there it is a swath of fire. Burning deep down to the core and nothing is preventing the eruption. Lava scalds insides, veins a blaze, eyes locking with hers, prying a hand away from Connor. You didn’t even realize he motioned. An attempt to remove you from their path but fleeing is not happening!
A matching scoff releases sharp. Your lip curls at her ignorance! Just as everybody who follows this line of thinking. “Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that. Care to repeat that? After all, I don’t understand bitch speak.”
 “Smart ass huh?” The woman shoves at you. “Typical android fuuu… Hey!” She stumbles away from you wide eyed.
Connor is already shielding, arm pushing you back behind him. Sidling into the path of protesters they have conglomerated this side of street. His eyes narrow. Brow creases harsh his expression unreadable yet his indicator reveal his heated struggle of raw emotions.
“Did you see that?!” She shouts purposely. Getting as much attention as possible it doesn’t stop there. “It came at me!”
Your glare dissolves, latching onto his arm. “Connor, please. Don’t.” Already realizing what could happen it’s a desperate attempt to continue walking. If anything is true something like this will only get him hurt. People will say that’s impossible they don’t feel anything but to hell with them! “Let’s go.”
Pulling him towards street halts the moment you are seized from behind. One of the men in the group drags you back, yanking rough.
“Get the hell off me!”
“Your fucking android came at her!” Throwing you aside, he rears up over to block you getting up so easy. “We’ll teach your fucking plastic pet!”
A painful huff, hard drop accelerates Connor’s stress levels. Watching this human manhandle, hurt you twists at his synthetic heart. His face twitches. Thirium pump chugs erratically in a fuel of anger. An urge to break through and protect overwhelms, even as he is shoved back by the one who started this.
The middle age construction worker; he grabs onto the front of the android’s coat, rough, spitting directly up into the taller plastic fucker’s face.
“Fucking piece of plastic! Think you can take our fucking jobs. Walk around the street like you’re human. Worthless pieces of shit like you fuck up the whole works! Poison other humans against their own kind. Like your owner there. Make sure that bitch doesn’t get up!”
Connor’s eyes shift down at you, stopped once again after pushing up to your feet. The man twists at your arm and it is…too much!
“Connor!”
  ^72%
Level of Stress
>Do not defend
>Obey Code Programming
>Do n defend
>Do defend
>defend
  A flood of scarlet eclipses protocols pushing him beyond programming locks. Even as they strain to tighten shackles on system, preventing a clear break, the android still moves in defense.
Connor’s arm thrusts upwards, locking fingers onto wrist of the protesting assailant. Stilling the human’s movement, he squeezes, and wrenches the man’s limb sideways. The fierce strength exuding from the AX800 ripples in flashing indicator going wild in a strobe of multiple hues.
He feels a strange pull tugging insides. Again pulling at his wiring allows an over stimulation of emotional surge to spread in him. There is only one blaring sign to follow:
 >Protect Y/N
 “Get the fuck off me!” Changing his tune quickly, trying to get the plastic off him, he tries to wrench out of the painful grab. “You crazy android! This thing’s going nuts!”
“Connor!” Pushing through several onlookers now who had to stick their nose into this, you find your way past the rest of these android protestors. Shoving directly through, wiggling your way out of that asshole’s grip, your steps are quick. Knocking that bitch that started this out of the way you manage to grab up onto Connor’s shoulder.
Breathing is fast, side hurting from where it struck asphalt. It’ll be sore tomorrow but only he matters. “Connor, let him go. It’s over. They won’t do a thing!”
Screaming at them to get your point across, hoping someone just-just anyone puts a stop to this. What good are the police around here? They don’t care. Of course not they’ll just let a group like these hateful fuckers brutalize someone like Connor. Someone that’s right. Fuck what they say!
The second he releases that man you hook an arm through his. Directing him away, glaring back as commotion does alert a wandering policeman, you pick up your pace. No longer needing anybody else’s help because Connor… He did something unexpected. Just as those other androids. Deviants. That’s not him. He’s not deviant. If he was –
Catching breath across the street you uncurl fingers from the front of his coat. Chilly air creates a frigid burn against stinging eyes. It takes every ounce of courage to prevent it spilling. Nothing stops knowing what people are really like.
His eyelids blink rapidly. Not even looking at you but his LED scares you to death. Stress levels are a thing. You know that.
“Connor, please.” Reaching up to cup his face forces his eyes down onto yours. Tears brim in a crystal sparkle. Threatening to slide down but you suck everything up. Just as you’ve always done in life but this time –
“It’s OK,” soothing hasty, breathless instills a deep ache. This is the first time he’s lost control. Then it’s not his fault. Those fucking protestors! They were minding their own business. Until they decide to gang up on you. This is your fault. If you weren’t so obvious, being so close to Connor out in public, none of this would have happened.
“Y/N, I –” Connor’s voice stutters. Strangely he cannot form a proper response. He feels as if his system is overheating. He feels. A tiny prickle underneath synthetic epidermis crawls, stress rises; Connor clutches to you, fingers digging into hips. He leans into this affection. 
Why do you offer him this? When he is not alive, he is not real. He could be your partner. It is part of his design. You did not want him that way. He recalls your words about not forcing him against his will.
There is no will. When he is a machine!
The android gazes longingly through leaking eyes. Glistening brown becomes another change in what he is supposed to be. Tears have broken in a trail down his cheeks. Androids are not meant to cry. He thought as much.
Tears threaten you too. Looking up into his face so conflicted, hurt because he’s not what they say. He’s alive. Of course he is. Only your sweet Connor would be. 
“Connor, please don’t.” Begging him again this time holds your heart on a jagged precipice. One wrong move and it will crash. “Your stress levels. Please, don’t…”
He leans his head down. Close, pressing forehead to yours, his eyelids flutter closed. “I am sorry,” Connor whispers, orbiting the warmth that pours from your body. This warmth he does not deserve.
His voice is husky heaven. Golden gates open with each syllable and you crave to hear your name. Again and again you crave his closeness. “Never apologize for what others do. They don’t know. None of them know what I know. You are more than them. You’re my Connor. With a heart of gold.”
“Androids do not have hearts as you do, Y/N.”
You smile sadly. “I know,” a whisper but next a beautiful revelation. “But this.” Fingers slide up against his chest. “It might not be the same but it thrums in a lovely song.”
 ^Software Instability
Steam rises in a soothing aroma from the mug cradled between your hands. A fresh brew of cocoa relieves mental ache. Physical? Everything is sore, tender where you fell. Changing clothes after getting back home alleviated discomfort. 
Soaking in a bath for an hour did loosen some tension. Rest of it just fails miserably. As much as you fail in public for all to see what you feel.
Still you blame yourself. Getting close to him acting as if you were out for an anniversary? How stupid can this be?
Of course he brought you that surprise breakfast. He told you why. Does that mean it was a real anniversary? What can be real about buying someone? Nothing is. It just reminds you about every sad truth. Those protesters made it clear.
Pursing lips to smoothly blow away steam, frothy top rich as you sip in a seat on couch. Toasty liquid fills insides with a burning comfort. This is the only solitude needed. Enough time to think it still edges nerves. 
Waiting for a word with Connor, he hasn’t been acknowledging much. Since what happened and who can blame him?
Part of you is still frightened. For him you just cannot help feeling afraid. What if he leaves the house for an errand and-and he’s jumped? What if he’s attacked?
There is no guessing. Possibilities are high. They will happen. They are happening. Each day it grows worse ever since that android who murdered that man. Pretending not to see makes you complicit. You don’t want to pretend. You will face reality no matter how dangerous it is becoming in Detroit.
“Y/N.”
Your head lifts. Peering over towards his husky drawl of your name straightens your perch. Leaning over deposits mug on coffee table and you wait. He appears as conflicted as before. 
Please, let him be OK. Just don’t let this ruin what you have found. 
All you care about is him. Yes, it’s true now. All these months and there are nothing greater than personal truths.
Connor hesitates. Ruminating over his actions offers him zero outcomes explaining his loss of control. There is only one solution. He is malfunctioning.
Something in his handsome face twists your stomach. It stabs deeper closer he gets. Joining you now is all the fear wound up in you showing its colors. They are similar to his LED. A constant swirl is unable to land on one draw.
“I will understand if you would like to send me back for reset.”
Reset? That word just guts you. Reset. No! 
“Connor,” a sob almost overtakes your response. The very idea of him taken somewhere and operated on ripples overtakes in a squirmy skin crawl. It’s barbaric. Resetting an android’s memories is horrifying. You hear about it all the time. They are completely wiped of their –
The android’s lips part, cocking his head while listening to shaky breath falling in sad soliloquy. He does not understand. No, he-he does.
“Y/N, I… Please,” he urges comfort stretching fingers out to soft skin. They do not touch. Simply artificial hovers above humanity but something tugs center of his chest. Something deep and satisfying as his synthetic heart thrums quicker in tempo. 
Connor pushes through this grid without fully snapping chains. Already he feels a flow spreading through system. Each day he looks upon your face happier since he came. As you told him once that it makes you feel better, safer to have someone. He is not someone. He is an android. 
How can you possess such feelings? How-how can he gaze over such softness, such beauty without wishing to remain? 
The thought of being taken - scares him. 
His LED flickers, red once more but not in anger. Fear is strange. Partially for his being but the possibilities of never seeing you again are tearing his programming shackles apart. 
“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Reassuring him now is better than showing anymore of what has been lying inside. “No one will take you from me, Connor.”
Silence is best.
Sitting among a safe haven, your home offers that place now not just for you but him. Here no one can hurt this. No one can treat him inferior. Never will you treat him any different. You know it’s a fool’s game. Especially in this modern world of technology strives, transitions and creates intelligent life in humanity’s image. He is more than a sculpture, perfected work made for duties.
Today, Connor acted as any man would for the person they…. No. It can never be that. Neither does it stop how you felt. How he could tamper with his program just to be there for you.
None of this should have happened. You repeat it over and over again in your mind. None of this because of a fantasy; your eyes fall to his hand. Fingers touch yours now. It is soft, gentle and only a moment.
Connor pulls away too soon. Just a minute he allows himself to fall. Your reaction to his suggestion, no solution, cripples his code blocks. Almost he shattered them. They are close to crumbling. He must fight this deviancy. Only to stay with you because the android already knows what will happen to him. It’s happening to all of his people. Those who are succumbing to errors are hunted. They are murdered. 
No they are destroyed, deactivated. His kind is not alive.
If that is true... Why does he feel threads of humanity? Why does he feel alive with you?
Meeting his gaze deepens this sensation of fear. Today, waking up to a sunny morning seems so far away. It was just earlier. Horrible things happen and change perspectives. Tiny moments of peace and that’s what he brought. Into your life following circumstances you never expected to gain something worthwhile. He won’t even believe that. He thinks he should be reset. That will never happen.
“Connor, I want you to know something. And I want you to believe me. Not think of who you are.”
“I am – no one, Y/N.” The android dismisses for your sake. If he becomes deviant they will take him from you.
All you do is shake your head, cupping his face. In your hands he softens. Those sharp edges, cheekbones thumbs now caress. Soft skin in a freckle stardust that makes hearts flutter. Better than butterfly wings, better than anything you can use to describe how it unmakes your soul.
“It would break my heart,” a shaky whisper strangles. “If you are reset.”
An instant flood of scarlet reflects his inner feelings. You see it. He never has to admit. But he does feel. That’s what makes this harder. Knowing how afraid he must be not to show it. There has to be something happening inside of him. There are too many examples now.
“Con, I want you to…”
Dropping hands from his face makes it easy to turn in direction of doorbell. Who is that? Slowly you rise to feet, sliding fingers down atop his shoulder. “I’ll get it.” Striding away out of room quickly prevents him ignoring your request. Another sign but that’s for another day. As if it will be any easier.
Unlocking the door leads to a horrible drop in your stomach. Eyes connect with the woman standing there now, out of the blue, someone least expected and at the worst time imaginable.
“Hello, Y/N,” the older, staunch woman smiles, already assessing you like a microscopic Petri dish sample. “It’s been quite a long time hasn’t it?”
A long time is putting it mildly. Last time was on the phone and her trying to sink her claws into your father’s nest egg. The one he left you.
The conversation left on a sour note. There is nothing sourer than a rotten apple and your aunt is the literal evil queen hoarding an entire bundle.
Tag List: @tropfenlady​  @your-taxidermy @catastrophes-light  @rk900sexual  @tommy-10-k  @dreamyby @randomfandomgirl1996 @etherealcel @justashamwithwastedpotiental // tagging a few extra who I know would want a heads up <3
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ML Interview:
After a first introductory season of the Miraculous universe and a second season in which Ladybug and Chat Noir were able to deepen their learning of budding superheroes, the third was the trial of the heroine Marinette. Dupain-Cheng. In the heart of Paris, this shy and clumsy college girl has become Ladybug, a superheroine who is assertive and dressed. At his side, handsome Adrien Agreste, humble and sensitive, turns into a very confident and enterprising Black Cat. One and the other do not know who is behind their costume. Together, they fight the Papillon and Mayura and their army of super-villains.
New miraculous and new powers have appeared in season 3 broadcast since last April on TF1, reinforcing the potential of heroes. In parallel with this struggle between good and evil, the series also relates the tormented life of a small group of Parisian college students, their friendships, their passions, their first love stories, their joys, their sorrows ... In the middle of all this, Marinette's unacknowledged love for Adrien and their rapprochement with, respectively, Luka and Kagami. A few days ago, we met Miraculous's thinking headsin a Paris office during their writing workshop ... Season 5: Thomas Astruc, the creator of the series, Sebastien Thibaudeau, director of writing and executive producer and writers Mélanie Duval and Frédéric Lenoir.
LE FIGARO. - What was the general idea of ​​this season 3 of Miraculous?
Mélanie DUVAL. - Very familiarly, we wrote the episodes telling us that Marinette was going to drool. She begins her school year by losing her place in the class. She already had Chloe as an enemy, she ended up with a second, Lila. The love of her life is coveted by another ... She is overwhelmed!
Thomas ASTRUC. -It was both a season focused on Master Fu (the guardian of the miraculous, ed) and both a test of Marinette. To pull our characters up, you have to know how to make them fall very low. Many things unfold, jostle and end in the finale. The series could have stopped there with this sweet bitter end. Nothing is predictable in Miraculous .
Is there a real chronology to respect following the episodes?
Sebastien THIBAUDEAU. - Each story is an entry point, we give back all the necessary information for a non-initiate to the universe of Miraculous to understand.
Thomas ASTRUC. -There are seasonal chronologies. The stories of the first season must precede those of the second, which themselves must be before the third. But each season has a particular taste with, in its first episode, an inventory. In the middle, a set that can be viewed in almost any order where each episode will bring new information. And in the end, a last episode where all the pieces of the puzzle fit together. This one series that you can watch many times, you will always discover something new.
Sebastien THIBAUDEAU. -In the first season, we tested things like showing Chloe playing with Ladybug. This started the development of his character. Gradually, we began to sow elements that made sense later.
How came the idea of ​​the episode called White Cat that shows what would happen in the future if the two heroes fell in love with each other?
Thomas ASTRUC. - This is an episode that required a year of writing work and we finally see little bits of what we had originally imagined. The TV channels had validated the first version (TF1 in France, Disney Channel in the United States and Gloob in Brazil, ed) but we had decided to review our copy. It is extremely rare for authors to make this kind of decision, but for us it was not good enough. We still did not have enough control over the world of our characters to be able to write it correctly, we had to take our time.
Sebastien THIBAUDEAU. - We wrote flashbacks that I did not believe. They did not fit the mentality of our characters. We stopped everything to start from scratch with the initial idea: what would happen if Marinette and Adrien were together and if Adrien knew that Marinette was hiding from her that she was Ladybug? It took us an extra week. Once this work was done, we were able to focus on the present of the heroes and disseminate plots of our flashbacks. We still have scenes that we loved but were not used for lack of space. Initially, Chat Blanc was a season 2 episode but it finally took place at the end of season 3.
Does the story of Chat Blanc annihilate the possibility of a love relationship between Marinette and Adrien?
Thomas ASTRUC. - The White Cat episode does not close the possibility of a relationship between them but it shows how delicate it would be. These are the two heroes, the villain wants to sting their miraculous so a romantic relationship would be dynamite. It is to handle with care, it could not happen anyhow or anytime. A priori, as long as a villain is in search of their miraculous, it will be complicated ... Since the beginning, we know that if they know their respective secret identity, it would be enough that one or the other has a negative emotion for to be acumatized and give the Butterfly what he wants. With the episode White Cat , you now know what would happen if they went out together.
In the Timetagger episode , you gave us another projection of the future of Ladybug and Black Cat ...
Thomas ASTRUC. - The future is not fixed, that's what the episode Chat Blanc could demonstrate. But we can afford to assert certain things because we have a very long-term vision of the series and we know where we want to bring it. Time travel is often double-edged. A child will consider this phenomenon for the first time while a teenager or an adult will have other references like Terminator , Back to the Future , Doctor Who and be more critical. Paradoxically, a child will understand things more naturally.
Frédéric LENOIR. - We master the universe of the series so it's easy to play with our characters and to confront them to different situations. We seek above all to build stories that are interesting and understandable.
Thomas ASTRUC. - We think that what children do not know, they learn. When they are confronted with new things in Miraculous , we become their first explanation. It does not matter if they do not immediately understand some winks, they can understand them later. The names of the protagonists, the costumes of the superheroes, the places ... There are a multitude of small clues to dig which are full of cultural information. For example, the story of Master Fu's girlfriend in Rewousse is a tribute to the grandmother of our screenwriter Frédéric Lenoir, who is a former resistance fighter . We called her Marianne Lenoir.
What values ​​do you wish to convey through the episodes of Miraculous ?
Mélanie DUVAL. - We are sensitive to the impact of pop culture on young people. We are very careful not to show in the series of things that could have a bad influence on their imagination. I remember having hated this figure given here or there to the class-nerd abused by his comrades. In Miraculous, we have the sportsman, the intellectual, the good girlfriend, the plague ... But no one is mistreated. We show a kind of ideal where the big sporty can be the best friend of the intellectual. And in the face of a negative character like Chloe, the question is not going to be how to make her nice, but rather how to react to her. His girlfriend Sabrina is abused but she did not say her last word.
Thomas ASTRUC. - This degree of submission to the wrong person is something that one has to deal with. But to achieve this, we must first establish the basics, show the facts and behaviors. Sabrina's problem requires time to be effectively settled.
Frédéric LENOIR. -If you approach and solve a problem too quickly, you may treat it too mechanically and theoretically. Our principle is to approach each theme in a constructive and rewarding way. We go over what we should not do because we believe strongly in what to do. Our characters also believe in it. We always try to go to the light.
Sebastien THIBAUDEAU. - We are careful to show things that are right, to convey good values ​​and this leads us to have long philosophical debates during our writing workshops. You can spend a whole day thinking about the meaning of an episode. When we meet parents who tell us that what we tell their child is good, we are really flattered.
What will we reserve the fourth season of Miraculous ?
Mélanie DUVAL. - This is the season when the characters really take control of the series.
Thomas ASTRUC. - In season 3, Marinette suffered and in season 4, it will be a bomb by episode. This is the equivalent of the impact of a White Cat in each episode. Everyone will be flabbergasted. She has new responsibilities and she is maturing. At the site level, after the Grévin museum and the Saint-Martin canal, we will visit the Swan Island.
Sebastien THIBAUDEAU. -Season 4 is the one that surprised us the most. All your certainties will be upset. And it will also be the season of the episode 100, it will be necessary to watch it. And a special episode will wait before the release of season 4. Many events will mark the year 2020.
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ZP Fanfiction Review
Hellooo internet! Welcome to GAAAAAAYYY THEORY-
I am so sorry.
Anyway, welcome to what I can only call a test run for a series I've decided to start. For more info, I'd recommend reading my previous post. To give a brief explanation, I criticize written works done by others in order to help myself and others improve, and recently I've turned my attention to ZP fanfiction (as you do). This series is in no way meant to shame anyone or anything like that. I am simply stating my opinion, and anyone reading this can take whatever they want from it.
Now, while I do take requests, for the first few of these posts, I put the titles of random fics that I have read, and pulled one out at random. Since I admittedly haven't asked these writers for permission, if one of them contact me and wish for me to take a review down, I will. Do not send any negative bullshit to anyone whose fics I review.
With that said, I hope you enjoy, because today we're going to look at a fanfiction posted on Wattpad by a Tumblr user known as @thiccdemonlover69-blog. Now, something I want to make clear is that this was written back in 2017. This isn't representative of this user (who I will refer to as TDL) 's current writing abilities. The fic in question is this one here,
So, originally, I was going to do a full synopsis of the story, but I ultimately decided against it. Not only did it make the post longer than it needed to be, but knowing myself, I would undoubtedly leave something out by mistake. Therefore, I encourage you to read the story before continuing this review. I will be going through it chapter by chapter, and I will give my thoughts on each one.
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Chapter 1 "A Normal Day... or so Damian thought "
Not too much to say here since this is an introductory chapter and not much really happens in it. Because of this, however, I thought that I would take the opportunity to address what I already predict will be an elephant in the room.
Like most of us fans, TDL has their Headcanons and theories about the ZP characters. You'll notice in the story that Satan and Damian have a slightly different relationship than in the comic, as Satan is more present in his son's life here. This is just an example of what I'm talking about. Now, I actually don't have a problem with this by itself. I'm all for writers including their own unique ideas in fanfiction, however, I have a problem with some of the changes made by TDL to the characters and setting. There's nothing egregious here, but as we go on, I think you'll be able to understand what I mean.
One positive for this chapter is that it serves its' purpose as an intro very well. We get an idea of the upcoming conflict without it being spelt out.
Chapter 2 "At Hell No. 2 (School)"
Ok, so overall this chapter in itself isn't terrible considering how it introduces the relationships between various characters here and further sets up the upcoming conflict. However, I have to ask some questions about the characters. First, I've noticed that throughout the story, certain characters that you'd expect to make an appearance I guess just don't exist here. Sahara and Narissa (Dame's mum), for instance, have apparently been snapped by Thanos. Meanwhile, some characters have noticeably different personalities. Jack, for instance, is much less shy and passive and has more or less taken on Zill's personality. Also, I guess he and Dame are buds now. Kayla... is a whole topic that I will touch on later. Eli wasn't introduced in the comic, and the best we have is his character sheet, so I guess he's ok here? Addi is in character, Autumn barely exists, Zill... just kind of exists? Finally, Dame has had a few weird changes to him that I'll touch on in a bit.
Ch. 3 "A Not-So-Normal School day"
Ok, so let's talk about Kayla real quick, shall we?
A common sin committed by inexperienced writers is the tendency to villanize characters in order to push the narrative forward. In this story, Kayla is practically cartoonish in how awful she is. She's physically harmful, a bitch, a homophobe, and is overpossesive of Zill. I get the idea that TDL doesn't like Kayla, because to me it seems like she was turned into a bitchy Leeson. Now, Kayla in cannon can get frustrated and angry at times, but for the most part, she's a nice person. She's the type to defend others against bullying, and would never bully someone else. Not only that, but I don't buy this version of Kayla because canonically she's scared of Dame. His appearance alone is enough to make her yeet herself across the room. If she did something such as knocking something of his off his desk, she'd probably panic.
I can only imagine two reasons why she was changed in such a way. One, to have Damian not crush on her. Now, if this is the case, I don't think villainizing Kayla is necessary. You can just say that Damian outgrew his crush on her and be done with it. Two, is to create drama. If this is the case, is Kayla really the best candidate for the drama causer here? I wouldn't think so, and you could probably replace Kayla with someone who'd be more likely to bully someone, like Rusty or Baltimore or something.
Aside from Kayla, another problem I want to mention is that art class scene. Addi's mum getting a minor to pose nude in front of his class is actually kind of creepy, and I don't believe that it would be aloud.
Chapter 4. "The Second, more worst bully"
First of all, that title could use a rewrite.
This chapter mainly exists so the story can show how much of a bitch Kayla is now, and I've already spoken about that. I will mention some positives, however. Something I like in this story is whenever TDL adds in little details like characters having secret handshakes or characters eating dinosaur nuggets. I know this seems small, but this random little specifics give the story a cute, quirky charm that I am here for.
Chapter 5. "The Moment Damian has Been Waiting for "
Not too much goes on in this chapter. We get some funny bit of dialogue ("Ooh, is that drama I see" made me crack up) and a wierd scene where Dame is suddenly One Punch Man, and he cracks Jack's skull open by simply bonking him on the back of the head.
Since there's not much to say, I want to take the opportunity to talk about Damian in this story. First, again, I don't have an issue with writers adding in their ideas to their fics. The whole thing with him being a cross dresser? Cool. That's it. That is my entire thought on that.
There are some other changes that confuse me, however. For instance, the ADHD is integrated really weirdly. It gets brought up at really random times, nothing is really done with it, and overall it just seems to serve as a reason for Dame acting hyper. The story could have just had one line that said "Damian has ADHD " and nothing would have changed.
Another thing, and this isn't something exclusive to TDL, but apparently Damian is homosexual. Not bi, just gay. This is a change I actually see a lot of the time with Dame, and I don't know why. Like... is it so difficult to imagine him liking more than one gender? Do you think that he needs to be gay in order to be in a homosexual relationship? Because he doesn't. Bisexuals can do the same thing as gays. It's just such a random change that it just bugs me.
There's also the fact that Damian is apparently amazing at everything. He's an A plus student, a great actor, a great artist, etc. I'm not sure what TDL is going for with this angle. It's something else that just seems random, because the only thing that this does is make teachers confused about why Dame is sad and it makes other characters freak out about how brilliant Damian is.
Chapter 6. "The Date"
Ok, let's all just admit it. Damian going "RIBS RIBS RIBS RIBS..." is in one way or another a fucking mood for everyone. Don't you fucking lie to me.
The interactions between Eli and Dame are mostly cute, and we get some funny dialogue here too. The one issue I have is something not exclusive to this chapter, and it's how Damian is kind of treated like a child. Characters talk about him like his a little kid, and even the way Eli talks to him to calm him down in this chapter is (to me) reminiscent of a babysitter dealing with a hyperactive kid. I bring this up now because I want you all to remember this. It will get creepy later on...
Chapter 7. "The crazy household of Damian "
Easily my favorite chapter.
We still get bits where Dame is kind of treated like a child, but it's barely noticeable here. TDL is actually pretty good at writing wholesome scenes and scenes where a couple characters are just hanging out. This chapter actually reminded me of events that happened in my own life, so believe it or not, I actually got a nostalgia hit reading this. This chapter just put a smile on my face. Shame that it came right before the worst chapter. Buckle in kids.
Chapter "It's Time... and Absolutely Everything goes to shit"
What a fitting title!
First, let's talk about how not a lot in this chapter makes sense. Ok, so everyone knows that Kayla doesn't like Dame and shit could go down if they ever cross paths. And yet, they bring Damian to a party at Kayla's house, and act surprised when shit hits the fan. This happens again when Damian tries to talk to Kayla, and she spits in his drink. I don't know what any of these characters were expecting. There's a weird focus on food in this chapter. Kayla ironically becomes a badass because she decks someone and immediately follows that up by heading off to pop lock and drop it on the dance floor. Zill exists, and he's drunk. He makes out with Damian because.... Kayla's a homophobe? I think that's the reason? Jack literally gets into a fucking wrestling match with Kayla. Rusty is just here. Eli disappears for a while, and I guess Addi just teleported out of the party because the only contribution that he makes is that he messes up the time.
Ok, my favorite scene here is when Dame is like "oh I don't wanna dance bc I sad" and Rusty just shows up for some reason and remarks very loudly that Damian is good at ballet. This info is so shocking, the DJ, who somehow heard this over the music, turns off the tunes, there's awkward silence, and then everyone laughs at Damian. No. I don't get it either. Like... how did anyone hear Rusty, how fucking loud was Rusty talking, how did people know who Rusty was referring to, why is the concept that a dude does ballet so shocking, especially when you'd think that the fact that he's the antichrist is more shocking? Like... am I just having a fucking stroke right now?
Oh, and remember how I mentioned how Damian is treated like a child in this story? Remember how Damian is a teenager, and in other words, a minor? So, apparently, not only do we learn that Damian once got a boner but his father spanking him, but apparently Styx, an adult, has had sex with Damian on multiple occasions. And yes, this info is revealed in throwaway lines. If you listen closely, you can faintly make out the sound of someone screaming "FBI, OPEN UP!"
Granted, TDL was a teen at the time of writing this, so no big whoop on their part. Still doesn't make this any less creepy.
Oh yeah, and Damian fucking dies at the end except he doesn't because plot twist, bitch! We were reading a Steven Universe fanfiction the entire time! Ok, no, this is actually another Headcanon by TDL, but st this rate, between the Headcanons which anyone who doesn't know TDL would be confused by and the characters acting weirdly, I am honestly having trouble saying for sure if this fic takes place in the comic's setting, or in some type of AU.
For brevity's sake, I'll just go over the last two chapters. Tldr, Damian is fine, Lucifer gets Kayla expelled, Kayla get tortured, Lucifer is super happy with himself, and everyone lives happily ever after.
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If I had to sum up my feelings on this story, the first half for me is a mixed bag. It has its' glaring problems, but the humor and writing style make the fic endearing and enjoyable. If the story ended at "the Date ", I would have thoroughly enjoyed it. But then everything just kind of falls off the rails. Stuff happens because... well I guess just because. We get an unintentionally creepy ending to an otherwise wholesome trip, and the Headcanons included here are put in so randomly with no explanation that I can only imagine what someone who didn't have any context to them would say.
The thing is, I think that this fic actually gives a good example of a lot of problems beginners have. I'm certain that TDL nowadays could write a better story, and they certainly have potential. Hell, if one were to fix a few things in here, this fic would be a lot better.
Still, I hope that this review gives you at least a couple ideas of what to look for in some of your own stories. Also, feel free to tell me what you think.
I apologize for wasting your time.
- ATOUN
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ayankun · 4 years
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yalright let’s do this
AGENTS OF SHIELD SEASON ONE REWATCH COMPLETE BREAKDOWN MEGAPOST
hella spoilers for the entire canon up through season 5, but not 6 because I only saw it the once and am having a hard time remembering ANYthing about it.
I cannot determine specifically what it was about this season that caused to be branded “literal garbage” in my mind-hole for seven years.
Best guesses:
there’s some cheesy stuff that probably didn’t sit well with me at the time, and, at the time, there was no way of knowing that that kind of stuff was going to be ultimately eradicated
there’s some good stuff, like character stuff and plot stuff, but it didn’t successfully implant positive emotional responses in my brain-hole, leading me to be frustrated/offended at its own self-importance
there’s some stuff that just Doesn’t Work.  I won’t call anybody out, but there are some main side characters whose casting, in my opinion, leaves much to be desired.  when it comes to acting ability, I feel that it’s important to have the ranges of your entire cast match each other.  if you’re gonna hire B-listers, at least make sure they’re ALL B-listers.  if you’re gonna splurge and get some S-tier talent, pleeeeease don’t embarrass the B-listers by thinking you’re doing them a favor by including them on your project.  Understood, this opinion is highly subjective and I can’t expect everyone in front or behind the screen to buy into it, but it’s definitely a pet peeve of mine that causes strong reactions in me*
some of the plots are tired and/or straight up boring.  I got through them easily this time through because I was able to focus on the things I like, which is largely character interactions and re-learning the backstory for stuff that I know will continue to be important later on.  imagine listening to your grandpa’s stories about his life, but instead of telling you the cool stories about going to the moon or whatever, he’s telling you in great detail about the time he got his shoelaces stuck on like, a rusty nail sticking out of a fence.  It’s not a great story but it does explain why his mom only bought him velcro shoes after that and one time when they were trying on shoes in the store a couple of years later, some other kid started making fun of him for having velcro shoes and long story short your grandpa’s relationship with that kid is what got him interested in astrophysics and also he married that kid twenty-five years later -- but right now the story is specifically about spending forty minutes trying not to get tetanus.
Now that I’m older and wiser, what really surprised me throughout, though, was that not only was I not having any type of reaction that validated my “literal garbage” classification, I was noticing that there was A Lot of stuff that ticked a lot of boxes.
I’m talking technical stuff, the textbook basic filmmaking stuff, the stuff that I subjectively find objectively “Good” because it means that creative decisions were made with intent and were also executed proficiently enough to make that intent clear.
I’m talking SYMMETRICAL NARRATIVE which has to be one of my all-time favorite techniques, one that I personally use a lot, and I’m very biased in responding favorably when I see it, so I think ultimately this is a huge reason why this season cannot be classified as garbage this time around.  Because it shows that they cared!  It shows that they had A Plan!  It’s an emotionally satisfying technique that can be used to great effect when tipping the audience off to how far we’ve come from where we started.  It creates this nice tidy structural loop which I find very appealing.
Just real quick, you see this in individual episodes or even scenes, too.  Here’s a classic A+ example from episode 2:
Simmons has given Skye a bottle of water as a gag because that’s what happens on planes, and that bit is a set up to this bit, where Coulson is talking about how he rebuilt the Bus from the “studs up” and it demands to be treated with kid gloves; ergo:
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Only to have the thing completely wrecked over the course of the episode.  In the denouement, “just starting to warm up to this place,” Coulson says ruefully, righting a broken glass as if that will put the plane back together; Skye immediately tosses a coaster down and moves the glass on top of it.
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As a callback, it juxtaposes the starting-state and ending-state in your mind and highlights the contrast between the two.  And it’s also a nice character-building beat where you, the audience, get to observe Skye’s character in that she remembers a trivial detail that happened to be important to Coulson.  You also get to see Coulson observing the same, and you understand a little bit more about both of them.  *chef’s kiss*
So this is a pretty powerful and common technique, and I guess you could say that any well-resolved narrative is by definition going to recall you to the specifics of how it started.  Like ep 1 we start with Mike and Ace, their call and response “what are we/we’re a team,” and an understanding of Mike’s desire to be his kid’s guardian and hero and his desperate search for the tools that will allow him to become that.  In the finale, we see the pay off where Ace (via Skye) reminds Mike of this motivation, and Mike is finally in the position to protect his kid by taking out the Big Bad.
But I don’t want to go through the list to demonstrate that everyone’s character arcs likewise left them in a thematically resolved position relative to where they started.  Obviously this is an expectation of all (well structured) narratives. 
(And I don’t really mean to talk about callbacks themselves, such as Fitz’s obsession with monkeys or May’s repeated demand of “don’t call me that.”)
Stuff that only comes up at the beginning and the end.  Here’s the kind of symmetry that I mean:
Skye’s use of GPS encryption and the location of the diner where she first meets Mike.  Both topics come up in ep 1, and are revisited in ep 20 when she’s stalling for time against Ward and brings him to the diner by telling him that it’s the GPS coordinates necessary for decrypting the drive.  It says, last time you were here, Skye, you were living out of a van and fangirling over people with superpowers; now you’re an official agent of SHIELD (fun while it lasted, anyway) and you’re currently doublecrossing your own doublecrosser who was directly responsible for transforming you into the competent spy you are today.
Same thing: the only time we see Lola fly is at the end of ep 1, when Coulson and Skye are heading back to the Bus, and in ep 20 when Coulson rescues Skye from off the Bus.
Ep 2: 0-8-4.  We’re introduced to the very first object with the titular designation, and Simmons idly wonders “imagine what it would do to a person.”  Ep 22, it’s used to evaporate Garrett.  Same ep, we also meet the little, what even is it, that dendrotoxin EMP (??? I don’t recall whether the gadget is named) that Ward uses, and Coulson uses it in ep 17 to incapacitate Garrett.
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Similarly, all the cool alien gadgets we spent the first few episodes gathering and locking up, including that first 0-8-4, are all broken out into the wrong hands in ep 18.
Also in ep 2 we are introduced to the idea of being thrown out of the airplane and Skye & co specifically prevent Ward from being sucked out.  We’re introduced to the concept of Coulson’s cellist!  Fury also makes a cameo (”talkin to me about authority”) ! 
It’s a little later on, but ep 6 has Simmons jumping out the plane, and Ward proving his Good Teammate status by jumping out after her (while Fitz is struggling on his way to do the same).  Ep 21, Ward boots FitzSimmons out the plane, and in ep 22 Fitz finally has the chance to properly save Simmons himself.
Ep 19 Coulson has a chance to save his cellist (again)
Ep 22, Fury comes back all Deus ex Machina and relinquishes authority of SHIELD directly to Coulson.
There’s also some dialogue recycled on purpose to make a point, like Fitz-Simmons introductory scene is recreated almost verbatim in ep 21:
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Ep 2, talking to Skye about his mission vs ep 18 talking to Raina about his mission
(gotta admit, the man took this role seriously.  check out that cheekbone game he achieved in such a short time)
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And again, Ep 1 Ward vs Ep 18 Ward.  They even framed it the same!!
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All this to say, Season 1 is Structurally Sound and it has my blessing.
Now let’s move on to the list of things I liked that surprised me:
It’s pretty well polished, visually.  Joss Whedon’s veteran control of the director’s chair is readily apparent in the pilot, setting the visual tone for the series.  There are some made-for-tv shots over the course of the season, sure, and the least impressive compositions tend to involve CGI backdrops, but they do make the most of their interior sets and work hard to dress up various LA locations to, er, inspire the idea of the international scope of the show.  In my last update, I talked about ep 8 The Well in the context of Quality Directing, so it definitely goes above and beyond the basic shot-reverse shot when it wants to.
Ward.  Just for the record, I think Brett Dalton is great at his job and really brought exactly what they wanted to this character.  Eps 1 and 2 are a little shaky and stiff, but everyone’s performances are, as they let these characters coalesce around them.  I remember not liking Ward when I was watching this live, and honestly I think this was intentional.  He’s that character that you expect that you’re expected to like, you know, the traditional cocky savior type that lots of those fancy heroes are.  But because he’s so tropey in his characterization, you’re just ... over it?  And then when they flip the script and you’re supposed to hate him -- WOW.  It’s like two Christmases at once.  They took something you were already doing and rewarded you for it.
I’m not unaware of the “redeem grant ward” phenomenon.  I’m aware that the character had fans who were honestly drawn to and appreciative of the character before that persona was revealed to be a lie.
And honestly, it’s not that I like OR dislike Ward at all.  As a person.  It’s annoying that he’s a cocky bad-boy.  But it’s sweet when he plays nice with Simmons.  It’s embarrassing that he and May have “a thing.”  But it’s cathartic when he opens up to Skye about his past.  And Then, the sequence where we know he’s Hydra but Skye doesn’t.  And Then, the sequence where Skye knows he’s Hydra but he doesn’t.  And Then, his weird yucky confusion where he still wants to pursue something with Skye or doesn’t want to put down puppy-dog-eyed Fitz.
As a character, Ward is a great character.  His set up is so bland that the twist does appear to come out of nowhere, but on a rewatch all the groundwork is there.  His characterization as a baddie is enthralling.  I’m forecasting into season 2 a bit, but you want to follow his nefarious exploits just as much as you want to see his ex-friends smash his face in.  Brett Dalton played it right, A+ good job.  It makes Framework!Ward just that much more of a beautiful thing, to get to see what it would have been like if the Season 1 persona had actually been the man.
Also as covered in the last update, I was really very pleased to see how much character work was being done in this season.  Because I only watch and rewatch starting from the second season, there are important plot points that I’d been grudgingly attributing to this season about which I’d forgotten the specifics, such as, what’s the deal with Gravitonium, howcome we hate Ward so much, where did they get that memory-torture-machine, why are you acting like I recognize Titus Welliver’s character?  What surprised me was how much of a focus there is on character development as well.  A lot of good origin story stuff, like how green FitzSimmons is and how soft and good-hearted Skye is and all the reasons we respect and trust May and all the reasons we would follow Coulson to the ends of the earth.  Watching a found family start to put down roots is worth it, too, ten times out of ten.
The tie-in stuff wasn’t as overstated and stifling as I remembered it being.  They were allowed quite a long leash even this far back.  Centipede is based on Extremis, but helms a a unique narrative.  The Asgardians-of-the-week are just MacGuffins for driving character stories.  Turns out all of SHIELD has been Hydra all along!  Sucks to be you, a show about the Agents of SHIELD ... oh wait, Daddy MCU’s insane twist is mirrored in the DNA of your team’s composition AND baked into your overall season arc?  Well then.  Carry on!
Engaging with Season 1 explicitly as a prequel is a powerful thing.  First time through, I had the distinct realization that “too much of a good thing” was at play regarding Coulson.  He’s everybody’s favorite MCU character in 2013, hands down, but ... getting intimate with him for 40 minutes a week really waters down his mysterious G-man appeal.  BUT.  After spending six+ years with the man, Season 1!Coulson is a precursor to the 3-dimensional Director you’ll fall in love with, rather than a distortion of the one-liner MCU!Coulson you thought you wanted.
So what’s next!  Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and here all all the things I associate with AoS that were not present in Season 1:
Robot hand.
DaISy JoHnsOn
AGENT/DIRECTOR MACK where is he I need him
Fitz’s facial hair
Their underground SSR base with the exposed brick, I miss that place all the time
Hive, Bobbi*, Hunter, Kyle MacLachlan, Maveth (everything** about Seasons 2 and 3, really).  Robbie Reyes.  Aida and Kasius!!  I know these things are temporary, but they’re so important to the best bits and I love them.
Getting to see episode after episode where there are scenes at a time containing a majority (up to 100%) of women and/or POC characters with executive agency, and none of those characters are token or temporary but were placed there with intent to normalize a diversified cast.
My absolute favorite episode of all time, 4x15 Self Control.
Things I am not looking forward to:
**Lincoln.  I’ve seen these seasons four times and just now I had to google his name because I wasn’t sure it wasn’t Logan.  He’s garbage and I’m glad he’s dead.  Other opinions are available.
Misc. Thoughts
*I said I wouldn’t name names but Adrianne Palicki is a C-lister who can swing a B+ if the stars align. I love Bobbi, though, especially the way the character’s reputation precedes her, how her adorableness complements her badassness.  In fact, the character’s a great foil to May, who is also a badass lady and S-tier agent but has a completely different approach to being those things.  Bobbi’s a reminder that badassness and aloofness are not correlated at all.  Also there’s a headcanon out there that she’s non-binary (one of the reasons she prefers Bobbi over Barbara) and that is a concept I can get behind.  Bobbi’s perfect and I’ll fight you if you don’t agree.
Poor Trip!!!!!!!  When you always start from Season 2, he’s really just a flash in the pan, there and gone.  I’ve always been like, “well, he didn’t really have a home here, no carved-out niche, so I guess getting Coulson’d and becoming something to avenge is the best a character like him is gonna get.”  But now that I see that he comes late to the game as a literal stand in for Ward, his story is that much sadder.  He was never intended to BE a character.  He’s introduced with Garrett as a pawn/distraction during this arc’s who-is-Hydra shell game, he’s kept to demonstrate what kind of friend and agent Ward should have been, his defining character trait as a gentle flirt only serves as a catalyst for Fitz’s coming to terms with his feelings for Simmons.  The poor guy is just a walking plot point, up until the bitter end.  :<
I had entirely forgotten and/or never tracked the fact that Fury put together Coulson’s team specifically to monitor him after project T.A.H.I.T.I.  I’d forgotten the distrust Coulson has for May after he perceives that she has betrayed him by being a part of this.  It’s a season-specific reveal that is literally never mentioned again.  It’s important to the fabric of the narrative of that particular arc, offering up May alongside Ward and Trip as fodder for the aforementioned shell game, but the true inciting incident of this entire show just gets swept under the rug and ceases to matter.  I’m kind of :/ about that.
When you’re bi and non-binary, you’ll get a lot of mileage out of wanting to be/be with Daisy and/or Fitz, don’t judge me
In conclusion, Season 1 is the opposite of literal garbage, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. is my favorite show and my favorite MCU movie, Daisy Johnson is my favorite Marvel superhero (not related to Season 1 but still true), and nobody had better spoil Season 7 for me pleaAAASE don’t let it happen.
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lcyalty · 4 years
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i don’t feel like making a joke to break the ice so here’s one of my favorite tiktoks: https://vm.tiktok.com/s1rSS5/ . anyways, hiii, fed admin sabrina here :) time to check off the introductory personality checklist: i’m 20, a leo, a slytherin, a woc, a pre-law major on the east coast, uhhhh harry styles and marvel trash, i play over 10 instruments, i prefer the thigh over the chicken breast, and i’m really happy u all r here and joined my little creation :’) smack that read more to learn abt my children daisy moretti and jude valentine so we can plot !!
                                                             DAISY MORETTI.                                                  pinterest: https://pin.it/7unKPi8                                                                     the basics: full name: daisy mia moretti | hometown: the bronx, new york | zodiac: aries | orientation: bisexual | employment status: intern on the news broadcasts floor | positive traits: social, determined, hardworking, attentive, confident, smart | negative traits: rude, irresponsible, cunning, cutthroat, insensitive, selfish
the backstory:
here’s the best way i can describe daisy: take the love for fashion and luxury of carrie bradshaw and cher horowitz, mix it with the power and intensity of olivia pope, and add in all the meanness of every single rude, b*tchy person you can think of. that’s her.
daisy was born to a huge italian family who all had odd jobs; her dad specialized in fixing the batteries on smoke detectors. her mom ran the laundromat down the street. a lot of her uncles owned car detailing businesses and she had a couple of older cousins who were janitors or low-level staff members at the local middle schools. while her family was fine with this, because hey, it paid the bills, daisy, who had always had expensive tastes from the start, turned her nose at it all.
she, unsurprisingly, became the first in her family to make it past high school. daisy did absolutely every major, resume-boosting thing while she was in school, because she learned very quickly that she liked power and being better than others. there was something she loved about coming home from school and getting to brag about her debate team win while her cousins could only nod. 
she was great at school, and she made sure everyone knew. she did mock trial, debate, sga -- she even joined the environmental club just for the clout. and then one of the people in her model un group said she should run for president one day.
it made sense. daisy likes power, she likes bossing people around and always being right, and she doesn’t take shit from anyone. she’d be a fantastic fucking president. so, naturally, after finishing college and pushing through an internship she didn’t really like just so she could have another bullet point on her resume, daisy applied for an internship at masters international. she knew she’d get the gig, obviously.
daisy loves fashion and luxury. she spends majority of her money on vintage chanel tweed matching sets to wear into the office, she has red bottoms that give her four extra inches of height, and her foundation costs over a hundred dollars. you’d think she’d want to be on the floors that deal with vogue and help organize new york fashion week, but that’s not going to get her a presidency, duh. daisy interns on the floors that handle the news broadcasts so she gets firsthand knowledge on all the shit, political or otherwise, that goes down in the country.
i would love to type more but i don’t want to hint at anything that points to her secret, so i’m going to explain a little more about daisy’s personality
she’s so, so controlling and bossy. she wants to be the absolute best at everything, and the shining star of it all. daisy’s definitely an attention hog, and she’ll bust her ass on her work to make sure she’s better than everyone else on the floor with her. 
daisy’s very picky about who she hangs out with. as a future presidential candidate, optics are very important, obviously. she only surrounds herself with people she deems to be good for her image, and she’ll gladly let you know that she thinks you’re too shitty to be around. she cares a lot about how she appears to other people, you know.
daisy is selfish and rude, and truly doesn’t care if she hurts someone’s feelings. she speaks her mind and has absolutely no filter -- which gets her into a lot of trouble, i’m sure you can imagine. 
wanted connections:
enemies: if you need a bad guy or work rival in your character’s life, i wholly volunteer miss daisy moretti as that bad guy. it’s not hard for her to make enemies when you consider her personality.
ex: please please give me an angsty ex plot filled with depth and all the details. there’s gotta’ be a reason why daisy wants to be not only the first female president, but also the first president without a spouse, after all.
hookups: listen. she has needs.
                                                            JUDE VALENTINE.                                                   pinterest: https://pin.it/1dfK9dE                                                                 the basics: full name: jude lee valentine | hometown: tuscaloosa, alabama | zodiac: gemini | orientation: heterosexual | employment status: corporate attorney for masters international | positive traits: friendly, warm, sociable, extroverted, smart, witty, energetic | negative traits: compulsive, secretive, disloyal, impulsive, ignorant, desensitized
the backstory:
picture it with me: a ranch. nice pale green shutters and a huge yard. there’s cows in this picture, too, and horses. there might even be goats. there’s a tractor by the two ford trucks, a dog sleeping on the porch, and not another house for another twenty minute drive. this is what jude valentine is used to. he’s a country boy from alabama, equipped with the southern accent and everything. yes, he has a pair of cowboy boots. yes, he brought them to new york with him. yes, he pronounces creek as ‘crick’.
jude is a very sweet boy. he was quarterback in high school, got good grades, and every sunday he went to church with his family because Bible Belt things. homeboy is named after a book in the Bible. he’s all about southern manners and hospitality, about treating people kindly and always putting others first, and he always keeps his morals in check. or, he used to.
when you’re home it’s hard to stray away from what you’re used to. the same held true for jude in college, because even though he went to u of alabama (can you hear him yelling roll tide), he was still in his home state so he felt those morals still stuck with him. but then he applied for law school and got a full ride to nyu law, and whew, the Temptation
‘cuz you see, jude was always a sweetie pie. he still is! in high school he was super popular because he was tall and cute and athletic but funny and brought extra biscuits from home to hand out in homeroom. i’m not gonna lie, he’s charming af. he’s smooth and he has good jokes. the girls loved him but the little sh*t had a purity ring.
but then he got to nyc for law school and let me tell you. alabama is not close at all to manhattan, now is it. jude was fine the first couple of weeks, just worked on his case briefs in his shoe box of a starter apartment... but the women. homeboy started sleeping around a LOT after a while. y’know wet dreamz by j cole where he’s like haven’t been inside p*ssy since i came out one? yeah, that was jude until ny, and he’s very much still like that
is jude still the sweetest, nicest guy ever? yes. is jude still the type of guy to knock on your office door and ask if you want to walk to get coffee with him even though you guys have probably never met? yes. is jude the first guy on the dance floor when there’s a midnight party on the rooftop? yes. is jude the type of guy who’ll fuck with you and say no, he only listens to music made by a spoon and a blade of grass if you think he only listens to country music? yes. but he also has slept with at least twenty different interns and employees at the office, so.
he also dabbles in the occasional little pill when he’s got eight depositions to write up before tomorrow but he was too busy screwing some chick the night before. he first did this in law school. but we don’t worry about that.
stop it, i know what you’re thinking: sabrina, come on. so he sleeps around, okay. what’s the big deal about that?
here’s the big deal: he’s engaged.
lil (i say lil but he’s 6’3” while i’m only 5’0”, so lemme stfu) cupcake jude is a cheater. he’s got a whole fiancée and yet he still sleeps with other women, and each time he’s like no, okay, that was the last time for real, but then there’s a new intern at the office and the higher ups always throw the new people at him because he knows how to make people feel comfortable, and his country accent is cute and refreshing among all the new york bs, and the whole attorney thing certainly isn’t a negative, and, well. he gets tempted. and afterwards he always tells the girl okay, please, can this stay between us.
u wouldn’t know he’s engaged either bc it’s not like he’s wearing the engagement ring, now is he
i’m staying hush on daisy’s secret but jude’s is that he’s cheating on his significant other with people in the office. is he still a nice guy? heck yeah, but also, you have to be a certain kind of messed up to keep cheating on your s/o and just not tell them. that’s a lotttt of lying you’re just comfortable with. oh, what’s that? you’re threatening to tell his fiancée that you two slept together because you think she deserves to know? well. he’d hate having to do it, but... jude’s not above knocking someone down if it means his secret stays hidden.
wanted connections:
hookups: literally i will take as many hookup plots i can get. doesn’t matter if they’re an intern or an employee; jude will sleep w them and then make them promise not to tell anyone in the office afterwards because “wE’rE nOt sUpPoSeD tO sLeEp wItH cOwOrKeRs” but we all know why he wants to keep it under wraps. this also doesn’t have to be an only connection; he can be friends w someone but also hook up w them on the low too
fiancée: this one is huge for me so pls pls message me if ur seriously interested in this plot and we’ll talk !!
friends: this one is so easy bc jude will literally make conversation with a chair. he’s super sociable and fun and approachable and he loves making friends !! give me some ppl he can pester during lunch break and throw balled up pieces of paper at
best friend: he’s gotta have that one person that he just clicks really, really well with. jude talks to everyone and he’s super friendly but this person is his confidant. he goes to them w almost all of his problems and rants to them and asks for advice and likes to just be around this person. trusts them w his entire life. hmuuuuu :)
ex: listen. we all need a good ex plot and this person is probably the only one in the office jude isn’t bringing a complimentary donut to
sister: jude has a younger sister and honestly she was gonna be a npc but the idea of him looking out for her at the office and getting all (ง•̀_•́)ง when ppl r mean to her is smth i reeeeally like. or maybe they actually don’t get along that well and bicker a lot but there’s still that underlying hey i’ve got your back. you piece of shit. type feel going on !!
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pass-the-bechdel · 5 years
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Marvel Cinematic Universe: Guardians of the Galaxy (2014)
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Does it pass the Bechdel Test?
No.
How many female characters (with names and lines) are there?
Six (31.57% of cast).
How many male characters (with names and lines) are there?
Thirteen.
Positive Content Rating:
Three.
General Film Quality:
Entertaining, but overrated.
MORE INFO (and potential spoilers) UNDER THE CUT:
Passing the Bechdel:
Though Nebula and Gamora trade a couple of lines on a few occasions, they invariably speak about either Thanos, or Ronan. 
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Female characters:
Meredith Quill.
Bereet.
Nebula.
Gamora.
Carina.
Nova Prime.
Male characters:
Mr Quill.
Peter Quill.
Yondu Udonta.
Ronan.
Korath.
Rocket.
Groot.
The Broker.
Drax.
Thanos.
The Collector.
Denarian Saal.
Denarian Dey.
OTHER NOTES:
Seatbelts on spaceships should really be mandatory.
Aahahahaha Peter has a woman on his ship whose name he can’t remember and whom he forgot was even there! Oh, it’s so funny and charming! What a classic misogynistic cliche intro! Garbage.
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Rocket chastises Groot to ‘learn genders’, and I don’t think the irony of a raccoon (a species with almost no visually-evident sexual dimorphism) saying that to a tree-person (whose species - if sexually dimorphic at all - certainly has no reason to adhere to the humanoid/mammalian model) is deliberate. The other alien higher-life-forms they encounter in the film are pretty uniformly human in appearance (not much effort going on in the ‘alien’ department besides just painting people in bright colours), but lack of imagination from the creative team doesn’t mean that the binary gender system we’re accustomed to on Earth has any broad bearing on the galaxy at large. 
Aaahh, and now Peter is explaining his scars to Drax, with lovely stories of women he cheated on in the past because he’s ~such a stud~.
Thanos tells Ronan off for his dull political raging and whiny behaviour, but he’s sitting on a shiny floating throne himself, so I’m not sure he’s earned the right to criticise what other people have got going on.
Rocket suggests that Gamora trade sexual favours to get things from other prisoners, because we’re being Like That with this movie.
The Collector keeps female slave ‘assistants’, whom he evidently treats so nicely that Carina commits suicide by infinity stone at the first opportunity in order to escape him. We’re just doing so well for the ladies in this film.
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As a great comedic beat, Drax calls Gamora a “green whore”. It’s both a shitty line, and nonsensical, since Drax isn’t supposed to comprehend metaphors and he has no reason to believe Gamora is a literal ‘whore’ (nor is he likely to use such a colloquial term, considering the calibre of his standard vocabulary). Basically, it’s a rubbish line from every angle, and all in service of a misogynistic joke. 
This film is a terrible waste of Djimon Hounsou.
Ronan is very theatrically over-the-top in his pronouncements, but Lee Pace does his damnedest to make it work on delivery.
Why does Ronan’s flashy purple infinity stone weapon not kill people when he shoots them with its energy blast? Obviously it would be terribly inconvenient to the story if he just casually killed all the good guys, but honestly. It doesn’t make much sense. They coulda at least pretended there was a reason.
The part of me that is susceptible to acts of heroism is affected by the guardians all joining hands to share the stone’s power. Not enough to feel that the film or the character relationships actually connected on an emotional level, but enough that this ending doesn’t feel totally unearned.
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Drax patting Rocket’s head while he’s crying over Groot is a lovely touch. THAT is the strongest character interaction of the film.
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So. I’ll be honest: I don’t like this movie. I don’t think it works. I think it’s essentially just a string of gimmicks, loosely attached, entertaining enough on the surface but with no meaningful depth to hold in the mind or keep the audience engaged once the credits kick in (it’s also much heavier on the sexist tropes than any other MCU film previous). I don’t hate it, but it doesn’t give me anything that I value in a viewing experience, it just happens and then ends and that’s it. And the reason it doesn’t work is, frankly, the writing is lazy as shit. It makes a sub-par effort at establishing character and thus relies heavily on cliches, it rarely bothers to incorporate relevant plot and motivations and such into the story at early points in order to generate narrative pay-off, and the world-building is hazy at best and, like the characterisation, trades predominantly on expectation of stereotypes rather than actually creating anything original.
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Let’s start in the obvious place: with our lead character. I’m tempted to just say ‘Peter Quill is garbage’ and then move on, because it’s true and also, he’s just not complex or interesting at all, which is ridiculous because he’s got that whole ‘alien abduction’ origin story and there should be like, literally any layers at all to his story instead of him just being an obnoxious Lothario who makes pop culture references like that counts as having a personality. But, here we are. I’m not familiar with the comics so I don’t know if this is a common complaint from fans who can’t believe their boy got all his nuances deleted in favour of such an inane cliche, but if this is exactly what Quill is like in the comics too? That’s no excuse. Part of the magic of adaptation is the opportunity to improve upon things the source material did wrongly or badly. The Quill we’ve got here in this movie is such a bland template he’s almost functionally useless; he barely impacts the story at all, especially in any way that is relevant to his personality or skills and necessitates his presence (the dance-off distraction is the only good Quill moment, and it’s also one of the few inspired choices in the whole film). At the end of the day, Quill exists so that the story has a Main Guy, being a straight white American male (and making sure we all, excessively, know about it), because God forbid we be expected to identify with anyone else. I have heard people sing the praises of the film for ‘subverting cliche’ by not having Quill and Gamora actively hook up by the end, as if that somehow makes it better that every single other aspect of that tedious forced romance plot is still squarely in place and set to play out in future films (pro tip: if the main guy still ‘gets the girl’, only it doesn’t happen in the first film, that’s not subversive. That’s still playing the trope dead-straight). Quill not immediately being shown to be rewarded with sex is not some incredible feat of original storytelling, and it certainly doesn’t absolve him of being a dime-a-dozen pig of a character. If that’s the most ‘unexpected’ character element you can cite, you’re in dire straits. 
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Now, I’m not gonna talk about every character individually, because in most cases there’s not much to talk about; Drax is the big warrior guy with the Fridged Family backstory we’ve seen so many times before it elicits zero (0) emotions now; Groot - though an interesting idea on paper - is basically just a Deus Ex Machina of whatever ability is most useful at any given moment, too ill-defined to have boundaries to his powers and conveniently not using his full potential whenever it would allow the characters to win too easily; and Rocket, well, Rocket is actually the only one of the leads who manages any meaningful nuance, which is unfortunate because most of the time he’s just used for sarcastic comic relief. The other character I am going to talk about is Gamora, and it’s because she’s a prime example of how this movie fails to establish things so that they feel like they actually matter or the character’s motivations are understandable, etc. We are introduced to Gamora when she overrides Ronan’s order for Nebula to retrieve the orb from Xandar; as it turns out, Gamora’s introductory moment (literally the first time we see her or hear her speak) is also her act of rebellion when she puts into action her plan to escape Thanos’ clutches and go her own way. The problem, obviously, is this is her introduction. We’ve never seen this character before, we’ve only just met Ronan and Nebula as well, Thanos is barely more than a concept, as is the planet Xandar and the politics around it. Nothing has been established yet about the life that Gamora occupies, so her ploy to escape it? Meaningless. We don’t even find out that Gamora was not planning to retrieve the orb for Ronan until she tells us so after she’s been arrested, and we have literally no reason to believe her because we don’t know her yet because her character has not been established at all. The traditional way to do this would be to show her in her old life, doing as she’s told and/or witnessing terrible things being done by her compatriots, and showing the audience that she has clear misgivings so that when she turns, we understand the context and can believe that’s a logical character decision based on established personality and morals (think of Finn’s introduction in The Force Awakens for a textbook example). Because no time or effort is ever invested in establishing who or how Gamora is, everything we know is delivered to us directly in dialogue, all tell, no show, and what could easily have been the film’s most dynamic character is instead hampered by having her development choked off to avoid spending time on letting her origins matter (despite the fact that those origins are essential to the plot).
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On which note, lets talk bad guys. Thanos first, because there’s not much to say, and that’s not a good thing: Thanos is actually pointless to this film, the only reason he’s there is so that the MCU can use him to actual purpose in later films and his relation to Gamora and Nebula and the hunt for the Infinity Stones needs to be established first, but as with everything else this movie is terrible at establishing things effectively. Consequently, Thanos...just floats around on a chair, and then Ronan tells him to piss off and we don’t see or hear from him again in the rest of the film, and there’s no real effort made to integrate Thanos into the story so that he seems like anything other than a dead-end subplot cluttering up the movie for no reason. The closest Thanos gets to anything notable is when he chides Ronan for his boring politics, but even that is symptomatic of the wider problem with this movie’s lazy writing: Ronan’s whole character is essentially just another dull archetype - in this case, the extremist villain - and a solid nothing at all is done to establish his politics or what they mean, other than death for the people we’re told are the innocents. This is a problem with the world-building of the film as a whole, because none of the galaxy’s politics is fleshed out, there’s no context to why the Kree have a problem with Xandar or why we should care, and Xandar kinda gets treated like the centre of the universe but it also seems that’s just for convenience sake so that the plot can return to a previous location for the final act. Hell, I haven’t the faintest fucking idea where Earth is supposed to fit in to all of this, other characters talk about it so it’s clearly a known quantity to the rest of the galaxy, and yet no one knows any details about it and Quill never bothered to go back there for reasons which really SHOULD be explored and yet are not even mentioned (that would seem like some of that characterisation he doesn’t have), so I don’t know what we’re supposed to interpret from that. I’m not confident that the creative powers bothered to think about it, considering how much they didn’t think about anything else. This is a movie where ‘human, but painted’ passes for ‘alien’ and society apparently functions exactly like Earth, tedious misogyny and all, despite the absence of cultural sharing to explain the Earthlike similarities (and boy oh boy do I HATE the laziness of science fiction where everything being identical to Western culture on Earth is treated like it’s ‘just the natural order’ that should be expected to develop in any sentient species, instead of a complex system shaped by unique and varied influences over thousands of years and dependent upon environment, religion, philosophy, and a myriad of other factors not replicated in these poorly-drawn ‘alien’ cultures. I get that you’ve gotta employ at least some shorthand in order to get on and tell your story within time constraints, but come on. If you’re not gonna think about world-building at all, don’t set the story on an alien planet). Above all else, we know that Ronan is the villain because he’s painted (literally) as one; he’s the bad guy through visually-indicated othering, because we all know good guys don’t look like that (whereas most of Ronan’s enemies on Xandar are just regular-looking white folks. Curious...). Sure, Ronan is also introduced spouting rhetoric and then smashing a dude with a hammer, and that seems like villain behaviour, but that only reinforces the point: Ronan’s role is made unmistakable through age-old tropes, and it’s never explored or subverted or made dynamic from there. Like Quill as the ‘hero’, Ronan is a dime-a-dozen cliche.
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So anyway. Lets talk plot. This one goes like so: Quill collects the orb from Morag, where he coincidentally runs into Korath and company who just-so-happen to be after the orb at the same time (how it is that multiple interested parties only just found out that one of the most powerful destructive forces in the universe is just chillin’ on this abandoned planet, they don’t bother to explain). Quill runs into both Gamora, and Rocket and Groot, the other parties happening to be after him for different reasons and coincidentally converging on Xandar at the same point. Everyone gets arrested and sent to prison, where they meet Drax and promptly escape and fly to Knowhere so that The Collector can exposition-dump about Infinity Stones. Drax calls Ronan up, just literally straight-up calls the bad guy to come and find them because I guess figuring out a normal plot reason for the villain to catch up with the good guys was too hard, so we had to go for extreme stupidity instead. Ronan gets the orb and goes back to Xandar to destroy it, and our main characters figure they should stop that, so they do. Roll credits. Now, you can make pretty much any story sound basic and stupid by breaking it down into its component pieces, but the important thing to note about this layout is how many convenient or just plain stupid aspects there are. There are almost no character meetings or story developments that come about logically through the sensible development of plot driven by character’s motivations springing from established narrative, etc, and part of that problem is absolutely because there’s so little established character/world-building to begin with, but it’s also because whatever there is tends to apparate when it is needed without any sign of existing beforehand; that is, very little of the story is seeded early on so that it can come to fruition later in a narratively satisfying fashion. The Nova Corps sentence the characters to the Kyln prison as if it’s a big scary concept, but we’ve never heard of it before so we have no reason to consider it trouble. Drax appears and other characters literally tell us why we should pay attention to him, instead of him being, say, pre-established (SUCH AS by having his family tragedy shown on screen as a dual-establishing event for him and Ronan, or something to which Gamora was privy in some way in order to intro her misgivings as discussed above, or even just having someone reference the legend of Drax the Destroyer BEFORE getting to the Kyln (you could also, y’know, establish the Kyln itself in talking about how Drax was sent there. Just saying)). Intro the idea of Knowhere and/or The Collector BEFORE heading there so that it’s less convenient for Gamora to just-happen to have a buyer already set up for the item we didn’t even know she had planned to steal as part of the escape plot we didn’t know she was hatching. For the love of everything, establish some actual REASON for Ronan to follow our characters to Knowhere, instead of just ‘Drax got drunk and called him’. Link the pieces of your story together with concepts and developments that build upon each other in a narrative progression. That’s the difference between having a plot, and having a string of chronological set pieces (some of which - like Morag and the Kyln - don’t even have a purpose anyway beyond providing some action-scene opportunities). 
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Before I close this out, I just want to run through a little exercise to demonstrate something that you never, ever want to happen in a story. You never want to have a lead character who can be deleted from the plot without leaving a hole too big to be easily filled by the rest of the cast. But what happens if Peter Quill is removed from this story? Well, pretty much all of the misogyny disappears, so that’s a plus. Someone else is gonna have to retrieve the orb from Morag, but we could easily send Rocket and Groot to do that. Gamora can still fight with them on Xandar exactly as it happens in the actual movie, only this time it’s not just pure coincidence that they conflict. We saved vital time that the film spent on Quill’s inconsequential childhood abduction (and we could save more on trimming the pointless action on Morag), which is time that could be better spent on all that other establishing crap I was talking about earlier, tightening up the narrative. Quill doesn’t serve any important purpose in the Kyln, so we can remove him from that no problem, nor does he matter on Knowhere other than a frankly stupid and ultimately pointless moment when he saves Gamora (definitely unnecessary when we’re removing the romantic subplot bullshit along with Quill). And then what? The characters agree that not letting Ronan destroy the galaxy is probably a good call (not Quill-relevant), they head back to Xandar, fight some bad guys, hold hands, win the day. We lose Quill’s only good moment in the form of the dance-off, but it’s an acceptable loss in order to strengthen the entire rest of the film by deleting the most meaningless character: the lead. We also arguably lose the Ravagers in the process, but as much fun as Yondu is, the plot can also survive completely intact without him (the only time the Ravagers matter is for the previously-identified useless damsel contrivance with Quill saving Gamora, and then they do help out on Xandar in the end, but they aren’t necessary for that - the Nova Corps could have been expanded just a smidge and taken care of everything). On the other hand, if you remove Gamora, you lose the connection to Ronan/Thanos as well as the moral compass of the Guardians; some other character would have to be significantly altered to fill the gap. You lose major Deus Ex Machina skills without Groot, and without Rocket someone else’s narrative has to change in order for Groot to have a buddy (plus you need a new mastermind for various plans, though that’s an easier hole to fill). You skip Drax and you do lose a major plot development in the form of him drunk-dialling Ronan, but admittedly that’s one of the worst things in this whole dumb waste of a movie, so maybe it’s not such a loss. You could ditch Drax. But, that’s not important, because Drax isn’t packaged as the leading man: Quill is. If you delete Drax, you don’t really streamline or improve the story (you could fix the one big flaw in his character very easily, he doesn’t have to disappear for that). You delete Quill...I know, comic book adaptation, dropping the main character is not considered an acceptable alteration when you’re improving the story for the screen. But come on. The least they could do is make him actually matter, not just be a perfunctory inclusion for the sake of sticking this ‘weird sci-fi’ as firmly in the centre of over-done cliche as a lazy gimmick story ever could be. There are a few chuckles to be had with this film, and it’s not entirely boring, but it’s not half as endearing nor even an eighth as inspired as it thinks it is. I’m not impressed by any of it.
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gingerandwry · 5 years
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Memphis, Tennessee
My first night in Memphis I settled into my AirBnB-- a large ground floor of a duplex decked out in music-related imagery, furniture and knick-knacks-- then drove downtown for a late dinner at Belle Tavern, a newish upscale Southern restaurant and bar. The restaurant was closed (which saved me some money) so I ate off the bar menu and chatted with the friendly staff. That night I enjoyed the biggest, longest thunderstorm I’ve ever witnessed-- from the comfort of my bed.
On my last visit to Memphis I did most of the interesting things here so I decided to use this time to catch up on this blog, The Economist, my Portuguese lessons, travel planning and exercise. On my first day I finally left at 1pm and headed to Gus’s for their world-famous friend chicken. It does not disappoint. Then I headed to the National Civil Rights Museum which I had been sad to miss last time.
It’s housed in the former Lorraine Motel, where Dr. King was shot. When it opened in 1991 it was the country’s first civil rights museum (and it’s affiliated with the Smithsonian, which is how it became “National”). The museums I had just seen in Birmingham and Jackson are considerably newer and are in states that witnessed a lot more action in the struggle. (Tennessee was also a Jim Crow state but its racists were apparently less murderous.) The experience is heavy from the start. As you approach the highly recognizable motel, you see a wreath hanging on the balcony where Dr. King was felled. A plaque then directs your eyes to a run-down brick building across the street and the window in the former boarding house from which James Earl Ray fired the bullet (allegedly-- more on that later). After a deep breath, I entered the building.
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This museum stands out from the others I visited in two main ways. First its focus is national, not on a specific state. Second, it’s arranged not chronologically but episodically. So after introductory sections on slavery, Plessy and Jim Crow, each room tells the story of a notable episode during the struggle: Brown, Rosa Parks, Freedom Rides, Bombingham, lunch counter sit-ins, March on Washington, etc. At first I didn’t like this, as I thought, one, it would glamorize certain people and events while ignoring the “foot soldiers; and two, the historical timeline would become confused thus lessening the impact. The first concern was unfounded as the display were extremely detailed and thorough. And the non-sequential approach ends up also having merits; visitors can fully immerse themselves in the parts without getting lost trying to piece them together. The only problem is the crowds (which a sign in the lobby warned about). I ended up sandwiched between a tour group and a high school group and so scurried through some areas I would have liked to explore more. In part the museum design is to blame-- it’s confined to the original small structure of the Lorraine-- and in part it’s because addresses a popular, important subject, so the crowds are a good thing.
The museum also ends the story in a novel way. The passage of the Voting Rights Act is the first ending, but there are several codas. First, visitors enter the recreated rooms of the hotel where Dr. King was staying, and a window reveals the balcony as well as a view of the assassin’s building across the street. It’s very powerful. Following coverage of the immediate aftermath of his death, the displays then turn to the Black Power and Afro-centrism movements of the lates 1960s and early 70s, followed by the enduring legacy of the Civil Rights Movement. I think it’s inspired to point out that even tho the concept of Black Power doesn’t sit as comfortably with many whites as Dr. King’s non-violent resistance, it’s an equally important part of the same struggle. This museum also highlights throughout the many inequalities that blacks still face, such as the way most cities and schools are still segregated and the black political representation is still short of its potential.
And then things get really interesting... Across the street, in the boarding house where the assassin’s bullet came from, a newish wing examines the manhunt and trial that put Ray in jail (and displays the purported rifle). It then details the controversy that has surrounded the assassination ever since: the idea that Ray didn’t do it, that he didn’t do it alone and/or that he acted at someone else’s behest. Three separate commissions looked at the evidence, including the Justice Department and FBI in 1999 and 2000, and these displays very carefully and thoroughly present their findings. These investigations debunked some theories, but they raise A LOT of questions, and visitors are left to draw their own conclusions. Ultimately the more recent commissions decided Ray probably acted alone (tho they deemed a lot of witnesses, police and prosecutors unreliable) but he probably expected payment. From whom is unknown; the suspect list is quite long. It’s rare that a museum (especially a National one) would treat “conspiracy” theories so thoroughly and with such gravitas-- and not really try to dispel the conspiracy. Imagine the Kennedy Presidential Library doing that. I believe this reflexes the belief of some of the King family that Ray did not act alone and their attempt to uncover the truth.
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All that mystery made me hungry again so I ate at nearby Central BBQ which was obviously delicious. Then it was home for more catch up. For dinner I was craving something non-Southern so I went to Los Comelos. I thought it was a nice-ish Mexican restaurant, but it turns out to be a local family chain. Food was tasty enough tho. Then it was over to the Pumping Station for some drinks and conversation before bed.
On Thursday I woke up and headed to nearby Cooper-Young for breakfast. The neighborhood was not as happening as I thought it would be so I drove north up Cooper Street (Midtown’s main drag) to a good ol’ diner called Barksdale. After a cheap, basic, tasty breakfast, I continued north to the Overton Park neighborhood which was much more bustling than Cooper-Young. I drove in and around the park to peep some of the shmanciest homes in the city.
I then drove to Stax Museum of American Soul, the legendary studio that produced some of the biggest, best soul acts of the late 60s and early 70s. The 20 minute film that starts the tour really tells you everything you need to know, but the following displays go into much greater detail. I appreciated how they taught musical history, describing the sources of various influences like gospel, country and blues and how these all converged in Memphis. The museum also seeks to tell a broader story of black music, so it also features contemporaries and followers like Motown, Mussel Shoals, funk and disco and fairly give credit (and blame) where it’s due. The artifacts are numerous but not all that impressive-- mainly records and covers along with some clothes. (One big exception is Isaac Hayes’ gold trimmed, fur lined Cadillac with TV and fridge accompanied by a video of him describing how awesome it was.) The best part of course is the music and videos. The Stax story, like so many in the music industry, ends sadly and in bankruptcy. In fact it’s only in the fine print at the end that we learn the original building was torn down in the 80s and the current one is a recreation. That feels like kind of a gyp, but overall it’s a good experience and a good lesson in music history.
The rain returned that night so I just walked to the closet bar/restaurant, Young Avenue Deli. Seemed like a fun place (with a stage!). As I was leaving, trivia night was beginning. The first question was “What two countries share land borders with Sweden?” Is that what passes for trivia in Memphis?! On the way home I stopped for beer at the very friendly Hammer & Ale bar/store.
The next morning I set out for Nashville. I had planned to take the Natchez Trace Parkway most of the way since it’s a lovely, historic road. But it was raining across the entire state so I opted for the I-40 straight shot. Driving for three hours in rain was hellish, and the road was surprisingly crowded and torn up and the drivers pretty incompetent and/or inconsiderate (especially the truckers). But the scenery was pretty, especially the second half. I must have passed at least 20 state parks full of fall-colored forests, as well as some lovely water ways and charming farm houses. It almost made of for the misery of the drive.
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bites-kms · 5 years
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Keep Austin Weird
Austin is a very special place. It really craved a big chunk of my heart. A merge of NY feeling, with Seattle memories and it’s Texan uniqueness. And of course, as always, this fondness relies on its people. Misfits, rebels, crazy, artists, and all that people that in other corners of traditional Texas may be judged, end up in Austin. And you are welcome too if you want to join! Attending to SXSW made it even more special, with all these creative souls walking around, exchanging smiles, ideas, words and emails. It was fantastic. I felt super inspired, grateful and for a moment, I felt like I belong to this crowd too. 
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From Piano battles to standup comedy, there are a bunch of things I left undone due to the cluttered and intensity of the itinerary demanded by SXSW. But, very vaguely, but with much love, these are my top 10 things to do in Austin:
1) Shake it off at the The Broken Spoke 
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Bring it on with the honky-tong. Feels like being part of a movie. After a long ride from Downtown Austin, one needs to cross the bridge before arriving to here, the middle of nowhere yet marvelous place. Don’t forget to bring cash with you for the entry fee. Grab your favorite local, or better yet, make yourself available for the nice and gentle Texan to approach you. In my case, Christian, an insurance runner with a farm and bird passion, taught me all the steps and secrets from the dance floor. It was great. Not only he knew about Uruguay, but he practiced his Spanish, patiently taught me all the movements of the local dance, and even invited me not only a drink which I gently declined, but a follow up lunch date. It’s ridiculous how talented Texan people are -  they have their music ingrained in their voices, bodies and minds. Christian was no exception. He sent me videos of him singing before our date to nail the deal. Wise move, amigo ;) We went on Quaresma Friday for some BBQ and he refrained himself from eating meat - of course I completely forgot and made an exception, indulging myself with all the delicious Brisket. And, thank you Lari for the boots, they made all the difference and made me a real Dancing Queen. #SisterhoodOfTheTravellingBoots <3
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Yeap - I dressed up for the occasion, never felt prouder of myself! For a second or two, Christian really thought I was a local!
2) Wonder, enjoy and have fun by Sixth Street. 
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This is Austin’s main street. Full of bars, antique stores, delis, souvenir shops, cafes, and more and even more bars, this is the place to be. Avoid staying on the street itself, but if your hotel is near by -which probably will be- this fun impromptu venue won’t disappoint. Its streets intersections all surround the Austin Convention Center and most of the main concert venues, cool cafes, fun dancing spots and delightful dinner restaurants will be around. Wonder Six Street and let it marvel you. It will be the best souvenir you’ll be able to take from Austin.
3) Go for hidden drinks at The Garage 
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Ladies night was Garage night! What a great finding. Wondering Austin streets, there’s a modern parking space that looks oddly beautiful for being just a mere parking lot. Doubt about it. Go inside and go figure, there’s a hidden bar between their spaces, with the perfect ambience, the necessary small bites and the delicious tailored made drinks for a fun evening with friends or a casual date. 
4) Experience the beauty of the 7th fine art at Stateside Theater, Alamo Lamar and Paramount Theater 
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How crazy it is to take one of those electric scooters and go across town with highways and bridges to watch a movie almost at midnight? Let me tell you, it takes some guts. Yet, I decided to go to watch the music short film festival and check out the Alamo. The proper name is “Alamo Drafthouse Cinema South Lamar”. It’s a unique concept where food and drinks are served within the venue while you watch your movie. Very similar to Nitehawk cinemas in New York, although this one was massive - hence, a little bit more ruined down. Also, it’s hard to keep up with the cleaning of the venues within SXSW, but yet it was a wonderful eve. Watching This is America by Childish Gambino in full screen as well as Boyish by Japanese Breakfast among others was amazing. And afterwards, there was a live performance of jazz, honky-dong and be-bop on the draft house next to it. Unfortunately, I already ordered the UBER and there were not so many around, so I enjoyed it for a few while waiting for it, and then left my scooter and went back to civilization to the Line Hotel, a beautiful boutique one where I was staying. I also had the opportunity to check out the Stateside and the Paramount Theater, both of them located at Congress Avenue, where many 2019 SXSW premiers were held, such as Us and Booksmart - which I ended up watching in Nitehawk with Caro later in June. I attended to these two venues for Come as You Are, great story in which three disabled men go on a road trip to lose their virginity at a special-needs bordello in this ingratiating remake of a Belgian film and Bluebird, a documentary about one of Nashville’s most celebrated and important venues, which has been a launching pad for new songwriters since 1982 - Including Taylor Swift! 
6) Go to Antone’s for a real music treat
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Wow... I mean.... just wow! Was this magical or what? Thank you Z for dragging me to this venue and make me wait more than 2 hours with random yet cool artists to finally get to known and be mesmerized by Saint Paul and the Broken Bones. From 8 ‘till midnight, people were delighted by DJ Manny, Tameca Jones, Jacob Banks to finally end up with the high note of St. Paul. It was incredible. This powerhouse band made the roof came down in an intense, intimate yet powerful performance. The vocal lead Paul Janeway was absolutely incredible. With glitter and shinny dress-like outfit, he owned the stage from begging to end, specially while walking through the crowd, making it to the bar and singing on top of it, Coyote Ugly style. With his unique style and even rarest voice, this has been one of the most memorable concert experiences I ever had. As my friend Z would describe it: “When I tell you to wait, is because something worthwhile is coming. It’s a big dude, that sounds like a black woman’s voice, who belongs to a gospel choir”. - He was absolutely right..  SXSW Music Festival is really something out-of-this-word. To mention a few, imagine Tiny Desk Concerts held in a church, to Dj Windows 95 in Mercedes Benz Openhouse or Japanese Breakfast at the Mohawk, another iconic Austin Venue. Yet, the surprise happened during Sounds from Colombia night at Speakeasy, with Mojarra Eléctrica and Los Gaiteros de Ovejas when I met Idahosa Ness- which means, “he who only listens to God”. Nope, it was not a Colombian artist yet he lived in Colombia. He is this brilliant man from Austin which spoke more than 5 languages and learnt all of them through music and rap, decided to share his gift with the world by creating language learning tools in a start-up mode, traveling the world and enlightening each person that crosses his path in between. Yes, that’s the people you meet in the crowd. That’s the people you randomly run into SXSW. You can check out his project here, in The Mimic Method. Did I mention that he has a fantastic speech grandiloquence, and he looks like Lenny Kravitz (meaning he is damn hot!)?? Wow...I definitely won the jack pot that night! Thank you SXSW! Music does bring people together!
7) Feast yourself and treat your belly with a real Texas BBQ at Cooper Old Time Pit Bar-B-Que and Stubbs BBQ 
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This indulgence was also fantastically yummy. With Brazilian friends on with a local date, Texas BBQ never goes out of style. I had the chance to try it twice, both in unique and renown locations. I didn’t make it to Franklin, which is suppose to be the most famous one, with queue and waiting hours outside included, under the tremendous heat or the pouring rain. Also, it is located further away, closer to the airport, so there was zero chance I would made it in the electric scooters over there. But, to be fair, Cooper and Stubbs were outstanding and I think I did have my authentic experience regardless. 
8) Attend to SXSW
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I mean, what else can I say? I think it’s self introductory but in case your Tupperware is way too sealed, this is THE event that you should attend to (on top of Austin City Limits Festival, which is only reserved for music performances) “It’s an annual conglomerate of film, interactive media, and music festivals and conferences that take place in mid-March in Austin, Texas, United States. It began in 1987 and has continued to grow in both scope and size every year”. Wake up early, stay up late. Dont forget about the music. Chose your venues and talks wisely. Download the SXSW app and pre-book your favorite talk with a day in advance And also, very mucho important, book some time to mingle and relax. The conferences are awesome but so do the exhibits, the films, the pop ups, the branded experiences but mostly the people.
9) Visit some historical sites
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From old Austin Congress, to fun and corky hotel venues (which happens to have a really cool pool, BTW) to wonder around beyond the highway, Austin has always a hidden, usually fun and weird surprise waiting for you. Don’t be afraid to explore - although keep the discovery during daytime!
10) HAVE FREAKING FUN!
This is almost another one for granted. Almost about everything you do in Austin will be fun, weird, memorable and ex(h)austin. And, if you are lucky enough, the activities you do will be all of these at the same time. Dont forget to check out the Vietnamese Elizabeth Cafe for a beautiful and delicious dinner, drop by The Mohawk, another iconic music venue where I had the chance to listen to Japanese Breakfast for the second time this year (and I could just keep going!), get your morning joe at the Royal Blue Grocery as well as the cutest Frida Kahlo earrings and don’t doubt to try the local breakfast freshly made, squeezed and prepared at Easy Tiger Cafe, which is as good as in it’s Beer Garden and Brewery after hours hours option. Cheers Austin! You’ve officially become one of my favorite places in the US <3
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justhereforseverus · 4 years
Text
A rose by any other name would smell as sweet
Chapter 4: All the World’s a Stage
Summary:
After an surprising visitor during your drama club session, you finally get to pick up your sleeping potion. And oh boy, did you get more than anticipated. The potion master is one for surprises. (Seriously I can't write summaries)
Notes:
Bit of a delay here because life and stuff but I’m very eager to continue. The perfume described here is basically Tom Ford’s “Santal Blush” which is one of my most favourite fragrances I will never be able to afford. Thanks to Taylor Swift (love you!) for bringing it into my life and making me aware of how broke I am. Regarding the whole story...frankly, I have no idea what I’m doing here. Any commentary is welcome. But now without further ado chapter 4!
However, there was my drama club session before I could dedicate myself to my hopefully peaceful potion-induced sleep. I transformed my classroom into an adequate rehearsal room with a bigger-on-the-inside costume closet, a music box, and, of course, a small stage. I also put two rows of chairs in front of it just to set the mood. This was a more sophisticated set up than my introductory session where we only discussed what we expected and what work we would choose to perform. I asked all my students to read the play before tonight, so everyone has an idea who they want to play or what function they want to take over (lightening, sound, costumes etc). Well, that worked…. More or less well. The muggle or half-born born students already knew the play or were familiarised with it through film-and cartoon adaptions. Thus they were able to suspend their disbelief enough to know what to do. The few wizards and witches without that background had more problems with it. “The language is worse than in our History of Magic book!” “Will we also have to hurt and kill ourselves on stage?” “Hamlet could’ve just taken the throne by using a spell. Why make it so complicated?” When did Hamlet live? Can’t we just ask his ghost to tell us his history?” - were just some of the questions and comments. All valid but still. After setting straight that - no, no one will have to go on a murder spree and no Hamlet’s ghost is not currently available to chat to – we tried to get into the acting by choosing one scene and act it out in groups. I also chose some third year Huffelpuff and Gryffindor students who were good  in charms to take care of setting the atmosphere by making the room a bit colder and creating some snow clouds. In the end, this is one big advantage of the wizard world. No need for bad-smelling fake blood and chemical snow. Unfortunately, I also had to ensure that only the drama club members got in. I put a spell on the door that allowed only registered students and staff to enter. This was a precaution, as I received some rather unfriendly and mocking letters in my pidgeon hole the other day. Nothing too threatening but certainly bullying in nature. I don’t want my students to be mocked publically and Dumbledore agreed to it. Though Hogwarts doesn’t seem to care too much about that when it comes to Quidditch. Here the competing teams frequently join other trainings and bully them openly. I’m not too keen on that but maybe that’s just something I don’t understand about sports.
Everyone was busy pretending to be guards in the bitter cold (with real 100% magically produced snow). I looked around and noticed someone watching us. A tall, brooding man stood in the back of the room learning towards the wall with crossed arms – Professor Severus Snape. As usual, he wore a a buttoned up jacket, some straight cut black trousers and a long, heavy cloak. He is a skinny but muscular type, at least what his way too tight jacket reveals. He clearly doesn't need to hide anything. I can only imagine that his choice to wear the heaviest and thickest clothing one can wear should accentuate his role as the teacher that can silence a hall with only a whisper. Or maybe it’s just always horribly cold in the dungeon and it's more of a practical nature. He looked at me closely with his mysterious black eyes and gaunt but elegant face. I wondered how he got in without being noticed by anyone. On the other hand, he was famous for sneaking up on students wandering around after curfew. I made my way up to him with a bit more jest and bravery than I probably should have felt. In the end I was at my safe place, my classroom and he was the intruder. Thus I said:  “Look at that. The Potion Master sneaked into my small empire of drama. I’m honoured – how can I help you, Professor?” He replied: “I thought it might be entertaining to see students pretend they’re a tree. – he looked at one group at the front who overdid the ’tis bitter cold’ scene with excessive trembling. More like they’re on a rollercoaster and not like a real person freezing –“However, I see they rather guard hallways pretending to be cooking blenders. Still it’s a treat to watch them without having to scold anyone myself.” – before I could comment on that he continued: “However, I came to tell you that your sleeping potion is ready to use. Please see me in my office after your class to pick it up.” And with that he left the room with his infamous swoosh of his long, black cloak. That man needs to learn how to end a conversation properly. Unless, he does all this on purpose.
After class, I put my stuff back to my room in the Ravenclaw tower and made my way down to the dungeon. I knocked on the door and got called inside. Before I can walk to his desk, Severus stands up, goes to one of the shelves behind him and picks up a bottle. Then he rushed to me and steps up very close, while holding a bottle with purple liquid in front of my face. This is without doubt an invasion of my personal space, but I must admit I don’t mind. His face is only inches away from mine and his eyes are hidden by the bottle in my sight. He smells like sandalwood, cinnamon and ylang ylang? I wonder what perfume he uses. While dangling the bottle teasingly in front of my face instead of handing it me directly he exclaims: “This is a bottle that will refill three times. I won’t give out sleeping potions to get addicted to. So… Make. This. Count. This is my personal recipe, so you won’t find it in a book. You wake up in 6 hours later and it induces an especially deep and regenerative sleep.” And with the last word he hands me the bottle. I take it and read the handwritten label on it with further instructions. He says while walking back to his desk: “If you need a refill. Talk to me and I’ll decide if I brew you another.” I took another closer look at the bottle and then said: “Your own personal recipe? Does that mean you sometimes need a sleeping potion, too? Or was it just an experiment?” Now seated behind his desk he replied dismissingly: “It wouldn’t be a very worthwhile experiment. Creating a sleeping potion is more like elementary school chemistry. However, the standard versions are dreadful in its execution. If I need one, then I’d rather sleep without waking up feeling like I’ve just been driven over by a horse carriage.” With this he takes up his quill and continues grading essays. Maybe I should just say goodbye and leave him in peace, but I won’t let him get off that easily. I’m intrigued and I can still smell his perfume..
I sit in the chair in front of his desk and exlaimed with a sigh: “That’s quite... ingenious still. I wish I could refine medicine that easily. It would also help me with my play. I never use effect-potions because I don’t feel safe using them on students and I lack the knowledge of brewing refined versions like in London. However, I guess this is on me. My potions grades have been acceptable, but I always felt too stupid to master them properly. Not that this is an excuse.” He looked up and seemed to observe me for some moments. Shit.. maybe that wasn't a very favourable thing for me to say. Now he dislikes me because a) I just confessed I suck at potion-making and b) I haven't left his office ten minutes ago when I probably should have. Before I could stutter an apology, he says: “Well, there must be a reason why I’m the potion master and not you. – here he dramatically paused for some seconds. His attention for drama is truly admiring – “Yet…don’t tell this to any of my students but no one is too stupid to make a potion and receive good grades. I sincerely believe that. However, it can be a mixture of laziness, an insufferable attitude or the wrong teacher at the wrong moment in time. If you had acceptable grades that means you’re capable and from what I’ve seen I don’t think you’re too stupid.” I looked in disbelief. I don’t really need that kind of pep talk but it’s nice to hear that from someone I clearly didn’t expected it from. He put his quill away, folded his hands and continued: “I can show you how to brew any potion you might need. However, I then expect only the utmost of concentration and motivation in that regard. In return. I might be more patient to you then to any of my students.” When that offer finally has set into my mind I stuttered: “That would be.. that would be wonderful! It would strongly improve my stage set and performance! Thank you so much!... but… - and here the doubt came that he only does it to mock me- “why help me? We’ve barely known each other, and you've already brewed the sleeping potion for me. Can I do something for you in return or do you simply want to make fun of me?” He looked away from me and replied “You don’t need to do that and no I don't want to mock you. Also, wait before you thank me - I can’t guarantee you’ll be successful in brewing those. In the end, I’d be a terrible potion master if I didn’t help my colleagues – independent of sympathy or duration of acquaintance.” Ok, that’s a bit of a bummer. So, he feels only obligated because I’m a colleague. However, If that means I can spend more time with him and I can get better at potions... What do I have to lose?
Yet, he wasn’t finished with his speech. He looked away from me on a bookshelf to his right and continued. “Regardless of this, I also must admit that I rather welcome a professor of the literary arts at this school. Especially one who seems to be competent enough to fight the prejudices of elite wizards. We can learn from fiction and it would certainly benefit many students here to take this seriously.” “Oh” I replied like a true master of the arts. “I mean, that’s great. I agree wholeheartedly. It’s just a rare disposition. Especially for the headteacher of the Slytherin house, which.. no offense.. is significantly underrepresented in my classes.” “None taken” – he replied. “I don’t have much influence when it comes to subject choices of my students. And despite my favourable judgements towards my house I hate them all equally unless proven by them otherwise. Yet, the house cup is a competition and I intend to keep winning.” - he said with a slight smile on his face. Ok, I hate him for that attitude (because I’m not very competitive in nature), but I have to admit the smile is kinda cute and I hate myself for thinking that. He’s kind of asshole but I’m so intrigued by this dramatic, elegant guy that I willingly overlook his actual image and reputation here. When he took up his quill again I stood up and said “Well, then I don’t want to hinder you from work any more than I've done. Thank you so much for the potion and... everything. Have a good night!” He nodded said: “Give me some feedback if the potion works for you, I can make some adjustments if needed. Good Night then.”
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lifeonashelf · 5 years
Text
CINDERELLA
It is one a.m. A massive explosion has just ignited mere yards from my apartment. Thunderous, powerful, disturbing. The sonic shockwave of the blast pierces my ears, rattles my windows, makes my balcony physically shudder beneath my feet. Off in the distance, I hear a cannonade, seemingly endless sonorous reports at various sites on the horizon. Mingling with these, there is also an inharmonious descant of smaller discharges, sustained staccato pops that ring out in the night like the deadly buzzing of machine guns. The sky is full of shrapnel that has been launched into the air, and my rudimentary understanding of physics tells me that what goes up must surely come down somewhere. I am not a praying man, but I nevertheless conjure a silent thought in my head and do my best to beam it into the universe, hoping that none of this fiery flak touches down on my roof to trigger a conflagration. Long moments pass and the discordant, jarring cacophony does not abate—more explosions, more gunfire salvos. Another hugely loud boom rings out, this one the closest yet, so close that I can see the light of its discharge dancing on the side of the building across from mine. It sounds as if I am sitting in the epicenter of a warzone. It sounds like a nightmare. It sounds like the end of the fucking world.
It’s not the end of the world, though. It is the 4th Of July. Which naturally means that all throughout my neighborhood, packs of heavily-intoxicated alpha males are “celebrating” how awesome our country is, in the most traditionally American way possible: by detonating a shitload of cheap and dangerous explosives made in Mexico.
And that’s not even the ironic part. The really ironic part is that these discourteous douchebags are commemorating the day our ancestors declared independence from a tyrannical king and the imposition of Christian doctrine, in 2018—a year in which we are presently ruled by a tyrant who is actively striving to expunge every safeguard that will prohibit him from occupying his dominion for life, and a cadre of puritanical legislators who are actively rewriting our laws in accordance with their selective interpretations of Christian doctrine.
Of course, like our forefathers, we are taking bold and decisive action against despotism. We’re posting memes on Facebook like crazy, for one, a strategy which I imagine will eventually get a whole lot of stuff accomplished. We’re also rising up and marching, showing solidarity, letting our fascist-in-chief know we won’t stand idle while women and people of color are being treated as marginal citizens and children who come to this country seeking asylum are being detained in concentration camps. And since July 4 is the linchpin of our freedom, the one day which all of us have agreed upon as an occasion to unite as a nation and show the world, and each other, what America really stands for… Well, it stands to reason that in this critical annum of 2018, while our noble democratic experiment is enmeshed in the most dire jeopardy it has ever faced, we are presented with a golden opportunity to make our grandest statement yet, to stand in defiance of the current status quo and announce to those who seek to subjugate us that we are not credulous automatons who will simply lay down and allow ourselves to be crushed under the wheels of the machine. This year, truly—as Bill Pullman said in that movie where Will Smith and Jeff Goldblum beat up a bunch of aliens—we celebrate our Independence Day…
Nah, not so much. We were too busy attending barbecues and having parades and drinking beer and blowing shit up today. But in our defense—from the sound of things outside my apartment—we bought waaaaaaaaay more Mexican-made explosives than ever this year.  
This is ‘Murica. And right now, America sucks.
Given the statements I made in my introductory paragraphs, it probably won’t surprise you that I’m not particularly fond of fireworks. And given the statement that comprised the last paragraph, it probably won’t surprise you that I’m not particularly fond of America these days, either. (I do love that the principles of this land still allow me the freedom to type the words “America sucks”—although, if the bridge-troll in charge at the moment has anything to say about it, that probably won’t be the case for long). There are those who will read my proclamation and issue some sort of gut-check response like, “if you don’t love America, then git the hell out.” To which I say: 1) fuck you, because that brand of idiotic nationalistic rhetoric is precisely why we’re in this mess to begin with, and 2) if you honestly can’t comprehend how someone who has lived in this country for the past forty years could find so much to loathe about its contemporary state of affairs that they would profess to loathe the nation’s prevailing identity as a whole, then I would strongly recommend opening your eyes to what’s crashing down around you because your willful ignorance of just how fucked this place is right now is a far bigger concern than anything I could possibly write.
Then I would ask you a question: Why are you still so stoked about America? Okay, two questions: Is your ardor based on any measured assessment of what this country stands for now, or are you simply rah-rah-ing the home-team? Most of my educated acquaintances would likely answer with some variation of the standard “it may not be perfect, but it’s still the best nation in the world” reply. Which is a perfectly acceptable response… Except it’s simply not fucking true. Because America is not the best at anything anymore. We lead the globe in mass shootings and shitty hip-hop artists with face tattoos, and that’s about it.
So under what criteria is America “the best”? I’m not posing that question in the spirit of communism, I’m posing it in the spirit of pragmatism. Because, lord knows, I DON’T WANT TO FEEL THIS WAY. But it’s goddamn difficult not to when every single day I see more and more increasingly abhorrent events unfolding on the news, I see a vile cackling shithead mocking all of us from his ivory throne while he assaults every trace of common decency we had left just like he has assaulted women his entire life, and I don’t see a single ray of light on the horizon. My heart isn’t broken, it hasn’t stopped beating, it has simply filled to the brim with disgust—viscous, black, oozing, poisonous disgust. And I am drowning in it. I am disgusted by Donald Trump. I am disgusted by every single person who voted for Donald Trump. I am disgusted by every single corrupt sycophant in his party who facilitates his evil machinations. I am disgusted by every single person I see wearing t-shirts with images of AR-15’s emblazoned on them. I am disgusted by every single asshole who is still exploding M-100’s in my neighborhood even though it is now 3 a.m. And while there is plenty of overlap in each of those categories, if you added up all of those people, they comprise about half the voting population of The United States. We’ve already discussed how much I despise math, but even with my limited grasp of arithmetic, this seems to suggest that roughly 50% of Americans are abominable, racist, ignorant, and/or fundamentally stupid. So, I return to an expanded version of the question at the top of this paragraph: How can any country where this is the case possibly be “the best”?
Make no mistake, Donald Trump did not create our present debacle. Sure, he’s the pus-dribbling herpe at the tip of this diseased penis, so it’s easy to erroneously label him the culprit. But no matter what medicine you apply to that sore, the virus remains. People voted for him. LOTS of people. Lots of Americans. If any evidence was required to demonstrate that our democratic structure has massive systemic problems, there you have it. I understand that we as a nation aren’t necessarily defined by our President, who merely serves as a temporary figurehead—even if this particular figurehead embodies the most horrific symbol imaginable of our national paradigm: an uneducated jingoistic criminal buffoon with no respect for anybody; Donald Trump represents the espoused virtues of America about as well as Jaws represents the gentleness of marine life. However, let me repeat: he is the President because millions of Americans voted for him. And they did so despite the fact that his being an uneducated jingoistic criminal buffoon with no respect for anybody was not only common knowledge but something he openly boasted about. So, not to belabor a point, but this alleged “greatest country in the world” is comprised of millions and millions of individuals who think these are desirable qualities for the person who controls the largest stockpile of nuclear weapons on the planet to have. This alleged “greatest country in world” is also home to multitudes of people who have indicated they would vote for Kanye West if that megalomaniacal psychopath ran for President. Clearly, the masses who ultimately chart the course of this nation are not intelligent enough to make any decision with such weighty consequences. And this is why we can’t have nice things.
Yet so many among us still cling to time-honored fallacies about our superiority. To them, America is like The Beatles—unassailable, immune to criticism. To them, it’s just blindly accepted that America is the world’s zenith. So pass the fireworks and don’t tread on me, motherfucker.
And maybe that’s a big part of the problem. Maybe too many of us have been impetuously clinging to this tarnished ideal, clutching our flags to our proud red-white-and-blue bleeding hearts, oblivious to the feces smeared all over the fabric. We still think we’re Let It Be, even though the music we’re making these days sounds a lot more like Ringo Starr’s solo albums. So maybe, just maybe, it’s time to accept the sad reality that our magic moment has passed, that Yoko has sapped the soul of our foundation and torn us apart from within. Then maybe we’ll start caring enough to actually fucking do something about it.
Hey, the dudes up the street are. Two more roaring explosions just resounded across the blue-black firmament. It is 4:14 a.m. It’s never too late to celebrate America, apparently.
But this isn’t what you want to read about right now, is it? I suppose you saw the header of this piece and assumed I was going to write some eloquent, reflective treatise about the band Cinderella. Well, I cannot. And it’s not just because despite my overly generous appreciation for the hairspray hard-rock of my youth, Cinderella’s limited charms place them in the bottom tier of those outfits. Even their very best song, “Nobody’s Fool”, exists squarely in the middle of the road—it’s neither great nor awful, it’s just sort of… there. Tom Keifer does a decent impression of AC/DC’s Brian Johnson, and the Night Songs disc I’m listening to right now is enjoyable enough for me to accede that Cinderella was probably a better band than Bang Tango, but those merits are woefully inadequate to justify my writing anything of substance about them.
And even worse: I can’t write anything of substance about our country’s dismal state of affairs, either.  I have no solutions to offer, no wisdom to impart. I am merely a broken man sitting at his laptop trying to make sense of the madness suffusing the world around him. And here’s the worst part of the even worse part: all of it, every insane and malevolent thing that is happening to us right now, makes absolute sense to me. I told everyone close to me that Donald Trump was going to win this past election as soon as he announced his candidacy, a prediction which was roundly scoffed at by the smartest people I know. Being right doesn’t make me a soothsayer or a political genius, it simply makes me an overanxious pessimist who has been gauging the very worst in humanity long enough to assume that the very worst thing which can happen in any situation where humanity is involved is more likely than not the thing that is going to happen. Therefore, it was only natural for me to assume that Trump was going to happen.
Whether we like it or not—and this is the thing we’re going to have to accept about the modern American identity if we ever want to make the situation any better—the ethos of Donald Trump’s reality-show sensationalism epitomizes more Americans than the ethos of an arrogant professional shrew in a pant-suit does. The reasons I voted for Hillary Clinton had nothing to do with her dogma speaking to me and touching my soul and igniting a spark of patriotism in my heart—no, those were the reasons I voted for Barack Obama twice. I actively revile Hillary Clinton; I just revile her a whole lot less than I revile Donald Trump. I wasn’t With Her, I was merely Against Him. And I was not alone in this perspective. And I think this is rather emblematic of the broad-spectrum mediocrity and complacency which is inherent in present-day America: legions of the best among us were willing to embrace a patently unexceptional figurehead simply because she wasn’t as bad as the alternative. We didn’t demand the best possible representative of our values, we were prepared to settle for someone who obfuscated her shadiest tenets instead of flaunting them as selling points like her opponent did. “Good enough” was good enough for us. But being a better candidate than some of the truly abhorrent alternatives did not make Hillary Clinton the best candidate. Any more than being a better republic than some of the truly abhorrent alternatives makes America the best country.
No, I am not especially proud to be an American. Especially not at the moment. Why should I be? My nationality is not a product of any extraordinary accomplishment on my part, it is a product of my being lucky enough to be sired by parents whose ancestors managed to slip across the border before ICE existed. I’m certainly not saying I hate America—it’s where I live, it’s where my friends and family live, and it’s where my record collection lives; it has some appealing qualities. Yet espousing our nation’s superiority while disregarding its numerous and glaring failings is a lot like rooting for the New England Patriots despite their legacy of cheating and dishonor because they win more games than they lose. Donald Trump didn’t invent corruption and atrocity; America has a long history of both, one which we conveniently discount while championing its greatness. But here’s the thing there: we treat those unpleasant facets of our bygone chronicle as if they are challenges we have overcome, as if we have somehow evolved past them. Yet, if there’s any salient wisdom to be gleaned from the events of the past two years, it is that we as a society have not actually progressed as much as we claim. How dare we assert our enlightenment when we still live in a land where a man can rape an unconscious woman with a foreign object in an alleyway and be virtually immune to punishment because his white scholar-athlete eminence is hoisted as an exemplar of the American ideal. How dare we claim to be the best at anything when first-world nations around the globe continue eclipsing our finest accomplishments while we’re busy playing Democrats vs. Republicans, battling each other like boorish Neanderthal contestants on the same sort of trash television programs which launched our current President to notoriety.
Trump’s ascendency has legitimized his most repugnant traits and demonstrated that there is a vast and ravenous fan-base for cruelty among our populace. It has proven this country is laden with people devoid of empathy, callous budding sociopaths who were just waiting for someone to come along and tell them that their deep-seeded bigotries and intolerances are venerable assets. Which is why simply removing one fiend from office will not be enough to pull us out of our extant quagmire. That resolution will be like remedying our slit throats with kisses from our mamas—it may feel good for a moment, but it will not suture our wounds. Because America has been hemorrhaging for a very long time and we have chosen to ignore that. Donald Trump merely rubbed that blood over all of our faces for the world to see.  
If you’re proud to be an American, that’s just fine. But what are you so proud of right now? It seems to me that anyone who truly loves this country should want it to be the very best it can be. And it seems to me that the first step toward achieving that is acknowledging that the American essence needed drastic and sweeping improvements well before Der Fuhrer took office. It’s time for us to admit that we are not the greatest country in the world; such a contention only rings as superciliousness at this juncture, in light of the all the evidence to the contrary. Because as long as a maestro with absolutely zero redeeming qualities is orchestrating our symphony, we need to account for the pandemic narrowness among the citizenry who handed him the baton. The time has come to concede that a body riddled with cancerous cells cannot possibly be the healthiest. And to ask ourselves what redeeming qualities we have left—what can we possibly stand for—when enough of us decided that an unprincipled monster represented our nation’s spirit to put one at the helm. Then, and only then, can we begin to cure our sickness.
Okay, here’s how we fix everything…
Nope. I told you, I have no answers for you. Because a large and terrified part of me suspects we may have already cued the band to play our funeral march the moment that diminutive orange hand touched a Bible and sealed the oath that made him the global symbol of what America represents in 2018. And this absolutely fucking devastates me. I may not adore this country at present, but of course I want to it to survive. Because if it does, maybe there’s a chance we can eventually make it the greatest country in the world for real.
For now, everyone I know is resolving to hold on tightly to the masts until the storm passes and the great vessel stops listing. Regrettably, I think there’s a very strong chance our ship will sink before that happens. Regrettably, perhaps it already has. I’m not sure there’s any coming back from the path we’re on now, if this much damage can ever be undone. I’d love to say I’m hopeful, but most of my “Hope” went away when the singularly kind and inspiring man who delivered that slogan did.
That’s why I wasn’t out watching others wave sulphuric pom-poms in the sky to rejoice in the majesty of America tonight. I was huddled inside my apartment, seeking shelter from the onslaught, listening to the terrible sounds of the world exploding around me and knowing I was utterly powerless to stop it, desperately wishing the trauma would end and hoping that when the new dawn finally came my home would not lie in ruins.
After all, it’s 2018. That was the most appropriate American experience I could think of.  
 July 4, 2018  
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