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disneytva · 4 months

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Variety Interviews Ayo Davis, Meredith Roberts And Emily Hart On Disney Television Animation's 40th Anniversary And What To Expect On From The Past, Present And Future

40 years ago, Disney TVA was founded on the heels of challenging outcomes with features “The Fox and the Hound” and “The Black Cauldron.”

Initially, Disney TVA was restricted from using established Disney legacy characters, but nevertheless had huge successes with new shows like “The Wuzzles” and “Adventures of the Gummi Bears,” both of which became popular in syndication. As time went on, DTVA was able to use its limited rights to create shows like “DuckTales” and “TaleSpin,” which featured Disney characters. Today, the slate has evolved to include shows that travel across Disney’s streaming, linear and digital platforms, including Disney+, Disney Channel, Disney Junior and the Disney Parks

Over the 40 years of the studio has collaborated with Walt Disney Imagineering to bring beloved Disney Afternoon characters to the parks as well Mickey And Minnie's Runaway Railway and AquaMouse for the Disney Wish and Disney Treasure cruises from the Disney Cruise & Ships Line as well collaborating with Disney Yellow Two Shoes Team to redesing some heritage characters for the WDW Passholder Magnets.

Disney TVA characters also have gone to the realm of live action. In 2019 Disney Channel brought Kim Possible to the live action world as a Disney Channel Original Movie in 2019. In Spring 2022, Walt Disney Studios brought Chip 'n Dale: Rescue Rangers to a new generation of fans trought a meta-driven live action/animated hybrid film which won an Primetime Emmy Award for Best Feature Film.

In April 2024, it was announced that Kiara from The Lion King II: Simba's Pride created at Disney TVA will make her live action debut on the motion capture/computer animated film "Mufasa The Lion King" with the character being voiced by Blue Ivy Carter. In Fall 2023, it was announced that Blumhouse Television and Atomic Monster where developing a live action reboot of Gargoyles for Disney+.

The future of the studio looks bright as the studio is slated to debut it's 100th show overall "StuGo" in 2025, as well new interations of beloved classics like The Proud Family, Phineas And Ferb, Sofia The First and Darkwing Duck trought revivals,reboots and spin-offs in the coming years with early talks of new interations of TaleSpin, Kim Possible and Recess since Early 2023.

“We have a wildly diverse development slate because we don’t have a house style,” says Meredith Roberts, executive vice president, television animation, Disney Branded Television and CEO of Disney Television Animation “Our styles are creator-driven, so that allows for real support of the artist or creator to fulfill his or her vision. Anything is possible, whether it's CGI. (“Monsters at Work”), hand-drawn 2D (“Big City Greens”,"Primos","Hailey's On It!"), rig-based 2D (“Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur”,"Kiff") and stop-motion (“Mickey Saves Christmas”,"Rhona Who Lives By The River".). Roberts continues, “We really try and solve all the problems and develop it. We look at the scripts and the story arcs. Every project has to have a strategy behind it that will complement the slate and separate it from other things. Each project has a distinct swim lane to attract an audience. And we’ve learned to meet the kids where they are, in terms of streaming and YouTube.”

Co-viewing, the viewership that happens when adults sit down to watch a DTVA show with the kids in their lives, is part of the studio’s secret sauce and long-term strategy. Many of the shows are written with jokes and plot points for both audiences so both groups will return.

“We double down on the kids and family space,” says Roberts. “We’re not just dipping a toe in the water. We’re diving in. I think we’ve seen a lot of churn with the competition, who just don’t have the patience to develop and are for this audience, which is a very specialized kid audience and co-view audience.” ("The Witchverse", "Rhona Who Lives By The River","InterCats","Fantasy Sports") Roberts reflects: “I think one of the things I’m most proud of is how stable Disney TVA has been for the last 40 years despite a lot of outside churn of the animation industry. Many of our crews feel that Disney is their forever home. I think the excitement they have to illustrate and create with this brand has been terrific because it’s harder to be funny and clean. And nowhere are we tearing down people to get that laugh. I think that’s the beauty of a Disney animated show.”

DTVA also sought to meet kids where they are by making their audience — which is made up of the most diverse generation in history — feel seen, with series such as “Elena of Avalor,” which featured Disney’s first Latina princess, and “The Proud Family,” franchise focused on the life of a teenage Black girl.

“We do have an amazing insights team that are constantly in the field, giving us general information about how kids are watching content, what they’re into,” Emily Hart (VP of Current and Development - Disney Junior) says. “Some of those things are evolving, as we know the ways kids consume content is changing. But there are some universal truths about kids, and it’s great to have that reinforced. Kids still like a lot of the same things that we like. So, there’s a combination that we’re always tracking with every new idea, and we do pilot testing. We get to sit down and talk about the content, and we invite our creators in so they can see the kids talking about it because they’re the audience and they’re the truest test of if the story is going to work.”

Ayo Davis, president of the Disney Branded Television and VP of Current and Development at Disney Television Animation says the division is a “driving force” for memorable kids and family entertainment.

“All of us at Disney Branded Television are so proud of the studio’s 40-year legacy as it continues to entertain future generations with shows like ‘Kiff,’ ‘Big City Greens’ and ‘Mickey Mouse Clubhouse 2.0" --- Davis says.

Those creators who come to DTVA often stay for a long time, partnering with the studio on a variety of different projects or expanding on a hit and reimagining it for the next generation of viewers. “The Proud Family” was a standout in 2001 on Disney Channel. Creator and executive producer Bruce W. Smith is now working on the Emmy-winning “The Proud Family: Louder and Prouder,” which is based on the original series. The show follows Penny Proud as she navigates family life and her own childhood.

“Being at Disney TVA has allowed me to realize all my artistic dreams,” says Bruce W. Smith. “As a kid, you always have hopes, thoughts, dreams, ideas and characters that can help lay out those ideas in your head. Disney has allowed me to really tap into my creative instinct, at the end of the day, you have to learn how to trust yourself. Meredith Roberts has been a true shepherd for me in all of this, allowing me to stretch my wings. Because of her belief in me and my ideas, she’s really allowed me to blossom as an artist. All that happened at DTVA.”

“They really seem to be a place that welcomes your ideas,” Dan Povenmire says of Disney TVA. “They want to find people with real strong ideas of the stories they want to tell, and then they let them tell those stories for the most part. They seem to put storytelling and characters over anything. With [‘Phineas and Ferb’], we would write jokes for the kids and the adults in the room because we knew the adults would be there too. We were just careful not to do any double entendres.”

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mimiplaysgames · 17 days

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The Bed Story, ch. 2 (Reflection)

Terraqua Week 2024, Day 2

Terra/Aqua | Terra/Anti-Aqua Rating: M Word count: 4,443 @terraquaweek

Summary: Terra meets Anti-Aqua, and he's sorry for the things they did and didn't do.

Read on AO3

A/N: I was talking to a friend and we counted - counting the separate fics that are in my anthologies, this is my 40th fic about Terraqua and the Wayfinder Trio. 40!!! To those who were cheering me on from the beginning, thanks for being there. And to those who found me other times, I appreciate you so much! <3

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The library was a place to temper—the best place to spend uninterrupted hours with Aqua, and the best place to keep up appearances. Books and homework were effective eliminators of fervor.

Terra sat on the teal carpet, leaning against a bookshelf of Keyblade history’s oldest tomes, and stretched his long legs, crossing them at the ankles. He kept reading the same sentence over and over, the words shrouding together.

Aqua sat across from him, mimicking his posture. On her lap was a heavy hand-written book where the pages were woven by a ribbon inside a worn leather cover. Affairs of the Heart, the Master of Masters’s stupid magnum opus.

One month left until their Mark of Mastery. Standards for their essays were now entirely reliant on ancient texts, which discussed: the philosophy of connecting your Light to your Keyblade, ethics about fighting the Darkness, and nothing interesting Terra didn’t already know. They were tests to see if they could decipher and regurgitate common knowledge (sometimes nonsense).

Aqua sighed, bringing Affairs closer to her face, as if she needed a magnifying glass to read the text. She nibbled the edge of her lip. Aqua had just cut her hair short, and the desire Terra had for years to tuck it behind her ear intensified. Whenever she tried, it sprung back forward. Terra could do it over and over and it would never stay. It’s cute.

Terra shouldn’t gawk. He cleared his throat. The words in his book ceased to have meaning. “What’s bothering you?”

Aqua’s jaw locked. “For th’re art powers with nay mast’r,” she read.

“In what context?”

“Some Keyblades don’t have Masters.”

Ah. Immediately what came to mind was the Master’s Defender, something ancient and passed along to keepers of the Land of Departure. “Inherited Keyblades.”

“If…” She stopped. The Master of Masters was archaic, and her brows furrowed. She chose her interpretation carefully. She read, “Take thy heart and lodge it yonder chain, and thee shalt findeth a way.”

“A way to what?”

She shrugged. “Using the Keyblades of your comrades.”

“Isn’t chain too strong a word?”

“I think he means link. He must be describing a bond that strong.” Aqua. Always the one to defend the forebears. “Listen to this: Nay fooleth, taketh thy heart and maketh thy star seeth.”

Terra dropped his book to the floor. “I don’t get where this is going.”

“Well, I think he’s using the term star to describe…” She flipped a page. “A Light. Someone equal to you.”

“Or, he’s a clown. I don’t think that book is serious. He wrote vaguely in riddles to confuse everyone.”

“We could try it. Trade our Keyblades.”

Terra strangled a cough. He was really strangling a hopeful laugh. This wasn’t the first time Aqua considered him an equal, but his heart hammered at the thought all the same. Her equal. His and hers.

And this was a very bad idea.

“We tried that when we first conjured our Keyblades,” Terra said. Explosions happened. Earthshaker was desperate and too demanding. Rainfell was sensitive to emotion and needed control.

Aqua straightened the pages with reverence. “We were kids.”

“It was a disaster, or did you forget? We nearly burned down the garden. Rabbits were threatened, Aqua. Innocent rabbits.”

“And we didn’t know each other as well.”

“What difference does that make?”

Aqua licked her lips. Terra smiled. She was about to lecture. “Our Keyblades are an extension of our hearts, yes? And our Light is stronger through the bonds we make, therefore not only do our Keyblades become stronger, they shine more around the people we are connected to the most.”

“You’re saying we’re good friends. How sweet.”

She rolled her eyes and flipped to a previous page and pointed to a sentence. “It says here, To knoweth thy Key is to knoweth who is’t thee lodging thy trust.”

“So you trust me?”

She kicked his hip with the side of her foot—and Terra captured it, pulling her until her ass dragged on the floor.

“No, I don’t,” she said, laughing. “Obviously.”

He let her go. Then Terra felt the void. It haunted him more frequently at every ghost of her touch—a pat on his shoulder, a punch to the bicep, when she straightened his bangs, an accidental brush against her shoulder. Always through clothes—Terra never had a good excuse to casually run his fingers on bare skin.

Aqua rolled forward to her knees and leaned on him thigh-to-thigh. No void now, but a pressing worry over the possibility that one day, she would meet someone else that she would want to be touched by. She flipped the book over to show him.

Terra didn’t take it. He couldn’t even read. Her thigh, her thigh, her thigh.

“Why is this that important to you?”

Aqua took the book back, surprised. “Well… do you know what this means for old Keyblades that are passed around?”

Terra bit his cheek. “It means we have a lot to prove to a Keyblade like Defender.”

Aqua nodded. “The Master’s guest has a similar Keyblade.”

Terra leaned forward and nearly took her chin in his hand. He kept it balled to his stomach. “Don’t tell me you’re worried about him.”

She raised her eyebrows. “I am, actually. We have this stranger judging us without knowing everything we went through. Think about it. If we could wield each other’s Keyblades, it will impress the Master and his guest. Prove to them that our bond is strong and we deserve to pass together. Prove to them that we can wield our inheritances when the time comes.”

This late into their study? “Does the great Master mention how it’s supposed to feel?” he asked. “When we correctly do it?”

When they touched each other’s Keyblades as children, Aqua ran back to her room crying. She had said Earthshaker was “nervous,” in her words. But Terra knew better. His heart exposed like that, it became easy to read, and Terra couldn’t talk to her for days after. Truthfully, he was ashamed that she sensed his insecurity, feeling how he compared himself to her, how he was frustrated with being two years older but at the same level as her, how he was obsessed with falling behind and keeping up and excelling—all within the open aorta that was his immature Keyblade. Probably felt sorry for him, too.

And the other truth? Terra cried by himself in his own room when she didn’t know. Rainfell was confident, radiant, expansive despite Earthshaker being bigger, and Terra couldn’t mimic that.

Aqua didn’t look at him when she said, “He mentioned the word ascendance. It’s supposed to feel like we’re leaning on a friend.” She smiled at him. Did she feel the same about his own thigh or did it not register in her head at all? “I know we can trust each other’s Keyblades. It shouldn’t be hard this time.”

Terra didn’t want to do it, but they built a metric relationship by testing the waters, by challenging each other, correcting technique, pushing and pushing and pushing to be better. If he backed out, Aqua would take it as though something was wrong.

Nothing was wrong. Terra was in love.

What he must do was commit the same calm control Aqua had with Rainfell.

Besides, he needed a win. Side by side for the Mark of Mastery, he needed proof he could stand next to her.

“Let’s do it.”

She beamed.

~*~

The library is destroyed. It has (had) multiple floors, but the upper levels are now barrages of torn shelves and mounds of books that make it impossible to climb the stairs. There’s no way to reach the shelf that houses Affairs of the Heart, but Terra tries looking anyway. Maybe the Master or Ven left it on a table before… everything. But it’s not anywhere. For the time being, Terra gets no answers to any of the lingering questions he has about how to help Aqua. Only a wish to cure her.

The rest of the castle is just as damaged. The east wing is entirely gone, and the west crumbles in most hallways, leaving gaping holes that invite broken bones. Rain pours through the open wounds on the roof, and seeps through the cracks on the walls, spreading mold. Terra’s bedroom is gone, half-collapsed over the cliff below, but Ven’s and Aqua’s are intact.

The kitchen is submerged underneath its ceiling. A cauldron remains. Ven helps by pushing it while Terra pulls. When they drag it into the Master’s study, which is untouched, Terra knocks over a lamp with the bump of his hip.

“I don’t understand,” Terra says, catching the lamp before it shatters on the floor. “Explain to me what happened like I’m five.”

Ven scowls when he inspects how dusty his hands got because of the cauldron. He claps them.

“Well,” Ven starts like he’s talking to a child. “Once upon a time, the Master was mad at me. Terra came and saved me. Terra threw me in a voooortex—I know that’s a difficult word to pronounce—so I didn’t see what happened. Aqua said—”

“Ven.”

“Aqua said she locked me away in an alternate universe of the castle to keep me safe.”

“With the Master’s Defender. Some secret only Masters know.”

“Yeah, and she woke me up again. Well, no. I mean, Sora was the one to officially wake me up. Aqua transformed the castle back with” —Ven waves his hands like he doesn’t know how to describe it— “her incredible new powers. It’s like time went backwards or something.”

It’s impressive how Darkness can bypass a Keyblade’s spell. Then again, the Land of Departure is in the same condition Xehanort left it, from his own Dark curses.

“Why not use the Defender?”

“We need a duster in here.”

“Ven.”

“I don’t know. She said Defender doesn’t respond to her anymore.” Ven shrugs.

Terra taps his fingers on the cauldron. Everything he’s been learning about what happened while he slept—stars, why would anyone want him alive right now?

“How is she?”

Ven scratches his shoulder. “She’s still outside.”

Staring at the Master’s memorial, in the rain, exactly where they left her. That's most of what she does now. Stare blankly.

“At least she’s nice to me,” Ven says. “She hates everyone else.”

Terra inhales, gritting his teeth. Does Aqua have a shorter fuse? Yes. Does she judge people? Only when they truly deserve it. But hate? No. That is not Aqua.

"You're exaggerating."

"Pssh. Just wait until she wants to kill you."

Terra almost says, I don't blame her, but he keeps it to himself.

In the study is an ashen fireplace full of debris. The Master’s personal journals are scattered on his desk, and his favorite books—tomes, novels, children’s books he used to read to Terra—lay on a private shelf opposite. With how little it’s been disturbed, it’s almost as if the Master could open the door, ask them both why the cauldron has been moved here, to please move it back to the kitchen, and not to worry about the state of the castle. It can and will be fixed.

Except there’s so much to be worried about. Thunder strikes the ground, and it sounds close. Rain pummels down the window, leaving a blurred view of storm clouds hiding the mountains.

“There’s no mirror here,” Ven says.

Terra would chuckle, but nothing is funny anymore. “Why are you worried about mirrors?”

“Aqua’s making them all weird. I see things like… nevermind, I don’t want to talk about it. Can you help me take mine out of my room?”

Terra wants to collapse. Everything is weird. “Sure.”

“Where are you going to sleep?”

There’s a loveseat in the study, but Terra’s too tall, so he’ll need to find some clean blankets and nest on the burgundy rug. “Here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“What’s the cauldron for?”

Earthshaker still won’t answer when Terra commands it to. “I just need something to occupy my mind.”

“Okay.” Ven doesn’t believe him. That’s because Terra is a terrible liar.

To shut out the silence, Terra pats Ven’s shoulder and says, “Come on. Let’s get your mirror out.”

They leave the mirror in the resident hallway, at Ven’s request that it’s left facing the wall.

That night, it’s still storming, the wind howling like it’s crying. Which is a problem. The Land of Departure is supposed to be the balance of Light and Darkness. These storms aren’t normal. Lightning flashes purple, then green, then red. The rain leaves smears of muck. Aqua isn’t normal. Nothing is normal.

Terra needs to busy his mind.

The way back into the kitchen isn’t safe. Terra jumps over a hole that spawns beneath his feet, and crawls under columns that have fallen over to get to the pantry. Carefully, so he doesn’t trigger a complete cave in. He grabs every herb he can safely reach.

Terra then spends hours removing stone slab after stone slab from the fireplace, some rotten with mold. He pushes the cauldron over the wood, ignites it with a Fire spell, and waits for the water to boil. As thunder rumbles outside, Terra rips dried leaves from stems and mixes them with magic-induced powders that the Master concocted years ago.

It’s quiet. In normal times, he would be knocking on Aqua’s door, and they would sit on her bed and talk about what happened until morning. Normally, the castle lanterns would be lit, offering safe passage at night.

“What are you doing?”

Terra jumps at Aqua’s steady voice and nearly drops the ladle. She’s standing at the doorway. The light from the fire slices half her face in shadow. Her golden eyes glow.

“I didn’t hear you come in.”

Aqua walks up to the Master’s desk, and it’s no wonder why. Her steps don’t make a sound. She places a silver hand mirror on the desk, face down. He recognizes it: she keeps it in her vanity drawer.

Terra turns his attention back to his potions. He feels terrible thinking this, but it’s nauseating to look at her. Her body oozes black smoke when she moves, and when he crosses her path in the halls, he finds her staring randomly at the walls, at statues, at shredded stained glass. When she notices his presence, he turns the opposite direction.

It’s not that she’s hideous. It’s that he wants to pretend her condition is not his crime.

He can feel her staring at his back.

“Do you remember these storms?” he asks. They pass through the Land of Departure every twenty years, and lucky Terra and Aqua were around to see the last one. The Master had locked them up in this very study, while he braved the outside and fought this dark energy. The fact that another one is at their doorstep a year early is an omen.

A pause. “Yes.”

Terra inhales to stop himself from crying. She sounds like she will never smile again. More than that, there’s a buried edge to her voice and it crawls over Terra’s skin. Like he’s around a predator, his hairs stand and he’s careful not to trigger an attack.

“Look at me.”

Terra pretends to lean over the cauldron to mix, and lets the onslaught of steam threaten his fear away. Feel pain here, assaulting his face, and it overrides the pain of looking at her face.

But he can’t pretend forever. He finishes his “work,” and he turns. This frown is so unnatural for her—still and unmoving, like she’s dead. In better times, her frown made him laugh.

“Don’t like what you see?” She leans on the desk.

Her face, her jawline that he wants to stroke with his knuckle, sad and torn up. She’s beautiful, and she’s a reminder of every mistake Terra has made.

“It’s not like that,” Terra whispers, and he stares at his shoes.

“Look at me.” Stronger, with vice.

He does, reading her angry eyes, her bleached hair, the claws like needles into the wood. Her lips, pursed and tense. The length of her neck. The color of Darkness spreading over her arms. Her bare shoulders, the straps he’s taken off before.

“I’m sorry,” he says, her face blurring. Hot tears leave burn marks on his cheeks.

Her claws scrape the desk as she stands back up. “I don’t care about your apology.”

“I know what you’re thinking—”

“No, you don’t.”

“Aqua…” He licks his lips, and they taste like salt. Thunder roars. “We have to fix the castle. To protect us. These storms are dangerous.”

“Oh.” She crosses her arms. “How bad.”

Stars, he sounds so stupid, considering what she survived. “We have to think of Ven.”

Again, that predatory feeling that she’s smothers into control. Terra braces for an attack, but none come. “You think I don’t?”

“Stars,” he curses. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I have already taken care of his room. He’ll be fine.”

Terra swallows what feels like thick goo down his throat. “Okay. Thank you.”

“I’m here to take care of this room.”

Terra gapes. He’s expecting her to summon Rainfell, and bless the walls to keep him safe from the storm. But she doesn’t. She’s standing there, glaring at him.

But of course—the shadows that dance with the light from the hearth dance on their own. They shift and warp. She’s creating a barrier for him with her Darkness.

“I get it, you know,” he says.

She doesn’t respond.

He continues, “You feel more in control like this.”

Her jaw locks. He studies her, really studies her. Her Light is still there but it’s faint. Rainfell is muted. Before, her power was like the sun— too bright to look straight on, but one you can gaze at it in the reflection of water. Now it’s like… the wick of a flame in the fog.

Terra has a faint memory of being in the dark and a star dissolving in front of him. Well, star isn’t a strong enough word for Aqua’s Light before the Guardian overpowered it and infected her with whatever this is. The Guardian wanted a sun, and the Guardian sucked all its hydrogen.

“We can help you,” he says, standing taller.

“How are you suggesting?”

“Maybe… we can remove the shroud—”

“Exorcism.”

“No—”

“I’m not broken.”

“No.” A nervous laugh escapes his mouth. “Of course not. You’re strong.”

“Don’t,” she snaps, snarling. She lowers her voice. “Call me strong. It isn’t fair.”

Terra nods, and blinks away from her, wishing his tears would stop. She’s right. Nothing, including his tears, is fair to her.

“Look at me,” she says, gentler. She walks forward, her body warping through the desk like she’s made of mist and there’s nothing solid in her way. “Everyone averts their eyes. But I hate it when you do.”

Terra runs reasons in his mind to be brave. For her. For her pain. For his punishment. His tears now dribble off his chin.

“Do you have any idea how much I wanted to hear your voice all that time?” she says, stepping up to his face. She compresses one claw against his throat, right under his jaw. “How quiet it was when I couldn’t?”

This isn’t what Terra had expected his future to be, if a miracle were to happen and they would be this close again. For hours that seemed like years and years that were millennia, Terra asked the stars if he could touch her one more time. Hand in hand, that was all he asked for.

“Yes. I do.” He sniffs. She presses harder and Terra grits his teeth from the pressure. “I couldn’t hear or see anything. All I did was dream memories. It was torture—”

“Torture,” she mumbles. She presses even harder that her claw stings. How is she this close to him when he perceives her so far? So close, their hips inches apart.

“Yes.” Terra swallows but can’t. “Aqua, all I had were daydreams of when I could see you and Ven again.”

Silence. She tucks her white hair behind her ear with her free hand, and it falls forward. The claw under his jaw shifts, and the artery at his throat throbs. She leans near, almost to kiss him, when she stops just before her lips grace his.

“You’re breathing,” she whispers.

His blood pumps. That’s what this is. She’s measuring his pulse, that he’s real under her touch.

She’s still Aqua. Just weird. Weird like a jewel unrefined, still in its geode. For years, Terra hasn’t felt, hasn’t touched, only yearned. The restraint he has with her this close dissolves from tears of what-ifs.

Brave, be brave. He removes her hand, clutches it to his heart, and leans toward her. Leans until their foreheads almost touch, until he takes her cheek and strokes it with his thumb. Testing their distance, looking into gold while gold looks into blue. Gold glances down to his lips.

He kisses her. Her lips are cold like she’s been in the snow, and it reminds him of bright mornings in white. Of dark, cozy nights by the fire. Of the wonder of seasons when he was young. Her lips are cold like steel when they’re soft against his, and he savors them when he hasn’t savored anything for twelve years. Her lips are no longer the way he remembers them, but they’re Aqua. And the tongue he needs is Aqua, and the sigh she gives him is her. When he lets go, she’s dazed, with his shirt balled in her fist and staring at the wall behind his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he says, letting go of the arm wrapped around her waist. “I couldn’t help it.”

“You know,” she says, “I can’t feel much.”

He peels off the claw that’s nearly tearing a hole in his shirt, and rubs it between his hands, over her scales, trying to thaw her. “Do you feel this?”

Aqua watches him work. “Faintly.”

“I can make you tea.” Cinnamon would be best considering its strong flavor, but it’s in the pantry, mixed with plaster. “Just give me a day so I can buy some.”

She says nothing.

Terra exhales his anxiety, and brings her knuckles to his lips. The rubbing hasn’t helped. She’s still icy, and he wants to wrap her with his body, throw fleece over her face. “I can make you something now if you want. You’ll feel better.”

“Better,” she mutters, as if this offends her. She pulls her hand away. Her ice ghosts from his palms in waves, where his blood pumps warmth back with a tingling feeling. He can’t deal with the emptiness between them. When she turns away from him, he clasps her wrist. “Aqua—”

“I’m done with the room.” She dodges his hold. She makes him feel like his touch is accidental.

“Please…” He doesn’t say, Don’t slip from me again. What should he say? Stay? Can we go to your room?

He doesn't mention they were supposed to find a hiding place for themselves the night they were supposed to be Masters together. Do they even have the same dream anymore?

“There’s… a lot we need to talk about," he continues. "Between us. What happened in the Realm of Darkness. What happened the night before the Mark of Mastery?”

She doesn’t say anything. Not at first. “I thought about that night all the time.”

“I did, too.”

Again Aqua has no response.

“There’s no going back, is there?” he asks, afraid of the answer. “For us?”

She doesn’t confirm.

“The mirror should help you see.” She slips away. The void screams when she silently leaves the room, past the firelight’s barrier.

The hand mirror is as cold as her hands, unbending metal in his tight grip. He flips it over. In his reflection is himself—white hair, golden eyes, smirking in a way unnatural to him. Faded horns hover behind the crown of his head. The Guardian tucked away, a most loyal dog.

So Terra and this anti version of Aqua understand each other better than he realizes. Even with clothes on, they’re naked. She finds herself more powerful now than she was before, and can rely on her new strength. A comforting thought for her, not having to wait for others anymore.

The truth that matches hers? Terra was stronger when Darkness overtook him, too. And he hates himself for it. Hates himself for wishing Xehanort was alive and lingering in the back of his mind, trapped like Terra was, so Terra could ask what he should do about Aqua, and Xehanort the wise would have an answer.

He hates himself for being a dog in the first place. Isn’t the Guardian a literal manifestation of what Terra’s heart truly is? A Keybearer is supposed to be a source of Light—they need Light within their heart in order to summon a Keyblade. Maybe the Guardian is proof Terra shouldn’t wield one anymore. Maybe Earthshaker has been swallowed.

He throws the mirror into the cauldron and listens to the glass shatter. Maybe this little shred of her Darkness would make his potion more powerful.

Terra gathers blankets from wardrobes that are still intact, and layers them together to make a bed between the loveseat and the coffee table. When he’s done filling vials with potions, he lies on his back and stares at the ceiling. There’s a crack too close to the chandelier. It could fall and crush him.

Terra exhales and suppresses the need to cry. He closes his eyes and rolls to his side, but the floor is too rock solid and his bones ache. He uses his arm as a pillow, and sighs. Given enough time, with the rain tapping on the windows and the fireplace alive with groans and cracks, Terra actually catches some sleep.

Until his eyes snap open in the middle of the night. The firelight is dead, and it’s black-dark. Rain still knocks on the windows. On his side, he’s looking at a shadow hiding under the table. The hair on his neck rises—whoever is there is staring back, and he expects a claw to smite and scratch him.

Lightning strikes—it illuminates no one looking back.

Behind him though is a predator, sitting on the loveseat, watching his back. Terra pretends he’s still asleep.

Ven apparently didn’t sleep much either. The next morning, Terra asks about Aqua. Ven says he woke up every hour and he noticed she spent the entire night not in her bed, but wandering the castle.

#terraqua #terraquaweek #kh terra #kh aqua #kh ventus #anti aqua #my fic

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deadpresidents · 3 months

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what do you think the chances are of a 35 year old president some day?

It's not impossible, but probably unlikely. Unfortunately, it's always going to be difficult for a 35-year-old candidate to have built up the political organization and harvest enough political and financial connections to be ready for seeking a party's nomination at that age. I don't think a 35-year-old would necessarily be less ready than an older candidate as long as the quality of their experiences was strong enough to complete with the length of experience that their opponent might have.

I think the average age of Presidents at the time of their first inauguration is around 55 years old, but we've had nine Presidents who took office before they turned 50 years old: •Theodore Roosevelt: 42 years, 322 days •John F. Kennedy: 43 years, 236 days •Bill Clinton: 46 years, 154 days •Ulysses S. Grant: 46 years, 311 days •Barack Obama: 47 years, 169 days •Grover Cleveland: 47 years, 351 days •Franklin Pierce: 48 years, 101 days •James A. Garfield: 49 years, 105 days •James K. Polk: 49 years, 122 days And of those nine Presidents under 50 years old, eight of them were elected directly to the Presidency. Only Theodore Roosevelt succeeded to the office from the Vice Presidency, and when he was elected President in his own right in 1904 and inaugurated for his elected term, he was still younger (46 years, 128 days) than every other President in history other the JFK. So despite the age of the major party nominees in the last couple of elections, this country has elected quite a few relatively young Presidents.

We've also elected a lot of young Vice Presidents and the Vice Presidency, of course, is always just a heartbeat away from the main gig. There have been twelve (12) Vice Presidents inaugurated before they turned 50 years old, and three others took office before turning 51. The average age (on Inauguration Day) of the Vice Presidents is roughly the same as the average age of Presidents, but two Vice Presidents were elected in their 30s. John C. Breckinridge, who was Vice President under James Buchanan (1857-1861), was only 36 years, 42 days old when he was inaugurated, so he was barely old enough to meet the Constitutional age qualifications for the Presidency and Vice Presidency. And Richard Nixon was only 39 years old when he was first elected as Dwight D. Eisenhower's Vice President in 1952. Nixon celebrated his 40th birthday right before he was inaugurated as Vice President and was 40 years, 11 days old on Inauguration Day.

Part of the reason that both Breckinridge and Nixon were chosen as VP was to balance out the ticket due to the "advanced" age of their running mates. When Nixon was nominated alongside General Eisenhower in 1952, there were questions about whether or not Eisenhower might be too old for the Presidency. Eisenhower was 62 years, 98 days old when he was inaugurated -- nearly 20 years younger than President Biden and 17 years younger than Donald Trump. In fact, when he was first inaugurated, Dwight Eisenhower was younger than George Clooney currently is:

So that's a long way and a lot of information shared for me to come back to the point that it's not impossible, but pretty unlikely for a 35-year-old to be elected President. I think there's a better chance that someone that age would be elected Vice President.

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karouvas · 1 year

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lottienat, taivan and jackieshauna for the ship thing

Lottienat

I love an on the surface opposites attract cynical x hopeful realist vs (albeit extreme) idealist ship but where they actually have a bit more in common than you’d expect. Ticks certain boxes in that

Nat is a character who to me, is so often wound up and tasked with the provider/protector role or when she’s not and she does accept help it’s removed help like what Tai gives her, I like the aspect of even when Lottie gets on her nerves she can put Nat at ease enough to be taken care of like in the 2x05 scene and generally in their adult timeline scenes

Lottie can really benefit from someone pragmatic and critical like Nat, I think she assumes only her blind followers will really care about her and Nat meeting her as an equal and clashing with her but still caring proves her wrong

Taivan

first of all just everything about this current storyline for adult them! so good!! the references to how Divorced they are (and I think it adds definitively more flavor to know they were together at Shauna’s wedding, we know their break up (at least the last one). The mix of affection that’s there are wariness, and harsher tensions especially on Van’s end so good! And while Tai is definitely operating primarily from a selfish place and as per Tawny’s interview not a very romantic one towards anyone love that she seems slightly more tender/is concerned by Van’s lack of tenderness when it is Van. Also in my I love adultery in fiction era in a sense so this arc arrived at the perfect time for me!

Both pairs of actresses have such good chemistry imo definitely some of the best I’ve seen for canon wlw ships recently. Especially Jasmin & Liv’s is so strong and also like… warm in a way that’s so charming.

Like Lottienat it’s a believer/idealist x skeptic/cynic ship and I like that concept for a ship

Jackieshauna

starting with something i don’t think I’ve specifically focused on as much when I talk about them but that I definitely feel strongly about: I love them as an exploration of complicated grief… like there are just so many different layers to Shauna’s grief and it’s such a huge defining loss like that time she told Callie about being given Jackie’s uniform for her 40th birthday and feeling like she’d spent so much of her life thinking about her… and I love the Jackievisions for that reason too (also in a more strictly romantic context just the idea of being haunted by a love in that way rules)

I just love these types of relationships (which anyone familiar with me and my tastes would know) these codependent teen girl friendships that end tragically in some way. And women “making/shaping” other women in terms of crafting their image or what they emulate. the element of literal consumption and just the focus on consumption of all sorts with them adds another layer/takes the concept to a level most shows wouldn’t commit to in terms of exploring the idea I’m very into all of it.

phrase I say a lot about romance: it’s about the Repression tm + also the Obsession tm

(this was for an ask game I reblogged ‘send me a ship and I’ll tell you three things I like about it’)

#thank you <3 #s speaks #loverdives #yellowjackets #lottienat #taivan #jackieshauna #taissa x van #jackie x shauna #lottie matthews #natalie scatorccio #taissa turner #van palmer #shauna shipman #jackie taylor #asks #mutuals #my meta

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eternal-echoes · 2 years

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“The history of relations between the Jewish and Christian communities has been complex and often painful. There were blessed times when the two lived together peacefully, but there was also the expulsion of the Jews from Cologne in the year 1424.

And in the 20th century, in the darkest period of German and European history, an insane racist ideology, born of neo-paganism, gave rise to the attempt, planned and systematically carried out by the regime, to exterminate European Jewry. The result has passed into history as the Shoah.

The victims of this unspeakable and previously unimaginable crime amounted to 11,000 named individuals in Cologne alone; the real figure was surely much higher. The holiness of God was no longer recognized, and consequently, contempt was shown for the sacredness of human life.

This year, 2005, marks the 60th anniversary of the liberation of the Nazi concentration camps, in which millions of Jews - men, women and children - were put to death in the gas chambers and ovens.

I make my own the words written by my venerable Predecessor on the occasion of the 60th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz and I too say: "I bow my head before all those who experienced this manifestation of the mysterium iniquitatis. " The terrible events of that time must "never cease to rouse consciences, to resolve conflicts, to inspire the building of peace" (Message for the Liberation of Auschwitz, 15 January 2005).

…

This year also marks the 40th anniversary of the promulgation of the Second Vatican Council's Declaration Nostra Aetate, which opened up new prospects for Jewish-Christian relations in terms of dialogue and solidarity. This Declaration, in the fourth chapter, recalls the common roots and the immensely rich spiritual heritage that Jews and Christians share.

Both Jews and Christians recognize in Abraham their father in faith (cf. Gal 3: 7; Rom 4: 11ff.), and they look to the teachings of Moses and the prophets. Jewish spirituality, like its Christian counterpart, draws nourishment from the psalms. With St Paul, Christians are convinced that "the gifts and the call of God are irrevocable" (Rom 11: 29; cf. 9: 6, 11; 11: 1ff.). In considering the Jewish roots of Christianity (cf. Rom 11: 16-24), my venerable Predecessor, quoting a statement by the German Bishops, affirmed that "whoever meets Jesus Christ meets Judaism" (Insegnamenti, Vol. III/2, 1980, p. 1272).

The conciliar Declaration Nostra Aetate therefore "deplores feelings of hatred, persecutions and demonstrations of anti-Semitism directed against the Jews at whatever time and by whomsoever" (n. 4). God created us all "in his image" (cf. Gn 1: 27) and thus honoured us with a transcendent dignity. Before God, all men and women have the same dignity, whatever their nation, culture or religion.

…

On the basis of our shared human dignity the Catholic Church "condemns as foreign to the mind of Christ any kind of discrimination whatsoever between people, or harassment of them, done by reason of race or colour, class or religion" (n. 5).”

- Pope Benedict XVI, VISIT TO THE SYNAGOGUE OF COLOGNE, 19 August 2005

#Catholic #Christianity #quotes #Pope Benedict

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greensparty · 7 months

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BEST MOVIE RE-RELEASE OF 2023

There were loads of new releases in 2023, but in terms of re-releases in movie theaters, here was the best of 2023:

1. Stop Making Sense Jonathan Demme

Jonathan Demme’s 1984 doc of Talking Heads’ legendary concerts in Hollywood got the re-release it deserved. To celebrate the 40th anniversary of those 1983 concerts, a special 4K and IMAX release came from A24. There is a reason this is considered the greatest concert film of all time! Both Demme and Talking Heads were in their prime: a meeting of the minds that still stands up today!

#best of 2023 #lists #movie re-releases #film geek #stop making sense #talking heads #jonathan demme

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man-in-crisis999 · 8 months

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Questioning Friendship (Full Article)

FRIENDSHIP IN MIDLIFE?

I’ve started to think about the term ‘friendship’. If you are a man circumferencing middle age in the UK what does friendship actually mean to you? Men and women approach friendship in different ways, us men have misunderstood what friendship actually means.

Remembering back to my teenage years I had much closer friends. Before the times of regular pub dwelling, friends and I would meet often, play football, talk about girls, music, movies, computer games, fashion, popularity, sex and other limitless conversation topics. The conversation would inevitably lead to prospective talks on losing one's virginity to girls that were far beyond our attraction remit. Our bonds were much stronger in youth, we still teased each other and laughed at each other's shortcomings but that wasn’t the foundation of our friendships. If any of my friends were in trouble I would always have their back and defend them, in return they would have mine.

My experience in adulthood has been somewhat different. When alcohol and pubs entered the fray my male friendships started to change and deteriorate. No longer did we go to the movies or have outdoor excursions together, we didn’t camp or go fishing, we didn’t paddleboard or holiday together. Instead we developed a weekly meeting in the pub. These weekly public house meetings quickly grew into an array of group slander banter for a cheap laugh over a booze up. General conversation had left the building. And I was taking part and not really noticing how my friendships were changing.

I have always been quite a deep thinker which probably arises from the music, art and movies I am influenced by. As I matured as a man I began to understand the shallowness of the weekly pub meet. This meet was simply an excuse to go out and drink alcohol, to get away from the missus and enjoy that ‘Male Banter’. Now don’t misunderstand me, I like a good laugh just as much as the next person but at some point the banter (I detest this word) has to stop. Our relationships became less about friendship and more about convenience. We never phoned each other, we never met up for coffee or a chat, we never spoke much outside of the pub. I looked at my friends and eventually could only see empty people. I had absolutely no connection with them whatsoever, I didn’t even like them anymore.

It was only when I met my ex-partner did I start to enjoy another person's company again. We developed that bond that I was so desperate for. Subsequently we met other couples, shared dinners and house parties. We’d host Eurovision nights, family evenings and talk with our new friends about almost everything. I was happy. I firmly believe that happiness comes from good relationships with others. We are not designed to be alone. Which is why I felt so alone in my 20’s even though I had many many so called ‘friends’.

Inevitably in modern day society my romantic relationship faltered and my partner and I separated. The friends that we had made together I had to let go of. I tried to stay in touch with them but it phased out and I was back to the weekly pub meetup. This time it was even worse and I could hardly even stand listening to the crap they came out with. They would try the banter and teasing with me but I’d lost the capacity for it and just laughed it off whilst swallowing the vomit from my stomach. Why was I here again with these people? I had nothing else.

At this point I was approaching my 40th birthday. I had no real friends, no children and no partner. I was at a low point. I could see why so many men struggle after relationship breakdowns. Sometimes we are literally left with nothing. I am sure this is a huge contributing factor for the rise in male suicides we see across the country because I have been there, and have had thoughts about that at the time. I had lost my partner who I’d built my life around, lost all the friends we had together, lost the family bonds we had built. I was living alone. The weekly pub meet was never going to be enough for me and I quickly stopped and phased out those people from my life. I had to rebuild everything. During this time I had to be very strong and rely on my immediate family for support. For that I am so grateful.

As a middle aged man, making new male friends is extremely difficult. People usually, by this age, have made their family and friends and are comfortable in the life they have.

Fortunately I have found good friendships and have made one or two close friends. Those friendships are real and we regularly meet up for all sorts of different activities. The new friends I have now have all felt the way I was feeling after their own separation or divorce; completely alone. We now realise our mistake of not having built our own foundations/friendships to rely on. We understand what friendship is and how important it is. What we have to realise is that us men; are extremely vulnerable to loneliness. Imagine a man in his 50’s. He’s going through a divorce and has two children with his wife. His wife gains majority custody of the children and the man has to move out of the family home. He has to move somewhere new entirely. His life has been literally ripped from underneath his feet. He has to start again from scratch in his 50’s. His wife would usually keep the friends she has and the ones thay have made together and the man is left with absolutely nothing. How do you think he feels in his new life? Where are HIS friends? These are the building blocks of depression leading to suicide and men need to start supporting each other and being there for one and other like we did in our youth.

#midlife crisis #malehealth #mental health #men #my writing

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kyreniacommentator · 11 months

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Ataoğlu attends the meeting of TURKSOY

TRNC Deputy Prime Minister, Minister of Tourism, Culture Youth and Environment Fikri Ataoğlu attended the 40th Term Meeting of the Permanent Council of Ministers of Culture of the Member States of the International Organisation of Turkic Culture (TURKSOY) held on October 13th-14th 2023 in Shusha, the ancient city of Azerbaijan and Cultural Capital of the Turkic World 2023. Continue reading…

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#40th Term Meeting #AZERBAIJAN #Fikri Ataoglu #International Organisation of Turkic Culture (TURKSOY)#Permanent Council of Ministers #TRNC Deputy Prime Minister #Turkic world

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mariacallous · 1 year

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Chinese leader Xi Jinping plans to visit Moscow for his 40th face-to-face meeting with Russian President Vladimir Putin. This visit will occur roughly one year after Russia invaded Ukraine and against the backdrop of reports that China is considering providing lethal assistance to Russia’s military.

Over the past year, China has expanded trade links with Russia and amplified Russian propaganda. Chinese authorities have defended Russia’s actions and accused NATO and the West of fomenting war in Ukraine. Unsurprisingly, American and European public opinion of China has plummeted. China’s embrace of Russia throughout its invasion of Ukraine certainly contributed to this trend.

Even so, as Xi’s upcoming visit makes clear, Beijing remains firmly committed to growing its relationship with Moscow. Some ascribe this orientation to Xi’s strong personal bond with Putin. This may play a small role. Xi has, after all, described Putin as his “best friend.” Even so, in my personal experiences around Xi and my study of his leadership over the past decade, Xi has proven himself to be uniquely unsentimental. He is a cold-blooded calculator of his and his country’s interests above all else.

China’s three goals

China’s leaders appear guided by three top objectives in their approach to Russia. The first is to lock Russia in for the long term as China’s junior partner. Of course, Chinese officials are careful to avoid referring to Russia as such. Instead, they treat Putin with pomp and deference. Xi flatters Putin in ways he does not any other world leader.

It is worth recalling that Xi is old enough to remember when Sino-Russian relations were fraught and the risk of a Sino-Soviet nuclear exchange was real. The two countries fought a border conflict in 1969, when Xi turned 16. During Xi’s formative years, the Soviet Union maintained a massive military presence along the Sino-Soviet border, deploying up to 36 divisions.

For Xi, cementing Russia as China’s junior partner is fundamental to his vision of national rejuvenation. China views the United States as the principal obstacle to its rise. Having to focus on securing its land border with Russia would divert resources and attention from China’s maritime periphery, where Xi feels the most acute threats.

Xi likely also sees the benefit of Russia distracting America’s strategic focus away from China. Neither Beijing nor Moscow can deal with the United States and its partners on its own; they both would rather stand together to deal with external pressure than face it alone. Given China’s dependence on imports for food and fuel, Xi likely also values the secure and discounted supplies of these critical inputs that Russia provides.

China will remain committed to navigating Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in a manner that keeps Russia as its junior partner. Seen through this lens, China’s amplification of Russian propaganda, its continuous diplomatic engagement, its ongoing military exercises, and its expanding trade with Russia all are supportive of its broader objective.

Russia’s strategic value to China requires that Moscow not objectively lose in Ukraine, though. Thus, China’s second objective is to guard against Russia failing and Putin falling.

China has been judicious in its support for Russia over the past year. It reportedly has refrained from providing lethal support to Russia, largely out of self-preservation and self-interest. China has, however, picked up significant slack in its commercial engagement with Russia. As Russia’s trade with the developed world has plummeted, China has stepped in to fill the gap. China-Russia trade exceeded a record-breaking $180 billion last year (roughly one-quarter of the volume of U.S.-China trade).

China’s third objective is to try to de-link Ukraine from Taiwan. Chinese leaders grate at the suggestion that Ukraine today foreshadows Taiwan tomorrow. They want the world to accept that Ukraine is a sovereign state and Taiwan is not, and that the two should not be compared.

This goal informed China’s peace proposal for Ukraine. Chinese diplomats almost certainly will seek to chip away at Ukraine-Taiwan comparisons going forward. In addition to chafing at the increased international attention being devoted to Taiwan’s security, China’s leaders do not want the developed world to treat its response to Russia’s aggression as a warmup for how it would react to future Chinese actions against Taiwan.

The siren call of equating China with Russia

Faced with these Chinese objectives, many American, European, and Asian policymakers might reasonably conclude that there is no prospect for dissolving the Sino-Russian entente, so they should seek instead to frame China and Russia as two sides of the same coin. According to this logic, doing so could cause China to pay as high of a reputational price as possible for being an accomplice to Russia’s barbarism in Ukraine.

This approach will be enticing for policymakers who are focused on forging tighter alignment with partners on China. They will want to leverage Beijing’s diplomatic tilt toward Russia to accelerate alliance coordination in countering China.

There are three main problems with such an approach, though. The first is that focusing on driving up reputational costs on China is insensitive to the suffering of Ukrainians who are struggling to survive Russia’s onslaught. No Ukrainians’ lives will be improved by worsening public perceptions of China.

The second is the risk of creating a self-fulfilling prophecy. If unlimited Chinese support for Russia already is priced in and Beijing risks no further costs for expanding its support for Moscow, then there is a higher likelihood of this becoming a reality.

This leads to the third problem — there are still meaningful things Russia is withholding from China that it conceivably could give if the relationship truly moves toward a “no-limits” partnership. These include Russian support for a greater Chinese role in the Arctic, Russian permission for Chinese forces to access its constellation of bases around the world, Russian support for China’s submarine and anti-submarine warfare programs, and deeper and more directed global intelligence cooperation.

Rather than resign to fatalism about the impotence of diplomacy to influence Chinese strategic choices, now is a moment for world leaders to stimulate Chinese thinking about the significance of the choices they are confronting. Similar efforts over the past year have had some effect. For example, at the urging of German Chancellor Olaf Scholz and others, Xi exhorted against the threat or use of nuclear weapons. China has thus far refrained from proving lethal assistance to Russia. Beijing has not recognized the breakaway republics in Ukraine.

Focus areas for diplomacy

Looking forward, there are two baskets of issues where the United States and its partners should think carefully about how to most effectively protect their interests in relation to China, Russia, and Ukraine.

The first is tactical. Xi reportedly plans to call Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy following his visit to Moscow. It would be wise for American and European policymakers to follow Zelenskyy’s lead in determining how to characterize and respond to Xi’s outreach. There likely will be a strong impulse in many Western capitals to dismiss Xi’s effort as symbolic posturing aimed at airbrushing China’s image.

China clearly is partisan in its support for Russia. Beijing is not a credible fulcrum for any peace process, though it is conceivable that China could play a role as part of a signing/guaranteeing group for any eventual peace deal. Even so, there is little to be gained by repeating the stampede to dismiss Xi’s outreach to Zelenskyy in the same way that many Western capitals discounted China’s peace plan. The Ukrainians are sober to the scale of the reconstruction bill that awaits them at the end of the fighting. They will both want and need Chinese contributions. As such, it would be best not to open space between Zelenskyy and other Western leaders on how Ukraine should engage China on the way forward.

Second, at a more strategic level, now is a critical moment for global leaders to challenge Xi to clarify China’s interests on the future of the war in Ukraine. For example, will China exercise its leverage to encourage off-ramps and oppose further escalation? Will China condemn attacks on civilians? Will China support future investigations to hold perpetrators of atrocities in Ukraine to account? Will China continue to oppose all threats or uses of nuclear weapons? Will China continue to refrain from recognizing breakaway republics? Will China contribute resources now to lessen the suffering of Ukrainian refugees? Will China commit to materially support Ukraine’s reconstruction?

Now is not the time to give up on diplomacy

There are important opportunities on the horizon for world leaders to coordinate efforts to push Xi to clarify China’s intentions on these and related questions. They include the upcoming planned visits to China of French President Emmanuel Macron and Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni, a possible upcoming visit by Australian Prime Minister Anthony Albanese, an expected phone call between U.S. President Joe Biden and Xi, planning for the China-EU Summit, and Xi’s participation in the G-20 leaders meeting in India in September. The more coordinated world leaders are in pressing Xi to clarify where China stands on some of these fundamental questions, the more impactful such communication would be.

Ultimately, Beijing will not disavow Moscow. Even so, there are still boundaries that can be preserved and Chinese contributions that could be secured to relieve suffering and improve Ukraine’s prospects. It also is imperative to preserve trans-Atlantic unity and limit opportunities for China to drive wedges. None of this would ameliorate deep misgivings about Chinese conduct at home or abroad, but in the world of diplomacy, it would count as progress.

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disneytva · 1 year

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The Paley Museum to Host Disney Channel’s End of Summer Celebration For August 26, 2023 In Honor Of Disney Channel's 40th Anniversary

To celebrate the 40th anniversary of Disney Channel, The Paley Museum will host Disney Channel’s End of Summer Celebration for PaleyFamily Day on Saturday, August 26

For one amazing afternoon, Disney Channel comes to life at The Paley Museum with fun-filled activities to celebrate 40th years of Disney Channel. The interactive experience highlights popular current series from Disney Channel, Disney Junior, and Disney+ including Big City Greens,The Proud Family Louder and Prouder,SuperKitties and Kiff.

Disney Channel’s End of Summer Celebration will take place on Saturday, August 26 from 1:00-4:00 PM.

Doors for the event open at 12:00 pm

Tickets are available now for all Paley members and will be available to the general public Tuesday, August 8 at noon ET.

Disney Channel’s End of Summer Celebration Saturday, August 26, 2023 1:00 to 4:00 pm Doors for the event open at 12:00 pm The Paley Museum, 25 W 52 Street, NYC Don't miss this afternoon of Disney magic! Bring your family to an interactive celebration of Disney Channel’s 40th anniversary. For one amazing afternoon, Disney Channel comes to life at The Paley Museum with fun-filled activities including a chance to meet Bluey and Bingo, your favorite programs on the big IMAX screen, a photo booth, and giveaways.* The interactive experience highlights popular current series from Disney Channel, Disney Junior, and Disney+ including Bluey, High School Musical: The Musical: The Series, Big City Greens, and Bunk’d. Mark your calendars so you don’t miss this one-of-a-kind opportunity for families to experience Disney Channel up close and personal.

Additionaly The Paley Center will host theatrical IMAX screenings of beloved Disney Channel shows and Disney Channel Original Movies to celebrate 40 years, in terms of animation, the screening will include Phineas and Ferb with Rollercoaster/Candace Loses Her Head and Kim Possible's "Crush" at the Goodson Theater from Wednesday, August 9 to Sunday, August 27, 2023

A 40th Anniversary Celebration of Disney Channel Wednesday, August 9 to Sunday, August 27, 2023 Goodson Theater To celebrate Disney Channel’s 40th anniversary, the Paley Center is pleased to present many of Disney Channel’s most popular series and movies over the years. On our large screen, you will be able to experience many of Disney Channel’s most unforgettable characters, including Hannah Montana, Alex Russo, Lizzie McGuire, as well as the energetic casts of The Cheetah Girls and High School Musical. You will also see two beloved animated comedy series, Kim Possible and Phineas and Ferb, which bring delight for the entire family. Enjoy!

12:30 PM

Phineas and Ferb: “Roller-coaster/Candace Loses Her Head" (Episode 1)

Phineas and Ferb invent, scheme, and stay one step ahead of their sister Candace who just wants to catch them up to no good! Their pet platypus Perry lives a double life as a secret agent whose sole mission is to foil Dr. Doofenshmirtz's plans. (2007)

1:45 pm

Kim Possible: “Crush” (Episode 1)

Kim has developed a crush on Josh Mankey, a creative artist-type student at her school. She wants to invite him to a school dance, but keeps balking when she's alone with him. Meanwhile, Dr. Drakken and his new sidekick, Shego, have stolen robotic technology from Japanese toy mogul Nakasumi to build a doomsday robot. With Wade's help, Kim and Ron find Drakken and destroy his new robot. Kim finally builds up the nerve to asks Josh to the dance. (2002)

#Kim Possible #Phineas and Ferb #Big City Greens #BCG #The Proud Family #The Proud Family Louder And Prouder #Proud Family #Proud Family Louder and Prouder #SuperKitties #Kiff #Disney Kiff #Disney Channel #Disney Junior #Disney Jr #Disney+#Disney Plus #Disney Channel 40th Anniversary #Disney Channel 40 Anniversary #The Paley Museum

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justawhimm · 1 year

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you’re real

fandom: cyb//erp//unk 2077

summary: scheduling stuff with a new baby in tow was never ideal, so kerry hoped he could get in and out with this meeting being forced on him. nothing was ever that simple with his babies, though.

chapters: 5/8

content warnings: strange power dynamics, poor understanding of what producers do, transmasculine pregnancy, graphic depiction of childbirth, clothing birth, the objectification of public figures

notes: Well, I guess I won't be getting all of these out before the end of May. Oh, well. That means I'll probably be taking my time with the last 3 chapters, rather than rushing them out. Thank you for understanding. :) Also, I'll be proofreading this in the near future. Don't worry about word/spelling/grammar mistakes. I'll take care of it soon.

Current Year: 2063 Kerry's Age: 74 (almost 75)

cross posted on ao3

Despite what the screamsheets would like to tell you, Kerry's third child was actually planned. Though he was genuinely surprised it could happen, too. With tech being as it was, he guessed it actually wasn't too much of a stretch.

Louise hadn't been able to keep a pregnancy to term, so Kerry thought he'd give it a shot. The fact that it took was the exact opposite of what he'd expected. Hell, he was just about 75 years old! Nearly 75 and having a baby… though, he didn't look it. That was something he prided himself on, just about as much as he had in his early years. He barely looked 40, hot as hell, and he knew it, why not flaunt it?

By the time he was getting to the end of his pregnancy, he was beyond sick of it. While his first two pregnancies never made it to their 40th weeks, this one was very different. Not only had he made it to his 40th week, but he'd made it far past it. Now nearing his 42nd week, he was feeling nothing but resentment toward the fact that he'd willingly agreed to this. The baby would be worth it, but he just wanted to be pissed for a while. He was allowed to have that, at least, right?

Nope. Apparently not.

"He's not going." Kerry could hear Louise from where he was lounging by the pool. Turning his head, he'd spot her with her back turned toward him and arms already crossed. He wanted to be happily distracted by how amazing her body was, but- fuck, he was too damn tired to get excited about any of that right now. Not for a lack of trying. He'd make sure she knew how hot she was soon, though. Whenever this baby came, he'd actually be able to have some rest. Kerry was brought back to the conversation she was having when she spoke again.

"Kerry is still pregnant, Sarge." Oh, fuck. Great. Fucking adored to hear that his manager was calling for him right now. Impatient as they were, he guessed. "He shouldn't be traveling right now, even if it's "just" to go in for a meeting. If you're so bothered, you should come here."

"You tell 'im, babe," Kerry encouraged half-heartedly, grinning to himself. He felt an ache in his back, nothing unusual. There were so many of those damn things at that point. His old bones were not made to be carrying a baby, especially this long.

"Wha– No! You can't do that. He's not breaching contract. This is just–"

"What?" Kerry began to sit up after hearing that. That fucker better not be playing that game with him. "Lulu, don't worry yourself with him. Transfer the call ta me. I'll take care of it." He could. He had to. He wasn't about to let Louise start stressing herself out on his behalf.

"Ker…" She would finally turn herself toward him, her own concerned expression clear on her face. Louise really was beautiful. One of the most stunning women he'd had the pleasure of knowing, and the fact that she gave him the time of day always made him so damn giddy. What he felt with her felt so incredibly different than everything else he'd had with anyone else. "Baby, I can handle it," she would try to assure.

"I know you can, but you don't have to. Lemme handle that asshole."

She looked unsure, but would sigh out in defeat.

"Alright. Transferring you over to Kerry, Sarge." With that, she would take her spot in the lounge chair beside Kerry. They wanted to be able to just relax in the time they had left before the baby came. They didn't need Sergeant Joseph Edens making this more stressful and causing more issues for them.

The call appeared within his bright blue kiroshis, and he couldn't help but roll his eyes before answering it. He got a good look at his manager, looking about as smarmy as ever. He wasn't a bad guy, really. He was just annoying beyond belief, and had a tendency to get Kerry roped into shit he never asked for nor approved of. He was great in other areas, but goddamn he was horrible in others.

"Sarge."

"Kerry!" Sarge's expression lit up over the holo. "You're looking well. Could use to lose a bit of that baby weight–" Laughter bubbled out of his mouth, but Kerry wasn't really putting up with it right now. Especially not when he'd heard what Louise had mentioned.

"Cut it, man. What's this about breachin' contract?"

"I thought you would've had the baby by now, Kerry."

"...And that's relevant how?"

"So I'd scheduled a meeting between us and a few of the producers for the next album. They wanted to discuss some things, as well as when we might be able to schedule the next tour."

"...Ok, that's not a prob. We could set up a holo call, 'r a video call 'r whatever th–"

"Unfortunately not." That made Kerry's expression finally fall, eyes narrowing slightly at the image of his manager.

"Why not?"

"I told them you'd be there in person. They don't want to feel like they're second banana to everything else."

"Sarge, I'm about to have a fuckin' kid. Did you tell them that? I know suits are shits, but surely they'd-"

"Oh, no no no… I told 'em already, Kerry, but they told me we'd be breaching contract if we don't adhere to what they want." This sounded like such shit. Either the suits were pulling some bullshit, or Sarge was misunderstanding. Honestly, both were entirely possible. "It'd just be far easier if you came out here. We'll even send an AV out to get you."

Oh, for fuck sakes. Placing a hand on his stomach, he'd roll his eyes. He glanced over toward Louise, who appeared to be giving him her own look of worry. A look telling him not to let Sarge get his way, but… fuck, Kerry really just didn't give a fuck.

"When is it?"

"Tomorrow morning. 9:30 am."

He was about to get what he wanted. Fuck. Even if something did happen, after all, at least he'd be closer to the hospital. So, what was the harm in it, really?

"Alright, fine. Can't say I'll look great, though. Got practically no clothes ready to go runnin' around in." Sarge let out a hearty chuckle, shaking his head.

"Don't you worry about that! So long as you're there and you're wearing something appropriate, I do not think they'll mind. Thank you. Thank you, Kerry. I'm so sorry about this. With Kelvy and Derr–"

"Don't."

"Right! Right, my mistake. I apologize. With your first two pregnancies, they came so early… I would've thought it was ok to schedule this meeting for now. I would've…"

"Yeah, I get it. Just send the AV tomorrow, and be prepared to call someone in case the kid decides to drop while we're there."

Another laugh.

"Of course, of course! I'll see you tomorrow then!"

Kerry hung up a moment later, the blue glowing of his kiroshis fading and his attention fully going to Louise.

"You're going," she said, exasperated.

"Yeah."

"Kerry, this baby has made you such a pushover," she sighed, swinging her legs over the side of her lounge chair, then reaching over to gently grab her husband's face. She leaned in to press kisses to his cheek and head.

"Not the baby so much as the fact that I'm tired as fuck, Lou. Not in the mood to argue." He'd let her keep showering him in affection, keeping both of his hands rested against the massive swell of his stomach. This was gonna be so damn uncomfortable. He was gonna hang this over Sarge's head for a while. Maybe it would keep that gonk from doing more stupid shit in the future. That was probably way too damn optimistic, though.

"I know, Ker. …What'd Sarge say to get you so snippy with him, though?"

Kerry was quiet for a minute, pulling away slightly from Louise's touch. He was just too achy to be forced to lean toward her like that any longer.

"...He was about to mention her. 'Bout how my other pregnancies were shorter. Y'know. … I just didn't wanna hear her name."

"Oh," Louise's tone softened. She placed a soft hand against her husband's shoulder, "do you want to talk about it?" Kerry shook his head.

"Maybe after the baby comes, but right now? Waterworks're bound to let loose. I'll be alright." He looked toward her with a warm smile. "But thanks, babe."

"Of course."

Over the hours since the call, he'd notice the cramps getting a bit worse. He wasn't stupid. He knew what they had to have been, but he also didn't want to have to go through the motions of everything. Telling Louise, having her insist he not go, and then get into even more shit with Sarge and whichever producers he was probably pissing off just by being pregnant at all.

It had to be done, and if it was gonna take hours for this baby to get here, then he'd rather still get this shit over with and be able to meet Lou at the hospital.

Getting himself into a suit of all things for this felt like a fucking joke. But he'd try. Like he'd warned, he wasn't gonna look astounding. He'd still look like a 10/10, but maybe… a shaky 10/10. A bad night, no makeup, not even any concealer type of 10/10. Kerry showered, he got his hair washed for the first time in almost a week. That had to count for something! They should've been praising him up the ass just for making any sort of effort while he was this damn pregnant.

He was practically falling asleep while standing up as Louise was helping him get dressed. Buttoning up the shirt had quickly been thrown out the window. What would be bad about an open shirt, open suit jacket look, after all? It gave the entire world a good look at the newly acquired stretch marks across his belly.

Unlike the last two times, he'd started getting the marks around his 5th month. Not quite as much elasticity and quick recovery to his skin as when he was younger, apparently. It sure as hell didn't help than he was carrying a whole 5 weeks longer than he had last time, too. They were probably the only thing he was mildly annoyed by with all of this, too. Maybe he'd get another skin rejuvenation after the baby came so he wouldn't have to worry too much about them.

"They won't fit."

The words brought Kerry out of him spacing out, both of his hands pressed against his back as he felt the sharp pains in his back. Fuck, he hated standing for so long of late. Looking down, he'd see Louise looking up at him.

"What doesn't fit?"

"Your pants."

"What? Seriously?" He knew he'd gotten a bit more of an ass from the pregnancy weight, but they were the same cut as his usual pair.

"Baby's dropped a bit more. They're getting ready to come and see us," Louise told him, placing a warm, gentle hand against the curve of her husband's stomach. Kerry let out a groan of irritation. He already felt a few tears trying to form in frustration, though he was trying his hardest to keep them at bay. Eyes looking to the ceiling and trying to blink them away, it wasn't helping much.

"Fucking perfect…"

"It's ok, Ker… How 'bout I find one of my hair ties? My sister had to do the same thing while she was pregnant with the twins. It's nothing to be ashamed of." With another soft sniffle, Kerry would begrudgingly nod his head.

"Alright. Do whatcha need to." Kerry offered out his arm to Louise as a support to help her stand back up, watching as she'd start going through her things to find one of her hair ties. It wouldn't take her long to find a black one, then went back over toward Kerry. Kneeling back down, she got to work on securing them. At least they'd be able to stay in place, without the worry of them becoming loose on him. Due to their snug fit on Kerry's thighs, after all, she doubted they'd really be able to just fall with ease.

Standing back up with Kerry's help again, Louise would take in the sight of her husband. And as much as she wanted to praise him, to tell him how good he looked… he looked a little unkempt.

Not totally, of course. He looked showered, washed, great. But he also looked tired, uncomfortable, and like he wasn't particularly happy with what he was wearing. Not to mention the sweat beading at his forehead.

"You look tired."

"Damn, babe. Ya got me," Kerry chuckled softly, taking slow steps toward the bed so he could sit himself down. Next were the socks and shoes.

"I hope you don't end up sweating too much, Ker. I know you'll be annoyed with it if it keeps up for too long." Handing the shoe horn to Kerry, she'd let him take care of that. A bit of independence he could manage without getting too exerted. In the meantime, Louise got a tissue and began to dab at his sweat brow. "Stood too long?"

"Yeah," he lied. His contractions were noticeable by this point. Prominent. Annoying, but not unbearable. This was only gonna be a couple of hours, though. Once they were done, Kerry would just have Sarge take him over to the hospital. Worst comes to worst, he might just need Trauma Team to come get him. For once, he was actually going to make it to a damn hospital to have this kid, whether he liked it or not. "He said the whole thing starts at 9:30. Got a clue what time it is?"

"A quarter past 8. The AV should be here soon, right?"

"Should be. Fuckin' better be, 'cause I'm not puttin' up with the AV rushin' around while I'm like this just so it can get to the place on time. Especially since I'll probably need a damn toilet break halfway through." With an AV the ride wouldn't be that bad, but that didn't mean he wanted it going around as fast as possible to make the trip a short one.

"Do you want something to eat while you wait, then?"

"...Do we still have some pandesal still in the freezer?"

"We do. Do you want some with cheese or jam?"

"Maybe… cheese today." Louise pressed a kiss to the apple of Kerry's cheek.

"You go take up a spot outside to wait while it's still cool out. I'll be out in a few minutes," she assured, earning herself a nod in response.

"Headin' out now to sit by the helipad, then. Meet ya out there." He could drag a chair over by it at the very least. The trek down the steps and out to the yard to get it wasn't a fun one, but it was cooler out. Maybe that would help with his sweating and keep him from looking like too much of a mess before the AV showed up.

He'd pause in his attempt to drag a chair over toward the helipad, feeling another contraction hitting him. Fuck, they were getting there. Only about 7 minutes between each of them by this point. If they were going any way like his last two had, he was hoping this labor would be his longest yet. He had to keep telling himself that, so he wouldn't freak himself out, and in turn freak Louise out.

He could do this. He could do this.

Settling down in his seat once he was pleased with the spot he chose, he looked across the greenery of the outside of his mansion. Beautiful as always. He was looking forward to this being a place where their kid could play. …Well, once they fixed up all the cliff points anyway. Or, hell, maybe they could just get somewhere else. A place that was better with kids than NC. It had done nothing but destroy his families beforehand, so maybe… yeah.

Moving after the baby got a little older sounded like a good idea. Maybe he could even kick this shit for good, too.

Kerry jumped when he felt a slight tap on his shoulder, immediately looking over with wide eyes to find Louise. Of course. It was always going to be Louise. Just a bit on edge with everything going on, or something…

"Sorry," she cooed softly, "I didn't mean to scare ya. I got a couple for you." She offered out a couple of paper towels folded into one, with two warm pandesal with cheese in the middle of them. Kerry took the paper towel and immediately took a bite out of one of them, nodding his head.

"Fa–" Kerry cut himself out with how his words came out, quickly chewing more and swallowing the bite back. "Thank you, Lulu. Pull up a seat. Sit with me while we wait."

"I'd love to, but I can't. I'm actually gonna go meet a friend for a little bit while you're busy. I'll be there if you need me. Just wanna take a little bit of me time before the baby comes."

"Oh, no, of course. Have fun, Lou." Thank God. Thank all the gods known to religion. If Louise had taken up the offer, there was no way he'd be able to hide his labor for long. Getting this done now instead of scheduling it around having a baby to feed felt like its own special kind of hell. "Gotcha on speed dial in case the kid decides it's time ta drop, and with us probably havin' ta to this all in Corpo Plaza, I'll be close ta the hospital. I'll be all good."

"You're sure?"

"Definitely sure. You've been so damn helpful, stayin' up with me as much as you can when I can't sleep… Have some fun before we're definitely in Mom and Dad land."

"Ok. Just please call me if it happens." Louise knelt down and kissed Kerry's lips with a gentleness, caressing his jaw. Letting their lips part, Kerry nodded his head once.

"I will. Don't worry. We'll be fine. Have fun with Trina."

"I didn't say it was Trina," Louise hummed, standing up again.

"You're not whining about who it is yet, so it's gotta be Trina. I'd be surprised if it wasn't Trina."

"...Ya got me. It's Trina," she giggled to herself, approaching her car and unlocking it.

"Tell Trina I said hi. Have fun."

"I will. I love you."

"Love you too."

He'd keep an eye out, watching the car leave the parking space and drive out from within the gated area they lived. Great. Now just to survive the next few hours of Sarge, the producers, and their bullshit.

"Your contractions appear to be considered close enough to be admitted into hospital. Would you like me to reroute toward Night City Medical Center?"

"Fuck off Delamain."

"Understood, sir. My apologies."

Kerry was relieved when Delamain shut their trap. Guess this was what he got for having a platinum membership with the damn taxi service. At least Delamain would know if things got to a point of no return, but they weren't saying that. What all could they check on for him? It was clear they could tell when he was having contractions, but apparently not much else. Well, they probably could if he probably plugged in his personal link. But, nope. None of that today. He didn't need Delamain knowing how much his cervix was dilating with a single scan. Just the thought of that sounded creepy as fuck.

"I've recalculated our estimated arrival time. We will now arrive at approximately 9:17 am."

If he didn't know any better, he would've thought this damn AI was picking a fight with him. Yes, he knows he took a while during their pit stop. So fucking sue him, he was just shy of being 42 weeks pregnant. He was gonna take a while to do anything, but especially undressing and redressing after going to the bathroom. Kerry just rolled his eyes and settled his back against his seat for the second time now.

"Got it. Let Sarge know I'll be arriving soon, then," Kerry sighed out in annoyance, somehow managing to keep his irritation mostly to himself. If anyone deserved to be the subject of his pregnancy fueled rage, it was Sarge. At least he'd react with a whole lot more than just an under concerned customer service voice.

"Of course. I'll see that a message is sent momentarily."

A few minutes later, Delamain would speak up again. Kerry struggled to pay attention, given he was in the throes of another contraction.

"Mr. Sarge has been notified of your impending arrival. Would you like me to make him aware of your current condition?"

"No. It doesn't matter right now. I'll take care of it later, so don't worry your pretty little head about it, Del."

"Whoa, you weren't kidding!" Sarge spoke with a friendly chuckle to his deep voice. "You most definitely look like you're about to pop, Kerry."

All eyes had been locked onto Kerry as he slowly waddled his way into the MSM building. He was early, but it looked like everyone had been just waiting around for him. Party can never start without him, he guessed…

He was quick to retract away from the hand that reached out toward his belly, holding it protectively. Kerry didn't mind people touching, but fuck he didn't need people feeling how hard his stomach was right now. Good this he was hardly wearing his shirt at all, else it would probably give away just how strong they were getting.

Sarge, apparently, didn't appear to mind too much. He just laughed again.

"Right, right! My apologies. I didn't like much when anyone touched my bump without asking either. Do remind me, though, what was this one going to be?" Kerry sighed with the question, shifting his weight from one foot to the next.

"We didn't find out. Decided on a surprise," he answered politely enough, "so Louise picked names for whatever they might be. Theodore for a boy, Kimberly for a girl."

"Oh-ho, how special! Awfully normal compared to your first twos' names."

"Louise chose 'em. Made 'er happy. I liked 'em, too, so here we are. Can– could we get settled down? I can't stand for very long with my back and legs being how they are," Kerry asked, a slight frantic refrain to his voice.

"Of course! Come, everyone's here, so we may as well start things out!"

Sarge led the six of them down the hall from the helipad entrance where they'd met Kerry. Sarge and the four producers, unsurprisingly, walked faster than him, leading to him straggling behind them. They couldn't pay him to try to speed walk with a head so deep into his pelvis. What a fucking bizarre feeling. He hadn't felt it in decades, and would probably never feel it again after this.

They were definitely gonna be cutting this close. But, if he could perform half a concert up until he was practically giving birth, then he was pretty fuckin' sure he could just sit there and discuss his future album and tour while doing nothing but sitting down. He could do this.

It would take him a few seconds more for Kerry to get to the meeting room than the others. None of them really seemed too concerned about what was going on, or how he was acting. He didn't know whether he was annoyed by it or relieved. Clearly some of them knew what the fuck he was going through, but either didn't notice or give enough of a shit to say something. But then, thank god they weren't saying anything, because he wanted to get this over with.

"Let's make this quick," Kerry sighed, taking a spot at one of the seats at the right side of the table. He liked taking the head of the table, but fuck he needed more room to spread his legs. …Probably not a great sign. His stomach was just so damn big and the baby's head was so low that he couldn't help it. No matter what he did as of late, if he was sitting then his legs were usually spread.

"Yes, let's!" With Kerry forgoing the head of the table, Sarge would instead take up the mantle. "The new album, first of all. It's been a couple of years since the last… do you think you've made any strides in developing the new one, Kerry?"

"It's still in the beginning stages," he offered out honestly. "Can't rush this shit, man. Especially with the shit that's been goin' on."

"Of course, of course."

"And ya know what happened last time you tried ta push me into forcin' out an album. If I get ratings on an album like that again, no one here is ever gonna hear the fuckin' end of it." One of the producers began to sit up in their seat. A typical suit, eyeing him like he was a slow computer that wasn't performing the way as advertised.

"When do ya think we could be seein' a new–"

These absolute fucknuts. Leaning back in his seat, Kerry scowled and grit his teeth as now another contraction was hitting him. Shit, these were getting close. But it was fine. He had more than enough time. Hell, his water hadn't even broken yet. They would be fine.

What were they even arguing about now? Kerry was starting to lose his head about it all, honestly. He'd been sweating again for a while. Excused away by pregnancy again, but surely someone must've known by now, right? He didn't think he was selling being "alright" very well, especially with his expression contorting every three or so minutes now.

"Can we take a break here? I really need ta head ta the restroom." Kerry spoke up finally after feeling that uncomfortable urge for a few minutes now.

"Ah, sure! Here, here; I'll help you up," one of the producers volunteered, reaching out one hand while the other was quick to hover around Kerry in case he ended up losing his balance. It was actually really helpful, thankfully, but left as nothing but a footnote because he needed to go.

The walk to the bathroom was horrible in its own right. Walking down a long hall and a whole set of office cubicles to boot. There were so many eyes on him, he was surprised he didn't see anyone snapping pics 'r something. On one hand, this was a record label. They always saw artists like him around. On the other, he was Kerry fucking Eurodyne. Heavily pregnant Kerry Eurodyne, at that. This wasn't something you saw every day, and Kerry knew that.

But no one bothered him, and he managed to make it to the bathroom.

Another contraction came while he was in the bathroom, and was almost relieved when his water finally broke. The pressure had been brutal, and now he didn't have to worry about it bursting in front of everyone.

…Fuck, though, he knew he had to say something now. None of his kids lasted long once his water had broken. He'd probably make it to the hospital, but Louise was gonna be so disappointed if she missed this.

Eurodyne SENT: 10:39 AM [my water broke] [call trauma team or an av plz]

sarge SENT: 10:39 AM [the meeting is almost done!] [is the baby coming now?]

Eurodyne SENT: 10:40 AM [no] [but they've never come long after this point] [i need to go]

sarge SENT: 10:40 AM [we'll be done in 30 mins top] [then i will call someone ok?]

Oh for fuck's sake.

He was still leaking fluid, and this asshole was gonna make him keep going. He couldn't fucking believe this. And yeah he could always call someone himself, but wouldn't that just be a pretty picture? Four damn producers having no idea where their client is because his stupid ass manager is insisting he's fine when Trauma Team is literally bowling through the entire building to get to him.

Fuck it. He'd do it, but Sarge was gonna be one jobless mother fucker by the end of it.

Cleaning himself up and getting dressed through two uncushioned contractions felt like its own personal hell. Ok. He could do this. If he kept saying it, it had to happen. He could do this. He could do this. What else did they even really need from him? What more could they possibly need from him? This absolutely just could've been done over a video chat in a few weeks, and he was absolutely pissed about it.

He was pissed about it as he left the bathroom, and he was definitely pissed about it as he had to make the slow trek back toward the meeting room. It wouldn't take long at all for another contraction to hit, though. Grabbing onto a cubicle wall as it hit, he squeezed onto it as tightly as he could manage. The owner of the tiny area stood in alarm, where they were quickly face to face with Kerry Eurodyne.

"Mr. Eurodyne! Are… are you alright?" They asked. A smart ass remark sat at Kerry's lips, but couldn't get it out as he felt the overwhelming need to squat and bear down. With his body leaned over and his belly hanging low, he felt like he could hardly move an inch.

"S… Sarge– meetin' room…" Kerry grunted out, forcing himself to peel his fingers away from the cubicle wall and point down the hall. "Can't… move!" Yep, he was pushing. He wasn't even sure if he should be right now, but it felt like he had to.

More of the suits working within that area began to flock toward them, either watching from afar or approaching to get a better look at what was even going on.

"Mr. Eurodyne? Do you–"

"What can we do for you–"

"Tell us–"

A lot of voices started talking to him at once, and he just couldn't stand it. This was the worst possible situation. Holy shit.

"Trauma! Team!" Kerry would yell through his grit teeth. Oh, fuck, he needed to get a hold of Louise. She needed to know what was going on, but he couldn't bear to move right now.

"SARGE!" Without much choice in the matter, he finally raised his voice. If this fucker didn't hear him at all? Oh, he was going to end this guy. He was already gonna fucking end him at this rate.

Looking toward the right of him to see if there was any sign of his manager or producers coming out of the room, Kerry instead got a look at one of these lackey suits staring at him with glowing eyes. This gonk was recording him. He couldn't fucking believe this. How could this moment, this day, get any worse?!

It was the longest minute of his life, but the contraction passed. There wouldn't be long before another came, so he needed to do something fast. As much as he wanted this suit with the camera to fuck off, he knew it had to either be him or Sarge to call Louise. At the very least, he could try. Feeling around for his phone in his pocket, though, he would quickly find that it wasn't there.

He hadn't taken it out of his pocket, so then where could it be? The AV?

Well, shit.

It somehow got worse.

"Trauma Team's on their way!" A disembodied voice spoke up. Finally, someone was doing something!

"SARGE!" He screamed a second time, and finally he noticed the horde of people encroaching on his space even more. There were so many people around him, chattering about and panicking that he could hardly hear himself think, much less process everything that was going on. He felt Sarge's hand press against his shoulder.

"I'm here, I'm here…" That deep voice was trying its hardest to sound soothing, as though he wasn't the son of a bitch that tried to get him to walk all the way back down to the meeting room again. But, he was the only person he knew right now. So, Kerry had no choice but to rely on him.

"Call–" Kerry grunted, feeling that pressure of his baby's head even without the contraction. "–Louise!"

"Call Louise. Ok! I can do that. What am I telling her?" He was gonna kill him. Someone better hold him back after he was done having this baby, because he was going to kill him.

"Baby's coming. Goin' ta… ta the hospital…"

"Ok! Haha, how exciting!" Pulling his phone out, Sarge would step away from the crowd, leaving his client pretty much alone through this.

Looking around at the crowd he'd amassed, he looked toward the producers still awkwardly standing around him.

"Get– get… get 'em…" The pain was coming back. He needed to push. "Baby's comin'. Get these fuckin' suits away from me!"

"Hey, back off!" One of the producers attempted. They were nowhere near in as much control as they were before. Nothing but pathetic, ordinary suits now too.

Holding onto his stomach with one hand and the cubicle wall in the other, he would carefully begin to lower himself down to the floor. His legs were exhausted. All of him was, honestly. Maybe he could prolong this baby from coming if he just sat down. Maybe they'd at least wait until Trauma Team would get here. It couldn't take too long, right? Just breathe, Kerry. Breathe. Don't push. Breathe.

That was easy for a fuckin' labor coach to say! How the fuck was he supposed to just breathe to get rid of this damn urge? Kerry instead pressed a hand against his clothed groin. It was gross and damp from the still leaking amniotic fluid seeping through his underwear and pants, but he couldn't feel anything yet. Maybe just holding that there would help… Maybe he could just push a little and… hold her there? It was probably a fucked up thing to do. It wouldn't be for long, though, right?

Trauma Team would be here soon.

Unlike everyone else around him, they'd help him soon.

It was that thought that led him to allowing himself to bear down and push. Bringing his knees up about as much as they could without his arms helping them any, he spread his legs and bore down to push. Not with all of his might, but enough to satisfy that urge, that need.

"Louise said she'll be on her way to the hospital, Kerry. No need ta worry about it!" Kerry could hear Sarge say, but he couldn't have cared less in that moment. Not when he could feel his baby starting to come down.

C'mon, kid. Hold out a little while longer. Your mom wants to meet you first.

The pain subsided again, and it all came flooding back. The eyes, the people. A whole mass of people that didn't give a shit about him and that he, in turn, didn't give a single damn about. He was alone in this. Totally, abhorrently alone. With people recording, to just marveling at what the fuck was even going on right now. Crowding him. No one was helping him. Even his fucking manager had no will to just sit down beside him and comfort him some. Then again, part of this was his fucking fault in the first place.

Part? Oh, no. Most of this was his fault!

Pushing again, he was surprised by how much work that push was already doing, getting them down to start spreading him wide. Shit, if he wasn't careful, he might just end up having them right in his damn pants again. Keeping his hand there, he wouldn't keep much pressure on the spot. So when he'd push again, he'd feel the head pushing outwards against his hand. It was the most bizarre feeling he'd ever felt, though it would quickly be overtaken by the sharp burn of the stretch.

Letting go of the effort, though, the baby's head would recede back into him.

Was everyone seriously still just doing nothing? Nothing but watching him do this? Grunting out in irritation, he rubbed his stomach like it would actually do anything to help.

"C'mon, kid… Work with me here," Kerry strained. "Your mom's gonna be upset is she– ooh… misses this… Ohhh, fuck this!" He wanted to have the will, the ability to refrain himself from pushing, but he just didn't. Everything in his body was telling him to get this baby out, while his mind even knew that trying to keep the baby inside wasn't going to do him or the baby any good.

Removing his hand, he'd instead just push with the contractions that kept coming while they waited.

More noise began to erupt from down the hall, where the helipad entrance had let him into the building just under two hours ago. That had to be them, right?

”BACK AWAY FROM THE PATIENT!"

Definitely them. Thank god, 'cause he was pretty sure he was crowning. He was a little too afraid to touch down there to actually find out at this point, to know just how far he'd gone with all of this.

The crowd was finally dispersing, and as he looked up, he'd see a group of four different medics with guns pointed at everyone but him. One placed a stretcher on the ground beside him.

"Get on the stretcher." One of them instructed.

"Can't. Mm… Head's– head's almost– ah, shit, here it comes!" The force was impossible to ignore. Before any of the medics could do anything about it, the lump that was already in Kerry's pants grew. More fluid seeped through his clothes, pooling on the floor below him. Some gagged, others gasped. One of the medics cursed.

Two of them returned their guns to their holsters and were quick to approach Kerry's side. Both of them took care in helping Kerry onto the stretcher. The baby had little room at this point. If they were gonna come out any further, they'd basically have to divert straight down into his pant leg. And as much as he knew he was never gonna wear these pants again, he didn't really want that sensation in his memory.

"Going up," one of the medics warned, and suddenly he was in the air. It was an uncomfortable sensation, sitting up on a stretcher with a baby's head between his legs. Kerry had confidence in Trauma Team, though. They were fuckers in their own right sometimes, but far less than suits. They just needed to get him to the AV before they could help him deliver the rest of the baby.

He caressed his baby's head through his pants, murmuring words of assurance under his breath.

The other two medics followed, walking backwards to ensure their guns still stayed toward the crowd that'd once surrounded him. Once outside, though, their pistols would go back in their holsters and they'd quicken the pace toward the AV.

"How far along are you?" One asked as the door to the AV closed behind them. Another medic was removing their uniform gloves and putting on sterile ones, while the two holding onto his stretcher secured it so it wouldn't be rocking about as the AV took off and began to fly away.

"A… a couple days– shit…"

"Don't push, Mr. Eurodyne. Please answer the question."

"A-Almost… almost 42 weeks."

"Safe to deliver, then. We're going to remove your pants, Mr. Eurodyne. Do you co–"

"Yes! Just get them off! Kid wants out!" He wanted to yell at one of them. He wanted someone to try to call Louise, but he wasn't sure that was possible at this point. Transferring the contact info took way too much mental concentration to do while his body was in so much pain.

"To make this quick, we're going to cut them off."

"Good! Fuckin' good riddance," Kerry groaned, struggling in his attempts not to push. "Just fucking do it!"

The gloved medic was quick to cut up through his pant leg until they got to the top. Then came opening up the crotch area completely, and then cutting the underwear off. Finally, the baby didn't have any pressure against their head. Looking to the gloved medic, Kerry looked for some semblance of approval.

"Can I push? Fuckin' hell, I need to push…"

"No cord around the baby's neck. Lie down and push."

"You couldn't pay me ta lie down right now. Someone get the fuck behind me and brace me! Now!"

"You need to lie down and–"

"I am Kerry fucking Eurodyne! Either help me get this kid out 'r I'm doin' it myself, and you fuckers are gonna–" Asserting authority like that wasn't really his schtick, in truth. …Well, not all the time. He was pretty damn sure it was warranted here, though! If he had to give birth here and not with his wife, then he was doing this his way. "Brace! Me!"

One of the medics reluctantly sat behind Kerry, keeping a hand up and against the wall to brace himself against it.

"Ok Mr. Eurodyne, calm down and push." The last two medics in the back would be there to help him pull up and spread his legs. With that sufficient amount of room and with the support behind him, it wasn't difficult for Kerry to push down with all of his might to try to get this baby out. His hands gripped tightly to the side of the stretcher, to keep himself from accidentally scooting himself off of his spot.

He wouldn't be able to see anything as it happened. Between the efforts and his large stomach, it just wasn't happening. So all he could do was feel the sharp stings as his baby's body finally made its way out of him. One shoulder, then the other. And with one last push and about ten minutes left until they made it to the hospital, Theodore Nordin-Eurodyne was born.

Hearing the baby's sharp cry, Kerry's eyes opened and watched as the gloved medic picked his son up. Gunk and fluid was promptly suctioned out of his mouth, making his cry clearer. Already he could see, his boy had such dark hair. No surprise there, but it just felt so good to see. His boy. His first boy.

"Give him to me," Kerry begged softly.

"Just a moment," the medic spoke softly. A shiny material was being wrapped around the newborn. A means to keep him warm until they made it to the hospital. Kerry was pretty sure he'd seen something like that on TV at some point in his life. So, he allowed it.

Finally, once he was covered, Kerry was given his third child.

Louise was going to be heartbroken, and he already felt so sorry. But god, he was perfect. Poor kid was gonna be all over the screamsheets with him if that asshole posted that vid. He'd take care of it. Kerry would do anything and everything in his power to take care of his little boy.

#tmpreg #mpreg #birth kink #mayternity #emmi writes

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