#too much fun to let the debate continue and it's just boring character-wise to say one is better

[booasaur]

The Expanse - 6x03 - One Ship: Win or Lose

#theexpanseedit #the expanse #bobbie draper #amos burton #frankie adams #wes chatham #violence tw #choking tw #not sure if that's the right tag #the expanse 6x03 #hee #this was so fun! #giving the fans what they want #which is bobbie in a tank all glistening #:P #and the small matter of an amos vs bobbie showdown #as for the ending....well I know they'd never give one of them an out and out win #too much fun to let the debate continue and it's just boring character-wise to say one is better #thoughhh I dunno if I'd agree that bobbie is better in a clean fight and amos if they fight dirty #but eh

[wonda-cat]

You mentioned rewriting that one analysis post on Tommy’s revival stream and I’d really look forward to it! I never got to read the full og post and that’s the only place I saw these takes. Especially the one about the afterlife being too depressing. It’s not even just about Tommy, the implication that even if every character is safe and happy by the end, this is their inevitable fate is messed up. It’s not “a neat subversion” it’s just depressing and doesn’t add anything.

Hey, anon!

I sorta decided to not rewrite it? I feel a bit differently about the essay in the end, although I still believe in most of my points. I’m also just not nearly as passionate about it as I was when I wrote it (I finished it in a single sitting, which was... interesting.) However, yes, the afterlife stuff still bothers me just the same, as well as the odd changes to Wilbur’s characterization... post mortem.

But—just for you, anon—here’s the entire meta-analysis essay anyway, with some minor edits to the stuff I don’t agree with anymore!

My Many Narrative Issues with Tommyinnit’s Revival Stream

I want to preface this by saying that I dearly love the Dream SMP and understand it isn’t exactly comparable to other mediums like TV and film. With this being the case, most criticism against it is generally in bad faith or strange in foundation. Complaining about streamers for bad acting is the best example that comes to mind. 

These aren’t professional actors. Most have never acted in this sort of setting, or even at all. Quite a few have admitted to never roleplaying before. Which is why it’s warranted to praise Tommy, Dream, Wilbur, Ranboo, and others when they deliver stellar performances. The same applies to criticism of music choice, dialogue delivery, focus, tone, etc. 

However, one such category I cannot overlook is in regards to its writing. The writing of a story is its entire foundation. It encompasses many things—conflict choice, character development, themes, and morals. The author creates the blueprints for the architect, who then expresses the story with light, sound, color, pacing, and music. It is in its execution that we see if this connection is made or broken. 

The reason I find poor writing mostly inexcusable is because it is one of the most available skills to practice and perfect. I don’t mean to say that it’s easy, I mean to say it is something anyone can attempt to cultivate. Whether they do it well or not depends on their methods and experience. If anyone can self-publish a novel and be criticized online for its quality—and even compared to the works of Mark Twain—then I find critiquing the writing of the Dream SMP to be perfectly reasonable. 

However, since the Dream SMP script is a set of loose bullet points, tearing apart dialogue and scene continuity—which is nearly all improv—is rather useless. It doesn’t exactly have a clear focus as the plot plays out. The characters talk in circles until they hit the story beat required, and then they move onto the next. Thus, when criticizing it, one should generally critique grand events and narrative-specific shifts, more so than small-scale character interactions. 

Which brings me to my main point: The broad narrative choices taken in Tommyinnit’s most recent livestream, ‘Am I dead?’ may lead to disastrous writing pitfalls in the future. 

I’ll be outlining each of my issues below, in hopes of creating a better understanding as to why I feel this way. 

This might become quite lengthy, so please bear with me for a bit.

Tommy’s relationship to Wilbur has flipped. This change is jarring and seems out of character.

Tommy and Wilbur’s friendship is rather complicated. While Wilbur does care for Tommy immensely, especially during the L’Manburg Revolution and the Election Arc, his mental spiral during exile put a massive strain on their relationship as a whole. Wilbur brushed off Tommy’s feelings and wants, while clinging to him and pushing everyone else away. He was simultaneously distant and suffocating. 

Tommy, on the other hand, has an unclear view of his mentor. Since the beginning, and even long after Wilbur’s death, Tommy held him in especially high regard. He saw him as a brother-figure and a wise leader. He followed what he said and did everything he could to impress him. Yet, Wilbur still hurt him while the two were together in exile. 

When speaking of him, Tommy tends to flip infrequently between remembering Wilbur the way he was before his mental decline and thinking of him as a monster. Both of these images conflict with each other, but they weren’t nearly as extreme as what Tommy described Wilbur as when he was revived from death. The fear Tommy displays to Wilbur is beyond intense—it feels as if the audience may have missed a month’s worth of character development. 

This can make sense, especially since it was stated that he’d spent what felt like two months in the void. However, this shift is still deeply at odds with Tommy’s previous impressions of Wilbur, which is both disheartening and confusing. The fact that Tommy would agree to stay with Dream—his abuser and murderer—over his past mentor is simply head-reeling. It paints a very different picture of Wilbur’s character, somewhat conforming to the fandom’s ableist impression of him—the idea that Wilbur is insane and irredeemable, and always will be. 

It also ignores Dream being the driving factor in Wilbur’s downfall, as well as the double-bind deal with Dream which required him to push the button, no matter the outcome. Others have pointed out that Tommy may be lying to get Dream to bring Wilbur back, and there’s compelling evidence for that. For one, Tommy and Wilbur’s conversation seemed uncomfortable, but it was certainly nothing like Tommy implied. (Unless this fear comes from something Wilbur said off-screen.) 

Tommy also begged Dream to not bring him back multiple times over, which he should know would make Dream even more tempted to, simply because he likes seeing Tommy in pain. Tommy is also a known unreliable narrator. He may be making Wilbur out to be worse than he is by accident (even still, I’d argue this is a bit of a stretch.) 

However, there are some issues with this theory. Tommy offered himself as payment to Dream if he chose to let Wilbur rest. This is a deal Tommy knows Dream is extremely unlikely to refuse. Tommy is what Dream has coveted all this time. If Tommy genuinely wanted Wilbur back, he would not offer this. This sort of compromise is Tommy’s greatest nightmare—something he would only do in response to his friends being threatened or his home being destroyed. 

To add, Tommy is not great at lying. Unless he was taught by Wilbur for those two months* in the afterlife, there’s no chance Tommy would be this good at it. Thirdly, Tommy is terrible under pressure. He uses humor to cope. When he can’t, he cries and shouts and spills his heart out. While cornered, Tommy will tell the truth about anything, especially if Dream casually debates killing him again, just for fun. 

For now, it’s too early to tell how the relationship shift will play out. In the grand scheme of things, this issue is rather minor.

Season three’s writing is needlessly bleak. The portrayal of the afterlife is a nightmare. There is no rest, not even in death.

I adore the Dream SMP storyline in its entirety. I believe the first season is fantastic, and while the second season has some narrative clarity issues, I enjoyed it just as much. Although, I would argue season one had a more concrete understanding of its Hope-Conflict balance. 

To briefly explain, the Hope in stories are its ‘highs’ and good moments. These appear when a character the audience is rooting for is narratively rewarded. They happen during character building in the text—it’s the downtime and peace that allows for connection and relatability. It’s a moment for the viewer to breathe easy. 

The other half is Conflict, an obstacle in the story that gets in the way of the main characters’ goals, beliefs, and motives. These are the ‘lows.’ They give the narrative focus and weight. They make the highs feel even higher. They establish consequences and force the characters in the story to change in order to adapt and overcome them. 

I bring up the Hope-Conflict balance because a traditional hero’s journey would have an appropriate amount of both. Their highs and lows are generally equalized, as the name suggests. However, this balance has been awkwardly skewed in the latter half of season two and in the current plot of season three. To clarify, it is perfectly reasonable, and even common, for some stories to tip the scale more to one side. 

But a common mistake for amateur writers is to create their stories as either hopelessly dark to cause the audience continuous distress for the sake of distress, or to keep everything entirely conflict-free for most of the plot. What do these both have in common? They each make the story boring and predictable. 

Season three has taken this concept and thrown a monstrously heavy weight onto the Conflict side and flipped the scale so hard it has crashed through the ceiling. The viewers are hardly given time to find any joy in Tommy’s character, as he’s thrown into yet another abusive situation, just barely after his first narrative reward. The world is painted as relentlessly violent and traumatic. 

Every person Tommy meets is morally grey, unhinged, or out to hurt him. Everything most of the characters love is taken from them by those in positions of power. Ranboo cannot even grieve properly because it scars his face. Puffy, Sam, Ranboo, and Tubbo all blame themselves for what happened to Tommy. 

The audience watches lore stream after lore stream with the same depressing tone (with the exception of Tubbo’s, but I assume that’s unintentional.) Tommy is revived after being brutally beaten to death by his abuser, surrounded by all of his greatest fears. The afterlife is revealed to be akin to inescapable torture. It’s a colorless void that wraps the individual like fabric. 

Time moves thirty times slower within. There’s nothing—nothing but the voices of others who’ve passed on before him. Dying in a world already devoid of happiness takes the characters to a place worse than hell. When a narrative delivers unfair suffering to the entire cast without a moment of joy to speak of, the story will feel simultaneously overwhelming and pointless. 

Why watch characters suffer when there’s no light at the end of the tunnel? What happiness could they strive for when we know they’ll never get to keep it? How can I be satisfied with a good ending, if I know that an afterlife too terrible to name is what awaits them, truly, at the end of their story? Death isn’t even a white void that offers rest—it is eternal torment. 

Obviously, it isn’t a good message to send by making the afterlife seem like a quiet, perfect place or an escape from pain. But making it an unspeakable anguish which awaits, assumedly, every character who will die in the future? I deeply hope Tommy was only being an extremely unreliable narrator. 

More likely, I hope the place Tommy was taken to was a Limbo of sorts, not an end-all-be-all destination for everyone.

The degree of Tommy’s narrative punishment continues to escalate, to an almost absurd degree.

Tommy is one of the most tragic characters to exist in the storyline. He was sent into war at a young age and experienced two traumatic events during it. He was exiled by the newly elected leader and witnessed his mentor Wilbur spiral and break down with paranoia. Tubbo is executed publicly in front of him. When expressing rightful anger at the person who murdered him, he’s beaten nearly to death and never receives an apology. 

Schlatt dies right in front of Tommy, after his initial refusal to hurt the ex-president. His brother-figure and mentor is killed in assisted suicide on the same day his nation is blown up. His best friend exiles him from his home for the second time. He routinely self-sacrifices to protect his country and those who live there. His most treasured possessions were taken from him and he was called selfish for trying to retrieve them (although his methods were self-destructive and volatile.) 

He was pushed to the brink of suicide after being relentlessly abused and isolated in his exile. He was horrified when he thought he was responsible for drowning Fundy. After making an objectively good decision to stand by his old friends and change for the better, his country was obliterated by the man he once idolized, his father-figure, and his abuser. 

He was left scattered and without purpose for many days. Then he fights against Dream and loses, while also reliving his trauma. He watches Tubbo almost die at the hands of someone he once thought was his friend. He doesn’t tell a single person about what happened to him in exile. The day he tries to sever his connection to Dream and heal, he’s trapped with him for a week, surrounded by everything that terrifies him. 

He threatens to kill himself, speaking about his own life as if it were an object—something to hold over Dream’s head. He blames himself for everything bad that’s ever happened to L’Manburg and his friends—internalizing a mentality as a scapegoat for everyone around him. He is forced into the role of ‘hero’ despite the title being unfair and distressing to him.

As if that weren’t enough, he’s then beaten to death by his abuser and spends what feels like two months in an afterlife that is worse than hell. When he returns, his senses are excessively heightened. Dream can cause him excruciating pain, just by pinching him. He can send Tommy into an instant panic attack, just by raising his voice. 

The punishment Tommy’s character receives is a thousand times worse than everyone he has ever met, or ever will meet. And it shows no signs of stopping, as Dream now has control over Tommy’s very mortality. Tommy now fears the slightest damage and feels as if he’s losing his best friend all over again. He is also forced into a position where he has to kill Dream out of necessity, to protect everyone he cares about.

Characters need fitting punishments in relation to their actions. Not always, but in order to be satisfying? Yes, they do. It is preferred that a main character deal with unfair situations and difficult conflicts, but this is borderline torture p*rn. Putting Tommy in these distressing and abusive situations on repeat and punishing him for doing objectively moral or healthy things is exhausting to watch. 

To quickly add, I find the general insinuation of Tommy going to hell distasteful, especially considering the contents of his storyline. I know this may be hard to believe, but Tommy is one of the most moral characters in the plot, besides Puffy and Ghostbur. He’s also the only character, followed by Ranboo, to recognize that they can be wrong and make mistakes. He changed himself in order to heal and be a better person. He was in the process of paying people back for the things he’d stolen. 

He’s learned to be hard-working and less violent through the guidance of Sam. He has apologized to everyone he’s ever hurt (with the exception of Jack Manifold, because that man is allergic to communication.) He puts himself in harm's way to protect others. He doesn’t set out to purposely hurt anyone. He goes out of his way to make connections with people and maintain them, even if others don’t reciprocate. 

He’s hopelessly optimistic, despite his outwardly bitter façade. He loved so much and put meaning into the smallest things. The thought that a person like him—a suicide and abuse survivor—would go to hell after being beaten to death by the man who took everything from him; it makes me sick to my stomach. 

The only thing more morbid than Tommy’s afterlife being different than everyone else’s, is the concept that everyone will end up in this same eternal torture, no matter what they do. Take your pick: Tommy is sentenced to anguish until the end of time for no reason, or everyone will receive the same disturbing ending, regardless of their actions.

The narrative weight of Ranboo’s character is potentially out the window.

For the past few months, I’ve watched all of Ranboo’s lore streams faithfully, curious to see what role he would play in the future. His ‘hallucinations’ of Dream seemed to be sowing the seeds for a plot that has Ranboo taking the fall for every single insidious thing Dream has done. It would also be a tragic parallel to Tommy’s trial. 

Ranboo being convinced he was the one who blew up the community house, when Dream himself admitted to doing it, was one of the bigger indicators for me. This is just one of many other unexplained occurrences. Dream seemed to be making an effort to trigger and control Ranboo, especially after Sapnap’s prison visit. It appeared, from the way he went about this, that Dream had some grand use for Ranboo as part of his plan to be freed from Pandora’s Vault. 

However, after Tommy’s stream, the way Dream explains himself makes it seem like there was no plan besides seeing if the book worked on people. And if he didn’t after all, then what was Ranboo for? Was Ranboo unimportant? Was Ranboo just some weirdo who happened to phase out when seeing smiley faces and imagined conversations that may or may not have happened? 

I bring this up more as a worry, and much less so as an active problem in the narrative. They haven’t actually thrown Ranboo to the way-side or written themselves into a corner yet. In future streams, this could very easily be explained away or developed as more information is revealed. 

Only time will tell.

The potential for Wilbur’s future development and importance to the plot is unfeasible.

I feel as if I am the only person on earth who doesn’t want Wilbur Soot or Schlatt revived. There are many reasons for this, but one of them is not a dislike for these characters. I especially adore Wilbur, as he’s one of my all-time favorites. I don’t want either of them resurrected because their stories have already been told. They each had a fitting conclusion that ended their involvement perfectly. 

Bringing Wilbur back would especially cheapen the impact of the War of the 16th. It’s the end of a man who was brought to the absolute edge and out of desperation, shame, and self-hatred, he destroyed himself alongside his creation. Bringing him back would leave the climax of the previous story hollow. My biggest issue, however, is that a lack of story importance would likely follow his return. 

The only real impact I’d like to see is through a healing arc with Tommy, an apology to Fundy, or a confrontation with Phil/Niki. But that’s really all the potential I can realistically see. While I don’t doubt Wilbur as an agent of chaos, able to create plot out of thin air; what is he going to do now? His country is gone, his friends and family are scattered about, and his mission from the 16th is already accomplished. 

What is a well-educated, charismatic politician supposed to do in a world already broken and without nations? Read poetry to himself and cry evilly? However, this is working off the assumption that Wilbur would be returning as his old self. 

If Wilbur is resurrected as a ‘villain’ of sorts, then what? He’s not good at fighting in the slightest. He would have no materials. There are no real allies he can make, other than the arctic group. On top of that, there are already more than enough villains to last a lifetime. 

We don’t need any more, I promise. Quackity seems to already be shaping up as another antagonist, alongside Sam’s slip into darker and darker shades of moral ambiguity. We also have Philza and Techno, which are already overkill. But then we have Dream who, despite being in a prison, has the ability of selective revival. This is mercilessly overpowered, especially if he makes many allies. The dude could just bring his dead friends back so they can keep fighting forever. 

Then there’s Jack Manifold and the Crimson followers; Antfrost, Bad, and Punz. That’s not even including characters who are refusing to get involved. How are Tommy, Tubbo, and Puffy expected to do literally anything to fight back?

Dream’s experiment on Tommy implies he had no backup plan to begin with. This makes his character seem both short-sighted and foolish.

When Tommy woke up after being brought back to life, Dream sounded surprised that the revival worked at all. This instantly shatters the perception that Dream was highly intelligent and thought ahead. With just a few lines of dialogue, it’s implied that Dream killed Tommy, unsure of if the resurrection would even be possible on humans. 

Which, to risk something that important, seems unbelievably stupid. Dream needs Tommy, from his perspective. Tommy is his ‘toy,’ the one who makes everything fun. If he lost him and couldn’t get him back, what then? Oh well, everything Dream was doing was all for nothing, I guess. 

Why not attempt this experiment on literally anyone else first? Like Sapnap or Bad or, hell, even Ranboo. I suppose it could be that, as soon as Dream got the book, he experimented with it after the 16th. This appears to be insinuated with Friend and Hendry’s revival, although this is uncertain. But even then, he was still unsure of the book’s effect on a human being.

Also, this means, hypothetically, Dream’s entire plan of escape hinged on the experiment working, to begin with, and also on bringing back Wilbur if it somehow did. I find this even more ridiculous. Why Wilbur? That man couldn’t find his way out of a paper bag, let alone get through the traps in Pandora’s Vault. Even if he is intelligent after years* in the afterlife, that’s also a strange assumption. 

How do people learn things in the void? Where do they even get this knowledge? I’d honestly argue Techno is a far more competent choice than Wilbur. And even if Dream did bring him back and tell him he owed him his life, what’s to stop Wilbur from just killing him permanently? Or killing himself, continuously? 

No way would Wilbur want to be controlled by anyone, ever. The dude would sooner fuck off into the mountains and become a nomad than help a neon green bodysuit cosplay as Light Yagami.

Dream’s discussion about Sam implies that he wasn't playing any part in Dream’s plan, making Sam appear entirely incompetent and neglectful of Tommy.

Dream talked about Sam in a way that seems detached and unaffiliated. He also mentioned him being broken up about Tommy’s fate and not being aware he’s still alive. Dream not being partnered with, or not using Sam in his plan leaves many plot holes. I’ll go through each one. The initial incident was an explosion, coming from the roof of Pandora’s Vault. This did not affect the Redstone mechanism for the doors or dispensers. 

Meaning, Sam could’ve had Tommy leave the way that was expected for visitors after he investigated and found no issues. This likely couldn’t have been done in less than a day, but it would be better than an entire week. If Tommy was required to stay for longer, due to protocol, he could’ve gotten Tommy out and then placed him in one of the minor cells for the remainder of the time. 

Also, no one else lost a canon life for leaving via the splash potion of harming and returning outside the maximum-security cell; why would Tommy? To add, Sam being uninvolved means that the explosion could have only been caused by Ranboo or Foolish. That, or it was placed long before and timed for the moment Tommy entered the main cell. (I’m going to ignore how ludicrous it is that someone would know the exact time Tommy would’ve entered the room with Dream.) 

If Ranboo was the person behind the detonation, this implies he was necessary for Dream to kill Tommy to test the book. But that makes it even stranger. If this was Dream’s goal all along, why not kill Tommy the instant he was trapped with him? It makes no sense for him to wait so long. 

Sam is also directly at fault for not letting Tommy out, even after the week was up. There was no reason not to. He already knew there were no issues with the prison at that point. Although, to be fair to Sam, his character may have been paranoid and checking everything more than necessary, just in case. But this still isn’t a good excuse for him ignoring protocol in this one instance, and yet, not in any of the others. 

All of these plot holes or inconsistencies would be removed if it was revealed that Dream was blackmailing Sam in some way, or Sam had been working with him since the get-go. That Sam was the person who set off the explosion in the first place to trap Tommy inside. It would also explain Sam’s refusal to let Tommy out and by keeping him in there for longer than necessary. 

This can also coexist with Sam’s attachment and care for Tommy. He probably wasn’t told about Dream’s plan to test the book and genuinely believed Dream wouldn’t hurt him. On top of that, Dream is known to be a pathological liar, so his statements about Ranboo and Sam could be entire fabrications. 

Who knows?

The Book of Revival invalidates death entirely. The narrative now lacks both tension and consequence.

Another way the Dream SMP differs from other storytelling media is in the way it goes about its character deaths. In a TV show, for example, there will be characters who die just because, or when it’s important to the plot. However, it seems as if the Dream SMP is hesitant to commit to killing its characters. And there are many reasons for that. 

The most important one being, killing someone’s character excludes them from the story and some of their livelihoods depend on them regularly streaming on the server. There is also the issue of the cast becoming extremely sparse if characters keep dying. Typically, in stories, when you kill a character, you should introduce another. 

This keeps the cast from dwindling as the storyline goes on. This means the writers would have to find new streamers to join, who will develop their own characters and relationships with the plot’s continued momentum. This can be stressful and daunting to those who may be newly added in the future. 

Keeping this in mind, the Book of Revival is annoying from a writer’s perspective. When death is no longer an issue for a story hinged on its characters’ mortality, then what do you have as a consequence anymore? We’ve explored every kind under the sun; from abuse, to betrayal, to loss, to destruction. 

In stories, traditionally, death is a finality. It’s a conclusion. Whether it’s good or not depends on the character’s actions, its build-up, and the event’s execution. Without this lingering sense of danger, tension evaporates from the story. 

Why should I care if Tommy loses in a fight to someone, if he’ll just come back a day later? Why should I care about what happened to Wilbur, if he just returns as if nothing happened? The answer is simple: I won’t. I will no longer care if Tubbo or Ranboo or Sam die in the story, because the idea of revival even being a possible outcome leaves me unenthused and uncaring. 

The Dream SMP likes to flirt with death. It teases the demise of its main characters many, many times. More so Tommy’s than anyone else’s. Wilbur’s failed resurrection, which had unforeseen and unfortunate outcomes, is now strange in comparison to Tommy’s, which happened without a hitch. 

To be fair, we actually don’t see how many attempts it took. But here’s the problem; Dream could do it without the book being physically present. He’s trapped in a prison with nothing on him, meaning he doesn’t need any materials either. It’s also implied he could do this as many times as he feels, for anyone he wants. This would be exceedingly overpowered, if not for one thing—Dream himself is mortal (at least, I fucking hope he’s mortal.) 

If someone kills him one last time, that knowledge is gone forever. And I’m glad they’ve established at least some way for Tommy to win. Because at this point, I was losing faith. 

There is also the bare minimum establishment that Dream can refuse to bring back those he doesn’t care for. He can also use it as a shield, holding this power over other people. If Dream is gone, death is permanent. But isn’t that how death is supposed to be, anyway? 

What a bleak premise—the afterlife is pure eternal torture while life is cheapened by a lack of consequences.

Conclusion

All this to say, I am cautiously optimistic for the future. I hope dearly that every single one of these can be disproven or developed in the coming livestreams. Obviously, there’s not enough information to really determine what the end result will be, or how everything will fall into place. 

Every time I have theorized about the story, it has done something completely different and pleasantly surprised me. I want this trend to continue. 

Surprise me again—I’ll be here to see where it goes.

#answered asks #long post #tommyinnit #dream smp meta #dream smp #dsmp #dsmp analysis #this is slightly outdated still but whatever #hope this was helpful anon #tw abuse #tw suicide

[autumn-foxfire]

Take a shot every time a dabihawks artist goes 'whats the point of bj being alive :/ now hawks doesnt have as much depth'. Like holy shit its amazing how much time i saw it on my twitter dash cuz i follow a bunch of dabihawks artist, they really be simply misunderstanding their fav chara. They be like 'i dont want him to be a pure hero' like girl thats your down fault horikoshis been telegraphing hes the goodest boy from the start.

Idk maybe its because a lot of people that ship enemies to lovers are kinda used to both people being as bad but on different sides of the conflict like shizaya or soukoku. But dabihawks is very clear cut good vs evil n that dont fit the ship dynamic so they bend hawks in their head to fit it in. Like ye it harder to find the justification for them to end up together and you have to deal with the fact that ur fav might be objectivly worse but if you cut hawls character down and say its boring if it doesnt fit what you imagined, well that just means that u like hawks more as 'dabis boyfriend' or 'hero turned villain' that u like him more as those ideas then what he actually is in the manga and thats no ones fault but ur own.

Like im just bothered by the fact that so many are now saying this is 'boring'. Like ye corrupted heroes are very fun, 'license to kill' heroes are very fun, heroes that make questionable decisions are very fun. Morally gray characters are very fun.

But hawks doesnt have to be that to be fun and interesting

Hawks started of as a child with inclination to save, with admiration to heroes and a naive wish to be like his personal heroes. A morally gray government organization bought him out and trained him since he was a lil baby boy to give up his name and his identity and to be a perfect little child soldier. He got wise to the corruption and his innocent and pure view of the world was dashed. But he still had that inclination to save people so he stuck by (though having no where else to go and no knowledge of anything else also counts in) and he formed his own image of a hero and he kept his ear to the ground ans he fought and saved without a break. Despite his innocent world views being dashed, he didnt let the same happen to his dreams and he continued pushing from inside the organization that raises him and inspite of it to do good things good way. You could still say he has naive dreams, like wanting to eliminate the need for heroes inside his lifetime, but he pushes for them so strongly and he cares so much and no matter what he always tries to save the maximum number of people he can.

And i dont think thats boring. Hawks is an overwhelmingly good character who often has tough decisions pushed on to him because of the organoization he belongs to. We are used to those kind of characters bending and breaking and corrupting under pressure but hawks so strongly sticks to being good to saving people no mattee what even if it endangers him. Theres nothing boring about wanting to be a good person and working hard to remain a good person despite the entier world pushing you to corruption.

Say it with me kids morally darker doesnt equal more interesting. Being good isnt boring.

If I took a shot everytime I saw a dabihawks artist say that on twitter, I’m pretty sure I would be dead from alcohol poisoning.

As you said, so many of them seem to misunderstand Hawks character or wanted him to be dragged down to Dabi’s level for some bizarre reason. It is possibly because they’re used to enemies to lovers ships that have both the characters be assholes in some way (neither good or bad) and Dabihawks isn’t a ship that fits this mold. Dabi is objectively the bad guy in this ship, not only is he the villain in the manga, he’s also done bad things to Hawks too, meanwhile the worst you could argue Hawks has done to Dabi is threaten him at knife point (though that was for his own protection), killed someone in front of him (whether Dabi was affected by that is still highly debatable) and ruined his plans (which... duh, Hawks is a hero).

But! They could still work as a couple! Any ship can in fanon. However for it to be a plausible relationship, you’re going to either have a fall from grace arc for Hawks (which many for some reason thought was going to happen in canon) or a redemption arc for Dabi. And because many people seem to love the “found family” of the League, they usually go for the fall from grace with Hawks. That’s probably why they were so disappointed that it didn’t become a canon aspect of his character, because they like the idea of him falling from grace (...I don’t get the appeal but to each their own).

I just wish they’d stop it with calling Hawks boring because Horikoshi didn’t write what they personally wanted to see. As you said, their are many, many interesting aspects to Hawks character outside of his brief affiliation to the League and it’s so frustrating to see these people call them boring! There’s nothing boring about being a good person! Especially when we see that good person pushed to the breaking point with their ideals and pushed into corners and made to commit difficult decisions! We get to see Hawks be a complex person and explore morality with him and these people think that’s boring?! And think Hawks becoming morally bankrupt is interesting (haven’t we got enough of those characters with the League?)

They have a dumb definition of boring and interesting if you ask me.

#bnha #bnha dabihawks #dabihawks #bnha hawks #hawks #bnha dabi #dabi #thanks for the ask!! #I'm so sorry these people can't reduce Hawks down to Dabi's boyfriend #so so sad #thegaygyrus

[unfolded73]

Husbands: Two Years In (3/5) - schitt’s creek ff

This fic is complete, posting every other weekday. While I'm including it as part of the "Labels" series, the preceding fics are not required reading. Previous fics in this series: Boyfriends; “I Love You”, Partners, Fiancés

Warning: This fic deals with depression as one of its major topics.

Rated Explicit, this chapter 5153 words. (ao3)

Thanks to @high-seas-swan for cheerleading and B13_MaybeThisTime for many valuable comments (and also cheerleading).

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

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

Chapter 3: Summer

Wherever Patrick Brewer might have expected his the trajectory of his life to lead, even after he’d broken it off with Rachel and left his hometown, even after he realized he was gay and fell in love with a man, he could never have imagined a future that included walking down a sunny sidewalk in SoHo on an August afternoon with a woman like Moira Rose on his arm.

This trip to New York City had been in the works for months, planned for the break between the filming of Crows IV and the date when Moira would need to return to set for season three of the Sunrise Bay reboot. The entire Rose family had converged to visit Alexis on this trip, and this afternoon the plan was shopping, which Patrick had gone along with good-naturedly. He didn’t care about the shopping, but it was still fun to be in a city like this, to people-watch as Moira, Alexis, and David orbited around him. Johnny Rose, meanwhile, was meeting with an old friend and hadn’t joined them for this particular outing.

Alexis and David were several feet behind him and Moira, standing outside the Burberry store and arguing about the merits of a coat. Patrick assumed that even had he lingered to listen, what they were saying would have gone in one ear and out the other. So since Moira had taken his arm a few minutes before, he continued their slow promenade, figuring her kids would catch up when they got bored with their debate and noticed that they’d been left behind. Moira moved gracefully in platform heels and a vintage silver dress that probably cost more than Patrick’s entire wardrobe, a hat and large sunglasses obscuring most of her face as she attempted to avoid being recognized.

At the very moment that Patrick was thinking this, a middle-aged woman stopped in front of them, her hands flying to her mouth. “Moira Rose? Oh my god, I’m a huge fan!”

So the attempt to hide her identity only went so far, Patrick realized, watching Moira’s reaction. She pulled off her sunglasses and smiled. “I’m out with my family at the moment, but I would be delighted to pose for a quick photograph.”

The fan gave Patrick a once-over, seeming to consider and immediately reject the idea that he might be anyone important. Moira let go of Patrick and leaned in, almost but not quite touching the woman, and smiled wide for the two seconds that it took for the selfie to be taken.

“They didn’t really kill you off at the end of the last episode, did they? I mean, no one saw your body,” the woman said.

“Now now, surely you don’t think you can dragoon me into revealing spoilers for Sunrise Bay out here on the street like a common newsboy.” Patrick stifled a laugh at the idea of a newsboy out on the sidewalk, selling papers full of TV show spoilers. “But I do appreciate your apprehensiveness about poor Vivian. It would be an inauspicious ending for her if after all this time, her life was snuffed out at the bottom of that cistern, wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“Do keep watching!” Moira said with a flourish of her sunglasses to indicate that the woman was dismissed.

“My mom texted me with that same question about your character,” Patrick admitted, holding his elbow out again for her.

“I was trending the night that episode aired,” Moira said, tucking her hand in the crook of his elbow as they began walking again.

“You’re very kind to your fans,” he said.

“I remember what it was like to feel like I didn’t have many fans left,” she said in a lower register, her accent less ostentatious, the way it got when she was admitting something real, something true. “I don’t take this revival of my career for granted. Not for a second.”

His heart squeezed in his chest for her, for everything she’d gone through and everything she’d managed to claw her way back to achieve.

“Ooh, that’s a lovely handbag,” she said, leading him over to the window of another store.

Patrick thought it was hideous, but what did he know? “Do you want to go in?” he asked, looking down the street to see David and Alexis had finally started to wander in their direction, albeit slowly.

Moira shook her head, resuming their walk. “After those years of deprivation, I find I’m still not used to buying things on impulse. Isn’t that curious?”

“I mean, it’s no surprise those years left a mark. And being frugal is… wise.”

She smiled at him, then glanced back in Alexis and David’s direction. “Do you know, I find I’ve almost forgotten what David was like before he was with you, Patrick. He’s so… secure. It used to surprise me, seeing him like that, but now it’s who he is.”

He winced at the idea of taking credit for David’s growth. At the same time, he knew that David still had deep wells of anxiety lurking under the surface. Marriage hadn’t turned either of them into different people, much as they might sometimes look idyllic as a couple from the outside.

Before he could respond, Moira’s phone chirped from inside her large bag. “I bet that’s John,” she said as she rooted around for the device.

“There you are,” Patrick said to David as he and Alexis joined them.

“Yeah, no thanks to you, just leaving us behind,” David complained while Moira stepped away and spoke into her phone.

Patrick laughed. “We were a half a block ahead of you, David.”

David reached out and put his hands on Patrick’s shoulders. “Yes, but you’re new to the city,” he said with a crooked smile. “You could get lost. Or abducted.”

“I’m sure your mother would have protected me if it came to that.”

Moira finished her call. “I’m going to meet John back at the Plaza and have a little repose before dinner. Shall we reconvene later?”

“We could go back to the hotel too,” Patrick said to David. The Roses were paying for David and Patrick to stay at the same Manhattan hotel, a generous gift that meant they didn’t have to cram themselves into Alexis’ tiny apartment or rent a room in Queens, which David had recoiled at when Patrick suggested it. Pointing out that David had absolutely no logical reason to be picky about hotel rooms, all of which were a step above the place he’d lived for a few years, didn’t sway him.

“I’m still trying to get ideas for your anniversary present,” David said.

“My goodness, have you been married a year already?” Moira asked. “How time does fly.”

David brought his hands up to his cheeks and shook his head in disbelief. “Oh my god, we’ve been married two years, Mother. At least, in a few weeks we will have.”

Alexis reached over and booped Patrick’s nose. “And Patrick hasn’t even mentioned divorce once yet, David, which is impressive.”

“Mm, eat glass,” David said. Patrick grinned — he’d missed their ridiculous banter.

“There’s a gelato place across the street,” Patrick suggested, pointing. He wouldn’t have minded going back to the hotel to rest, but stopping for ice cream would be a good compromise.

David’s eyes lit up. “My husband knows me so well,” he said.

~*~

Patrick let himself be pushed down into the soft mattress, David’s naked body covering his, his mouth working, wet and insistent, against his jaw. “God, good hotels make me so hot,” David whispered.

Chuckling, Patrick ran a palm over the stubble on David’s cheek and back into his hair. “Then it’s a good thing that your parents’ room is on another floor,” he said. He was still a little tipsy from the wine they’d had during dinner at a very nice restaurant, and the process of getting undressed with David once they got back to their room had been a frantic blur.

“A very good thing.” David reached down and cupped Patrick’s hardening cock. “What are you in the mood for?”

Patrick thrust against the inadequate friction David was giving him. “Can I fuck you?”

David squinted an eye closed. “Don’t think I can do that right now, not with the way I’ve been eating today.”

That was fair; Patrick didn’t think he’d be able to bottom at the moment either, now that he thought about it. “Or you could suck my cock?”

“Mm, yes, I can do that,” David said, already sliding down the bed and positioning himself between Patrick’s legs like he didn’t want to lose this momentum, this sloppy, slightly drunken desperation.

The first flutter of David’s tongue against him had Patrick throwing his head back and groaning. But then it quickly became clear that David was in the mood to tease, to savor him, licking him from base to tip with swipes of his tongue like his dick was some kind of obscene ice cream treat, and then only taking him inside his mouth with the gentlest of pressure, not giving him enough suction to get anywhere close to coming. Patrick’s fist clenching in David’s hair only made David chuckle in the back of his throat, like Patrick’s impatience was exactly the goal.

David pulled off, replacing his mouth with his slowly jacking fist. “If you’d let me pack the way I wanted to, I’d have you tied up by now so that I could really take my time with you.”

“I wasn’t going to haul an entire suitcase full of sex toys through customs for a one week vacation,” Patrick said, his hips rising in time with David’s hand. “I wasn’t that interested in giving U.S. airport security a thrill.”

“Your loss,” David said, turning and sucking a bruise into the skin of Patrick’s inner thigh.

When his thighs were mottled with hickeys and David was still only giving him incomplete friction with his hand, Patrick surged up from the bed, flipping their positions. “Your turn to be tortured for a little while,” Patrick said, biting David’s lower lip hard enough to make him grunt.

He worked his way over David’s chest, nosing through his chest hair, pausing to suck hard on one of his nipples, scraping his teeth against the skin stretched over the side of his ribs, then further down to position himself between David’s thighs. He tried to hold out, tried to stretch out the time before he took David’s cock in his mouth, but he felt too hungry for it to wait long. The saltiness, the weight of it on his tongue, made Patrick moan. He still could remember the first time he did this, that night at Stevie’s, and how that final tiny doubt that maybe he wasn’t actually gay, maybe it was just some spell that David Rose had woven, evaporated in the face of how much he loved sucking cock. How he powered through that first blowjob fueled by determination and desire, a puzzle piece of his sexuality slotting into place.

Now he knew David’s responses so intimately, he could play him like an instrument. If Patrick wanted David to come in under two minutes, he could usually manage it. Or he could edge him over and over until David was clutching fistfuls of the sheets and begging, voice hoarse with desperation. Tonight he wanted to tease him, to pay him back for the bruises he could feel now on the inside of his own thighs, but his arousal was pushing him to suck harder, to take David deeper, the tip of his cock brushing along Patrick’s soft palate as he drew him in over and over, matching his rhythm to the shallow thrusts of David’s hips.

“Fuck, I love your mouth,” David gasped. “God, Patrick…” and then he was coming, Patrick letting it pool on the back of his tongue as he soothed David down, slowing and finally pulling off when David relaxed. Patrick swallowed as he wiped saliva from his chin.

“Come up here,” David whispered, gesturing vaguely with one hand. “Let me finish you off. Fuck my mouth.”

Even in the midst of his intense arousal, Patrick was tempted to joke that David was just offering that so that he didn’t have to move, but he elected to hold that comment in as he shuffled up the bed. David put an extra pillow under his head and then grabbed hold of Patrick’s hips, opening his mouth and letting Patrick push his cock inside.

Usually Patrick could grab hold of the strong metal bars of their bed when he did this, but in this hotel he only had the faux headboard that was affixed to the wall. He braced one arm against the wall and reached down to thread his fingers through David’s hair with the other, holding him gently in place as he fucked into his mouth.

“God, that’s hot, David. I love the way you take me,” he gritted out, trying to resist the urge to lose too much control, to thrust too deeply even though he knew David could tap out if he needed. Still, it was an overwhelming visual, the sight of his erection sliding into David’s mouth, and it didn’t take long for Patrick to tip over the edge, crying out as he came, fist clenching in his husband’s hair.

He collapsed at David’s side as David exhaled a long breath, ending on a giggle. “How is the sex between us even better now than it was three years ago?”

Patrick wasn’t sure if the question was rhetorical, but he thought about the answer anyway. While he thought about a serious answer, he gave a non-serious one. “It’s the hotel turning you on so much.”

David smiled. “It’s not, though,” he said softly, signaling his desire to have a sincere conversation.

Patrick rolled toward David and settled a hand on his chest, feeling for the thump of his heart. “Because we know each others’ bodies so well,” he said.

“Mmm. By that logic, when we’re in our eighties, our orgasms will be visible from space.”

“Visible?” Patrick asked, laughing.

“You know what I mean.”

Leaving that aside, Patrick said, “Well, by then I imagine that our aging bodies will have something to say about the sex being all that amazing.”

“Impossible. We’re immortal.”

Patrick lifted his head and pressed a kiss to David’s cheek, and then to his lips. “We’re not.” He knew it wasn’t what David wanted to hear, that he was killing the post-coital mood by saying it, but for some reason he couldn’t stop himself. “If we stay together for our entire lives then there will be messy physical stuff. There’ll be… one or both of our dicks will stop working—“

“Okay, that’s not going to happen.”

“It might happen at some point.”

“You can just feel free to smother me with a pillow if that happens to me,” David said.

“But David, if I murder you, I can’t be the beneficiary of your life insurance,” Patrick replied with a smirk.

“Mmkay.”

“I’ll love you even then, you know,” Patrick said. “When we’re old and wrinkled and have unreliable dicks.”

“That’s very sweet, but can we get back to talking about how great the sex is now?” David whined.

Patrick kissed him again. “The sex is excellent.”

David gave him a warm smile, one of those smiles that filled up his whole face and radiated out of his eyes. “It’s nice seeing you so happy.”

Something about the way David said it gave Patrick pause. He pulled back, putting a little bit of space between them. “You say that like it’s a rare thing.”

He could see a spark of worry in David’s eyes. “No, not rare. You’ve been… exhausted a lot this year, and… and I think this vacation came at a good time, that’s all. I’m glad you’re enjoying the city.”

“I am enjoying it,” Patrick said, but his brain was focusing on the first part, the part about how he’d been exhausted. How David had noticed. He didn’t want that. He didn’t want his mental state to be a burden to his husband, or to make him feel like he was in any way lacking. “I’ve been fine.”

“Okay.” David leaned up and kissed him gently. “Let’s get some sleep.”

Patrick shifted over onto his own pillow, watching as David rolled to face the opposite wall, scrunching his pillow under his head. Sometimes Patrick took it as an invitation to be the big spoon, but tonight he turned onto his back and stared up at the ceiling.

He just wasn’t getting as much enjoyment out of things these days, that was all. And that was to be expected, wasn’t it? They’d been running the store for close to four years, so of course the day-to-day tasks had gotten dull. At the same time, the stress of deciding whether it was the right time to open a second location was wearing on him, because no matter how much planning and calculating he did, ultimately it was a gamble. And Patrick wasn’t a gambler.

Meanwhile, the novelty of being a homeowner was wearing off a bit, and he’d found himself focusing on the downsides of it lately more than the upsides. Rather than spending his early mornings in their warm kitchen, looking out onto the back yard and feeling content, he was struggling to wake up when his alarm went off, brushing his teeth and noticing the water-stained vanity for the hundredth time, feeling inadequate because he hadn’t figured out how to fit replacing it into their budget when the Rose Apothecary expansion was looming.

But the truth was, even with all of that, sometimes he did feel happy. He’d been happy while he was planning for this trip to New York with the Roses, looking forward to seeing David with his family again and excited to see what the city was actually like with his own eyes. At times like that, it felt like depression was just in his imagination. It felt like maybe he hadn’t been depressed at all, or that he had been in the winter, but that he was over it now. But at the same time he could feel it lurking in the back of his mind, waiting for a weak moment. Telling him he was a bad son, or a bad husband, or a bad business partner. Telling him that he didn’t deserve David’s love, not when he couldn’t bring himself to get started on fixing up the bathroom.

Patrick lay awake for a long time, listening to David’s sleep-breathing, before finally falling into uneasy slumber himself for a few scant hours before waking with the early morning sun.

While David continued to sleep, Patrick pulled on some underwear and a t-shirt and shifted the curtains aside enough to look out. The view of Central Park from their room was breathtaking, and he paused to wonder how much the Roses had paid for rooms with that view. Unplugging his phone from the nightstand, he went back to the window and took a picture through the glass.

He looked from the window over to David, tousled black hair against acres of white bedding, bare shoulders on display. Patrick took a picture of that too.

After brushing his teeth and taking a shower, Patrick got back into bed to read until a more reasonable hour to wake David up. The rest of the morning passed with a leisurely breakfast and an Uber ride downtown to the Whitney Museum, which David had been talking about visiting for months. It had the added benefit of being close to Alexis’ apartment in Chelsea; they were planning to meet her later in the afternoon.

Patrick soon learned that he and David had different approaches to art museums. Patrick liked to read the placards about each painting, circling each room methodically as he went from painting to painting. David liked to take it all in for a while from the middle of the room before deciding which paintings to approach for a closer inspection, stepping forward and back as he looked for the best viewing distance. His failure to study the text about each painting didn’t mean he didn’t know things about them, Patrick quickly discovered.

“I love this one,” Patrick said as David approached from behind him.

“Mm, I knew you’d be a Hopper fan. What do you like about it?”

Patrick studied the sewing woman’s shoulders, the way her dress bunched, the prominent veins in her hand. “I don’t know, I just like it.”

David was waiting for him to say more, Patrick could tell.

“She looks delicate but also, look at her back and her arm. She’s strong.” Patrick glanced at his husband. “She reminds me of Alexis.”

David pinched his lips together, which could mean he disagreed, or it could mean he agreed but didn’t like that he agreed.

Patrick squinted at the painting again. “So what’s the meaning behind it?”

David waved his hand at that dismissively. “It’s something to do with the post-World War I isolation of the early 1920s, I seem to recall. But it means whatever you want it to mean.”

In the next room, Patrick gravitated toward a couple of strikingly colorful oil paintings of factories, criss-crossed with lines that carved out contrasting geometric shapes on the canvas. As he was reading the name of the artist, David joined him.

“Charles Demuth was gay, you know,” David said.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mm hmm. He started out doing watercolors of flowers and men in Turkish baths in the nineteen-teens and twenties. Then he switched to painting…” He gestured unhappily at the works Patrick had been admiring. “This.”

“You don’t like these,” Patrick said, although the answer was obvious.

“There’s a theory that he was attempting to shrug off the stigma of being an effeminate man with these Lancaster oil paintings. Also, the art world didn’t take his watercolors that seriously,” David said, twisting up his face like he smelled something bad, and… right. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why David wouldn’t like these paintings.

Patrick nodded, and stepped over to put his arm around David. “Do they have any of the Turkish bath paintings here?”

“Sadly, no,” David said with a smirk, still gazing at the oil paintings. “There’s also a theory that all those smoke stacks are just dicks.”

Patrick barked out a laugh.

Leaving the museum, they went to a nearby café to wait for Alexis. They sat at one of the outdoor tables, a wrought-iron railing topped with pots of white and purple flowers separated them from the foot traffic on the sidewalk. While they waited and David munched on a pastry, Patrick texted the picture he’d taken of Central Park from the hotel room to his parents, telling them that they were enjoying the trip. Then he texted a couple of the photos he’d taken of paintings in the Whitney to his cousin Justin. Justin usually didn’t respond to Patrick’s texts, but occasionally he did.

Justin 🌈: You should have gone to nyc in june for pride

Patrick realized that was a topic he’d never talked to David about. “Were you ever here for the Pride parade?” he asked.

David looked up from his book, eyebrows high on his forehead. “Sure, lots of times. I mean, I wasn’t down in the streets with the heaving mass of humanity, but I could usually get an invite to a party along the parade route, back in those days.”

Grinning, Patrick repeated, “Heaving mass of humanity?”

David scoffed. “You know how I feel about crowds.”

Patrick turned back to his phone. David doesn’t like crowds, he typed. I did learn today about a gay artist who painted a bunch of smoke stacks either to seem less gay or possibly to be super gay. Jury’s out on which.

Lol, Justin responded.

Patrick smiled at the fact that he’d achieved a successful interaction with his cousin.

“David Rose?” a voice called out, and Patrick looked up to see who was speaking. He got a quick impression of an attractive woman with a stylish haircut and clothes before he looked toward David to gauge his reaction to the approaching woman. As he watched, David put on a simpering smile, the one he used with difficult customers, and held out his hand.

“Eloise,” he said flatly. “What a surprise.”

“David, how dare you not tell me that you were going to be in town?” she said, ignoring the offered handshake and sitting down at their table without invitation. “Oh my god, how are you.” She phrased it as a statement, and Patrick doubted if she cared how David was.

“I’m very good — in town for a few days to visit Alexis.” Patrick felt David’s hand settle on his shoulder, scratching absently. “This is my husband, Patrick. Patrick, this is Eloise; she’s an old friend.”

Eloise’s eyes widened as she took Patrick in. “Hi, nice you meet you,” Patrick said.

“I feel like maybe I heard that you got married? And I didn’t believe it. David Rose wouldn’t get married, I said. No way.”

David’s eyes narrowed. “Well, I did. Two years ago.”

“But you’re not living in the city? Surely you’re not still in… where was it? Somewhere in Canada?”

Here it was, the thing that still nagged at Patrick every time David expressed displeasure with Schitt’s Creek. Every time he acted disgruntled about the lack of restaurant options, or grimaced at Jocelyn’s opinions at a social gathering. Because the reason they were ‘somewhere in Canada’ was that was what Patrick had wanted.

“Our store is in Canada, yes, so that’s where we are,” David said, and to his credit he didn’t look the least bit ashamed of that fact. His fingers continued to move over Patrick’s shoulder. “Patrick and I own a lovely cottage on quite a large plot of land out there for a fraction of the cost of a one bedroom apartment here. We love it.”

“But the culture, David. How do you live without the culture?” Eloise asked.

David smirked. “How much culture did we really take in back in the old days, Eloise? The VIP section at the hottest club of the season isn’t exactly the Guggenheim. Besides, we get back here to visit Alexis regularly.” Regularly meaning once in two years, Patrick thought, although they did intend to visit more often in the future, now that there was more money coming in from their online sales.

Eloise immediately started talking about herself, about parties she’d been to or people she’d seen. Patrick tuned her out — she hadn’t shown any interest in him and the feeling was mutual. He watched people passing by on the street, walking dogs or going quickly to jobs or moving slowly and hesitantly like tourists. Eloise quickly seemed to run out of steam, maybe because David wasn’t hanging as desperately on her every word as she wanted, and she stood from the table.

“I’ve gotta run, David, but how much longer are you in New York? We really have to catch up.”

“Absolutely,” David said, standing with her. “I’ll text you.”

They kissed in the vicinity of each other’s cheeks and Eloise loped away, her attention mostly on her phone.

David dropped back into his seat with a puff of air.

“Nice lady,” Patrick muttered.

“She’s a monster,” David said. “I’m not texting her.”

“Uh huh, I cracked that code.”

David laughed softly. “Wow, she was boring.”

“Probably not as boring as your husband, to be fair.”

That made David’s eyes flash. “You aren’t boring.”

Patrick chuckled, fiddling with a spoon on the table. “Yeah, I’m super interesting. Is it my knowledge of tax law or my books about baseball that do it for you?”

David looked a little bit hurt at that. “Everything about you does it for me,” he said seriously.

Alexis arrived at that point, interrupting them, and Patrick rose from his seat to accept her cheek kisses. David excused himself to the restroom.

Watching him go, Alexis said, “Is he okay?”

“Oh, some old acquaintance of his was just here.” He frowned; that wasn’t what had bothered David. “Actually, I think it’s me that’s been making him anxious.”

“Well, don’t do that, Patrick,” she said with a frustrated groan and a birdlike bob of her head. “Surely you know how to manage David’s anxiety by now.”

“No, I do, but…” What should he say? That he couldn’t exactly be the guardian of David’s emotions when he was struggling with his own? That he swore once, standing with David for the first time in front of their house, to make David happy, and that now he was doubting his ability to do so?

“Anyway, did you guys have fun today?” Alexis asked, unaware of his inner turmoil.

“Yeah,” he said, because he had. “David could have been an art museum tour guide in another life.”

Alexis nodded. “Because he talks too much and thinks too highly of his opinions?”

“I was going to say because he knows a lot about art, but sure, that too.”

“Well, I hope you didn’t wear yourselves out, because Mom and Dad have plans tonight and so we are going to go out and party like the young and vital people that we are.”

Patrick felt exhausted at the prospect of such an outing. “I mean, some of us are getting close to forty; I don’t know if young—”

Alexis flapped her hands. “Ugh, just David. You and I are young still.”

Laughing, Patrick consciously relaxed his shoulders. He could go with Alexis’s flow, surely. He was on vacation, after all.

Which was how he found himself a few hours later, a tiny bit drunk and grinding against David on the dance floor of a gay bar that Alexis had dragged them to. It was ridiculous and they were maybe too old for this and yet he loved it, loved getting to have this experience that he’d been robbed of by not figuring himself out sooner. Loved being sweaty and a little dizzy and watching a man with criminally nice arms dancing just over David’s left shoulder while David grinned at him.

“I love you,” Patrick shouted over the loud beat, euphoria swelling out from the bubble around him and David to encompass the other people on the dance floor and the DJ and Patrick’s sister-in-law, who appeared to be flirting with the woman tending bar.

David squeezed his ass in answer. “I’m glad you’re having fun,” he said against Patrick’s ear.

“I am,” Patrick said honestly. At a time like this, unhappiness seemed impossible.

(Chapter 4)

#schitt's creek fic #schitt's creek ff #david x patrick #david x patrick ff #david x patrick fic #my fic

[bladekindeyewear]

HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2020-05-31

Mainline upd8 before the June break.  More Terezi!  That should put me in a better mood. (1 edit (2020-06-01) since posting)

> CHAPTER 10. 1 WOND3R WH4T TH3Y T4ST3 L1K3

Wait, fuzzily waking up seeing the new planet?

Wait, why is the site background still black?

Wait, is this one of the new alien race members just created?

That would explain the chapter title.  (Especially if they were part plant, but Terezi would say that regardless, when you think about it.)

> ==>

Coming more into focus.

> ==>

Oh!  Back to the normal background.

TEREZI: W3LL

She’s not the one seeing this, so is this an alien perspective or does Rose’s visual processing take a while to turn back on post-warranty-breach?

> ==>

Huh?  It WAS her point of view?

So this:

--is just an attempt at rendering her smell-o-vision?

I know her sense of smell is supposed to be amazing, but this is MARKEDLY less paint-like than previous depictions of her smell-o-vision.  See for comparison:

Was this an intentional difference in clarity? Laziness? Her scent-vision being sharper?  They’re practically making us feel like her eyes are healed again, which would be disastrous, and not something even Ultimate Rose should necessarily be capable of.

(I’m inclined to give them less credit than usual today, though, so a poor visual choice most likely.)

TEREZI: TH4T W4S PR3TTY FUCK1NG STUP1D

Hate-screwing Rosebot?  Why?

I guess it’d leave you sore.

> ==>

TEREZI: F4LL1NG 4SL33P H3R3 1S JUST 4SK1NG FOR TROUBL3

Oh.  Are the new races - or their precursor “experiments” running around?

> ==>

TEREZI: NODD1NG OFF L1K3 TH4T UND3RN34TH 4N 4RBOR34L 4MBUL4TOR TEREZI: WHO KNOWS WH4T COULD H4V3 H4PP3N3D TEREZI: Y34H 4LR1GHT, 4LR1GHT TEREZI: G3T OFF MY C4S3 4BOUT 1T ALR34DY TEREZI: 1TS NOT L1K3 1 D1D 1T ON PURPOS3

Is Terezi talking to her other selves or something?  Or another brain ghost?

TEREZI: W3R3 JUST LUCKY TH3R3 1SNT 4NY W1ND 4T TH3 MOM3NT TEREZI: 1V3 3ST4BL1SH3D TH4T TH1S 1S WHY TH3Y MOV3 TEREZI: TH3 4MBUL4TORS 4R3 PL4NTS IN THE STR1CT S3NS3, BUT EXH1B1T LOCOMOT1V3 B3H4V1OUR DU3 TO TH31R UN1QU3 CONSTRUCT1ON

Ooh, moving trees.  Nice.

TEREZI: TH3 M41N BODY OF THE PL4NT CONS1STS OF A N3TWORK OF HOLLOW, TUB3LIKE GROWTHS THROUGH WH1CH 41R M4Y TR4V3L TEREZI: TH3S3 N3TWORKS 4R3 SO SOPH1ST1C4T3D TH4T TH3 SH1FT1NG PR3SSUR3 1NS1D3 TH3 TRUNK 4ND BR4NCH3S C4N C4US3 TH3 3NT1R3 PL4NT TO UPROOT 1TS3LF 4ND B3G1N "W4LK1NG", PROV1D3D TH3 COND1T1ONS 4R3 R1GHT TEREZI: TH1S PROC3SS, WH1L3 M4J3ST1C, C4N H4V3 DR4ST1C 3FF3CTS ON TH3 PL4NTS SURROUND1NGS

I know you like to eat them, but when did your analysis of plantlife get so clinical?  Do you have Aranea blabbing in your ear or something?

Oh.  OH, wait.  They have a Command Station.  Is Rose communicating with her remotely via that, and Terezi is just Dave-like vocalizing everything Rose punches into the terminal?  Then that would be Terezi arguing with HER out loud.  And the sudden transition of talk to “I’ve established that this is why they move.” is very Rose-sounding.

> ==>

That lil’ “hup” pose to jump over the gap Terezi’s making is adorable.  Also, those are bad failed experiments y’all have created and you should feel bad, Rose and Dirk.  (Rose is definitely to blame for this spider-bunny nightmare.)

TEREZI: HUP!

Hup

TEREZI: 1 WOND3R WH4T TH3Y T4ST3 L1K3 >:O

They look like they’d taste like bee spiders with inedible stuffing throughout.

Trolls do find grubs of most sorts appetizing though.

> ==>

TEREZI THOSE ARE NO REASON TO BE HAPPY

> ==>

Yeah, beautiful field-shot aside I feel pretty bad for that creation.  Looks miserable.

> ==>

Now they’re just mashing up consorts.  Are they TRYING to populate the planet with weird garbage for the final products to eat?  (Or fight? Hard-troll-childhood style?)

> ==>

THAT THING IS NO REASON TO LOOK SO HAPPY EITHER REZI

Gosh, at least she’s having fun though.

> ==>

You’re ignoring Onionsan, Terezi

> ==>

I wonder what lazy name this Horsisaur has.

Fun abandoned. Survival instincts fully engaged. Terezi runs.

She throws backward sniffs over her shoulder as she tears through the scrubby cling of the planet’s undergrowth, catching fractured impressions of exactly what has decided to chase her. A shuddering, 20 foot monstrosity that somehow seems to both scamper and glide, like a centipede, rustling like foliage as it moves, as if an entire goddamn forest is bearing down on her.

Between the game and Alternia, you shouldn’t be TOO rusty at this, right?

The problem with using smells to navigate the world is that the unfamiliar can be difficult to parse. Every whiff over her shoulder gives her another blurry glimpse of what this beast is.

Yeah, smell is a little slower on the pickup than sight.

Rose shared her books with Terezi when she was on the ship, and her favorite by far was the compendium of the zoologically dubious. Everything contained inside was just so unbelievably unlikely. This creature appears to be a combination of all of them.

Really? What we see of it doesn’t look THAT weird.  But we only see about half of it from this angle, so.

--Twisted ankle?  Come on, you’re not THAT rusty.

> ==>

It’s fear, pure and simple. Unsurprising, when being menaced by a monster, but it also doesn’t last for more than a second. A cold flame that instantly burns itself out, and all of a sudden she is just deeply, impossibly, indescribably tired. Down to her bones.

You’re already giving up??!?

Honestly, she really has no right to feel this... this fatigue. This crushing embrace of endless struggle. Terezi Pyrope has not had an easy life by anyone’s standards, but so much of her thirteen or so sweeps has just been standing still. Waiting. Huddling blind and half dead in her recuperacoon, the sopor burning the hideous mess that the sun has left her eyes, alight with a hatred so layered and intense that she couldn’t make sense of it.

Dammit, do we have to go SO EXHAUSTINGLY DEEPLY into EVERY SINGLE CHARACTER’S PTSD?!??

It was horrifying--that pain or fury--but also, admittedly, very boring. Then there were the sweeps on the meteor, the endless, gelatinous stretches of time in the chaos of the outer ring, searching for... Vriska, ostensibly, but also maybe just for a chance to dry up. To disappear. Go extinct.

Terezi doesn’t know if it’s an attribute of her aspect, or the sheer psychic damage of spending so long in the company of two humans with god complexes. Maybe it’s just an inherited symptom of being conscious. But sometimes it feels like none of them are going to get out of this, alive or dead.

Fuck, apparently we are.  These writers don’t know how to let up.  Can’t we get a little more retroactive dwelling on how FUN some of their lives up til now were?  And then... maybe NOT only do that to contrast with how depressed they are now??  There was SO much delight in Homestuck amidst the hardship, and if you’re going to show us more of the hardship you have to show us more of the delight, too, or everything just gets pointlessly dark.

--ah, Rose redirected the command console to point to the monster and stopped it that way.

ROSE: I am devastated to report that those are really more vines than tentacles, and even worse, they aren’t mine.

Pff.

...Poking fun at the terminology for Patron Trolls, at this late date of all times.

TEREZI: D4V3 4ND 1 H4D 4 LOT 1N COMMON B4CK TH3N, OR 4T L34ST 1T F3LT L1K3 W3 D1D ROSE: As I have come to understand it, for a while at least, we were all being steered in the right direction by a debatably benevolent force. ROSE: One imposed on us by the game itself, even if we had yet to enter it. TEREZI: ... ROSE: You don’t believe me. TEREZI: NO, 1 DO TEREZI: 1T SOUNDS 1NCR3D1BLY DUMB AND UNL1K3LY BUT SO DO3S 3V3RYTH1NG 3LS3 TH4T H4PP3NS TO 4NY OF US

Terezi, don’t you know at least half as much about Skaia as anyone else here? Isn’t that what she’s talking about?

TEREZI: SO YOU 4R3 DO1NG TH3 S4M3 TH1NGS TO TH3S3 CR34TUR3S TH4T SOM3 OTH3R CR34TUR3S D1D TO YOU 4ND YOUR FR13NDS ROSE: I suppose that is a fair assessment. Although we were not our own creators. It was John who— DIRK: I hate to break up the recap episode, but we need to deal with this situation before it gets out of hand.

Wait, she’s talking about the Exiles?  Terezi TOLD Dave about the exiles helping them.  SHE was the one who told us how that worked!  Although I guess you could chalk her questions up to her not knowing one of those “terminals” was involved.

TEREZI: 4ND HOW 4R3 YOU H3R3 4NYW4Y? DIRK: I have administrative privileges. TEREZI: YOU H4V3 4DM1N1STR4T1V3 PR1V1L3G3S TO MY P4LMHUSK DIRK: Yes.

Was Terezi dictating to her palmhusk earlier?  Why was she talking for Rose’s part of the conversation earlier, but not now?  Was that a mistake?  Or did Rose switch off the terminal, despite her apparent confusion with the terminal now???

Opinion of HS^2... dropping... keep it together stop judging the comic so hard... NOT dropping off in quality... shh brain! Shoosh!!!

(Seriously though, don’t put ANY asks in my inbox about HS^2 dropping off in quality, even as much as I’M starting to complain.  Gotta keep my hopes up to keep enjoying myself as I keep going.)

ROSE: Don’t let it get to you. My father has a habit of appearing in places he’s not wanted.

You’re seriously just CALLING him that now?!??

DIRK: I was saying that we should get Terezi down from there before continuing our mining of the core themes in our personal narratives.

Ah, that’s why you used the terminology.

DIRK: I was saying that we should get Terezi down from there before continuing our mining of the core themes in our personal narratives. ROSE: Of course. I’ll take care of it. DIRK: Appreciate it. TEREZI: 1 W1SH YOU WOULDN’T DO TH4T WH3R3 1 C4N S33 1T DIRK: Do what? TEREZI: TH4T TH1NG WH3R3 YOU G3T P3OPL3 WHO 4R3 NOT M3 TO DO WH4T3V3R 1T 1S YOU W4NT TH3M TO TEREZI: M1ND CONTROL

Oh, damn.  That was a creepy order, then.  And is Rose STILL not wise to it?  Can Terezi and Dirk just TALK about the narrative control IN FRONT OF ROSE and have her not recognize it because of said control??? :C

TEREZI: WH4T TH3 FUCK 1S GO1NG ON DIRK: You can make more boots. TEREZI: 1M NOT T4LK1NG 4BOUT TH3 BOOTS, NOOKBR34TH TEREZI: 1 MEAN TH3 M3N4G3R13 FROM H3LL DIRK: Well, we’ve encountered a couple bumps along the road. TEREZI: YOU DONT S4Y

This is fun, but I can’t help but notice that Rose has completely stopped talking.  Fuck having Dirk flaunt this even harder just ups the creepiness even more.

TEREZI: YOU GUYS R34LLY SUCK 4T TH1S DIRK: Yeah, agreed. TEREZI: ... TEREZI: WOW, TH4T W4S MUCH L3SS P41NFUL 4ND LONG-W1ND3D TH4N 1 W4S 3XP3CT1NG 1T TO B3 DIRK: What was? TEREZI: CONV1NC1NG YOU TH4T 4LL OF TH3S3 "D3S1GNS" TH4T YOU H4V3 COM3 UP W1TH SUCK SH1T TEREZI: 1 THOUGHT YOU WOULD T3LL M3 TH4T 4LL OF 1T 1S P4RT OF SOM3 "GR4ND PL4N" TEREZI: TH4T TH3Y SUCK ON PURPOS3 OR SOM3TH1NG L1K3 TH4T DIRK: Well, it is a part of the grand plan. And they do suck on purpose. DIRK: But not on my purpose. DIRK: It’s Rose. She is remarkably bad at this. Voluntarily. TEREZI: DO YOU M34N TH4T SH3 1S TRY1NG TO S4BOT4G3 4LL OF YOUR GR4ND CR34T1ONS TEREZI: OH POW3RFUL GOD PR1NC3? DIRK: No, she’s playing the game. That part hasn’t been a problem. DIRK: I mean she is just making incredibly nonsensical decisions and refusing to back down, even when I up the ante to preposterous levels. DIRK: You should see some of the shit she’s come up with. I’m pretty sure I watched a vagina on legs walk by this morning. TEREZI: 1 DONT TH1NK 1 S4W TH4T ON3 DIRK: Despite her initial resistance, Rose has gone completely feral. TEREZI: YOU M34N TH4T SH3 1S H4V1NG FUN DIRK: Yes.

You loosened her morals so she’d be conscience-free to go full zoological playground, and she’s GOING full zoological playground.  What did you expect?

TEREZI: 4ND WH4T 1S WRONG W1TH 4 L1TTL3 B1T OF FUN YOUR H1GHN3SS? DIRK: Nothing. I got absolutely no problem with having a good time while we see to the boring and altogether completely frivolous task of seeding the future of this planet. DIRK: But she really TEREZI: YOU 3XP3CT3D H3R TO B3 TH3 ON3 TO HOLD YOU B4CK, 1NST34D OF TH3 OTH3R W4Y 4ROUND DIRK: No, that's not it. TEREZI: YES, 1 TH1NK 1T 1S 1T

What?  “Holding her back”?  How did this suddenly become about Dirk’s insecurity at his ectobiological skill?

DIRK: By project, do you mean that I expect Rose to be too much like myself? TEREZI: NO, 1 M34N TH3 OPPOS1T3 TEREZI: YOU 3XP3CT H3R TO B3 B3TT3R TH4N YOU TEREZI: YOU W4NT H3R TO PR3V3NT 4LL OF YOUR WORST T3ND3NC13S. TH3 W4Y 1 US3D TO W1TH VR1SK4 WH3N W3 W3R3 MO1R41LS

--Oh, you meant hold them back from going TOO FAR.  I see.  And also, the way Terezi and Vriska were “moirails” is the WORST example, and thus quite fitting to relate to this situation.  For their brief pale stint, Terezi never really STOPPED Vriska from doing ANYTHING. She just supported Vriska, while Vriska spewed some flattery Terezi’s way... and then proceeded to do whatever the fuck she wanted. Sometimes without telling her.  It was an AWFUL example of proper moirallegiance, as I covered in the above link.

Dirk wouldn’t know about that, though.  And neither does Terezi, apparently, unless she’s just not admitting it.

(EDIT: Also, Rose never had the slightest chance of ever holding Dirk back like she might have wanted because DIRK MIND CONTROL OVERRIDES HER EVERY TIME SHE HAS RESERVATIONS. The only way a moirallegiance can work at all is if the one being held back is WILLING to listen. Dirk has deliberately and continuously suppressed Rose's ability to even THINK about dissuading him from literally any course of action.)

TEREZI: YOUR3 3XP3CT1NG ROS3 TO C4TCH YOU WH3N YOU GO TOO F4R TEREZI: SH3 1SNT GO1NG TO DO TH4T, 1 DONT TH1NK TEREZI: 1N F4CT, 1 TH1NK SH3 1S MOR3 L1K3LY TO GO TOO F4R TH4N YOU 4R3 DIRK: What makes you say that? TEREZI: 1 DONT KNOW TEREZI: JUST 4 F33L1NG, 1 GU3SS. 1 M1GHT NOT B3 4 GOD-MODD3D DORK 1N COSPL4Y, BUT 1M ST1LL A S33R TEREZI: 4ND 1 H4VE SP3NT W4Y MOR3 T1M3 W1TH TH3 TWO OF YOU TH4N 4LMOST 4NYON3 ELSE, WH1CH 1S 1NCR3D1BLY D3PR3SS1NG TO TH1NK 4BOUT

Guh.  A real pair of villains.  Is that REALLY why you brought Rose, Dirk?

TEREZI: 4NYW4Y, 1F YOU DONT L1K3 TH3 W4Y ROS3 1S DO1NG TH1NGS WHY DONT YOU JUST NOT-M1ND CONTROL H3R 1NTO DO1NG 1T TH3 R1GHT W4Y TEREZI: PROBL3M SOLV3D DIRK: I’ve made the decision to freehand this one. I’m not planning to influence Rose’s decision in any part of the contest. Otherwise it’s too easy, and barely worth doing at all.

Obviously.  And you can’t argue her down the normal way because she was NEVER someone to listen to someone like you in a direct confrontation without any misleading subterfuge.  You would’ve had to Doc Scratch it.

DIRK: So you’re saying you want me to mind-control Rose. TEREZI: NO, 1M S4Y1NG TH4T 1 TH1NK YOU 4R3 4 COW4RD TEREZI: P3RH4PS 1 W1LL T3LL H3R TH4T YOU H4V3 B33N WH1SP3R1NG YOUR STR4NG3 L1TTL3 1NC4NT4T1ONS 1N H3R 34R OV3R TH3 L4ST F3W SW33PS TEREZI: L1K3 4 CR33PY W31RDO DIRK: No, you won’t. If you were going to, you would have already.

Are you talking about the narrative mind control or are you talking about something else?  Something weirder?  Because calling them “strange little incantations” sounds like he’s been doing some creepily Doc-Scratchy grooming to her like how Doc kinda rage-controlled the trolls to write his genetic code on their walls in their most vulnerable moments.

DIRK: Unless you think I’m still projecting my "image" of what I think Rose "should" do, and she actually won’t give a shit. TEREZI: NO, 1 TH1NK SH3 W1LL B3 CONFL1CT3D TEREZI: UNL3SS YOU M1ND-CONTROL H3R NOT TO B3 DIRK: Not mind control. TEREZI: WH4T3VER!

And that’s just it.  Rose WOULD have been very conflicted about MUCH of this if you hadn’t used your narrative control to override all her inhibitions.  So instead you get the version of her who would have gone with your plans without hesitation, which is the WORST version of her.  And she doesn’t even have a choice to be better.

Alright, that’s the end of the upd8.  See y’all!  Maybe a bit after the commentary goes up for this (already has for the Influencers bonus) I’ll cover the commentary on both this and the bonus, but that’ll be in at least a few days.  Ciao

#Homestuck #hs2 #Homestuck Liveblog #upd8 #Homestuck^2 #Homestuck Theories #Homestuck Theory #spoiler #spoilers #Terezi #Dirk Strider #Rose Lalonde

[pacifv]

HE MEGA RP PLOTTING SHEET / MEME.

First and foremost, recall that no one is perfect, we all have witnessed some plotting once which did not went too well, be it because of us or our partner. So here have this, which may help for future plotting. It’s a lot! Yes, but perhaps give your partners some insight? Anyway BOLD what fully applies, italicize if only somewhat.

Mun Name: Mik      Age: 26      Contact: IM, discord

Character(s) I rp: Eden ( in bleach ) -- I have other ocs but that’s another story Which muse(s) inspires you the most atm?(for MM): Eden... ? Current Fandom(s): Bleach , so far Fandom(s) you have an AU for:  more fantasy esque ones?  My language(s): spanish , english  Themes I’m interested in for rp:   Fantasy / Science fiction / Horror / Western / Romance / Thriller / Mystery / Dystopia / Adventure / Modern / Erotic / Crime / Mythology / Classic / History / Renaissance / Medieval / Ancient / War / Family / Politics / Religion / School / Adulthood / Childhood / Apocalyptic / Gods / Sport / Music / Science / Fights / Angst / Smut / Drama / etc. Themes/Genres you have an AU for: fantasy , religious

Preferred Thread length: one-liner / 1 para / 2 para / 3+ / novella. Asks can be send by: Mutuals / Non-Mutuals / Personals / Anons. Can Asks be continued?:   YES / NO   only by Mutuals?:  YES / NO. Preferred thread type: crack / casual nothing too deep / serious / deep as heck. Is realism / research important for you in certain themes?:   YES / NO. Are you atm open for new plots?:  YES / NO / DEPENDS. Do you handle your draft / ask - count well?:  YES / NO / SOMEWHAT. How long do you usually take to reply?:  24h / 1 week / 2 weeks / 3+ / months / years. I’m okay with interacting: original characters / a relative of my character (an oc) / duplicates / my fandom / crossovers / multi-muses / self-inserts / people with no AU verse for my fandom / canon-divergent portrayals / au-versions (as main or only verse). Do you post more ic or occ?:  IC / OOC. Are you selective with following others?:  YES / NO / DEPENDS.  

Best ways to approach you for rp/plotting:  IM since this is pretty much new . just slap me with that and if you have some ideas , better --- if not let just brainstorm with what we have in hand . 

What expectations do you hold towards your plotting partner:  some minimal idea of the context and eden’s character . some ideas if possible . more than often I have gotten people straight up jump with no clue of what even is going on in my side character wise . 

When you notice the plotting is rather one-sided, what do you do?:  depends , most likely really stop trying or let it sink . I’m not much of a person who would pressure for ideas when they don’t even come naturally for me in these kind of situations . 

How do you usually plot with others, do you give input or leave most work towards your partner?:  First of all , ask what they particularly want and if they read the bio . and of course , have their bio as well ( if oc or any relevant hc on vague canons ) . I am honestly a bit shy on the input but if I found a ground to start letting my imagination loose ( like , something in common between characters or something that clicks well with my muse ) I can suggest several things . but in any case , I’m pretty passive and it’s a lot of gives and takes . 

When a partner drops the thread, do you wish to know?:   YES / NO / DEPENDS. - And why?: depends on the thread , the time and the interest . things that go downtown in the excitement scale are :/  and I can’t blame anyone for dropping a thread . not all the time you will have muse for them , tho , if it was a relevant thread I would ask at least . - What should your partner do when dropping a thread?:  pretty much free to tell me or not . I’m no one to judge.

What could possibly lead you to drop a thread?:  losing muse , interest , time ... pretty much the same . feeling like my muse is going too OOC for the sake of the other muse or smth .  - Will you tell your partner?:   YES / NO / DEPENDS.

Is communication in the rpc important to you?   YES / NO. - And why?:  I am very old school and having some OOC interaction to at least know how things are going , it’s as much as I can ask here .  - Are you okay with absolute honesty, even if it may means hearing something negative about you and/or portrayal?:  I mean , I should . it can turn me off a bit but it’s just natural ? there’s no way something can be perfect or be of someone’s taste . plus I am not that smart to be fully aware of all the things around the motif and IRL information I use on my muse . I’m no book , buddy. - Do you think you can handle such situation in a mature way?  YES / NO.

Why do you rp again, is there a goal?:  development , exploring the muse , seeing what works and doesn’t work . often new blogs for me are basically prototypes , they are and will  most likely have minor or major modifications as my imagination starts working and getting excited . besides , in the basics , you can hardly manage to cover all ( if anything ) of how one’s muse would react to X situation .

Wishlist, be it plots or scenarios:  a lot of quincy lore , come up with more personal connections with other quincies , fully develop a backstory and a post war scenario . cultural exploration  --- relationships of all kinds . 

Themes I won’t ever rp / explore:  pretty much I am fine with anything as long as we don’t cross the gross line . but I’m not afraid of the dark .

What Type of Starters do you prefer / dislike, can’t work with?: absurdly basic and with no context given . not even have an idea of what is the deal between muses . I can squeeze my brain but there is as much as i can do with little information .

What type of characters catch your interest the most?:  quirky ones , conflictive ones , most likely muses with specific motifs that spark my interest -- deepness . Aesthetically interesting ones . but overall , those who have out of the normal personalities . 

What type of characters catch your interest the least?:  personalities that doesn’t work or do not harmonize with the context of their characters . that’s all I can say .

What are your strong aspects as rp partner?:  I am.... creative ? gdi I did this meme already but it’s hard to reply these two ones. I am easily excitable . if we end up in a ship , expect me to be pampering af . I really enjoy the exploration of relations between people , emotions and psychological stuff tied around it . I do like casual and also very deep things . I’m not afraid of dealing with heavy topics . I like horror ???? also I am very into the secondary character role , as in : my muse is here to help your muse to grow or insight . that stuff . not much of a protagonist role in RPs. 

What are your weak aspects as rp partner?: I’m .... very.... sporadic . My mood is annoying esp when I’m “new” blog around kind of thing . I’m shy , even if I don’t seem so --- I get pretty anxious over details . I am impatient --- with myself . I want to do so many things at the same time I end up overwhelmed . 

Do you rp smut?:  YES / NO. Do you prefer to go into detail?:  YES / NO / DEPENDS. Are you okay with black curtain?:  YES / NO. - When do you rp smut? More out of fun or character development?:  mmmmmmmmm , both. Depends on mood and context tbh . - Anything you would not want to rp there?:  nothing I can think from the top of my head.

Are ships important to you?:   YES / NO. Would you say your blog is ship-focused?:   YES / NO. Do you use read more?:  YES / NO / SOMETIMES. Are you: Multi-Ship / Single-Ship / Dual-Ship  —  Multiverse / Singleverse. - What do you love to explore the most in your ships?:  again , I’m big mood for interpersonal relationships ( romantic or not ) , the pros and cos of certain traits , ideology clash , personality clash , anything that comes in a relation that could make it come and go .  - What is your smut tag?: unholy.

Are you okay with pre-established relationships?: YES / NO. - And what kind of ones?: all are hella okay for me . pre- est is my jam bc jesus christ the awkward first encounters make me go blue screen .

► SECTION ABOUT YOUR MUSE.

- What could possibly make your Muse interesting towards others, why should they rp with this particular character of yours now, what possible plots do they offer?:  the fact she is basically a “religious fanatic” , with a quirky personality and a questionable morality , considering she has an inner conflict between the wellness of her race and her loyalty towards yhwach . At least pre war . post war , she has a flipped personality were she is mostly bitter and more angsty but will go from fanatic to straight up hater . 

- With what type of Muses do you usually struggle to rp with?:   bland personalities ? not sure myself , Eden is pretty much ready for anything since her personality is pretty laid back . I guess I would say shinigamis in general --- since she basically is stuck inside Silbern . - With what type of Muses do they usually work well with?:  Quincies , ofc . and people who are willing to put up with her crap .

- What interests your Muse(s) in general:  the prosperity of the quincy , doing a proper duty , order , tea , annoying the fuck out of people . being eerie ....  - What do they desire, is their goal?:  the ideal world as thought by Yhwach --- later on simply for her kind to survive after losing the war and being left to their luck . - What catches their interest first when meeting someone new?:  mmm , appearance  and reactions to her witty or narcisistic comments .  - What do they value in a person?:    loyalty , uniqueness . - What themes do they like talking about?:  most likely about the order of the army , tea stuff , herself (?) , but she is also a lot for debates and insight . - Which themes bore them?:  rebellious , silly thoughts . justice related topics . anything that critics her loyalty/life style . 

- Did they ever went through something traumatic?:  the first war was enough ? most likely losing comrades --- yhwach sacrificing the quincy for power later on .  - What could possibly trigger them?:  the simple sight of anyone laying a finger of the quincy for being against their views .   - What could set them off, enrage them?:  nothing. she cannot literally , physically get angry or enraged . but if we are talking bitter , that would be completely post war and it’s just the mention of yhwach’s name or those who went to god’s palace with him .  - What could lead to an instant kill?:  invasion of silbern , chaos . 

- Is there someone /-thing they hate?:  chaos , rebels , shinigami , anyone against the quincy . - Is there someone /-thing they love?:   her race , her pride , herself .

Is your Muse easy to approach?: YES / NO. - Best ways to approach them?:  just .... come to her and say hi . she is literally wandering around silbern all the time ( quincy speaking tho ) . for others , eh ... good luck . and wait post war (?) - Where are they usually to find?:  Silbern ... then Siberia . 

Something you may still want to point out about your muse?:  She is no saint , clearly . She has a questionable sense of things like loyalty and preservation of her race . she is honestly all over the place

CONGRATS!!! You managed it, now tag your mutuals! ♥

Tagged by:  honestly stole from @skyvar​  Tagging:  no one in particular.

#🇮🇳🇹🇪🇷🇦🇨🇹🇮🇴🇳🇸 | 🇺🇳🇭🇴🇱🇾 | memes. #mik talks

[silvermarmoset]

Clara Oswald’s Wardrobe: The Eleventh Doctor Years

Yeah. You read it right. I’m back, bitches.

After a brief sojourn (like...two years) into not covering such fascinating topics as Martha’s elegance, Rose’s scrappy jeans, and River Song’s backwards-forwards style routine, I’m back to discuss Doctor Who and costume design, because we all have things we’re good at and mine is yelling about hemlines! So while we all mourn Bill Potts—please come back to the show, Pearl Mackie, I beg you honest-to-god—let’s throw in a flashback to a long time ago, and play around with CLARA OSWIN OSWALD.

One nasty bit that’s kept me from getting to this post earlier is that Clara’s series 7 arc, thanks to the fragmenting-into-ten-thousand-tiny-pieces bit, is a little hard to view from a “character/costume” perspective. Do I count Oswin as part of her, despite significant differences between "our” Clara and Souffle Girl, or do I view their costume choices separately? What about the Clara from “The Snowmen”? What about the one who ran after Tom Baker in a terrible incident of green-screen-enabled acid reflux?

Lord. Her feet don’t even hit the floor.

So after a lot of debate, I’m counting them, albeit shyly, and without extending to them the same connective layer I generally use between a character’s costume choices. They’re a part of Clara, so I can’t ignore them, but I won’t assume every choice they make extends to our Clara. After all, discussing all those Claras would just be impossible, wouldn’t it?

I know. Great segue, right? Join us, pals, for a new edition of The Companion’s Wardrobe.

When we first meet Oswin, I’m falling over myself because I love her so much. Ok, no, not really. But it’s hard to fend off the charm of this first outfit—it’s a mix of Pure Sex, Geeky Cool Kid, and Perky Sixties Air Stewardess that knocks together a couple diverse style types and leaves us unsure what her whole deal is. There’s the cheeky red dress with the asymmetrical neckline, the rose she tucks behind her ear, the sci-fi tool belt and watch, the youthful-chic sneaker-heels. It goes together, but what ties these into a cohesive character?

Uh, yeah, Os, and if you’re gonna sass me the whole post you can do it in a more productive fashion. What these posts do is analyze—not assume what the designers meant, ever, but take what we know from the dress, delete from our brains our own metas and conjectures and far-flung notions, fling whether we think it’s pretty out the window except for that one rose tyler outfit. it deserved to be sassed, and try to embrace this as Character Translated Into Dress™ (while of course letting insignificant details slide because not EVERYTHING ties into your analysis, dumbass). We’re being told something, here, or else it’s just shitty costume design.

Which is always perfectly possible.

But no, Oswin’s dress is aiming for something: perfection. Everything about this dress is right, but it’s also TOO much. Too clean. Too fun. She’s polished and pretty and happy and comfortable—and none of it could possibly be real, with a Dalek just outside the door. While most of the wrecked passengers we’ve seen in past under-siege dramas have looked a little wrecked, with a dusty spacesuit or a tattered hairstyle to prove it, Oswin’s perfect bouncy curls and scratch-free outfit signal us far before the Doctor does that something is off.

Besides the perfection of this outfit, unstained by real life’s messes, there are other hints of what Oswin’s got going for her. The bright red, like a warning signal, should hit us over the head: every other companion is a mish-mash of different hues and patterns, while Oswin reads like a stop sign. The heeled sneakers I love so much are almost kid-like, if not innocent—as is much of Oswin’s made-up life, as she calls her mum and lounges in her chair. She reads as both red-hot “NO” and a perfect, happy, straight-out-of-Pushing-Daisies “yes.”

It’s no wonder we didn’t know what to make of her the first time she showed up. She was popping into every different direction, and somehow making it work.

The next time we see her, the costumes hit us over the head with how this is the same character. Because guess what? The Lady in Red is back.

Same hair, same low neckline, but a subtler shade of red this time, all over.

I honestly don’t have a lot to say about this outfit (though it’s INCREDIBLY beautiful), except that red immediately marks Clara out as bold, and vivid, and a little bit larger than life. Remember how Rose dipped into dark reds slowly, after growing out of the safer pinks she got from Jackie? Clara’s already there, wearing blood red all over, inciting the Doctor to do something.

Until she isn’t. Count me confused.

I’ve got no answers why her bland young charge picks up her red, or why Clara suddenly wears something that departs so drastically from everything she’s coded into her dress previously. Sure, she’s in “disguise,” but isn’t she closer to her true accent now? Why align herself color-wise with the ice monsters? Why ricochet between blue/green and red to further this split personality deal?

I got no answers. Sorry, lads.

Modern Clara’s still got a touch of that “come on!” red, but it’s minimized. She’s wearing one of those light, tiny-pattern, floaty-fabric things that were SO EVERYWHERE in 2013, but that’s all we get from her. She’s a mystery, dressed in whatever’s currently in fashion, flaunting past a gravestone.

But the lady in red is never gone for long.

This is our first time with Proper Clara, and it lays out the elements of Clara’s personal aesthetic that we’ll see for quite some time. Little, adventuresome boots; black tights; a flimsy little dress with a subtle pattern; a big coat, comfortable and practical. The flying bird necklace is lovely. The skirt has the high-low hem of many skirts from this year; we’ll see one like it again. Aside from the visual shout-out to Dalek Oswin in the red dress/short boots combo, all this aligns with what little we know of Clara at this point—she’s competent at whatever she sets her mind to, she’s young, she's both adventuresome and fashionable; she’s very tidy and put-together.

I’d argue her look is still way more put-together than most normal people achieve—think of Rose’s slapdash jeans or Martha’s tank tops—but if I bite the inside of my cheeks and take deep breaths I can accept this as an outfit most TV costume designers would claim is normal, in the same impeccably-dressed “normal” vein of Iris West. It’s pretty, it’s contemporary, but it doesn’t tell me anything much.

[this briefly-seen outfit, with its cardigan and vintage-y blouse, marks Clara as a sort of pretty-librarian type, though again this look is very in with then-contemporary style.]

Which gets to the root of a problem I have with many of Clara’s outfits in Series 7. Clara is frequently accused of being “boring”—and I firmly believe this has loads to do with the way she dresses, divorced from any opinion on the writing or the plot at this point. Jenna Coleman is an engaging actress, but a lot of the costumes from this era give us a cute, ordinary woman at the expense of furthering her arc in a particular direction.

There are clues, of course. From the quality of her clothes, she’s somewhere in the middle-class range—not quite as effortlessly classy as soon-to-be doctor Martha, but not quite at Rose’s level of street style either. Clara probably reads The Guardian. Those boots aren’t cheap.

Her outfit is very well put together, though it doesn’t push any boundaries of style. Clara is always tied into contemporary fashion, from this point onwards, with her boots and jacket bringing a little frisson of tough to counter the femininity of the dress and bag. The bag’s a sharp, bossy red, and all together it kind of gives us who Clara thinks she is: perfectly turned out, girlish and flirty, tough enough to deal with a crisis, with just a small splash of opinionated red on the side. 

There’s red, again, in the flashback. (side note: how young is her dad????)

“Cold War” mixes it up, though this is still Clara: there’s the slightly flared skirt we’ve seen in the past two looks, and the tough jacket firmly in evidence. I love the buttons up the front, though, and the icy shimmer is a nice departure—a little more glam than we’ve seen before from Clara. Considering Clara thought she was heading to Las Vegas, we can see what she thinks is appropriate for a night out right now: that vaguely-retro 1950s look Taylor Swift started, with a strong streak of cute, but nothing your grandmum would hate. (Amy would have had that skirt at least 6 inches shorter and narrower.) She’s girly and tough.

“Hide” runs along the same lines. (also, bless all these full-costume promo pics.) The gentle cardigan look is back, and aside from the heels it’s all quite demure. It also looks great for the spooky tone of this episode! Incidentally, this is Clara’s third blue outfit in a row, leading me to wonder when we abandoned the vivid red Claras of earlier for these calm, cool, inward-looking young ladies. It’s almost a visual rebuke to the Doctor for seeing her only as the red adventuresses of earlier—those girls were red, sir, but this one is blue, so get your head together and consider the color symbolism.

Oh. Or fuck me for trying, I guess. That works too. Who needs consistency, am I right?

Aside from me throwing myself out the window because the red keeps coming back but I can’t figure out WHY, this dress is a lot like Clara’s others. Her favorite pair of boots is back, and it’s quite buttoned-up and modest, if a little shorter than before. And the tightrope of bold-but-girly continues to be Clara’s calling card, with the minimal jewelry keeping her just on this side of not-too-dressed-up.

It’s telling that she stands out in this episode, though: she’s in stark opposition to the cold blues worn by the Doctor and his TARDIS, a visible antagonist as these two question and frighten her about her right to belong.

“The Crimson Horror” gives us two great Clara looks, which is great because holy shit look what they did to this skirt.

I can’t quite explain what happened here, because for all the world it looks like they took apart a 1910s-style hobble skirt and  threw in a gradient underskirt for the solid reason of Why The Hell Not, but I love it despite it being bonkers-levels of  historically inaccurate.

Then there’s this.

I LOVE THIS TOO, but character-wise I really have to grit my teeth because I don’t get why Clara, ordinary girl from the twenty-first as she seems to be, would have either the knowledge or the inclination to dress her hair in the elaborate fashions of the period.  But it’s a spot-on perfect dress, with none of the historic bumbling Rose managed on her first try. It lacks the super-puff sleeves of the 1890s, but I can live with it because of those fantastic little V’s down the front. It’s perfect.

We’re back in red for “Nightmare in Silver,” and everything’s very much Normal Clara: the little heeled shoes, the slightly flared skirt, the tights and the tough jacket and the trim little collar. With stronger fabric choices, she looks more in control than ever; she’s developed slightly away from the girlishness of those high-low skirts, though that girly quality is still there in the short skirt. Her arc has not been consistently signaled so far in either silhouette or color choices, but this outfit marks Clara as being more in command than ever before.

In the finale, she’s in same silhouette as last time, but new shoes (Clara seemingly adores footwear that combines heels, boots, and little oxford-y things into one package). Compared to her first modern outfit, she’s much more visually controlled—dark-hued, geometrically patterned, no more flounce or flutter. The color scheme is much more similar to the blue/green of the governess outfit, and red’s completely vanished—she couldn’t be farther from the saucy little barmaid act in “The Snowmen.” And yet by the end of the episode, she’s shattered into her—and into a girl with spikes on her jacket, and a girl dressed like Sarah Jane Smith, and a girl and a girl and a girl and a girl.......

I can’t explain this. I’d love to say that Clara coalesces into a firm costume arc over the season, but I can’t find a clear arc without pushing my designer’s brain to untenable conclusions. Through costume, I watched Martha grow from a confident student to a warrior; I watched Rose grow from a thoughtless girl to a brave woman. River developed in ways that suggested where she was going and where she came from, despite the challenges of a plotline her costume designers couldn’t plan for. Series 7 Clara stretches my brain, and I still come up empty. Where was all that red going? Can a change so slight as “pretty girlish” to “a little less so” count as an arc? Did someone not tell Howard Burden the plot, so he couldn’t plan a clearer costume progression? What happened here????

Thankfully, Clara’s not done growing yet, though. Onto the specials!

Clara begins "The Day of the Doctor” in, again, red. I quietly scream because red can be such a dramatic and weighty color and I hate seeing it just pop up for reasons I can’t make sense of. Clara ignores my protests and hops into her adventure.

This outfit’s perfectly within the same realm as Clara’s previous gigs: heeled boots, check; black tights, check; small-print non-geometric pattern on lightweight fabric, all present sir; cheeky red and tough black jacket, reporting for duty. This outfit could have shown up any point in Series 7 and I would have accepted it. Clara’s working as a schoolteacher now (a very chic one), and the whole outfit reads as saucy and cute and just a little badass.

And then “Time of the Doctor.” Oh, I love the “Time of the Doctor” costumes. This is great. This is when Clara starts making sense.

Clara gets two outfits in this: the cheeky yellow-sweater one, and the red-plaid-skirty one. They’re both very twee and pseudo-vintage and Britishy, which is very much in Clara’s realm so far, but they take what Clara’s already had and push it—heartily, extremely, and in a way it’ll never recover from—into bold new territory.

Clara’s style has shifted in this episode. With the proud geometric plaid, the bright red hue, and the overall sharper fit, Clara has absolutely moved on from the girlishness from “The Rings of Akhaten” into something far more confident and controlled. There are significant details: the little infinity-symbols of her cardigan, the spikes on her necklace and bracelets, and the old-fashioned lace on her blouse make an unusual combo that finally distinguishes her from an H&M commercial. It’s strong and decisive, a little bit bossy, with boldness winning out over cute. Fashionable? Yeah! Modern? Always! But powerful, too, taking up the screen with tight shapes and controlled blocks of color.

The yellow sweater and leather skirt hit the same notes. The feminine flutter of early Series 7 is truly gone; without changing Clara’s style completely, the smack-you-in-the-face mustard sweater and the edge of the leather angle her away from “feminine adventuress” into “adventurer femme.” The priorities shift. It’s the signal of where Clara is going from here—into deeper, darker territory.

So, what do we take from this? Though Clara started out as a bit of a cipher—thanks to red dresses leading us in one direction, and then cute little floral pattern outfits taking us in another—over Series 7 Clara gradually came together as a bolder, more in-command character, and even started to develop a style of her own that verged beyond the norm. Where could that take us in Series 8? How will her costumes change to interact with an entirely new Doctor? Will I ever get to see that bird pendant necklace again? (yes.) Who knows! I’ll have to write a post about it!

Whatever happens, it’s going to be an awfully big adventure.

[Got thoughts & questions? Come at me! I love talking about costume, and anyway I had to edit this post extensively to even get it to post, so I couldn’t even mention things people might wonder about. LORD I LOVE COSTUME DESIGN SO MUCH.]

#UGH THIS TOOK SO LONG I HOPE IT'S GOOD #PLEASE READ+REBLOG IM DYING #dw costume design #clara oswald #doctor who #dw series 7 #dw series 8 #costume design #costume analysis #clara #doctor who costuming #companion's wardrobe #dw #dw meta #doctor who meta

[operaforthelayman]

Eugene Onegin

U-jean O-nay-gen Difficulty: ★☆☆☆☆ First performed: March 19 1879 at Maly Theater in Moscow Russia Who did it: Tchaikovsky

Here’s a bit of background:

It was first performed by students in 1879. The professional opening was January 29 1881 at the Bolshoi theater 

It’s based on a verse novel (long poem) by Alexander Pushkin

It’s kind of a splice of multi-scenes in one person’s life rather than a straight continuous story

Themes: Love, Coming of age, Russia

Fun Tidbits: 

Mahler once conducted this opera!

Eugene Onegin has been performed in Czech, Italian and English

Tchaikovsky kept most of story the same but shifted the main focus to emotions and more specifically Tatiana.

Our Major players ♪ Tatiana: Also called Tanya. Youthful, kinda angsty, but super smart brunette. ♪ Olga: Tanya’s little sister. Bubbly giddy, care free blonde. ♪ Lensky: Olga’s boyfriend, love-dovey poet. ♪ Onegin: Titular character, debatable main character. SUPER angsty and blasé. Too cool for school bro

Act One

Scene 1

We open in the garden of Tatiana’s house. Larina, Tatiana & Olga’s mum sits with their childhood nurse, Filippyevna. Inside the house, the two sisters are heard together singing a love song.

 Larina listens in and begins to reminisce about a sweetheart she had before marrying her now deceased husband.

  She is interrupted by a group of peasants singing on their way home. They stop to entertain the Larina family with a lil’ SHOWTIME!  It’s a fun party tune about two lovers.

 When they are finished, Tatiana sighs to herself causing her sister to shit on her dreamy-emo-melancholic nature.

  Larina send the peasants away with some wine and Olga points outs how pale Tanya is looking these days.

  Tanya eases their fear telling them, “I’m just reading a mad interesting book. Don’t worry.”

 Larina scolds her slightly for being so dreamy all the time and reminds her that life is not like the fiction novels she reads.  Olga shuts them both up pointing out the window that her BAE, Lensky has finally arrived but he’s not alone… The two men enter the house and Lensky introduces his mysterious tag along as his homeboy, Eugene Onegin.

  Tanya is instantly smitten with his tall, dark, and moody atmosphere.

  The boys have an aside in which Eugene ask which one Tanya is and then ridicules Lensky for picking Olga instead of Tanya. He actually tells Lensky that Olga’s face resembles a stupid moon. Lensky for some reason isn’t offended. But whatever.

  Tanya’s on the other side of the garden with Olga blushing and whispering about how handsome and attractive Eugene is.There’s a WONDERFUL quartet and when it breaks, Lensky and Olga run off to have some private time, leaving Tanya and Onegin together.

Their fucking banter is painful awkward because Tanya becomes a bumbling smitten school girl and Eugene Onegin is playing it TOO cool.

 In contrast Lensky share this super cute love letter with Olga.

None the less, Tanya is still smitten with him and scene one ends with Filippyevna noticing the sudden change in her.

Scene 2

Tanya sits in her room with Filippyevna who tells her it’s time for bed. Tanya is restless and ask Filippyevna to tell her stories about her younger days of being in love. She starts to tell and realizes Tanya isn’t even paying attention! She begins to worry about her because Tanya’s all red and flushed. Filippyevna begins to think she’s sick but Tanya spits out SHE’S IN LOVE.

  She asks for a paper and pen and is left alone with her thoughts.

  Now is the very famous letter aria that seems to go on forever.

  Tanya stays up all nights writing a thousand drafts of a love letters to Onegin.

  (We’ve all been there girl.)

She finishes it in the early morning and nervously gives it to Filippyevna to giver to her grandson to deliver!

Scene 3

It’s the next morning in the garden, there’s a bit of a ditty from servant girls pickin’ fruit.

Tanya sits exhausted and nervous on a bench. ONEGIN IS IN THE BUIDLING!!!

 She shits herself nervously regretting her lack of self control and he sneaks up behind her mad cool like. He’s like “Hey.. You wrote me this letter. Don’t deny it.”

 And she’s like “UHHHH??” hahahaha.

 Onegin continues telling her that her letter has stirred emotions he hasn’t felt in hella long… BUT HE CONTINUES (THEY ALWAYS CONTINUE) with a fabulous aria that breaks my heart every time, he tells her that he was not meant for married life, in fact he would be hella bored by it. He tells her he loves her…..like a brother, leaving her with a kiss and the advice of not being too open with her emotions because others may not be as kind as he.

 Tanya watches him leave, flushed red and mortified.

Act 2

Scene 1

It’s been a few months and we’re at Tanya’s name day. For the Americans in the crowd, name day is the feast day of a saint after whom a person is named. It’s common in Europe and some people have told me it’s even more important than birthdays. The towns people sing her praises ; Onegin invites her to dance but grows annoyed after hearing the whispers of gossip from the townspeople. He gets annoyed at Lensky for dragging him to the party and decides to fuck with him by asking Olga to dance.

  Lensky gets pissy but Olga laughs considering Onegin’s invitation has harmless flirting. The two go off to dance, while Lensky literally has a childlike meltdown in the middle of the party. (Like wtf dude, I know that your girlfriend but it literally is just one dance…) At the end of the ONE dance, Olga returns and Lensky freaks the fuck out on her, claiming she embarrassed him. He grows jealous of Onegin and claims that she keeps ignoring his invitation to dance but she has refused. (Again…it was one dance…)  Olga reassures him that Onegin was just playing and there is no reason to be jealous. Lensky begins to cool down, but Onegin decides to be a dick again and joins the couple.

  Lensky ask Olga to dance with him again, but Onegin cuts in and insist she must dance with him. She decides to dance with him again, punishing Lensky for his crazy jealous behaviour.

  Just then Monsieur Triquet joins the party, he’s Tanya’s French tutor from back in the day and this part of the opera is virtually useless plot wise. But interesting operatically, Triquet sings in FRENCH! While the rest of the opera is in Russian! I’ve always found that fun. Sometimes this aria is sung by Lensky but that’s improper staging. The little song Triquet sings is about how wonderful Tatyana is and she kinds of sits embarrassedly.  (Think, you at your birthday party while they sing happy birthday!)

   At the end of Triquet’s song, there is more dancing and FINALLY Onegin returns Olga to her seat, where Lensky has been sulking. Onegin trolls him with a, “Ohhh why the long face??” And Lensky blows up, claiming that he’s a hoe for wanting both sisters. By this point he’s shouting and everybody at the party stops dancing to watch.

 Onegin calls him crazy which makes Lensky even more furious and he dramatically declares that he and Onegin are no longer friends. The language is so childish and hilarious, even Onegin doesn’t consider him serious. He urges Lensky to calm down, which duh makes Lensky even more angry. He challenges Onegin to a duel the very next day! He storms out, ending the party.

  Scene 2

Lensky sits in the woods the next morning, waiting for Onegin.  Zaretsky, Lensky’s neighbor, a duel enthusiast and witness for the duel is like “wtf is this dude Onegin.”  

 Lensky reassures him he will be here, and lets his mind wander to the better days of his youth. (Btw, they’re like fucking eighteen or so at this point.)

Finally Onegin shows up. They sing a lil’ duet about regretting that it’s come to this. It’s kind of sad because this whole thing started so stupidly. But long story short, Onegin pops a cap in Lensky’s ass. And the act ends with a Onegin weeping over his bro’s dead bod.

Act 3

Scene 1

 The curtains rise and we’re in the middle of a huge fucking party. It’s been a couple years since that morning in the woods.

 The party is in full swing, but Onegin stands off to the side, mad bored.  He sings an aria basically saying, “I’m a loser. I’m 25. I have no wife, no career!”  He’s spent the past years traveling and looking for life fulfillment but has failed He’s been wandering thru life aimless and depressed since killing Lensky.

 The party attendees do a lil’ dance and as it ends, Tanya enters with her new husband, Prince Gremin. The guest excitedly greet the pair,  and Onegin’s like, “Hold UP. IS THAT TANYA????”

 Across the room, Tanya’s like, “ONEGIN???”

 Onegin ends up talking to Gremin and ask the identity of the mysterious women he is with, Gremlin’s like, “Oh? Tanya? My wifey. We’ve been married for two years. Do you know her??

 In a cold sweat, Onegin says they used to be neighbours back in the day.

 Gremlin then sings this huge long aria about how much he loves Tanya and it’s mad awkward because Onegin just kind of stands there. By the end, Gremlin brings Tanya over and introduces the two.

 The exchange between the old pair so fucking cold, you would think Tanya’s a damn Vulcan.

They exchange small talk for a few seconds then Tanya tells Gremin she’s tired and they bounce.

 Onegin watches them leave and reminisces about the past and then suddenly realizes, “OH FUCK. I’M IN LOVE WITH HER.”

 Be sure to note the letter scene motif returns in this scene!!!!

  Scene 2

 Tanya sits at home, holding….A LETTER. Not hers from all those years ago, BUT A NEW ONE FROM ONEGIN! He has written her asking to meet.  She’s trouble because despite his boorish behaviour in the past, he still makes her feel some type of way.

 Onegin arrives, passionately, desperately and intensely. They stand staring at each other and the sexual tension is so strong you could feel it in family circle standing room.

 Finally, Onegin falls to the floor in front of Tanya’s feet.

 And she’s like, “ enough stop that. Do you remember that time you lecture me in the fucking garden?”

Onegin apologizes and ask her to spare him, BUT SHE CONTINUES,

“Yeah I was younger then and probably a better person. I loved you and what did I get? NADA. You were A DICK,  but y’know what I’m a bigger person. I won’t blame you. But what’s your problem, why coming for me now? BECAUSE I’M RICH AND FAMOUS? BECAUSE I’M TAKEN???”

 Onegin explodes back, telling her that he’s sorry and does love her and that he was a fool. Tanya begins to weep and the pair embrace each other. They both speak of the happy moments they shared in the distant past.

  Onegin ask Tanya to run away with him. It’s sweet and intense. But Tanya says no. He begs and begs, and begs!!! Tanya says no, but she does admit she still loves him.

 Onegin is thrilled and again encourages her to leave her husband. Tanya stands firm and says no.

This happens like 3 more times, and then Tanya’s like OK ENOUGH.

 She walks out, her last words: “FAREWELL FOREVER.”

 Onegin falls to the floor and succumbs to his horrible empty fate.

#tell it like it is #eugene onegin #opera tag #opera #tchaikovsky #pushki