#“him and porter have always been a duo”

[sapphicmuppet]

I’m sorry as of now in the series Jace Stardiamond they could never make me hate you. Bro has been so stressed this year literally let him be evil as a treat. He’s a single mom who works two jobs and loves his kids and never stops with gentle hands and the heart of a fighter. He’s a survivor.

[rooolt]

actually so obsessed with Jace Stardiamond now bc literally what’s his deal. Like Brennan says that he and porter have “always been a duo” so has he been shatterstarred since freshman year? Has he been in on the plan but didn’t get shatterstarred until spring break sophomore year? Does he believe in porter and want him to be a god? Are they fucking? Like truly what is your motivation dude

[zukkacore]

"Why do you like Starbreaker?"

me, internally: The themes introduced by Porter's godhood and Jace's servitude toward him are genuinely interesting. So much of Junior Year concerns itself w/ fairness n personal autonomy n devotion n worship n making your own meaning. The idea that Jace and Porter "have always been a duo" n the fact that Brennan has been holding onto this reveal since SY means that Jace was retooled to exist FOR porter. Porter's quest for godhood eclipses anything else that could have mattered about jace, his purpose becomes serving Porter on both a textual n meta level. On both levels he is contorted into someone alien to himself. Even though he is a character with few lines, Jace's voice in freshman year compared to Junior year feels distinct, he sounds younger, he sounds like he's looking for connection, he honestly sounds like a pretty recent hire, and in that context is it not pitiable what happened to him? Does that not make him similar to Sandra Lynn, a young person who was exploited by someone older than her and who uses religion as a tool for control? And yet the tone over and over again treats him with ambivalence in a world that is obsessed with fair. The text over and over again wants to reiterate this idea of characters getting to make their own meaning, but what does it mean to be a sequel to someone else? To be a footnote in their vision? Jace's life is a decision a GM made, he is Porter's sequel on a textual and meta level. He is continually denied interiority within the text (perfect example is sophmore year where teachers are not allowed to be hirelings when Jace is proposed than an immediate workaround is made for Gilear to come with the Bad kids). He never had a choice but to be a follower to the god of war because the other option was deathly silence, a prop or a martyr like Lucy or Yolanda. Is being remembered fondly and uncomplicatedly despite your flaws but being deathly silent better than being corrupted? The question of Jace's motivation is continually left unanswered n in that, part of the Starbreaker thought experiment is wondering how exactly Jace slots into this Plan, into Porter's life. He could simply be a lackey, sure, but is being forced to be a lackey for a god not in a way its own form of worship? To imagine Jace's subservience to Porter as a kind of love, a kind of toxic old man yaoi if you will, is maybe a way to play at a world where he gets a sense of purpose, or some kind of love in return, even if that life is fucked n compromised n broken, because he was asked "do you want this life" n he said yes. What does it mean to be a person who is contorted into villainy without a choice when the very undercurrent of your world is telling everyone else "there's always a choice!"? When the text condemns you for evil if you only ever can exist as a tool? Before Porter became Jace's world, he was practically egoless, no matter what tone his dialogue takes on. Every scene he's in, he's w/e the situation demanded of him, taking up no oxygen in the room w/out even a memorable gimmick to make him distinct n funny. Pure function. It wasn't a big life but it was his. Was wanting to live, being content to be a footnote to the Bad Kids the sin that condemned Jace stardiamond? Or was wanting to live even if he no longer was recognizable to himself the sin that condemned him? Or is it the fact that he enables cruelty, and is that fair when characters who are horrible in their own ways get a pass as long as they are fun and funny and memorable? Is his life better now that he is more of a presence in his cruel and twisted but albeit slightly more memorable state, if his life now condemns him to be hated forever? Does Jace get power from his deal with Porter? Is getting a time in the spotlight of the narrative its own form of power? Is Jace happy serving Porter? Would Jace be happy loving Porter? Did Porter give jace new life by destroying the old jace, by making sure all paths lead straight back to him? Is Starbreaker just our way of trying to say imagine Jace Stardiamond happy?

what I say: haha idk toxic co workers fucking is hot

[the-solitary-child]

Kipperlily Copperkettle analysis, this is a long one so click read more to read all of it.

Kipperlily Copperkettle. Halfling Rogue. 

The Model Minority.

Her parents work good jobs, respectable jobs. One of them is a realtor, they are charismatic and good with words and they work hard. Hard for their family, hard to keep things in order. The other works in bastion city, away from home and with the council of chosen. A noble job, one that is met with praise and awards. It is a good job, a respectable job for the greater good.

Her family is good. Her family is picture perfect, with two parents and a kid and a white picket fence.

She must be perfect, for her sake, for her parents sake. Halflings are kind. Halflings are sweet. They get along with everyone. They are peacemakers, so much so that humans and elves could come and take solace from them. Years of bloody history and violence brews in her veins, and she is supposed to be complicit and smile and act kind. She does so for her parents sake, with a slicked back ponytail and a perfect uniform and a smile too big, too unnerving.

I’m sure people tried to dissuade her, telling her that she wouldn't find more comfort in something different? Maybe a job as a clerk or a secretary, or an artificer so she could help build things for people. She has her mind set though, with her nails digging into her palms to control the bitter rage that boils in her as she is only ever underestimated. 

High school starts and it's supposed to be a new beginning. She will find her party, and she will make friends. And she does, sort of. The High Five heroes she calls them, setting herself up as the leader. She has to take control of everything. They don't really listen to her though. Oisin and Ivy are immediately their own little duo, as are Ruben and Lucy, although Lucy has made a point to include Kipperlily too, and Mary Ann just acts uninterested in everything thus far. She has to make sure everything is perfect. A fight happens during the first day of school. It results in two students death, and makes the principle commit murder suicide on both himself and the counselor in order to bring two students back. Maybe that's where it started, the jealousy and the burning hatred and the obsession. Maybe it started a little earlier that day, when Riz handed out his business cards, and Kipperlily took it. Saw his name, maybe even wanted to be friends at first. Maybe he was too busy with the case of missing penny luckstone, maybe he was too busy with the friends that seemed to care about him. Maybe Kipperlily was jealous that his party actually cared about him, whilst hers only tolerated her at best.

I think that's where it started. The jealousy, the obsession. Her anger got worse, nails digging into skin and drawing blood. She is just so angry. She has always been angry, rage and spite boiling in her blood. Her parents said she came into the world not crying but screaming, like existing in this very world hurt her. She studied him. She learnt everything about him as the year went on and she felt shame. Burning, red shame. She started seeing the new counselor in hopes of getting help. She knew this wasn't normal. She was just so angry and had nothing to do with all this rage and fury. So she talked about it, how she was jealous of him. How he got the perfect adventurers story, a dead dad and a party full of people who cared. Her parents were normal. They were perfect, blended in perfectly. They were kind and sweet and polite and possibly never home because they have busy jobs. Busy respectable jobs. They were respectable people and nothing more because the world would never allow them to be anything more.

One way or another, Porter hears of a halfling rogue with rage in her veins. One way or another he approaches her, tells her that he will help her. He sees her potential, he sees just how great she can be. Kipperlily believes him. She trains with him, learning from him, hooked on to every word of praise he gives her. She is special, she is meant for something great, this school is just unfair and hands out blatant favoritism and she has to stop it. 

Kipperlily takes the rage star, lets it fall into her chest and every petty grudge, jealousy and dislike simply turns to wrath and hatred. She gets her party to join her too, leveling them up with the help of porter and jace. She kills them. She stands over their bodies as rage stars are forced onto their chests. As their corpses are violated and they are brought back just as angry as she has always been. Kipperlily feels no guilt, this is what she is meant to do Porter tells her. She is meant to bring greatness.

Lucy is the only one who doesn't come back. That hurts her, in a way different to anything she has ever felt. Lucy always had her back, always had her side when the party was ganging up on her. Lucy was the only one who understood what it was like to be put down and underestimated. But..she stayed dead. She decided being dead was better than being with her. 

Kipperlily tries to move on but sorrow and rage just burn deep within her.

The rest is history. But one thing is clear, rage has always festered in the heart of Kipperlily, and when she tried to get help, when shame burned in her veins at how childish her rage and jealousy was, she was failed by the people she was supposed to trust. Her rage was used as a weapon, both against her and against others. She was told she would do great things, that she is special and her spite and jealousy was used in order to get her to do things had her teachers not failed her, maybe she wouldn't have done.

Kipperlily will forever have the blood of her friends, of her party members, on her hands. She will never get rid of that shame, it will stain her hands, it will stain her legacy. She is nothing more than a villain in the history books now, when in reality she was a teenage girl who was failed over, and over again. She was a teenage girl who felt rage, and felt ashamed of her rage because she was told she needed to be kind, complicit. A sweet halfling girl, something she never was and never will be. 

[highfiveheroes]

HELLLOOOOO one and all and welcome back to another fantasy high stan blog! i’m your humble shitposter ben/benji/jam/etc and here with me as always is my proper introduction list with fics included. say hi, facts and fics!

(hi, facts and fics!)

26 (minors please dni, be safe on the internet)

he/they/xe (please refrain from using feminine terms towards me in any capacity, including sis or girlie)

D20 ARTISTS FOR PALESTINE IS LIVE! donate to palestine and get a commission from some of your favorite artists and writers and editors :)

IN PROGRESS! now i breathe flames each time i talk verse (52,585 words, 3 fics, incomplete)

> now i breathe flames each time i talk—The Rat Grinders vs. Junior Year.

> i would have died for your sins, instead i just died inside—Jace Stardiamond doesn’t like not being Porter’s favorite.

> love doesn’t discriminate between the sinners and the saints—Buddy Dawn isn't sure how to cope with pretty emo boys who write him songs.

NEW! is this love or mass extinction? (2,229 words, 1 chapter, might be complete)

> Gorgug Thistlespring is having a very bad senior year.

what came before won't count anymore (12,871 words, 2 chapters, incomplete)

> Eleven years after the disaster that was the end of his Junior Year, Pastor of Helio Buddy Dawn is faced with the chance to go back to Elmville for his ten year reunion. And it shouldn't be such a daunting offer, except Buddy Dawn has never learned to keep his heart off his sleeve, and mistakes have always been his boone.

my goodness, you're bleeding (what a wonderful feeling) (50,125 words, 10 chapters, complete)

> Baron joins the Rat Grinders and their boyfriend at the Aguefort Adventuring Academy, and all hell breaks loose.

kristen applebees character studies (6,095 words, 3 fics, incomplete)

> a selection of kristen applebees and her friends

they’re best friends, your honor (10,487 words, 4 fics, incomplete)

> kristen and gorgug fics because they’re the most underrated duo i know

in spite of the way that it is (1,709 words, one shot, complete)

> Kipperlilly is alone.

this cage was once just fine (2,138 words, one chapter for now, incomplete)

> Buddy Dawn is not a sinner, thank you very much.

[t4tozier]

👽 and 💝 for jace and porter?

omg how did i miss this one okay let's do it

quirk hc:

i did one for porter already but he's a quirky guy. quokki guy.

you will never catch porter with dirt on his shoes. it's a product of his paladin training; somehow, no matter where he goes or how long he wears them for, his shoes are always spotless. he has a cleaning kit that he brings everywhere with him during his free period you can find him polishing his boots.

jace prefers to stand over sitting but if he has the opportunity to sit on a counter or somewhere where he can kick his feet he prefers to do that instead. he's such a bad hoverer when they're at ruben's house he'll just stand in the threshold like no please. continue. i'm just hanging out.

love language hc:

porter's love language is quality time. he won't admit it, but he misses jace when he's not around and makes up excuses to spend time around him. he'll text jace at 2 am like u up but in like a hey wyd i miss u way. but ofc jace will read it in a fuckboy way. they do usually end up fucking when they're together for any extended period of time because porter refuses to tell jace that he just wants to be in the same room as him.

you would think jace's love language is physical touch. and you would be right. that's how he shows it, anyway. "always a duo"? yeah that's because jace literally always wants to be at porter's side. touching him, kissing him, fucking him. the first and only time they've ever spooned jace felt shrimp emotions.

what he really wants, though, is acts of service. he's so used for people making him do things for them, and with porter, it just becomes kind of another part of jace's normal routine. fall in love, get used, get hurt, rinse and repeat. but then porter starts helping him clean his house when his magic has him too wired to concentrate (paladin), washes the dishes that have been in there for too long, brings jace breakfast in the morning because he knows otherwise he's surviving on nicotine coffee and a dream, and jace doesn't really know what to do with that.

[cybertron-after-dark]

oooo kimmie, can you tell us about the tfa and rb overlap?

Everyone prepare yourselves bc the floodgates are opened and now I'm never going to shut up about this

In a meta context, there's SO much overlap between the shows. A lot of the same people worked on it, especially the writers, and it 100% shows. Mr. Marty Isenberg you are not slick.

In terms of the actual content of the shows though, the similarities are overflowing.

First and foremost, the emphasis on cultural differences and exchanges with the human-bot relationships. TFA had a good bit of it and it was very very fun every time it happened (bots not really knowing what level of self defense is appropriate to teach a child, being very confused about what exactly humans eat, bee picking up video games, bulkhead picking up art, ALL that good shit), but you don't always get to focus on it with all the action and political intrigue going on. And while rescue bots has its share of intensity, there's a lot more space for the mundane interactions. Blades being tv obsessed, the bots celebrating Allspark day, boulder's love of just Everything on earth. They had a whole episode just about teaching the bots to fish.

There's also the fact that everyone on griffin rock is a little bit Unhinged in a lot of the same ways the humans kicking around Detroit are. Just. Vaguely Weird Vibes in very funny ways. And the same tendency to switch from revering the emergency services which they may or may not know the bots are part of to wildly distrusting them on a dime. Optimus would not leave an encounter with Mrs Nederlander unscathed bro. I don't know if any of the bots could.

Speaking of humans, the villains in rescue bots feel like what the tfa human villains could have been if not for being wildly overshadowed by the decepticons. Evan and Myles? I think you mean Henry Masterson's shitty cousins he only interacts with through the CoD lobby. Madelyne Pynch? That's just girlboss Porter C. Powell. Quint Quarry? Sir that is Master Disaster if he existed for more than like two minutes of a singular episode and bagged more than one bot. Dr. Morocco? Meltdown but better at, like, everything (especially lab safety).

Then there's the constant state of both teams grilling the hell out of each other All The Time. Chaotic. Absolute Creechurs. They love each other so much but they also all live in close contact and see each other all the time and thus they are So Mean To Each Other (though they're a bit meaner in tfa just bc older audience)

The Sumdacs and the Greenes being two duos of an absentminded but well meaning technological genius and his intelligent and Highly Cool pigtailed daughter who both have to deal with the dad's tech going completely out of control is pretty on the nose too. (Oh God now I'm just imagining an au where tfp starscream successfully gets rid of Megatron after the space bridge explosion and sends him hurtling towards earth and crashlanding right on griffin rock whee doc green finds his head. Can you imagine. The misery of tfp Megatron having to deal with a human. He's having several mental breakdowns, 100%)

Even Cody and Sari have a lot of similarity as characters. Cody is a lot more mild mannered compared to the absolute Gremlin that is Sari, but they both still struggle a lot with wanting to help but feeling too small to make an impact, even though they matter so much more than they could ever know. They're surrounded by heros, giants, and it's hard for them not to feel like they're fading into the background. And when both their families realize how they've been making those kids feel they put so much effort to make sure they're loved and feel like their efforts matter. It's the same arc in different forms. And it's so good both ways.

Overall they're both shows that feel like they're trying to say similar things to different audiences. That Earth is wonderful and worth protecting. That any effort can make massive differences, even if you don't feel like you can do enough. That a hero can come from somewhere humble, and the best ones usually do. That people deserve kindness and a genuine effort at understanding. That nobody is without value.

And honestly? That what I love most about both of them.

[fedorabender]

The Shaw packmates and Darlin'

Alvaro, Chadara, Javonie and Karthris

Alvaro(baaabe)

they/them(amab)

anxious mess.

childhood best friends with Chadara(Angel)

Afro-Latina, they speak fluent Latin

5'6 wish they were a little bit taller... they wish they were a baller

Alavaro and Treasure(Porter's listener) are siblings for oc lore reasons

You can't be straight if you have no definite gender silly, idk what you are, though

Chadara(angel)

She/her(trans fem)

A ball of chaos.

Childhood best friends with Alvaro(Asher's mate).

5'2- she did not win the gene lottery gng

Indian heritage. She's pretty disconnected from her culture but she's been reconnecting with her roots, expressing it without shame because there was nothing to be ashamed of. can speak Punjabi-not well but it's getting there

Guy and Chadara are siblings!!!

Chadara does free-style ice skating and wishes to go professional one day.

It took Chadara 15 years to grow out her hair. She rarely ever cuts it

She used to dress very feminine because she had the assumption that if she wasn't as feminine as possible, she wouldn't be seen as a woman. So she didn't go to the gym, didn't wear pants, and didn't speak much, neither was she sexuality active(she hasn't gotten surgery). But when David came into her life, he helped her ease some of that anxiety, letting her know that whatever she does, she will always be a woman.

as straight as the pansexual flag pole

Javonie(Darlin')

he/him(trans masc)

isolated and weary

Trying to get Chadara to leave him alone, but that woman won't budge. if she wants a friend, she will get a friend. Chadara also takes Javonie Ice skating with her, and he is surprisingly good at it. they are a dynamic duo on the ice.

6'3-tall, dark and beefy, awwoga

Nigerian!! moved from Abuja to Dahlia (I seriously have no clue where this is) when he was 5 and was in the foster system frequently. The longest family he's stayed with was the Shaw pack. He speaks Yoruba and Igbo but not as often anymore since he barely knows anyone who speaks those languages.

"Are you a home essential?" "....a what? "..a homosexal"

Javonie is David's awkward foster sibling!!! (in my oc lore)

Karthris(sweatheart)

genderfluid in a magical way(switch between similar forms effortlessly) he/her/them

Ethiopian-fluid in Somali. whenever they meet up with Javonie, they try to convince him to cook something cultural. Still, Javonie doesn't budge, so they cook their cultural foods for him instead.

Extra for no reason, whatsoever.

developed their powers from a ~trauma response~(more lore, but i don't know if I'll have the energy to post)

6'4- humungous jugaloos in every form(enby, masc, fem, all)

beeee whoo youuuu arreeeee! He saw, she conquered, they came

[whoblewboobear]

I wonder if Porter views killing Jace differently bc he resurrected him. On the bad days, Jace can’t help reminding Porter that him killing him and taking away his agency for a year was fucked up and it’s something he can’t just /get over/ meanwhile when Porter is in just as bad a mood he throws back that he always intended to bring him back and that Jace is exaggerating.

It’s always the topic that sets them off the most and ends in a screaming match or a full on brawl. Jace never throws spells at Porter that will outright kill him, but he does aim to hurt Porter. And Porter lets him, but he tries to restrain Jace to get him to stop. Either it ends in Porter being downed and Jace leaving for a few days or Porter getting Jace to stop and holding him while he cries.

It’s hard in first few months and honestly the year or two after they’ve both been resurrected and reunited. It’s so goddamn hard but they keep coming back to each other. Eventually it gets drilled into Porter’s head that he murdered Jace and regardless of what came after, Jace still carries the weight of that betrayal and that death. He apologizes and knows it’ll never be enough. Jace forgives him and when the bad days roll around again, they talk it through. They talk and feel whatever emotions come up and they stop letting it come to blows or end in screaming matches.

Jace has fought and kicked and screamed enough, he found his own anger and reclaimed his own rage. He’s just wants to be better. He wants to love Porter without flinching when he pulls out his war hammer.

Porter starts keeping it in the shed, switches to a different weapon for entirely. He doesn’t like seeing Jace scared when he wields his favorite weapon, he’s willing to give it up for Jace’s comfort.

Jace appreciates it, he tells Porter so. He makes sure to tell Porter that he’s glad he’s trying, he doesn’t have to, but he knows the guilt eats his love alive these days. It’s a testament to how far they’ve come, how far Porter has come from telling him his death wasn’t a big deal. Porter also wastes no time to tell Jace how happy he is he’s alive. He likes to document their time together through pictures and videos even if they’re always blurry and so poorly taken. It’s something.

Their home is teeming with pictures now on every walls and every surface. On bigger occasions, Jace makes sure to set up the camera so the shots will come out nice for holiday cards. He stars scrapbooking them as well in secret. When he gifts it to Porter for their five year anniversary, Porter cries. Wrapping Jace up in his arms, absolutely wailing about how much he means to him.

There are still bad days, but they’re few and far between. Outshone by the good, the calm, the blissful. They exist, and sometimes they still do talk about it, trauma comes in waves for Jace. After 10 years they only lap at his feet instead of cresting high above his head like they used to.

Porter sits quietly with his thoughts on the porch of their new home while Jace and their little girl do arts and crafts at the kitchen table. He writes letters to his old self that one day he’ll be kinder, softer, more understanding. Patient. He will get there in time. And Jace will be by his side and one day he’ll feel gratitude instead of immense guilt. He won’t look at Jace and want him to kill him too. An eye for an eye.

They’re dads now, well past the days of hurting each other as a form of therapy. It never worked anyway. Love worked. Talking worked. Waking up every day and choosing each other worked.

There isn’t a day where he doesn’t wake up and choose the life they’ve made together. By the time they’ve adopted their son, it’s been another five years. 15 since they convened in the Aguefort cafeteria. Since they were young and dumb and didn’t know what they were getting into with each other. That years down the line, they’d still be a duo.

Showing up to dance recitals and little league games, going to PTA meetings. A united front, always a duo. Partners in crime, parents, life partners, and lovers. Choosing each other.

[housesunstone]

Tell me more abt lucy and ruben 👀👀

You dont have to ask me twice!!!

Again this is all my own personal headcanon as semi-influenced by what we know as canon (this might also be used in a fic i might or might not be working on) I do not speak for official rat grinders lore

Lucy and Ruben first met in middle school (I think that is what it is called, not a thing where I am from). They were both partnered up in some class assignment. Lucy invited Ruben over so they could work on it after school, Ruben, being super chill and laid back, agreed. About half the project got done that night they just talked the rest of the time

After that, it was weird to see Lucy and Ruben without each other; they were a duo: her soft, kind, deeply caring soul and her laid-back, go-with-the-flow, caring best friend. Everyone just knew wherever Lucy was; Ruben wasn't far behind. If Ruben was somewhere, you could be sure Lucy was also there

When Ruben started his band, it was just him playing his ukulele; he was known for making a song out of anything. One day during lunch he just made a song up about Lucy on the spot. The better he got the more people wanted to make music with him, and Lucy was his number one fan since day 1.

Lucy would always go to all of his band practices, hang out in his basement and cheer the band on between songs. All of the others who were allowed to watch band practice shared a bowl and vibe. But it was always Lucy who cheered the loudest. She was the first one to have merch, it may have been just a t-shirt with some sharpie on it, but she wore it proudly and told everyone, "Just you watch; my best friend is going to be a star"

This was their last year in middle school before high school, and the duo became a trio. Kipperlilly came, and Lucy and her became close.

Ruben and Lucy didn't live too far from one another, they would often go to each others house in the middle of the night to just talk

Ruben took a keen interest into Ruvina and based on the conversations he and Lucy had, a lot of that went into his music

Lucy is first caught by Ruben when she brings the rats back, it is at that moment Lucy shares her more intimate beliefs about Runina that mortals were made to keep each other warm

Ruben doesn't tell anyone about this. Not until the bigger monsters get involved

Lucy becomes distant with Ruben towards the end of junior year before they go to the mountains of chaos. When Ruben tries to ask her why, she just brushes it off with faith stuff

Lucy is the last of her friends to be killed for Porter to shatter Star; she watches Ivy go down first, followed by Mary Ann, then Oisin, and Ruben. The horrified look on his face sends fear through her entire body. Before Kipperlilly goes down, she tells Lucy that things are going to be okay they can all be better this way. It's when Kipperlilly drops that Lucy looks at Porter and tells him she won't do this. She refuses to do this. Porter just laughs and tells her he never planned on bringing her back

Ruben is one of the last to wake up. He is met by Kipperlilly, who looks frantic, as Lucy still isn't moving. He runs over and screams and cries and pleads that she wake up. Hours go by, and she never does.

Ruben is the first to take the devil's honey, not to lie to some god but to himself, and no matter what, the devil's honey doesn't take away the anger, sadness, the hurt that he feels about Lucy. The devil's honey may be able to make him lie to himself, but those feelings never leave. Lucy's presence never leaves

Even with her gone and Ruben's new band, traces of the impression Lucy made on Ruben linger in every song. With Lucy gone, Ruben tries to ignore how empty he feels and how much he regrets not telling her his feelings

I think I need to stop here because I will keep going, and i already had to edit this down

[thequeenofsodor]

My friend Mari (aka That TV Series Bitch on Book Club) sent me three requests for the character bingo things on Discord, so I’m including them as honorary part of this ask game!

BoCo has always been awesome to me. He’s this huge Diesel that’s capable of running on the main line, and has such an awesome screen presence. I feel like we were robbed of him not returning in the CGI Series, especially since there are only four big diesels in that show (one of whom is Daisy and doesn’t really count due to being a railcar and not filling the same ecological niche, another of whom is Diesel 10 who barely appears, and the other two are international engines, who aren’t part of the North Western to begin with!) among the endless sea of diesel shunters.

I also very much resent that old “BoCo is Diesel Edward” sentiment I used to see spun around in Thomas Fandom, mostly because it’s so reductive. Like, if you boil any character in any story down to their most base archetypes and ignore all the distinctions they have, however minor they may be... of course they’ll all look the same! But I think what sets Edward apart from BoCo is that BoCo is much more stoic and tends to be more stern, but they are similar in that they are both genuinely helpful and warm characters at their core. I think their similarities and differences make them an excellent duo, since they can both confide in the other and support each other with what the other has respective difficulty with.

BoCo design-wise, aside from being cool due to being a Big Diesel, is also really cool because of his prototype. Metrovick Type 2s/Class 28s have such a cool look to them, with their swooping front windows and odd number of wheels. Honestly it’s no wonder that Awdry picked him for the first big diesel on the North Western, because even if you’re a diehard Steam Guy like Awdry, you can’t help but think “that design has a lot of personality” when you see it. I have to wonder if he knew about the class’s troubled history when he picked it though, because it’s just straight up never mentioned in the storybooks. If he didn’t, then its very serendipitous because the real life history and infamy of the class makes him a perfect fit for the Island of Misfit Engines!

Also you are all legally obligated to read @mean-scarlet-deceiver​‘s BoCo headcanon posts, as well as Ex-Condor Through the Time Machine. Extremely Good BoCo food, and covers a lot of ground far more elegantly than I can in this post lol

I remember everyone’s immediate reaction to Philip was disgust at him being an annoying kid character, and I immediately sided with the minority that “he’s fine, actually” and nowadays... I still think he’s okay, but I just don’t feel that strongly about him anymore.

I think he works great as proof of the passage of time, since it’s made pretty obvious in his debut episode that he is very much like Thomas was when he arrived on Sodor in The Adventure Begins. Honestly I think the only times where he’s ever come across as actually annoying are when he immediately tells Thomas to not trust Ashima (very forced subplot in TGR, imo) and when they start being weird about his number in S21/22. I’m pretty sure the last time he appears is in Apology Impossible, which I don’t remember him being particularly annoying in? But that episode has... other problems...

My only real gripe with him is the creative team’s choice of prototype. Philip belongs in a club alongside Connor, Caitlin, Porter, Timothy, and one or two other pre-BWBA Brenner newbies that I like to call “The Why Am I American Club.” Because, for some weird reason, the Brenner Era team really liked to introduce American locomotives into the show while pretending they’re from the mainland, for some reason! I have no idea what kind of British diesel would work for Philip while keeping the same kind of boxcab design, though, so... I suppose the issue here is more “why is he not Canonically American” or “why does he have a British accent”...

But yeah, he’s fine. I think people get far too riled up by his existence, but I don’t find him all that compelling either. I hope Bachmann makes him in Large Scale just to mess with people.

honest to god, I have things to say about Gustavo, a character I’m not convinced anyone in the fandom has ever discussed deeply at all

I’m grateful for Gustavo’s existence to an extent, because he’s the only American electric engine in the entire series, which is something I’d always been dying to see. And much like BoCo, he has a great screen presence on account of being ABSOLUTELY HUGE! I really hope he gets some sort of toy that’s more detailed than that god-awful Trackmaster pack, because he deserved a representation that captures his sheer size.

Anyway, for those who don’t know why I’m referring to this Brazilian character as American, it’s because he’s a General Electric "Little Joe”. 20 of them were initially built to work on Soviet Railways, before the Cold War began and the order got cancelled. Most of the engines went to American railroads, but five were sold to the Paulista Railway in Brazil. The “Little Joe” nickname was short for “Little Joe Stalin’s Locomotives”, and got they a reputation for being hugely awesome and powerful machines from the locos on the Milwaukee Road, which makes sense because their power output was basically equal to that of a Big Boy. I’d never heard of them before Gustavo was introduced, and frankly I’m appalled by that, because these things should absolutely be on the same level of iconicity as the GG1s! Having that kind of weird off-screen history behind him automatically makes Gustavo a bit more interesting than some of the other international engines.

But there’s more to him than just that, and to me that’s the fact that he’s designed to directly parallel/contrast with Gordon. One of the things that I really wish was explored more in BWBA is the international railway’s social ecosystem when Thomas isn’t in the mix, and for most of them it’s pretty bland. But with Gustavo, having a parallel drawn directly between him and Gordon already gives us an idea of what normal life must be like with him around. Granted, the episode makes a point of showing that he’s not exactly like Gordon (and it was not fair of Thomas to judge him like he was to begin with), but he seems to share a lot of Gordon’s more noble traits? He honestly kind of feels like what Gordon would be like if he hadn’t had his prestige and superiority complexes drilled into his mind as a young engine at Doncaster, which is interesting. As implausible as it might be, I’d love to see how Gordon and Gustavo interact with this in mind.

Granted; all of this interesting stuff is only on paper. He’s frankly kind of bland in the episode, because every character in the BWBA International stories is bland. ‘Tis the fate of essentially being an obligation to writers who are far more interested in writing Sodor’s side characters...

[thisworldisablackhole]

Listening Log, August 2024

August has pretty eventful, not a ton of new stuff that I'm over the moon about, but I've still been catching up with both new and older releases, so we're going all the way to 10 today (the max number of audio files tumblr allows on one post, and also the max number of songs I want to write about at a time). I'm kind of just biding my time until October when a bunch of good stuff is slated for release (Touché Amore, Balance and Composure, Drug Church, Fit For An Autopsy, and Elias Ronnenfelt, just to name a few). As always, these are ordered for colour flow and are not chronological. Everything is a new release unless stated otherwise.

FFO: INDIETRONICA, FEELING LIKE A KID AGAIN

The album I tried not to love, and failed miserably. This one is for all the kids who grew up listening to shit like Owl City, Hellogoodbye, and maybe even a bit of The Postal Service. Gigantic synthesizers, catchy pop melodies, dance breaks, and bittersweet vocals. It's a brand of nostalgia that makes me feel like a spoonful of sugar dissolving in cereal milk. I think Porter shot himself in the foot a bit by frontloading this album with all the bangers, because the energy drops off a cliff after the fourth track, which almost deterred me from continuing to listen. That opening sequence is so good though that I kept getting dragged back, and it really started to grown on me once I got over the fact that the rest of the album is some pretty mellow indietronica compared to the bouncy castle rave energy of the first 3 tracks, and it has slowly been sneaking up the chart to becoming one my favourite releases of the year.

FFO: MELODIC HARDCORE, POP PUNK W/ TURNSTILE RIFFS

I have never listened to Four Year Strong before. Something about their new album made me curious though. The album art is decidedly creepy and off-putting, but there's something about it that I like. It also just veers away from the pop punk frat boy imagery that I always associated with them. Either way, I'm really glad I decided to give it a go. I was not prepared for how many of the riffs were going to remind me of Turnstile or early Angel Du$t. Four Year Strong employ a lot of the same big, danceable hardcore riffs, just with a much greater focus on melodic pop punk sensibilities. Some of the lyrics on this album are cringe inducing (I'm looking at you, "STFIL"), but the good songs are so fun and catchy that it makes up for it.

(2007) - FFO: DRONE METAL, SHOEGAZE, SADNESS

The Angelic Process were a husband and wife experimental music duo that I came across almost by accident. I was not looking for the best dronemetalshoegaze album of all time, it just found me. Weighing Souls With Sand is a crushingly sad and desolate album, but it is also a textural heaven and an absolute delight for anyone who likes to nerd out over tones and production. The guitars are heavy with thick layers of dirt and reverb, and synthesizers swirl through the air like vultures to pick at our corpse. The vocals sound like desperate cries from the crypt, and the drums—while simple in nature—have an incredible impact. The slow, tribal tom hits during the third track give me chills.

Unfortunately, the story of Weighing Souls With Sand is wrapped in a very real tragedy. Kris Angylus killed himself in 2008 after a long battle with clinical depression and a severe hand injury that stopped him from being able to follow his passion. He was survived by his wife Monica Dragynfly until 2023, when she passed as well. The wild thing is, Weighing Souls With Sand is a concept album about a wife struggling to stay alive after her husbands suicide, and eventually takes her own life as well. Now, Monica's death was not actually confirmed to be suicide, but the strange (almost) prophecy of this album gives it a very chilling aura.

FFO: ICEAGE, ACOUSTIC GUITARS AND DANISH ACCENTS

When Elias Ronnenfelt dropped his previous single, "Like Lovers Do", I only had one thing on my mind... please please please be leading up to an album announcement. I begged on my knees every night before bed, and my prayers were answered. Elias dropped this new single "No One Else" along with the news that his debut solo album, Heavy Glory, will be released on October 25th. These two singles see Elias dropping the post-punk act and picking up the acoustic guitar to take on Americana through a Danish lens. "No One Else" is probably my favourite of the two just due to how sad it is, this song makes my eyes well up and leaves a pit in my stomach every time I hear it. The synthesizer that comes in close to the end reminds us that Elias' post punk roots are not far behind him. It gives the song a type of ethereal vibe that makes me think of The Cure but acoustic. Heavy Glory is now one of my most anticipated albums of the year.

FFO: COUNTRY, WAXAHATCHEE, PURPLE MOUNTAINS

This is another album that I was surprised to find myself enjoying so much. Maybe because the backing band reminds me of some of the late David Berman's work with Silver Jews and Purple Mountains. This is real slow dancin' country music with a beautiful homey vibe. Think open acres of tall grass, border collies, and an apple pie on the windowsill. Amanda Anne Platt's lyrics are a big part of why I love this album so much. This is not a truck drivin' beer chuggin' back roads type of country album (not that there's anything wrong with that). Amanda Anne Platt asks the big questions about life and love on this planet of ours. "Can anybody tell me how could we every be lonely, with all the whole wide world around? Baby when the lights go off, I think we're praying to the same God, I think we're holdin' to the same rock, I think we're drowning in the same barrage". There are plenty of tearjerking moments on this record. In a world that is so caught up in constantly one-upping ourselves every day, hearing her sing in the fifth track, "It's been a big year, I hope the next one can be smaller" immediately swept me off my feet. It almost feels taboo to ask for less. Life is overwhelming, and confusing, and stressful, and Amanada Anne Platt & The Honeycutters really get it. The Ones That Stay feels like pat on the head and a reassuring hug.

FFO: MELODIC POST-PUNK, POST-HARDCORE

Schedule 1 are a local band from Vancouver, BC. They play a style of warm, melodic post-punk that feels very unique to the temperate rainforest climate of the pacific north west. Post-punk has a long standing reputation for sounding cold and detached, but Schedule 1 sound surprisingly present and compassionate, which is a weird way to describe music, but maybe you'll know what I mean. Hell, the opening 20 seconds of "Nothing at All" sounds like it would be right at home on a fuzzy midwest emo record before the bass driven rock crashes it's way through the proverbial drywall. The band frequently flirts with other forms of melodic punk music, and they aren't afraid to wear their hearts on their sleeves. Being rooted in one of the most disparate and classist cities in the entire world, where an eternal addiction and housing crisis takes the center stage in most of our lives, it's possible that Schedule 1 have opted for empathy as a survival mechanism. There is no more room for coldness here, we must hold each other close, or die.

FFO: SCREAMO, POST-HARDCORE

Screamo heavyweight champs State Faults have returned with their magnum opus, Children Of The Moon. I'll be honest, I was never a huge fan of these guys. Their brand of screamo was always a bit too shimmery and well-produced for me, especially back in 2012 when I was much more interested in music that was chaotic and filthy. I wouldn't have even bothered to check out their new album if not for the absurd amount of hype that it generated, being declared an instant classic by many. I'm not convinced that this is an instant classic, but I'm glad I decided to check it out, because it's pretty damn good. There are some surprisingly progressive elements in this album (see the 10 minute long "No Gospel"), but the closer "Bodega Head" is by far my favourite, partially due to the incredible clean vocals and heart-clutching lyricism - "Do I get to start again, or have I closed the gates of Heaven? And now I'm on the edge, I'm hanging by a thread at Bodega Head". If every song was this impactful, I could probably get on board with considering it a classic, but a big bulk of the other tracks are still pretty run-of-the-mill post-rock influenced screamo. Not bad by any means, but a bit tiring for an album that is an hour long.

(2017) - FFO: ALT ROCK, FUZZY GUITARS AND SIMPLE MELODIES

I've been back on a big Waxahatchee kick since seeing her perform Tigers Blood live at The Orpheum a couple of weekends ago. That performance really cemented how great of a performer Katie Crutchfield is. I was really caught off guard by how powerful and magnetic her stage presence was, because it ran so opposite to the hushed, timid nature of her earlier work that kickstarted her career. If American Weekend was a collection of voice notes from a wounded animal, Tigers Blood is Katie standing victoriously atop a bloody mound of internal adversaries.

Despite being a fan of Waxahatchee since 2012, I've kind of drifted in and out of reach from her discography, and I realized that Out In The Storm was the only album of hers that I fully skipped over. This had to be rectified immediately. It's interesting to finally hear the album that preceded her major stylistic shift, because this doesn't feel like a transitory album at all. Out In The Storm is probably Katie's loudest record. It brought me right back to memories of songs like "Coast to Coast" and "Misery Over Dispute" off of Cerulean Salt, a sound that was explored more thoroughly on Saint Ivy, but Katie's songwriting on this album is just... *chefs kiss*. I especially enjoyed the demo versions of the songs on the deluxe version of the album, because they brought back that kind of lo-fi appeal of her debut, just with a full band and arguably better song writing. This is a great album, and a fantastic way to close out this era of her career.

(2023) - FFO: INDIE FOLK, ALTERNATIVE ROCK

It's no secret that I'm a huge City and Colour stan. One of my most formative core memories is listening to Bring Me Your Love while playing Minecraft (hilarious, I know). Needless to say, Dallas Green's music has been important to me for a long time, and his newest album from 2023 is no different. The Love Still Held Me Near was written following the death of a close friend and the divorce of his marriage, but Dallas does not succumb easily to darkness. This is some of his most tragic, yet life-affirming music to date. The first two tracks on this especially are probably two of his best songs period. "Meant to Be" grapples with depression in the wake of death - "And then the morning came, and the sun started rising, but I was missing my friend, so how do I carry on?" Green subtly notes the difference between himself and those who mourn in a church, is that the religious have some type of innate acceptance of loss as part of something bigger, whereas Green struggles to accept that this is really how life is meant to be. Maybe he envies their acceptance, or maybe it's just a beacon of hope. On the following track "Underground", however, Dallas rises through the throes of grief like a phoenix with an anthem affirming that the only way through pain is love - "Oh but it ain't enough, just to be alive. We gotta lean into the love a little, before we die". The rest of the album doesn't really come close to the greatness of the opening two tracks, but by god it is still a fantastic album and a top-tier addition to his discography.

FFO: TECHNO, SYNTH POP

Julie-Sophie's debut album forgive too slow, is a wistful and entrancing mix of cold techno and avant-garde synth pop with some surprising pockets of warmth scattered throughout the track list. A lot of this album feels dissociative and lamentful and almost made me feel like I was listening to something like Silent Servant but with vocals. This kind of off-kilter fusion of techno and abstract synth pop dominates the first half of the album, but songs like "wishful thinking" and "telephone" off of the latter half completely flip the mood into something vibrant and warm, as if we are witnessing the healing process of a traumatic event in real time. Definitely going to be one of the most underrated albums of the year.

[theorphaninthetardis]

Forty-Six

Once the power comes back on, Gwen forces the doors open. Laying a puddle of blood in the centre of the cells, is Rhys Williams. Gwen collapses onto the floor next to him, pulling his body into her arms. Sophie stays, frozen in the doorway, seeing a different body than that of Rhys. She blinks a few times, and shakes her head. Taking a few deep breaths, she places a comforting hand on the Welshwoman's shoulder.

Jack picks up Rhys' body, while Sophie assists Gwen down toward the autopsy room. Jack lays the man on one of the tables, and assists Gwen onto a stool. Her face is blank, and she looks lost. Tosh and Ianto file in as well, lining the wall.

The Captain begins to carefully scrub the blood off of the woman's hands, as she stares at her boyfriend's body.

"I'll have to tell his family," she states, lifelessly.

"We'll deal with it."

"The way you dealt with that porter the first time I met you? No, you won't deal with him, Ianto."

"Gwen, I'm so sorry," Tosh offers,

She laughs, "You never even met him. This is what happens here. We all end up alone." She smiles, "Not me," she stands from her seat, "No way. You bring him back."

"No," Jack states, turning away.

Sophie steps around the Captain, "Gwen, I understand what you're going through, okay. I just lost my best friend a few months ago. But, you have to understand, everything has a time, and everything ends. And that is always sad, but everything always begins again too, and that's happy. It'll take time, but there is nothing that can be done now."

"No," she says, brushing off the comments, "there's something wrong with time, so er, we, we can go back to the moment, to the very moment–" Jack cuts her off, while sweeping Sophie behind him. The Welshwoman, in her grief, lunges at Jack, "There's something you can do, otherwise what's the f*cking point of you!" She starts to shake him by the collar, "You, you bring him back! Bring him back. You bring him back. Do you understand me, Jack f*cking Harkness!"

Jack carefully grabs her arms, wrapping his around her, keeping her still. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry."

The woman gives up her protests, falling limp in Jack's arms. At that moment, Owen enters the autopsy room, "Oh, sh*t. What happened?" He ignores Tosh and Ianto, attempting to take Gwen into his arms. She shoves away, and goes back over to Rhys. "How many other people have got to suffer?" the doctor asks, glaring at Jack, "I'm gonna fix this. I'm opening the rift."

He starts up the stairs, and almost immediately, Ianto and Tosh go to follow him. Jack watches them ascend the stairs, "Make sure you stop him."

Ianto freezes, and turns back to face him, "No."

"We're gonna help him," Tosh adds.

Gwen rushes away from her boyfriend's body, "Bilis was right. He said open the Rift and everything goes back to normal. Owen's right. I'm going to get Rhys back," and she rushes up the stairs as well.

Jack turns to find Sophie still at his side, "What, you aren't going to help them?"

"Hmm?" she asks. "No. The Doctor warned me. Said if the Rift is fully opened, more destruction than has ever been seen may befall the earth. Said that the Silurians had a legend about it as well. And all legends–"

"Have a semblance of truth," the Captain finishes. "We have to stop them."

"Thanks, Captain Obvious."

He glances over at her, "It's Captain Harkness actually." He then takes off up the stairs, Sophie right on his heels. As soon as he touches the landing, he calls out, "Get away from the computer, Gwen."

They all turn to look at the duo, "Jack," Owen says, and gestures to Gwen.

The Captain rolls his eyes, "This is a trap. All these cracks around the world, they're diversions. This is what Bilis wants."

"What are you afraid of, Jack?" the doctor asks.

Sophie opens her mouth to speak up, but Jack shakes his head, and she slips backwards, letting him take the lead. When it becomes clear that they aren't moving, Jack sighs, and pulls out his revolver, aiming it at Owen, "I said move." Sophie can see the tears forming in his eyes, but she knows that he won't hesitate if need be. When they don't move from the computer, Jack reiterates, "Final warning."

Gwen takes a step away from the rift manipulator, "Come on, Jack."

"You're a united front now?" he sighs, "Toshiko, the poor girl who'll screw any passing alien that gives her a pendant? Owen, so strong he gets in a cage with a Weevil, desperate to be mauled. Or Ianto, hiding his cyber-girlfriend in the basement. Your three comrades here pumped bullets into her, remember?"

"I've got to get Rhys back," Gwen tells him, and Sophie can see the pain on her face.

"Yeah, cause you're so in love with Rhys that you spend half your time in Owen's bed."

Gwen reacts, punching Jack so hard, he falls to the ground, his gun flying from his hands. Owen scoops it off the floor, and aims it at Jack, "We're relieving you of your command, Captain. We're opening that Rift and getting back what we lost." Jack squares his shoulders, and moves to stand back up. Owen points the weapon more forcefully, "Stay down."

"You're in charge, Owen?" Jack asks, and starts to force himself up, "You've gotta have significantly bigger balls." He reaches his full height, and Owen presses the trigger. The bullet makes its landing right between Jack's eyes, and he crashes to the floor. The doctor then turns, and aims the pistol at Sophie.

She freezes, raising her hands in a placating manner. She takes her gaze off the barrel of the weapon, meeting Owen's eyes instead. Ianto gently grabs Owen's wrist, while in the same move, handcuffing Sophie to the railing behind the Rift Manipulator. She struggles against the cuffs, "Don't do this. You have no idea what the ramifications of opening this rift could be. You could destroy the world."

The doctor turns on her, the pistol butt raised in the air. He sees it swing toward her, and then everything goes to black.

[theloniousbach]

HANGING OUT AT SMALL’S LIVE #23, 17-20 OCTOBER 2022

ARI HOENIG with Gilad Hekselman and Joe Martin, SMALL’S JAZZ CLUB, 17 OCTOBER 2022, 2nd set

BUSTER WILLIAMS with Brandon McCune and Lenny White, MEZZROW’S, 8 OCTOBER 2022, 1st set

TAD SHULL with Ray Gallon, Paul Gill, and Joe Strasser, SMALL’S JAZZ CLUB, 9 OCTOBER 2022, 1st set

RICH PERRY with Paul Malinverni, Ugonna Okegwa, and Steven Johns, SMALL’S JAZZ CLUB, 20 OCTOBER 2022, 2nd set (partial)

I leaned into my jazz watching as a meditation on a trip to see my birth family. After days of intense peopling with some of the most important people in my world, I needed to get into the music and these largely straight ahead shows helped.

This latest iteration of ARI HOENIG’s trio may be a one off as guitarist Gilad Hekselman and Joe Martin seem to play together often, but for the second month in a row, Hoenig has been without Ben Tiberio and then Gadi Lehavi played piano and some electronics in September with saxophonist Tivon Pinnicot and Hoenig. Of course artists need to grow, but I came to appreciate Lehavi and Tiberio as toned down foils for Hoenig’s unique and compelling drumming whom I first discovered in the maelstrom of Jean-Michel Pilc and Francois Moutin. Ah, well, we defer to Heraclitus.

I am endeavoring to be more open-minded about guitarists and, particularly this time around, I wanted to see how that would affect Hoenig. The drummer was every bit as magical as always and the second tune’s Middle Eastern feel afforded stunning rhythmic options for the whole band. I have to guess that was Hekselman’s tune, but they also did Moonlight in Vermont and closed with Hoenig’s Gurnsey Street Gooseneckers. So there were some familiar touchpoints, including the opener which had to be a standard. Hekselman looped a bit on his tune and that was okay, but he took some extended completely solo sections which seemed too self-indulgent particularly as I was there to hear Hoenig. But I got a good does and left happy.

The BUSTER WILLIAMS set had the expected lots and lots of lead bass, both solos and in the ensembles. The leader just wanted to play and started the next tune even as the applause for the previous one hadn’t quite peaked. He made no announcements and I couldn’t name a tune, but it was all comfortable and usually familiar. I thought Lenny White was a bit much for the smaller Mezzrow’s, but he is a fine player. Younger Brandon McCune though had enough muscle to stand up to both veterans. He was full and solid all set and things swung.

TAD SHULL, on the other hand, announced every tune, standards and, tellingly, a Hank Mobley tune (The Breakthrough). I was trying to place Shull in the tenor-verse, particularly as I knew that I’d see Rich Perry the next night. I know him most from an album of ballads with Mark Turner where I assumed that Shull was the fuller player. And he is both rich and lithe, so yeah in the middleweight range with Mobley as a suggestive model. It was a strong, agreeable set with On a Clear Day to open, then Cole Porter, the Mobley, Matt Dennis, Jerome Kern, and Julie Styne. I have a developing habit of catching Ray Gallon’s monthly duo sets, sometimes with Paul Gill, so it was worthwhile to see both of them in a band setting too.

I saw most of RICH PERRY’s set before a call back home. Like Shull (and me) he was born in 1955, so that helps me get calibrated to my generation. He is a fluid and linear player with some muscle. He didn’t announce tunes but huddled loudly enough for me to know that they opened with Steve Swallow’s Falling Grace and that Monk’s Misterioso was in there. On the latter it was Pete Malinverni who kept the Monkishness going while Perry approached it as a blues which it is. Ugonna Okegwa was strong as expected and Steve Johns was solid. There were standards and it all had a welcome swing. I would have liked to hear the last 15 minutes, but I had a healthy dose of the music to get me through the night.

Good old Small’s Live is something to rely on.

[t4tozier]

if you're still taking questions,,,, if Porter had won, what do you reckon he would have used his powers for, after the whole restoring his clan to glory and all that shit was taken care of? and how is Jace dealing with his boyfriend being off in the astral plane or wherever the fuck gods actually live?

oh i am always taking questions about starbreaker <3

i honestly truly believe that porter would be bored without jace. i think he would have fun at first and smite people who he felt wronged him and raze elmville to the ground yadda yadda but then he’d be like okay. so what now.

he’s too prideful to admit that he could possibly have made a mistake, and too power-hungry to let go of his newfound godhood, so in his mind, there’s really only one solution.

jace probably spends a lot of time immediately after porter’s ascension feeling angry, betrayed, foolish. after all of this, he’d truly been nothing more to him than another pawn, another stepping stone to reach his ultimate goal. even still, he prays. he curses porter out and in the same breath vows to worship him forever. and sometimes, just sometimes, he’ll hear a whisper in his head, feel hot breath against his neck, and he knows that his god is listening.

it’s a few months after the battle at aguefort. jace has since moved back to fallinel, a place he never saw himself returning to—but when your home is destroyed by your vengeful ex-boyfriend, you don’t have many options left.

he’s curled up on his couch, nursing a drink and watching the fantasy bachelor, when he hears a knock on his door. he ignores it the first time, but then it becomes more forceful, and jace finally pulls himself away from the television with a groan. he’s tired, rubbing the liquor and sleep from his eyes, as he opens the door to see—

“porter?”

“in the flesh, little star.” porter grins at him, eyes a swirling pit of fire. his skin glows from the inside out, looking more like lava rock rather than the pure stone it once had resembled.

jace just stares at first. he doesn’t know whether to kiss him or punch him or fall to his knees. but porter breezes past him through the entryway—has he always been that tall?—and makes himself at home on jace’s couch.

“missed you, starshine,” he says, looking up at jace—though, they’re still nearly eye level to each other. “i have…a proposal for you.”

and porter ends up granting jace immortality, the powers of a saint, a holy priest, so that they’ll forever be by each other’s sides. he doesn’t really give jace the chance to decline, but even if he had, jace knows he wouldn’t have. after all, they’ve always been a duo. why stop now?

[rosyfingereddawnn]

only the black rose (chapter 4)

pairing: jimmy page x layla porter (oc)

warnings: bordering on nsfw, a little fluff, and yet another pretentious description of a zep song :)

words: 3.9k

summary: in the blink of an eye, it’s 1975 and layla’s suddenly joining led zeppelin for their north american tour. throughout the chaos, the band take a liking to her, she builds friendships with the boys, and love blossoms. but all good things must come to an end.

author’s note: i blushed countless times writing this chapter. also things are heating up folks!!! not beta’d as always! hope you enjoy!

masterlist

playlist

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

----------

The dressing room of the Rotterdam Ahoy was certainly not a palace of luxury, with its plush navy couches and line of chairs pushed against the wall, next to a long folding table packed tight with refreshments. A full-length mirror sits in the corner, casting refractions of faint yellow light onto the off-white brick walls. John Bonham lounges on the loveseat, drumming out an intricate rhythm on his knees, brown eyes far away as he stares off into the distance. John Paul Jones perches on the chair nearest to the door, strumming a tune reminiscent of rockabilly on a beautiful mandolin, nodding his head to keep the beat.

Looking up, Jonesy spots Jimmy across from him, occupying the couch next to Bonzo. Jimmy is tuning up his acoustic guitar, no doubt the precious gift he had received just days before. Every so often, Jimmy would pause in his focused tuning to shift in his seat with a wince, stretching out, before finally resuming.

“You okay, Pagey?”

“...Hm?” Jimmy grunts out, concentration stolen completely by the beautiful guitar in his hands. Heavenly notes swirling around the small room, mixing seamlessly with the sharp harmonies of the mandolin. Jimmy did always preach about unity, after all.

“Are you okay? You keep wincing, and you’ve shifted in your seat about 20 times in the past two minutes.”

“My back is a little sore, I must have slept in an odd position. Nothing serious.” This is punctuated by a crackle as Jimmy stretches once more.

“Well, you did have a nice pillow though, didn’t you?”

“Jonesy—”

“I hope you know that Robert has pictures, Jim.”

“You’re joking.”

“Nope,” Bonzo chuckles, popping the P, and smirking at the man across from him, who has finally stopped plucking the strings of the guitar. Jimmy wrings his hands together, stopping only to thumb at his nose. “No need to be nervous, Page. I’m sure he’ll only show a couple of them at the wedding, which reminds me. We need to know her ring preferences. Stones are important to girls, or something.”

“He took more than one? Wait… Rings? We’re not… I’ve known her for like, 5 days! Marriage? She doesn’t even like me like—”

“Who’s getting married?” Layla questions, voice floating through the open door as she walks in, arm in arm with Robert, who is sporting a cheshire grin. The blond sends a subtle wink at Jimmy, strolling further into the room.

“Layla, quick question.”

“Oh no. Should I be scared?”

“Only a little bit.” Jonesy cuts in, chuckling at the helpless look on Jimmy’s face.

“Bonzo, I-I really don’t think—”

“Pagey, shush,” Bonzo interrupts the guitarist, who splutters, dumbfounded at the exchange taking place. He moves to stop Bonzo from speaking, but Bonzo shoves him back onto the couch behind him, Jimmy landing with a huff. “Now, birdie… What is your favourite gemstone?”

“Garnet. Do I want to know what this is about?”

“Probably not.”

“Great. Well, as fun as this has been, I’ve got to go find Peter, he wanted to talk to me about something,” Layla drawls, a smile just evident in the slight curl of her lips, painted a pretty pink in the artificial light of the room. She catches Jimmy staring her way, and her smile grows wider, taking in the stunned expression on his features.  “I just thought it would be a good idea to rescue Robert from the horde of groupies that had him surrounded first.”

“Very smart. It would be rather hard to play without our frontman. Unless… Bonzo, how quickly can we get Coverdale in here?”

“Jonesy, I’m hurt. You know my voice is better than his.”

“Every single day, I am astounded at how humble you are, Robert. Truly brings a tear to my eye.” Layla laughs, turning towards the door, when a soft voice pipes up from behind her, paired with the sound of footsteps, muffled by the carpet under their feet.

“Mind if I join you, petal?”

A soft smile graces the woman’s lips at the sound of Jimmy’s dulcet voice, and she turns around to face him. Gazing up at him almost shyly, she nods, and they walk out together, Jimmy’s arm comforting around the woman’s shoulders. As they exit the dressing room, Robert pokes his head out, a mischievous smile growing slowly.

“Use protection, you two. Can’t have any little Page-Porters running around the venue.” Before the duo could retort, Robert retreats into the dressing room once more, his golden curls and the sound of his cackle following. Embarrassment colouring his face, Jimmy releases his hold on Layla, but is stopped by a hand at his wrist. Forest green and golden brown meet once more as she nods lightly. Jimmy, confident that Layla is comfortable with his touch, wraps his arm around her shoulders once more, as they walk through the venue in search of Peter Grant.

“For a man of his stature, I hadn’t anticipated how hard it would be to find him.” Jimmy laughs, which causes Layla to look at the man. His laugh may just be one of her favourite sounds, she thinks. Jimmy, sensing Layla’s eyes on him, looks down at the woman, whose head dips shyly, so different from the sassy exterior she lets people see. He lets his gaze linger, taking in the unruly chestnut ringlets that frame her tanned face perfectly. Her brown eyes hold unimaginable depths, and he is frightened by how often he gets lost in them. Her lips, the colour of lovely flowers in the bright morning light, are bitten cherry red out of nerves. Layla looks up at him then, and instead of shying away, this time he holds her gaze.

“Jim, can I ask you a question?”

“Of course petal. Ask away.”

“I’m just… a little curious,” Layla says, smiling as she stares right back, biting her lip for an entirely different reason now. “Why exactly do you call me petal?”

“Because I can make you blush the colour of a rose in bloom.”

“...That was so cheesy. I hope you know that, Jimmy,” Layla says, a giddy laugh bubbling out past her lips. “You know, I need a nickname for you now, so we’re even.”

“Oh, is that right, petal?”

“It is, actually. How about… angel? I mean, just look at that face.”

Jimmy’s breath hitches, audible even through the bustle of pre-show preparations. His free hand moves up to scratch at his neck once more, a nervous tick, of which he has many, that Layla is now accustomed to. Recovering quickly, Jimmy smirks, eyes glinting mischievously.

“Actually, petal, I think I might be a devil in disguise, but that’s something for you to figure out.”

“Right, because a devil would definitely check up on me, and help me when I was drunk out of my mind, and make me morning coffee exactly the way I like it.”

Knowing he’s been beat, Jimmy’s gaze falls to his feet, suddenly very interested in a particularly deep scuff mark. Layla chances a look at the man, and smiles softly at his reaction. Stepping in front of him, she puts a hand to his shoulder, wiping off imaginary dust from his shirt. His eyes follow her fingers, which finally land on his chin, lifting his head to face her. Layla moves in closer, tucking the hair falling into his face behind his ear.

“I appreciate your help trying to find Peter, but you have a show to get ready for, don’t you, angel?”

“I—”

He is interrupted by the whisper of soft lips brushing his cheek, and the fading scent of the woman’s perfume as she slips past him.

“Damn, she’s good…”

----------

Maneuvering through the maze-like hallways of the arena, Layla finally spots Peter, who is in deep conversation with a stage-hand, back turned to her. Moving closer, she can hear snippets of conversation detailing stage lights and lasers, and she wonders just what she had gotten into. Peter, hearing the padding of Layla’s footsteps approaching, finally turns around, grinning the moment he sees her.

“Layla! I’d like to speak with you for a moment, if that’s okay?”

“Of course, Peter! In fact, I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” Layla exclaims, falling into step with Peter as they trek through the long hallways once more. “You had said you wanted to talk to me earlier?”

“Right, yes. You had expressed interest in helping out in the wings during the tour,”  Peter says, leading the woman with a paternal hand at the small of her back, ensuring she doesn't get lost once again. “But I was wondering if you had wanted to maybe experience this show in the audience? I only ask, because the experience is much different from the crowd, and I wouldn’t want you to miss out.”

“I would love to, Peter, but if you do need help…”

“Go have fun, dear. A front-row view at a Led Zeppelin show doesn’t come very often, after all.”

“Thank you so much, Peter!”

“It’s my pleasure, Layla. Now, we’ll be on in about 30 minutes, so we better get you to your seats sooner rather than later.”

Peter riffles through the pockets of his blazer and produces a rectangular piece of paper, no doubt the tickets themselves. Layla is led to an usher, and Peter, with a wink and a smile, turns on his heel, walking away, no doubt to check on his boys. The usher leads her onto the floor, right in front of the stage. Layla thanks them, a gleaming smile making her glow.

The venue is already packed to the brim, and with a glance behind her, Layla spots an ocean of faces, eyes glued to the stage in anticipation. At the sight of this, Layla can’t help but reciprocate these feelings.

“Hell,” Layla mutters under her breath, shaking her head lightly. “I’ve seen them play in the studio… How much better could it get than that?”

In the relative darkness of the large room, she can see shadows moving out from the stage wings, the hollers of the crowd growing deafening.

Here we go.

A booming voice erupts out from the speakers scattered around the stage.  Layla can’t help but join in, letting out some cheers of her own, wide smile nearly splitting her cheeks.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Led Zeppelin!”

A soft click cuts through the sea of white noise like a knife, and the stage is illuminated by a giant sign reading, ‘Led Zeppelin’ in bold, lit letters, which ignites the flame of excitement once more. A smug look passes between them and the band starts to play, catching the audience off guard. Bonzo’s sharp drumming serves as a count-in for Jimmy and Jonesy, their combined excellence creating a solid wall of pure sound, only penetrated by Robert’s masterful wails. Jimmy, gleaming in a suit accented with shining panels of silver, looks absolutely decadent, enraptured by the music he is playing. The chorus sounds, echoing slightly, across the great sea of faces, who are relentless in their fiery adrenaline. Robert glides across the stage, singing as if the crowd were snakes and he was a charmer, entrancing them with his stage presence and golden voice.

“It's been a long time, been a long time, been a long lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely... time.”

Finally, the last notes fizzle out, Jimmy improvising a run under the blanket of unity courtesy of the rhythm section, and the crowd’s screams grow thunderous, a reward for the incredible first song. This trend remained throughout the entirety of the concert, every song fueling the fire.

Layla is completely in awe, eyes blinking rapidly in hopes of comprehending exactly what she had just witnessed. She had known exactly how talented every one of them was, she had seen it just days ago when they had played in the studio, but what she hadn't anticipated, was just how much the stage lights and the crowd brought them to life. They looked holy, faces painted with pure concentration and confidence. Throughout the show, she couldn't help but hang on to Jimmy’s every move. Up there on stage, bliss apparent in the uptick of his rosy lips and eyes full of ecstasy, he was hypnotising, beautiful strong fingers tickling the fretboard in hopes of squeezing ethereal notes from it. The woman wonders what it would be like; for the guitarist to touch her like that. To make her whimper like the guitar he manipulates every night. She wonders what it would be like to touch unmarked, alabaster skin, to bury her fingers in jet black hair as perfect, pink lips rock her world. The touch of callused fingers making her skin tingle and hum and burn in euphoria.

“Layla, you’re going to start bleeding if you keep biting your lip like that. Are you alright, my dear?”

Looking up abruptly, Layla is met by the whiskered face of Peter Grant, smiling softly as he looks down at her. She shakes her head to banish the illicit thoughts, curls flying wildly about her head.

“I’m… Peter, that was incredible!”

“Why don't we sneak you backstage so you can tell the boys what you think?” Peter says, smirking at the astonished face of the young woman in front of him. “They've been asking about you ever since they got off stage.”

“Lead the way!”

The two make their way to the dressing rooms, idle chat between Layla and Peter the soundtrack. Walking through the dressing room doors, she sees the boys facing away from her, celebrating a job well done. Robert is reclined on the couch, two beautiful blondes on each side getting his full attention. Bonzo and Jonesy are chatting in the corner of the room, sipping on bottles of whatever liquor they could find. Jimmy stands alongside them, laughing softly, dimples rising on his cheeks. In the harsh light of the dressing room, the sweat dripping from Jimmy’s body makes him glow, and Layla can’t help but stare.

“Boys, it seems we have a guest.”

Four pairs of eyes lock on her, and she smiles winningly, the beginnings of a giggle bubbling up her throat.

“Excuse me, ladies,” says Robert, as he extricates himself from the arms of the blondes, smiling apologetically. “But I really must greet the little dove.”

Immediately, arms surrounding the young woman, and as bad as the boys smelled, impressively sweaty after such a wonderful show, she was too excited to care. Pulling back finally, she gives her friends a megawatt smile.

“Guys, that was… That was truly amazing! I don’t know how you did it,” exclaims Layla, hands flying every which way to prove her point. “But you completely exceeded my expectations! I thought your little studio performance was excellent, but… This!”

“Wow, Layla. You’ve got such a way with words.” Jonesy jokes, putting an arm around the woman, leading her into the post-performance chaos. Bonzo pours her a shot glass full of something unidentifiable, vodka perhaps, and Layla tips it back quickly. Liquid courage firmly in place, she catches Jimmy’s eye. Wrestling out of Jonesy’s arms, Layla struts over to the raven-haired man and guides him to the corner of the room, a small hand slipping into his.

“Petal—”

“Shush!  Jim, that performance was… I don’t know what to say! Everyone had a great show, of course, but your guitar,” Layla rambles, speaking so quickly that the guitarist can barely hang on to a word the woman is saying. “... And Stairway. Oh my god, I don’t think I looked away once during the whole song! And—”

“Layla—”

“... Communication Breakdown ended way too soon, but the way you moved your fingers so quickly across the fretboard. I just don’t even—”

“Petal, please calm—”

This time, Jimmy isn’t interrupted by the ranting woman, but rather a set of slightly chapped lips on his, and a soft hand cradling his cheek, the other a warm weight on his shoulder. Layla is… kissing him. As soon as he makes this discovery, the lips against his turn down into a slight frown, and begin to pull away. Frantic at the thought of Layla pulling back, Jimmy brings a hand to her face, the other threading through her unruly curls to land at the back of her head. Deepening the chaste kiss, Jimmy’s eyes close. If he had been less preoccupied, he would have seen Bonzo, phone in hand, calling home in hopes of talking to his lovely wife. He would have seen Jonesy, laughing and pressing ever-closer to a beautiful brunette, a hand pushing back her long wavy locks. He would have seen Robert walking closer with a smirk set on his lips.

Jimmy finally pulls away, staring deep into Layla’s chestnut eyes, glazed over slightly as she blinks back at him, lips a luscious red from the heated kiss. Jimmy opens his mouth to speak, but another voice beats him to the punch.

“Goodness, little dove, if I knew you were handing out kisses like that for a good performance, I would’ve walked off before Jimmy. Hell, I’d’ve shoved him to get to you.”

Layla scoffs at the blond’s words, her hands twined around the guitarist’s neck. “Sorry, blondie, I’m not handing those out to just anyone. Besides, don't you have two beautiful blondes looking to take a bite out of you?”

“Ah, you're right, little dove. Excuse me, but I must get going.” Robert says with a wink, strolling back over to the two women.

Layla looks back at Jimmy, to find him staring at her. They remain there, gazes locked on one other, until Jimmy finally looks away, scanning the room.

“Let’s go somewhere a little more private, hm?” Jimmy whispers, taking Layla’s hand in his and leading her out the door.

Walking through the maze of hallways, hand in hand, Layla is struck by the parallels of the last time her and Jimmy were here. Only this time, she hadn’t just kissed him on the cheek. Her cheeks flush a dark scarlet at the thought as she is pulled into a deserted room, hand still linked with Jimmy’s own.

“Layla, I…”

“That was…”

The couple speak in unison, nerves taking over. Jimmy takes a deep breath, gripping Layla’s hands tightly in his, as he looks down at her, green eyes twinkling like stars in the midnight sky.

“Are you,” He starts, clearing his throat as he gazes down at Layla, who is looking up at him in reverence, reminiscent of the look she had given him on the plane. “Are you okay, petal? You don’t seem like the kind of person to just… kiss someone like that.”

“Honestly? Angel, I’ve been thinking of doing that for a while. Since the moment I first saw you, really.”

“Well… The feeling is mutual, but I mean… I think we should talk about this.”

“Jimmy Page, always the pragmatist.”

The man chuckles, smirking at the woman, places a hand beside her head on the wall, leaning in close. “Hey, you’ve never complained about it before, so why start now?”

“Maybe I did, behind your back. You would have no way of knowing, would you?” Layla says, a sweet smile on her lips as she bats her eyelashes; the image of false innocence.

Jimmy smiles at the woman, until it slips off his face, his downcast eyes troubled. He reaches up a hand to thumb lightly at his nose, and she realizes that he’s nervous. Tilting his head up with a finger at his chin, she meets his eyes.

“Jim, what’s wrong? Did… Did you not like it? The kiss, I mean?” Jimmy startles at this, quick to reassure her with a hand at her cheek, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles along her cheekbone.

“Of course I liked it, petal. How could I not? I just… I want to do this right, Layla.”

“Mhm.” Layla hums, moving closer to the man, smirking softly at the nervousness that plagues the guitarist.

“You’re not just… You’re not just some groupie to me, y’know?”

“Mhm.”

“I don’t want this to be just a one night stand, or… or a fling, or a friends with benefits situation, Layla. I want you.”

“Right.”

“I think we should take this slow, and see where… When did you get so close to me?”

Layla leans forward, placing a peck on his lips, and pulls away, leaving him stunned. He shakes his head, and tries again, brow furrowing in determination. “Layla, I’m serious, I really—”

This is met by yet another peck of the lips. Jimmy opens his mouth to speak, trying once more, but he is thwarted by yet another sweet kiss. Finally giving in, Jimmy deepens the kiss, hands landing in her hair. He spins them around, and crowds Layla against the wall, pulling back briefly, which elicits a soft whine from the brunette.

“Jimmy—”

“Are you okay with this, petal?”

“... Get over here.”

She pulls him in once again, and they resume where they left off. Jimmy laps at the opening of Layla’s bottom lip, asking for entrance, and his request is granted. The couple battles for dominance, their hands roaming anywhere they could reach. Jimmy’s palm slides down to rest at her back, dangerously close to slipping lower. Layla smiles against his lips, and pulls away, breathing heavily. She presses one more breathless kiss to Jimmy’s lips, and smiles widely, taking in the man before her. His hair is a mess, his lips are swollen, and his eyes are locked onto hers, searching her face with a hint of a smile. She wants this to work; for them to work.

“Angel, I want to take this slow too. I don’t want to lose you to someone else, just because we rushed this. I do, however, hope we can still kiss like that on the regular.”

“We’ll see, petal.” Jimmy laughs, winding a familiar arm around her shoulders, as he presses a kiss to her cheek.

“Oh, how the tables have turned… I’m usually the one dishing out cheek kisses.”

“That may just have to change, then.”

“Be careful, I could very well just go and find Robert right now. You know, maybe I'll go steady with him instead…”

Laughter follows behind them like a shadow as they walk back to the dressing room to find the rest of their crew. Jimmy’s arm still rests around the shoulders of the woman, and as they enter, the band take in the disheveled state of the couple.  

“Oh my god—”

“Come on, boys, we have a plane to catch!”

“Actually, Pagey,” Jonesy interjects, smiling at the couple, eyebrows waggling. “We still have a few minutes. What happened while you were gone?”

“Did you guys, like… have a quickie in the custodial closet or something?”

“God, Bonzo, we—”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Bonham.” Layla interjects, kind smile cutting through the sarcasm of her response. Bonzo smiles back, clapping Layla on the shoulder. Robert pouts playfully, curls bouncing as he lowers his head slightly.

“That should have been me…”

Peter chooses this moment to walk in, alerting them that it’s finally time to leave. One taxi ride later, everybody piles into the Starship, making themselves comfortable. Jimmy and Layla take a spot on the comfortable loveseat, and fall asleep right away, leaning up against one another.

If they wake up, backs sore once again, it’s worth it to them.

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taglist: @jimmys-zeppelin @salixfragilis @timetraveller4 (let me know if you want to be added!)