#INCLUDING THOMA!! he's really fun to play we just ignore that he hits like a wet noodle

[atlanticcanada]

'The biggest rivalry': Bedard, Canada set for world junior semifinal against U.S.

Brandt Clarke was a month short of his sixth birthday.

The moment, however, remains etched in his memory.

John Tavares scored a dramatic hat trick for Canada against the United States in a wild 7-4 victory on New Year's Eve at the 2009 world junior hockey championship in Ottawa.

Clarke and his family were in the building -- hanging off every shot, save and hit from the stands.

"The electricity in the building," he said of what still resonates some 14 years later. "The red jerseys all the way to the top ... 20,000 people, winning the game against the Americans.

"It's unmatchable."

With another mouth-watering instalment of the bitter rivalry set for Wednesday thanks to Connor Bedard's overtime heroics for Canada in the quarterfinals, Clarke is confident his teammate and the country's best player -- just like Tavares that frigid night in the nation's capital -- will rise to the occasion.

"I don't expect him to take any steps back," the Los Angeles Kings defenceman said following Tuesday's brief practice. "All I've seen so far is him take steps forward. Even when it's hard to imagine him still being able to take steps forward, he's done it.

"I don't think that'll change."

Bedard has not only changed a couple lines in record books at the men's under-20 tournament.

He's torn it to shreds.

The presumptive first pick at the 2023 NHL draft set five national or tournament marks early in Monday's triumph against Slovakia before a breathtaking solo effort in OT nearly blew the roof off a frothing Scotiabank Centre.

Bedard has registered the most goals (16) and points (34) all-time by a Canadian at the tournament. He's also set the national record for points (21) and assists (13) at a single event, and has the most points ever by a player under age 18 from any country.

But for all the accolades, the 17-year-old North Vancouver, B.C., native has made a habit of quickly turning the page.

His headline-grabbing performance in the quarterfinals was no different.

"That's really incredible for him to be able shut out or ignore all the media and how much attention he's getting," Canadian goaltender Thomas Milic said. "He's a team-first guy. A quote I like is, 'A rising tide lifts all boats.' Us having team success is contributing to him and everyone else."

"He doesn't sit there and dwell on the biggest goal of the tournament," Canadian head coach Dennis Williams added of Bedard, who didn't speak to reporters Tuesday. "You wouldn't have known that after the game -- his focus was already on to the next challenge."

That comes Wednesday in the latest clash of the sport's North American powers.

"Every kid's dream," said U.S. forward and Winnipeg Jets prospect Rutger McGroarty. "Playing in a barn like this against your rival, it'll be a fun one.

"It just gets us juiced up to see that atmosphere, see how crazy it's going to be."

Whether it's the Olympics, world juniors, world championships or any other level, extra motivation isn't necessary when the countries hit the ice.

"Don't think we need to go in as coaches and get the room going," Williams said. "If anything, we've got to calm them down."

Tavares, Sidney Crosby, Joe Sakic, Haley Wickenheiser, Marie-Philip Poulin and many others have risen to the occasion in similar moments.

This Canadian iteration is hoping for the same.

"All of us dreamed of this as kids," said winger Brennan Othmann. "This is the game, this is the moment."

"The biggest rivalry," added forward and Ottawa Senators prospect Zach Ostapchuk. "And for us, personally, it's, big. It'll be really exciting."

For all the points Bedard has put up, the Americans are also dangerous, especially the top line of Logan Cooley, Jimmy Snuggerud and Cutter Gauthier, who sit second, third and fifth in tournament scoring.

"Skilled guys," said Canadian centre Logan Stankoven, who plays alongside Bedard and is No. 4 in the points race. "They strike fast and quick."

Taking the body will be a big part of Canada's mindset against the Americans, including trying to make life difficult for their undersized defence corps.

"They don't like the physical play," Clarke said.

For all the drama Monday, one area where the Canadians will look to improve is faceoffs after a success rate of just 45 per cent.

"We're chasing the game too much there," Williams said. "We were going to position before possession."

Canada lost to the U.S. in the final of the 2021 tournament in the COVID-19 bubble in Edmonton in the countries' last meeting at the world juniors.

"Super special," Milic said. "These are games I loved watching growing up. We're pretty fortunate to be able to be in this position to play in one and really have a big battle for our country."

Canada got to this point thanks to another spectacular performance from Bedard, who dropped to one knee for his own version of the "heartbreaker" celebration made famous by U.S. great Patrick Kane after scoring the winner against the Slovaks.

"That was pretty cool," Clarke said. "Especially in a big setting like that. The whole building's going crazy, the whole building's chanting 'M-V-P' for him.

"That's what he's been doing all tournament -- just breaking hearts."

Bedard and Canada will look to do the same against the Americans.

This report by The Canadian Press was first published Jan. 3, 2023.

from CTV News - Atlantic https://ift.tt/uDa4pFx

[c6jpg]

GENSHIN IMPACT - zero’s character roster

[f00pyf00p]

Four-Year Anniversary

Fandom: Sanders Sides  Characters: Logan, Virgil, Roman, Mentions of Patton Rating: General Relationships: Romantic Analogical Warnings: None that I’m aware of Word count: 3017 Summary: Roman is determined to make Logan and Virgil will enjoy their anniversary, even if they don't seem to be particularly interested in it themselves. Other Notes: Analogical Week Day 1: Debate/Anniversary @analogicalweek 

Read on AO3!

Virgil was the first one out of the two to awaken. It was an odd but welcome occurrence, and one he celebrated by shifting over and cuddling into his partner, wrapping one arm over Logan’s waist, and kissing the side of his neck.

There was a soft mumble from the other person. Virgil kissed him again.

“I don’t wake you up when I happen to awaken first,” Logan grumbled. “Besides, I require abnormal amounts of strength today.”

Virgil frowned. “Why?”

“Roman.”

Right.

Today was their anniversary. It was their four-year anniversary (that thought alone had Virgil pulling Logan a little closer) and while to them, that meant… not a lot, to Roman it meant much more than it should, especially considering he wasn’t even in the relationship.

“20 bucks says he’s made the kitchen look like a really fancy restaurant.”

Logan's only response was a quiet groan.

“What things do you think we’ll see the moment we open the bedroom door?” Virgil nudged him. “I’ve got rose petals, a basket of chocolates, and a radio playing the sound of Roman singing love songs.”

“Teddy bears,” Logan yawned. He curled closer into the blankets and Virgil suddenly wished to grab his adorable boyfriend and squish him. He settled to push himself up for a kiss on the cheek. “On Valentine’s Day when Thomas went to CVS Roman kept looking from the giant stuffed bears to us. He probably summoned some.”

“He summoned some yesterday during the “First Time Thomas had Mac n’ Cheese” anniversary. Do you really think he’ll do it again?”

“He used those frilly streamers for a full week for “The First TV” anniversary, “The Steven Universe” anniversary, “The First Time Liking Broccoli” anniversary, and “The First Time Hearing the Evan Hansen Musical” anniversary.”

Virgil’s head flopped onto Logan’s shoulder. “Maybe we will have teddy bears then.”

“I’ll burn whatever stupid bear he gets me.”

“What if it's a unicorn bear?”

Logan’s cheeks tinted a very light pink and he opened both eyes to glare at the man hanging above him. Virgil gave a cheeky grin and Logan rolled his eyes before re-closing them and settling back into the pillows.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Virgil nudged playfully.

“Shut up.”

Virgil flopped back down and pressed his face into the back of Logan’s neck. He had barely been there for a second before he was peppering kisses down the back of it, triggering a loud sigh and then a rolling from Logan’s so they were nearly nose to nose.

“You have a lot of energy today,” Logan remarked.

Virgil reached up and kissed his nose.

“We could say in bed forever,” Virgil told him. “Then we get to avoid Roman.”

“That would hurt Roman’s feelings.” Logan’s expression turned more sheepish. “I’m trying not to do that anymore.”

Virgil’s heart bloomed with love for this man in front of him, who could accept the fact that he had made mistakes and who worked so hard to improve them.

“Still,” Virgil pressed. “We can stall.”

Logan shrugged and Virgil took that as permission to lean forward and fully capture his boyfriend’s lips within his own.

__

Roman was positive he had forgotten something. Something important. Something they needed.

He ran down his checklist.

A path of red and white roses petals, leading from Logan’s bedroom (which had pretty much become Logan and Virgil’s bedroom at this point) to the kitchen.

Baskets, filled with chocolates, fruits, flowers, and a coffee maker. Two large teddy bears, one white, one grey.

Then in the kitchen…

Waffles, cooked to perfection by Patton. Hot syrup, berries, whipped cream, and then there was the fact that the entire kitchen had been shifted to look like one of those fancy diners.

He had created an entire ballroom, filled it to the brim with random facets of Thomas’s personality, added music and snacks, and then closed it off for later.

His room was open to go outside and eat at the picnic he had set up, on a blanket completely covered in hearts.

What had he missed?

Crap! There were supposed to be chocolates at the picnic! Roman hurriedly snapped his fingers and felt himself relax.

Wait.

Music.

With another snap of his fingers, radios appeared at every single one of the spots he had set up for Logan and Virgil, all filled with the sound of his voice singing a variety of love songs.

Now, everything was perfect, as it should be for Logan and Virgil’s fourth anniversary.

The bedroom door opened. Roman could tell because the sound of him singing “You Matter to Me” from Waitress slowly started up, followed by Roman’s loud singing.

I could find the whole meaning of life in those sad eyes

They've seen things you never quite say, but I hear…

Logan came into the kitchen first. He blinked at the fancy diner and offered Roman what was probably a smile- Roman wasn’t quite sure, but admittedly, it wasn’t like the logical side smiled much anyway. As Logan gingerly took a seat, Virgil appeared behind him. His hands flinched slightly at the sight but he did smile at Roman before moving for the coffee machine.

“No!”

Virgil blinked. Had Roman turned to look at Logan, he would’ve noticed the side putting his head in his hands, but his gaze was fixated solely on Virgil and the mugs he was reaching for.

“I’ll do that!” Roman stepped forward and shoved Virgil towards the table. “It’s your day!”

“I um…” Virgil licked his lips. “I don’t want-”

“We appreciate it, Roman,” Logan interrupted. He fixed Virgil with a look. “Just breakfast, right?”

Roman nodded eagerly.

Virgil pursed his lips before moving back over to the table Logan was already seated at and taking the spot across from him. The two of them leaned forward, probably to tell each other how pleased they were with Roman’s efforts, while Roman reached for the coffee.

He had been setting up things like this for the past four years, every time their anniversary hit, and he had never seemed to get it quite right. Somewhere along the line, one or the other always disappeared and everything fell to shambles pretty quickly.

It didn’t matter. Roman would make today so enjoyable, they would wish everyday was Anniversary Day.

He placed two coffee mugs in front of them. “What would you like to eat?” He asked.

Logan and Virgil looked at each other, then over to the obvious stack of waffles sitting on the counter.

“Toast,” Virgil deadpanned.

Logan hid his smile with a single hand. He nodded vaguely in the waffles direction and Roman skipped over to the platter and then placed it in the middle of the lovebird’s table.

“Thank you, Roman.” Logan met his eyes and gave a quiet nod before reaching to grab a waffle with his fork.

They ate in relative silence, now and then raising an eyebrow or flickering their eyes in a direction to communicate some sort of message Roman didn’t understand. He waited patiently for the two of them to finish eating before snapping his fingers and clearing the table in an instant.

“Right! Now, I have an outdoorsy activity plan for you including Swan Boats-”

“I can’t!” Virgil interrupted.

Roman paused. “Why not?”

“I’m… allergic to water?”

There was a beat of silence. Logan stared open-mouthed at Virgil but Roman nodded knowingly.

“Okay, then we can skip the Swan Boats and go right to the theater.”

Logan winced at that.

“Don’t worry,” Roman said quickly. “It’s gay.”

“Look, Roman, I’m sure your play is very good… who’s in it?”

“Me!”

Virgil closed his eyes and Logan licked his lips.

“Right. I’m sure it’s… adequate. But I’m not very fond of theater-”

“You’ll like this one,” Roman said. “Come on! I promise it’ll be fun!”

Virgil and Logan shared another one of their looks. Their hands laced together and both of them nodded over at Roman, who was all too happy to lead them out of the kitchen and towards his room.

When Roman glanced behind him, he found Virgil raising his eyebrows at Logan, an expression that Logan seemed to be purposely ignoring. Roman wasn’t quite sure what to make of it but he chose to leave his strange nerds to whatever they were up to and concentrate on the performance he was about to give. It would be a bit difficult to give, as for some reason, none of the other sides that preferred acting had liked the idea of acting for Logan and Virgil.

“Logan hates theater,” Courage had said, “and Virgil is scared of being the only audience member clapping. Besides, you know they don’t do anything for anniversaries anyway.”

Roman did know that, which is why he had set up this show for them. In his opinion, it was important to celebrate the big moments. Especially four years of being together.

His performance began with a song about feeling lost and alone. The moment the song began, Logan began shifting in his seat and Virgil muttered something in his ear.

During intermission, Logan went up to Roman and gave him what could’ve either been a smile or a grimace.

“I have work,” he said simply. “Virgil says he’ll watch the rest of your performance and tell me about it, because I don’t want your efforts to go unwatched, but I do really need to go.”

Roman stared at him. “It’s your anniversary! You should be relaxing!”

Logan just shrugged. “I don’t see an anniversary as an achievement.”

Before Roman could even begin to unpack all that, Logan gave him a tiny wave and left Virgil to watch the rest of Roman’s performance alone.

__

Okay, so the theater and the swan boats were a bust. That was fine. Roman had plenty of other things planned for today.

Except, then Virgil wanted to go work, so only he and Logan went to Patton’s cooking class.

And then Logan saw a book he hadn’t read in the library, so Virgil did the escape room by himself (he did manage to complete it though.)

And then both Logan and Virgil were busy, so the picnic was completely ruined.

By 3 o’clock, Roman had all but given up trying to get Logan and Virgil to do fun things and was sitting by the kitchen table, head firmly planted on the tabletop, and letting out quiet moans as if he were a fish that had just been gutted.

There was a creak from the chair beside him. Roman turned his head to the side and blinked rapidly at Logan. The side’s expression was unreadable, but Roman sat up and glared fully at his stupid friend.

“Why don’t you just enjoy the stuff I make you!?” Roman threw his hands up in the air. “You’ve been together for four years! You should celebrate that!”

Logan sighed quietly. “Would it make you feel better if Virgil and I did one of your… date ideas?”

“No!” Roman crossed his arms over his chest. “It would make me feel better if you wanted to celebrate.”

“So we can’t make you feel better then?”

It took Roman a second to figure out what he was insinuating. That the only reason he would do anything Roman planned was for him and not their relationship. “Why don’t you want to celebrate!?” he practically shouted.

Virgil appeared in the doorway. Roman’s eyes flickered between the two of them but it was Logan who answered his question.

“Virgil doesn’t like the over-attention, and I don’t see an anniversary as an achievement.” His voice was casual as if they were discussing how the sky was blue or that water made things wet. “The true achievements in a relationship are when you compromise, help the other through obstacles, show your interest in their interests. It’s not an arbitrary date.”

Roman stared rather blankly at him.

“The achievement,” Logan continued, “is just being in the relationship. It doesn’t matter to me how long I’m with Virgil, so long as I am.”

“You fucking-” Virgil spoke from the doorway, voice a bit more muffled than usual.

Logan glanced behind him, eyebrows knit together, and barely had time to ask “what?” before Virgil had hauled him out of his chair, waved at Roman, and pulled Logan out of the kitchen.

Roman snapped his fingers, and all of the plans he had made for the day- the party, the trivia game, the Disney movie marathon- vanished into thin air.

__

Logan walked into his room later that night and was not at all surprised to find Virgil laying across his bed, computer open to Disney+, and Virgil browsing through it in an attempt to find a movie they could watch together. It was a common sight- although normally, Virgil wore his hoodie instead of the skeleton onesie on at the moment. And normally, there wasn’t a unicorn onesie spread out off to the side of him in a very obvious message as to what Logan was to wear.

He scooped the onesie up.

“Dinner?” Virgil glanced over at him. He smiled widely at the sight of conjured Chinese food and then rolled his eyes. “Utter sap.”

Logan was still trying not to melt from the mere look on Virgil’s face and wasn’t able to find his tongue before Virgil had sat up and given him a soft kiss.

“We’re not eating on the bed,” Logan managed when they broke apart.

“Then you better set up the beanbags.” Virgil stuck his tongue out and then instantly went back to browsing. “Are you against musical Disney movies?”

“I suppose not.” Logan grimaced at the thought of the show Roman had put on. “However, I’d prefer it to not be a romance.”

Virgil’s gaze laughed back at him, as if he too was remembering the oddity of watching Roman play all parts of a romance play- although Logan had managed to escape before watching Roman passionately make out with… nobody.

And while he was sorry he had left Virgil alone for that, he was also incredibly happy he missed it.

Logan set the Chinese food down on his desk and headed over towards the hamper set off to the side of his room. It took him less than a minute to strip from his earlier dress clothes, slip into the onesie Virgil clearly wanted him in, and tie a blue tie around the front of it.

“Moana doesn’t have any romance in it,” Virgil said aloud. Before Logan could respond he muttered, “I’m in the mood for a classic though.”

Logan left him to it (Virgil would figure out what he wanted eventually) and made his way over to the ridiculously large bean bag usually set up in the corner of the room. Virgil had insisted they get it practically the moment he moved in, and Logan had to admit, the thing was quite useful.

At the moment though, it was completely covered in graphic novels Virgil read while listening to his loud emo music.

Logan sorted them onto the shelf as quickly as he could, ignoring the little “hmms” and “I hate that movies” coming from his bed. Once the beanbag was completely cleared off, Logan snatched their favorite blanket- a weighted galaxy one and sent it fluttering over the top.

“Have you picked a movie yet, Virge?”

“No.” Virgil sighed. “Yes. Maybe. I don’t know.”

“I think you’ve given me every possible meaning to that question.”

“Fuck you.”

Logan smiled softly at the familiar nonthreatening words. He tapped the back of Virgil’s legs as he walked back over to grab the Chinese food, as a quiet friendly reminder that everything was ready for him.

“Mulan,” Virgil said aloud. He twisted to meet Logan’s eyes. “Mulan? Not the hideous new one, obviously. The old one.”

“Satisfactory.”

Virgil's answering smile is bright and not for the first time in their relationship- or really not for the first time that day, Logan is reminded exactly why he fell in love with him. He said nothing as Virgil jumped up and settled into the beanbag, holding one arm out for Logan to curl into before dropping the weighting blanket over both of them.

Virgil balanced the computer on his knees and Logan used the tension of the blanket as a sort of table Chinese food. He curled into Virgil’s side, letting out a quiet breath.

“I can’t believe Mr. I-Don't-Care-About-Anniversaries got my favorite takeout for our anniversary,” Virgil teased lightly.

Logan ignored the heat rushing into his cheeks. “You still enjoy them, even if you don’t like grand gestures. I’m not above pushing aside my opinion to make you happy.”

“You are annoyingly sweet, Logan.”

Logan smiled and leaned up to kiss his boyfriend’s cheek. Virgil’s answer was to shove fried rice into his face and click the start of the movie.

“Did you know,” Logan said over the music of the opening credits, “that the true story of Mulan is a lot more feminist than what Disney was going for here?”

“Yeah?” Virgil supplied.

“Yeah. In the real folktale, Mulan’s family knew she was leaving and supported her. Plus, when the army found out she was a woman, they didn’t care and just let her stay because she was that strong of a soldier.”

Logan glanced over at Virgil and found that he was facing him, barely even an inch away. Their breath mingled and Logan's eyes darted down to his boyfriend’s lips.

“I expect you to rip this movie apart with me,” Virgil whispered.

“Obviously.”

He wasn’t sure who leaned forward first, but by the time Shan Yu had come on screen, Virgil’s lips were soft against his.

He did know that Virgil was the first to pull back and shovel another chopstick full of fried rice into his mouth.

“This guy sucks,” Virgil said, jabbing a single finger at Shan Yu. “I hope that when he goes to charge his phone, it only works at a certain angle.”

“He’s the villain- I- wait. Virgil, they don’t have phones-”

Virgil stuck a dumpling into his open mouth.

[bella-in-a-bag]

Not mine

Ao3 

Masterpost

 - Next

Words: 2446  

Day 5 - Any intense emotions your soulmate feels you will also experience 

Maybe that was worse, because he was just broken and no one was to blame, just himself. Maybe he had repressed his feelings to the limit and they were retaliating, unlike, but he wasn't human after all. Maybe he deserves this and there is no reason, it just is and he has to accept that. 

Where Logan gets someone elses feelings.

Tags and triggers under cut

Hurt/Comfort, Unsympathetic Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, more or less, he's just mean and never actually in the story, just mentioned, it's implied that he's just stressed, mention of violence, Swearing, Remus doesn't get gross, , tw panic attacks implied

Logan didn't know how his chest had suddenly gotten so tight, his eyes watery and his gut twisted in a way that made him want to throw up. Feeling such an intense array of emotions left him unable to think, let alone reason his way out of something he didn't know the cause for. Just a minute ago, he was fixing Thomas's schedule to include his meeting with Joan, an action that he deemed deeply satisfactory, when a wave crashed into his train of thought. Anger for something he didn't know the motive but knew was wrong, as well as many other things he could only identify as a mixture of pride, guilt, grief and sadness.

Well, no use in trying to get something done now.

Logan was used to these impulses, as he liked to call them, but every time he suffered them he felt like the world was figuratively trying to crush him into a pile of dust, so maybe the appropriate term should be awareness of the situation. He didn't freak out when they happened, which was good, but the unpleasantness still stuck all the way through the episodes. Surprising no one, he hated them more than he hated Thomas pursuing theater and YouTube instead of a stable career, but unlike the latter, these problems only affected him. Maybe that was worse, because he was just broken and no one was to blame, just himself. Maybe he had repressed his feelings to the limit and they were retaliating, unlike, but he wasn't human after all. Maybe he deserves this and there is no reason, it just is and he has to accept that.

Logan realized that if Janus heard that he was going to get lectured, but he didn't really mind, not when his brain was spiraling back and forth between a decision he wasn't sure he was making himself. The pros and cons, the possible outcomes, the whole problem laid out to him in a way he could only watch someone from afar look at a map he couldn't see. It reminded him of the courtroom scenario, but at the same time the problem felt more trivial and more important. The stakes were high, he guessed while trying to assume the best decision based on the pieces he could get, but then a choice was made and anxiety filled his mind to the brim.

He almost didn't answer when he heard a knock on the door, too many things happening at once, but he pushed himself up his chair and answered with the loudest voice he could manage. "Who is it?" It still sounded too emotionally charged, or maybe it didn't and his ears were playing tricks on him. "Can I come in?" Still no answer to his question, but if he ignored them maybe they would go away. The three seconds he stood in the middle of his room waiting for an answer felt like an eternity, but to his dismay, that someone finally decided to reveal their identity.

"I'm Remus, Logan" he sounded far too broken for the Duke, and Logan deduced that wasn't good. "Can I come in?" The desperation in the voice pushed Logan to open the door and let him in, trying to look collected.

"How may I assist you?" He wanted to add that he couldn't even assist himself, but the thought remained in his head.

"I need you to coach me through Virgil's breathing exercises" it still felt wrong the way his voice broke when he said Virgil and why would he need them in the first place? Remus was becoming a decent distraction from his own problems, he realized as he tried to make sense of the situation. Logan gestured at the foot of his bed before beginning to speak.

"Ok, I want you to breathe in for four, hold for seven and exhale for eight" Remus simply nodded and Logan began the exercise, counting with his fingers when he saw the creative side struggling to follow his instructions. After 15 minutes and 23 seconds, Remus seemed to look more like himself and Logan stopped counting, finding comfort in the way his mind had started to function as well. Remus was looking at the ground while biting his nail and it didn't look like he was going to speak any time soon, but Logan needed to know what happened in order to help Remus. He might be also teeny tiny bit interested, but that is besides the point.

"If you are not comfortable you do not have to answer" Remus's finger was out of his mouth, good. "But may I ask what is bothering you, you seemed troubled. And by previous experiences, I assume you do not get easily troubled." Remus snorted, Logan wasn't sure why but that is a problem for another day.

"I might have fought with good ol' Virgin again, which might not have ended so good ol' ok" That usually didn't end up well, Logan remembered trying to comfort Virgil with Patton making cookies and Roman swearing revenge on the background.

"If you were in his room that would explain your distress"

"We were on common territory, so my bullshit comes exclusively from me."

"I wouldn't consider your stress fake, but did anything he said upset you into this state or was it the whole situation in general."

"Well, there were some things said." He paused for a moment, looking down weighting if it was worth it or not. Logan was beginning to think he would just get up and leave when he resumed talking, startling him just enough to make him flinch but improbable that the other side had noticed.

"I had this extremely good idea, you see. It was good, so good I was going to show it to Thomas. Not an intrusive thought, you don't need to worry legged dictionary, but an actual real plot for an episode." Logan nodded along, listening carefully to the side's words. "I made the mistake of telling Virgil, cause he was the only one around and I needed to tell somebody. He's still pissed that jay-nus got sort of accepted, hypocrite coming from him," Logan bit the urge to correct him, shifting a bit on the spot." so he didn't take well the idea of me making something useful. Or he was afraid that I wasn't going to make anything and kill Thomathy on the spot, but hey, same difference. He also called me something a bit ugly." Remus's voice shifted into Virgil's like second nature, which would make sense given Janus's history. "Yeah, well maybe you are better off trapped in the subconscious, no one wants you around anyway. I'm sure your brother won't miss you."

This time Remus didn't continue speaking and Logan understood that he wasn't getting more info right now.

"I am sorry Remus, Virgil has been a little over the edge lately with Janus up in the primary mindscape." Bad wording Logic, now he looks more sad. "I am in no way trying to excuse his actions, perhaps I could talk to him later. Make him see the error in his thinking, possibly getting him to apologize."

"Thanks Logan." Satisfactory, he isn't even using a nickname.

"If I’m not intruding too much, why didn't you go to Janus for help?"

"Intruding is my thing logical meat bag" That one's creative "but he's busy and you seemed good at comforting V-movie, so I guessed you could comfort me too. Well fuck me gently with a chainsaw, I sound like Roman."

"I guess you do not want anything to do with chainsaws, but I appreciate that you would come to me for help. I am not in any way qualified in dealing with emotions, but I am suitable for providing physical help, techniques do not depend in whether you are very sad or mad at someone eating your last crofter jar." Remus smiled, which was good.

"Well that was fun." Remus stretched and half laid on the bed, his legs dangling on the edge. "But you seemed pretty out of it Wikipedia, when I came in" So much for looking collected, then.

"I was not doing well, but I am fine now"

"You can't just not tell me what bothered you, I need to know what to hit." That was nice, in its own way.

"I am afraid you cannot hit my problems, Remus"

"If you don't tell me I'll have to disagree, Logan”

"Well, why would I lie to you if it doesn't benefit me?" A short idea dashed through Logan's head, and he followed it. "Remus"

"Janus lies without reason, Logan"

"I am sure he has his reasons, Remus"

"You don't know that, Logan"

"You don't know that either, Remus"

"Logan?"

"Remus?"

"You're good at avoiding issues, glasses." Maybe Logan laughed a bit, not that he would admit it.

"I like you, but if you don't tell me I won't leave your room till eternity." Logan did not appreciate the idea of Remus in his room for an eternity, whatever that meant given that Thomas, and per se his sides, won't live an eternity.

"It is difficult to explain, but let's just say that nothing caused my distress." Remus launched himself forward to sit down properly, one of his hands playing with his mustache.

"I belive I am feeling and experiencing things that haven't happened to me. I am unsure of the cause but I know for certain that it is not an emotional response to something that happened to my person."

"Do you know when it started?" Serious Remus voice, that is definitely scary.

"I do not remember"

"So you had a crisis but you didn't know why it happened."

"Yes and I did not tell you anything about a crisis, how do you- nmg" A hand pressed his lips together, making him unable to speak.

"I think I figured out and I am not smarter than you, probably." The hands off now, that's good.

"Well then, what is it?"

"I do not know how this happens, but I know why it does. Still no clue?"

"No, I am afraid I do not know. Emotions are not my expertise."

"I don't think this has anything to do with emotions. Ok, I'm going to give you the data and see if you can complete the puzzle, live up to your title Sherlock." That nickname made Logic all warm inside, not because he was being called Sherlock but because Remus meant it as a compliment and not an insult.

"You were feeling bad emotions but they weren't yours. I was feeling bad emotions. At the same time." Logan could almost physically feel the click his brain made while connected the dots, every time he had seen Remus sad or angry after he had had an episode, but as they have also happened without seeing him, there was no need to make a connection before. But it was obvious, of course it was. Obvious as it was, it still left option for a lot of questions, like for example, why?

“Ah, well.” Logan had to stop talking, the realization dawning on him. If this is what Remus was feeling, maybe that wasn’t so good. Because he knew what he had gone through, and if he had a reason, it had probably been worse. “Well, that is a lot to take in. Remus, you have gone through a lot.” A pause for air, so he wouldn’t drown in all the weird feelings he was having now. It was probably Remus, or him, or both. “You don’t need to deal with this alone anymore.”

“I wouldn’t want to drag you more into hell with me.” Sadness, and this time Logan knew it wasn’t his, even if Remus’s smile tried to convince him otherwise.

“You are not dragging me anywhere, because we are sitting on my bed and you did not choose your feelings to go to me.” Another beat of silence, this time less dense.

“I think it happens both ways.”

“Oh. That would make sense.” Logan did not want to think of what that implied, had the other side felt the anger he couldn’t control when it escaped its grasp and flooded his senses, or was he safe. No, he probably knows now, think clearly Logic.

“Don't worry dicktective, I’m not going to judge you. I don’t do that, not even kink shaming! Unless that is your kink, then maybe I’d make an exception for you.” Logan figured he tried to sound suggestive, but in all honesty he just sounded tired. He was tired too, so tired he could jawn. So he did, at the same time as Remus. Remus smiled afterwards, less maniacal, more soft. Logan smiled back.

“We are soulmates, Logan.” The logical side was taken aback. He barely knew Remus and he was sure that soulmates meant a declaration of love so good it was as if it was chosen by the universe.

“No?” Yes, appropriate response Logan, five stars would recommend.

“I mean, that’s the drill right?. We share emotions, we share a soul. Isn’t that soulmate 101.”

“Soulmates aren’t real, those are just fairy tales.”

“Maybe Thomas wanted them to be real, so he made them real in his messed up mind.”

“That, that actually makes sense.”

“Look, it’s even making me intelligent. I should hang around your room more often.” An offer perhaps, to see where this goes. Logan is very dense right now, but he nods unsure of everything.

“Why me? I’m the least emotional side.”

“That might be what you think, but you don’t know everything.”

“It’s terrifying.”

“Not knowing or soulmates?”

“Both.”

“I figured. I am pretty scary.” A feeling of discomfort, but this time is his own.

“Not you, emotions. I would react the same way if it was any other side. Maybe not Patton, as he insists on calling me his kiddo and that would be uncomfortable.”

“I’m morally depraved and it would still feel weird.”

“Yes.”

“Yeah.” Silence, this time they are just lost in thought. A minute passes, maybe ten. Logan isn’t keeping track of time. It doesn’t matter anymore, not when his world just tilted a bit to the side.

“Logan?”

“Remus?”

“How the fuck are we going to tell the others?”

“We'll figure it out, let's worry about ourselves now.”

"Thanks Lolo."

"You're welcome Remus."

He wasn’t really sure of anything. But with Remus by his side, sounding so confident and yet so scared, maybe things would turn out ok. He was greeted with happiness, a feeling that wasn’t his but still belonged, somehow. And somehow, he knew Remus was receiving happiness as well.

@tsshipmonth2020

[randommusicalfluff]

Truth Or Dare

Editted by: @lessangrypapercollector

Requested by: @randomgirlwholovestoreadatthree

---------------------------------------------------

Thomas didn't exactly know what had gotten him into the situation he was currently in. He had somehow gotten stuck in a window, trying to impress his boyfriend and best friend. Both of them were laughing at his misfortune, much to Thom’s annoyance.

It all started a few hours before this moment. Thomas, James, and Alex we're all hanging out at Thom's place, playing board games and building a fort. They talked,joked, and poked fun at each other. That is, until the dreaded game was mentioned.

What game could possibly be this horrible that it made James shudder? The worst and most brutal game to ever exist! Your life was at the hands of your friends! How horrifying! It was….Truth or dare! Well, at least the game got that bad for the trio. Despite this fact,Alex had attempted to start the game.

"Truth or dare? Oh no, no no no. There is no way in hell I'm playing that damned game." Thomas said with a dramatic flare and crossed his arms, squinting at his boyfriend who just rolled his eyes.

"Oh stop being dramatic!" Alexander groans and shakes his head, rolling over onto his back and looking at the ceiling of the pillow fort. "Truth or dare isn't that bad!"

"That's coming from someone who hasn't had to lick a toilet seat. " James dead pans and stares Alex down, who laughs nervously.

"That- doesn't sound too bad! C’moonnn! There's literally nothing else to doooo!" He pouts a little, which got a chuckle from Thomas, and he shakes his head. 

"Y'know what? Fine, I'll play."

"Traitor!" James huffed, looking a bit betrayed.

"Oh stop being such a chicken, Jem."

The boy in question scrunches his nose up at the immature insult, furrowing his eyebrows and crossing his arms.  "Really? Name calling? We're stooping that far? Fine. I'll play. But just to see you two suffer." He cracks a smile, which gained worried chuckles from the other two

So the game begun! The three went around, calling truths or dares; mainly dares because they're definitely not chicken or anything. Some of which included Alex managing to fit a whole raw egg in his mouth, Thomas having to show them a video of him back in the sixth grade singing "Chandelier" into a hair brush, and James being forced to allow the other two to do his makeup. This, of course, ended disastrously, and Jefferson and Hamilton nearly choked from how hard they laughed at the sight.

After a few more rounds James turned to the tall southerner and asked the dreaded question, "Truth or dare, Thommy?"

"Truth."

That response got a loud gasp from both of them and a scoff following it from the asker.

"Alright if you wanna play that game, is it true that you're a coward?"

"Me? A coward? No! How could you even ask that question?!"

"Then prove it, coward."

James’ challenge made Thomas' face a little red in anger.  He marched into the main part of the living room, opened a window, and started to climb through.

See, this wouldn't seem dangerous to a normal person; until you take into account how big Thomas was for a fifteen year old. He couldn't possibly make it through that window, and the other two quickly noticed that.

"U-Uh.... honey? I don't t-think that's a- uhm...a good idea-" Alex laughs nervously as he watches his boyfriend climb head first through the window. Thomas ignored him though, determined to prove them wrong. After a few more seconds of wiggling and struggling on Thomas’ part, James and Alex were astonished.

".. He actually made it through. What the fuck." James blinks as he watches the spectacle.

Everything was fine and dandy until Thomas let out a small grunt as his hips hit the metal frame of the window. That made him...nervous. He immediately tried to wiggle and squirm his way though, or at least back into the room, but much to his dismay, he couldn't.  

"Uuhh.. guys..” he says sheepishly, “I think I'm stuck."

There was silence in the room after he told them about his ordeal before those who weren’t stuck in the window started tolaugh their asses off. Thomas blushed bright red and cursed his choice of friends under his breath..

After a few seconds longer they calmed down and Alex let out  a small snort before walking over to the bottom half of his boyfriend."Alright, let's get this idiot free."

James grins and a mischievous glint could be seen in his eyes. "Wait wait wait,” he says, putting a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “I have a better idea." Thomas really, really didn't like his tone.

"What I'm sure your dearest boyfriend has yet to inform you of, is how dreadfully ticklish he is." James starts and stands on one side of the boy mentioned. He wiggles his fingers into Thomas’ exposed side, which caused a stream of giggles to pour from him. "See? Terribly ticklish. Oh, but don't let him fool you, he's sensitive just about everywhere~" He purrs and squeezes Thomas' thigh a good few times. This made Thomas laugh loudly, a flurry of snorts, pleas, and threats mixed in with his hysterics.

"I had no idea he was ticklish...and this whole time I've been basically letting him tickle me with no charge or consequence! Oh no no… this just won't do~" Alexander squeezes one of Thom's hips, which got a loud shriek from him.

"WAHAHAIT! Wa-Wahahait- Alex!! PleHEHEHEASE-!" The Virginian shrieks out as he felt nails start to lightly skim over his hips, the gentle feeling being unbearable for the poor kiddo. Alex smirks and keeps it up.

"Huh? What was that? I couldn't hear you over all this laughter! Such a shame, such a shame." He tsks as he draws agonizingly slow and light shapes into his boyfriend's hips. Meanwhile, James was wiggling his fingers across the small portion of exposed stomach, cooing at Thomas.

The combined feelings we're enough to get him laughing his heart out, squirming and trying to wiggle away from the feeling but to no avail. "NONONO- IHIHIHIHIM SOHOHOHOHORRY! DOHOHOHONT-"

"Don't? Don't what? " James hums in response, knowing good and well what kind of reaction he'd gain from his best friend. As he had predicted, Thomas let out an embarrassed squeak and his laughter getting louder.

"YOHOHOHOU AHAHALREADY KNOHOHOW Y-YOHOHOU JEHERK! "

"But do I? I really don't think I do.. "

"Oh.. oh my gosh.. can my dearest not say tickle? " The islander gasps dramatically, before grinning widely as he could hear the embarrassment on his boyfriend's voice. "Oh poor baby~ I'm gonna hold this above your head forever!"

All Thomas could really do at this point was hide his face in his hands and laugh his heart out as he was teased and tickled out of his mind. No matter how much he begged or pleaded with the two lers, it seemed to fall upon deaf ears.

They soon stopped as they heard Thomas' laughter fall silent, thankfully, though. The two gently turn him on his side and pull him right out of the window, easy as that. The poor boy was left in a giggly and out-of-breath mess on the floor; James scurried off to grab some water while Alex rubbed his back and comforted him.

When Jem came back Thomas quickly downed the water and sat up, wrapping his arms around himself and letting out a tired sigh. "Can we just.. nap for now?" He asked; all the tickling had worn him out and the weather definitely wasn’t helping his sudden sleepiness. His question got a chuckle from the other two, but they nodded, and all ventured back to the pillow fort.

[randomvarious]

Freddie Fresh feat. Fatboy Slim - “Badder Badder Schwing” Big Beat Song released in 1998. Compilation released in 1999. Big Beat / Breaks

Let's start this post off with a graf from the preamble of a 2018 Freddy Fresh interview, conducted by Matt Lush in Decoded Magazine:

Freddy Fresh is a name that shouldn't require an introduction. From the vast output of his multiple genre-spanning labels; Analog USA, Electric Music Foundation and Howlin' Records, to winning the ARSC Journalism Award for cataloguing every hip-hop release ever made in a single book, crafting timeless acid and electro under over 15 aliases with the likes of Thomas Heckmann, Woody McBride, Tim Taylor and Paul Birkin, and the rest, big beat with Fat Boy Slim, his soundtrack work...it goes on... yet ironically, in my experience anyway, Freddy Fresh seems to be so often underrated, unconsciously ignored, or even completely unknown in the modern electronic world.

Over the course of his career, Freddy Fresh has had his fingers lodged in many different pies. In fact, those pies are sometimes stacked on top of each other so a single finger can penetrate multiple pies at once. Fresh is a DJ's DJ who can patch together eclectic mixes of house, techno, funk, disco, breaks, hip hop, electro, and more; he's produced music across a panoply of dance genres; he's founded a bunch of different record labels; he's opened for blink-182 on tour; his music has appeared in multiple films, TV shows, and commercials; he's authored indispensable books that document hip hop's early history; he's taught DJing at a local college; and he also sells rare records. Put simply, if you're not familiar with Freddy Fresh, you should be.

Freddy Fresh first found his initial passion for music in hip hop culture, entirely thanks to a 1984 trip from his hometown of St. Paul to the Bronx. From then, he would try to ingratiate himself into the Big Apple's hip hop scene, returning once every year with hopes of impressing the right people. He wasn't all that successful, but he did land a track on a 1988 Boogie Down Productions remix album, which honored the memory of BDP's recently slain co-founder, DJ Scott La Rock. Another fun fact that links Freddy to BDP is that if you look at the cover of BDP's landmark debut album, 1987's Criminal Minded, you'll see a plaque towards the bottom lefthand corner. Know who furnished that plaque for them? Freddy Fresh. His dad owned a trophy shop and Freddy gave them the plaque during one of his yearly New York pilgrimages.

But Freddy would soon find himself gravitating towards other genres, too, like house and techno. From that Decoded interview:

I sent demos to Strictly Rhythm [top tier New York-based house label] and various labels and was always rejected. It was years later that labels like Adrenalin and Experimental stood up and took me under their wings. My first techno 12 inch was on Experimental, under my Modulator name. Maximum Pulse / Timmy's Trance in 1992, that got me into the techno scene and also got me my first international DJ gig in Paris 1993 where I played with Jeff Mills, Joey Beltram and Damon Wild... Damon Wild was the man mainly responsible for my early techno career, God Bless Him.

Freddy Fresh then became a big German techno guy. He played sets at Tresor in Berlin (the techno club of techno clubs) and released records on the legendary Frankfurt-based label, Harthouse.

However, a new current started to emerge in the UK in the mid-90s called big beat, which appeared to match with Freddy Fresh's own hip hop sensibilities. It was a strain of dance music that fused together sampled soul, funk, jazz, and rock breaks, which, along with disco, is what hip hop producers largely used to make their own beats. And when those breaks were properly combined with contemporary electronic sounds, like, for example, Roland TB-303 acid squelches, it yielded a newfangled and fun brand of BIG and brash dance tunes. Norman Cook, better known as Fatboy Slim, would emerge as the genre's rightful king, with his uniquely liberal use of bouncy and surf-twangy 50s and 60s guitar samples. And although Freddy Fresh was still an absurdly prolific techno producer in 1996, his Harthouse album, Accidentally Classic, along with a couple Harthouse 12-inches that were licensed from his own Butterbeat label, saw him trying his hand at the big beat sound, which would eventually lead to him teaming up with Norman Cook in 1998.

A March 2020 profile in Mixmag has more:

While he may have been known in France for techno releases on his Analog label, it was Freddy Fresh's releases on Butterbeat that caught the ears of Norman Cook in Brighton. He was an avid supporter of Fresh's perky updates on the hip hop sound, and that's what brought him over to the British seaside. "I got invited to play the Big Beat Boutique. That's when I first met [Cook] and then he ends up sampling my voice [for 'Fucking in Heaven'], then we worked on 'Badder Badder Schwing' together. I loved Norman because he was authentic. He did everything himself. I was like, 'this fucking guy's just like me!'. He collects breakbeats, he's an amazing DJ, he knows how to put shit together and he knows how to run 303s - and Roland 303s are really hard to program.

That co-production with Cook, "Badder Badder Schwing," would originally appear on Freddy Fresh's album, The Last True Family Man, before being released as a single the following year. The single would then turn into an unexpected British hit, earning the mostly techno producer some well-deserved commercial appeal by reaching #34 in the UK charts. "Badder Badder Schwing" can also be heard in 2002's Austin Powers in Goldmember, although it didn't end up being included on the commercially released official soundtrack.

Dipping into that Decoded interview once again for a tad more backstory to "Badder Badder Schwing":

I did have 90% of that track finished when Norman joined in and took it from a 7 to a 10 with his sheer genius.

By sampling a bunch of 60s songs, including horns and drums from Helen Reddy's "One Way Ticket," vocals and hand claps from The Routers' "Let's Go (Pony)," and more drums from Tommy Roe's "Sweet Pea," Freddy Fresh and Norman Cook were able to cobble together a fantastic piece of late 90s, dancefloor-igniting big beat. However, it would be interesting to know which 90% of the track Freddy Fresh had finished before passing it off to Cook, because the whole thing really sounds like a Fatboy Slim track from start to finish. And that's not to discredit Freddy in any way, because despite what dance music's detractors might think, it's not an easy task to make a good dance tune. But the entirety of "Badder Badder Schwing" appears to have Cook's fingerprints all over it, from his glitching, jammed-up, calling card stutters, to the way the combined horn and drum sampling sounds, to the brief, guitar-sampled detour, to the eerie and overdriven background yowling. The song's main riff is when those Helen Reddy horns play, and you'd have to assume that was part of Freddy's contribution, since according to him, the song was virtually done before he let Cook put on the finishing touches. But still, that part sounds like something Fatboy Slim would make, doesn't it? 🤷‍♂️ 🧐🤔

Then again, Freddy Fresh did say about Cook in that recent Mixmag profile, "the fucking guy's just like me!" so maybe they were on the same exact letter within the same exact word on the same exact page in 1998. In the end, it doesn't really matter all that much. Big beat's passed us by, but throw this on at a party (when we're allowed to party again, of course) and it's guaranteed to still go.

Check out the music video, too, which features a kid magician doing a series of tricks:

[shhawnboi]

Dad’s Approval | Connor Brashier

Summary: Your dad hates Connor so much that even he starts questioning himself and it’s your job to remind him why he can’t be more wrong.

Word Account: 2K

A/N: This is my first imagine ever, so sorry if it’s to cringey and disappointing. Also, English it’s not my first language, excuse my poor vocabulary and grammar and please tell me major mistakes to correct them.  

                                                          *  *  *  *

Y/D/N Y/L/N, your father, is Connor’s second worst nightmare, the first one being losing you. Mister Y/L/N is the boss of the biggest lawyer’s firm on LA, he is feared and respected everywhere because he has enough power to bring everyone he wants down, and that includes Connor, luckily this hasn’t happened to him, yet.

Your dad adores you. You are his pride and joy he just wants the best for you and he thinks that Connor, a simple boy with a camera, will never be enough, so he takes every chance he gets to remind you both, that. You don’t care about you dad’s nagging words but Connor does because he can’t help but agreeing with him. You deserve better than him and he is a selfish jerk for keeping you all to himself, but he can’t bear the idea of letting you go.

Last Monday your dad called to invite you two for dinner at his favorite restaurant ‘Saint Japher’, a place designed for the upper class with menus that just a few of privileged people can afford, and in that group of people Connor isn’t included. Your father does every other time for two main reasons: to see if you are still together and to drag Connor’s confidence down (task that he has always accomplished successfully). Connor has always tried to win your dad’s favor but to Y/D/N’s eyes, Connor was just a kid who plays with a camera and think that’s a job.

When Connor wakes up, the first thing he sees is your beautiful figure cuddled against his right side. Your body is covered by just his shirt and nothing more, and it makes him feel all cozy inside because it means that all of you is his. You are completely knocked out, it’s a normal occurrence whenever you see your father, he never fails on getting on your nerves and tiring you to death, especially when he starts throwing knives at Connor like there’s no tomorrow. Connor gives you a light kiss on your forehead and decides to go out for a run, he needs it to clear his mind a little. When he steps out of bed you start moving on your sleep but you don’t get up. He tries not to make too much noise while he’s getting dressed and when he is finally out of the house, he lets a long exhale escape from his lips. Con knows that he shouldn’t give a fuck about what your dad thinks about him but he does because he agrees with your father, you deserve better.  

By the time Connor starts running following the peace of some catchy pop song, every snarky word your dad said yesterday comes to his mind, crashing him with the force of wave colliding against the rocks.

“Do you remember Thomas Lebrant, darling?” asked you father while he was looking at the menu.

“Yes dad, I remember Tom.” of course you did remember Tom, you dated him for a year... before you left him for Connor.

“I saw him him the other day, he’s doing great at medical school, he will have a bright future, he’s a very hard-working man, he asked me about you. I really think he was your perfect match.”  

Connor remembered Thomas too, your first boyfriend, he was the guy every father wanted for his daughter: perfect grades, perfect looks, perfect behavior... he was just perfect. You started dating him when you were seventeen and spent a whole year with him, but when you met Connor you started to feel things you had never felt before and you had to break up.  

Con will never forget the day he saw you for the first time. It was a sunny day in LA, he was at the beach with Sam doing a photoshoot with an Instagram model called Lydia Hanni, she was laying on the hot sand and he was supposed to be taking photos of her body, but he couldn’t focus his camera on her, he was too busy filming the beautiful girl playing frisbee with her friends. When you noticed a pair of eyes on you, you turned around and saw Connor with his camera. He waved his hand to say ‘hi’ and you smiled, at that moment Connor swears he felt his whole world stop. That was the beginning of your love story and your dad’s worst headache ever.

“Good for him, dad. I guess you told him that I’m doing pretty good with Uni and my lovely boyfriend.” you reached for Connor’s hand and you pressed a little kiss on it. Your father let out a sigh and Connor smiled at you. You had the power to make everything better.

“I told him you had a little adventure with some guy.”

‘A two years adventure’ thought Connor.

At first he thought that her dad needed time to warm up to him, but time passed and he didn’t change his mindset. He hoped that when he started working for Shawn your dad would be happy, but that didn’t occur, in fact, he got pissed because he was going with his friends to have fun in Europe leaving you alone. Nothing he does it’s good for your dad and that’s eating him alive. He tries to ignore it but it gets harder every single day.  

“Have you found a real job yet?”

“My friend is looking for a coffee guy for his office, I could call him if you are interested?”

“How much has your boss payed you for your hobby? I mean, it’s not a very hard task.”

“Did you have fun on tour? Doing nothing playing with your friends?”

He loves his job and he’s proud of it but he is starting to believe that it’s not enough for you. Your father is right, you are worth of a rich, wealthy man that can give you all you want in matter of minutes. You always say that he’s the best that has ever happened to you, but now he thinks you say that because he’s keeping you away from greater things that you’ll never discover if you’re with him.

When he arrives home after an hour of running, he goes straight to the shower, maybe that’s what he needs to clear his mind for good. Once the hot water hits his muscles, he lets a satisfied moan, a hot shower never fails to relax him.

You wake up the moment you hear the water running from the bathroom, you guess that’s Connor having a morning shower but once you notice his sport clothes scattered across the bedroom floor, you know he’s probably gone out to clear his mind a little. You can’t blame him though, the shitshow your dad pulled yesterday at the restaurant was capable to put everyone on the edge of their sanity. You have talked nearly a billion times with your dad about his behavior with your boyfriend but he always ignores it. You’re sick of it because Connor doesn’t deserve an ounce of the shit your father aims at him, no one really deserves it to be honest. Your boyfriend is the best that has ever happened to you and you’re so proud and in love with him that whenever your dad opens his big mouth, your heart breaks a little.

You decide to get out of bed and get into the shower with him to show him some love. You get rid of your shirt when you enter the bathroom. Connor hasn’t realized yet that you’re there and very much awake so you got him by surprise when you stepped into the shower.

Everything in you is alluring and lovely to Connor’s eyes and your body is no exception. He loved and praised every inch of it, it’s his temple, the place where all his problems disappear. He was completely addicted to it, therefore when you decide to enter the shower, his first instinct is to pull your naked body closer to his.

“Hi, love.” this pet-name always sends shivers down your spine and makes you smile like an idiot “How are you?” you were both under the hot stream of water, nose and foreheads touching and eyes closed.

“That’s what I should be asking, handsome.” you whisper as you kiss him delicately, like you’re afraid of breaking him.  

“I’ve been better.” he confesses with a forced smile. He doesn’t want you to worry about him but you know too well that grimace on his face and the dull look on his beautiful eyes.

“I’m so sorry about my dad, I can’t believe what an asshole he can be.” you’re really ashamed by your father, he never respects your decisions or opinions, each time he tries to impose his no matter what.  

“You don’t have to excuse him, I mean, he’s not wrong.” he looks away because he knows that if he sees your breathtaking eyes, he’ll break down in matter of seconds.

“What do you mean he’s not wrong, Con?” you hold his face between your hands and you make him look at you.

“He’s right about me.” he says heartbroken.

“No, he’s not, baby.” you try to reason with him but he doesn’t take it and watching him so sad is destroying you.

“C’mon Y/N, he’s right. You are this beautiful, kind, smart and amazing woman and I’m a kid with a camera. All your life you’ve been surrounded by the most incredible things on Earth, your dad could give you all you wanted. I’ll never be able to do that, I can’t take you to Bali every month, I can’t pay your studies... You know who could? Thomas, he was perfect for you and I took you away, if you were with him, I bet you’d be happier becau...” you smack his chest before he can finish his ridiculous speech, now you’re pissed and frustrated, he can’t be saying all of that, can he?

“I swear to god, Connor David Brashier, that if you say something like all the bullshit you have just said, I’ll kick you out of the house until your two remaining brain cells realize how utterly stupid you are.”

“Bab...” he tries to interrupt you but you shut him off before he can argue back.

“Don’t ‘Babe’ me, idiot. Connor, I love you, more than anything, you’re my world. Listen, maybe my dad has always given me whatever the hell I wanted, do you know the price? He was never there for me, I was left alone 24/7, on my birthdays, recitals, competitions, even in my own graduation, he showered me with gifts but not love. And Tom, he was a nice guy, he treated me right and all of that, always so perfect, it was boring as fuck: we never stayed three days in a row at home doing nothing besides fucking and eating, he never surprised me with 3 AM dates at the beach or with little getaways at Target... Tom was just there but he didn’t make me feel anything, not the way you do. I want you. You’re the best part of my life and I can’t imagine a future without you. I don’t care about monthly travels to Bali, I care about months just by your side. I love you Connor, you’re perfect.”

Once you finish your monologue, you notice he’s crying. You clean his tears with your soft fingers and he kisses you passionately against the shower wall.

“I love you, Y/N” he embraces you strongly, afraid that if he loosens his grip, you’ll disappear.  

“I love you Connor, let me show you.” you kneel down and that’s the only thing Connor needs to know that he’s in for a very long morning and he’s so ready for it.

                                                       * * * * 

I hope you all have enjoyed it. Please like, comment or repost if you liked it. Right now, I’m working on a long Shawn Mendes fic, tell me if you’d like to read it.

[voices-ringing-out]

MUSE INTRODUCTION: Beck

I wasn’t going to put this up because it will inevitably have many spoilers from my novel, but on the one hand, I rarely finish any novel I start, and on the other hand, I highly doubt anyone is actually gonna want to read it, so I’m not really spoiling anyone here. And besides, Beck is basically the only muse I have energy for right now because apparently he’s a comfort character for me, so I figure it’d probably be a good idea to get an intro for him out there, even if I haven’t figured that aspect of my muse page out yet. Here we go.

TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of severe bigotry, su*cide, scars, and betrayal.

EDIT: this got way too long lmao but it was nice to kind of map out Beck’s life before the novel starts, so feel free to ignore this post if you don’t wanna read a short biography lmao, this was almost entirely more character development for me than anything.

                                                              ~ * ~

full name: Leslie Bryant Faulkner nicknames: Beck (his chosen name after he lost all memories and identity), Les. age: He was 30 when he died, so unless he puts energy into changing his appearance, that’s the age he presents as. gender: Cis male. sexual orientation: Pansexual with a leaning toward men. hair: Long, it falls against his shoulders. In life he was a very light blond, and still is, though there are now silvery strands interwoven, as well as the faintest green tinge; effects that happen the longer you’re in the afterlife - it’s sort of their form of aging. eyes: Grey. Though they go a cloudy white when he’s expending high amounts of energy. build: Average weight, slightly shorter than average height. birth place: London, England, though his family moved to a small eastern town in North America when he was young. ethnicity: English, scottish, welsh, irish, danish, and romanian; as far as he is aware. He’s quite the mutt. scars/body markings: The most noticeable are the scars that form a ring around his neck from how he died. He has various other scars on his arms, legs, and face, some from his own volition but most from the hard life he led before he died. He has a few small tattoos, one of a cat’s silhouette and one of a crescent moon to match the sun tattoo his brother had. zodiac sign: Sagittarius. alignment: Chaotic neutral. positive traits/strengths and skills: Passionate, fun-loving, clever; he once had a love for journaling, can throw a mean punch, and beat almost anyone at a drinking contest. He once played the violin, and enjoyed it immensely. negative traits/flaws: Growing cynicism, an addictive personality, mischievous; has a habit of pushing people away then clinging to them then repeating the process. 

                                                                           ~ * ~

Beck was born in the year of 1882, in London, England, to a poor family; unable to continue making a living there, his family moved to a small town on the eastern coast of North America with the hope that many had of finding a better life across the sea. Beck was nine years old when they moved. Life was fairly uneventful for a while; his father worked as a coal miner while his mother worked at home trying to teach Beck, as well as his older sister - and his baby brother, born a little less than a year after they moved to America.

He was a difficult child, constantly curious and mischievous to a fault; any waking moment he had was spent exploring the town and the surrounding fields, trying to befriend any living thing he came across. He found it hard to make friends, if only because he was unable to go to the school with the other children, his family unable to afford it. More often than not, Beck found himself on the receiving end of mockery; the many reasons included his family’s financial status, his love for books, and the care he had for small animals - after getting into numerous scuffles with other boys in town to keep them from hurting the local wildlife, or the stray cats, he grew a ‘reputation’ for being a pansy, a girl, and other more vicous names. Physical fights were common, despite how much his mother fretted over him.

So while he still loved to explore and get into mischief, as Beck grew older, he spent most of his time at home helping to take care of his younger brother, and taking care of a small runt of a black cat that he had saved from a dog. He had become attached to the cat immediately and his parents had reluctantly agreed to let him keep it, as long as he took full responsibility.

After reaching adulthood, Beck had to leave home and find lodging in the city; his father had been injured in the mines, and couldn’t work anymore, leaving himself and his elder sister the primary breadwinners. His brother was still young by then; only just turned ten, and couldn’t work properly, though he tried to help by catching fish in the river near the town.

Beck managed to snag a job working for a newspaper office, helping with the printing press and selling papers. Every penny he managed to make he tried to send back home, oftentimes sleeping underneath awnings or roof outcrops on the street instead of paying for lodging elsewhere, just to make sure his family managed to get by.

He would visit home on the holidays, and had a close relationship with his brother; while Beck would send letters back home when he lived in the city, he would oftentimes write a separate letter, specially for his brother. 

After an altercation with one of the higher ups in the business he worked for - a drunken dispute caused over a disagreement on wages - Beck moved back home for a time, at the age of 26, taking a temporary job at the mines his father had once worked for. He hated the work, hated the feeling of being smothered deep inside the earth, but he couldn’t afford to be picky.

A cave in happened at the mines, and while Beck made it out alive, he was injured, and several of the miners had died. After extensive pleading from his parents and siblings, Beck left the mining business and once again moved back to the city.

From there, he mostly worked odd jobs, including but not limited to bartending, being a stable hand, and a chimney sweep. His brother was old enough now to work, so Beck was able to save more money than before, eventually getting a place of his own - a tiny flat in downtown, but a place of his own. 

And then it all began to go downhill. But for Beck, it seemed to be uphill - while working across the street from a theatre, he began to see one person in particular quite often: a man around his age, called Thomas, a middle class citizen with a love for theatre. The two of them hit it off, often going for drinks at a nearby pub as Beck got off work right around the time the final show of the night ended.

(MOST OF THE TRIGGERING CONTENT TAKES PLACE BELOW, SO READ ON WITH CAUTION.)

They became close friends, but Beck soon realised a complication: he thought of Thomas as more than friends, he thought of him romantically. He had had these feelings before in his life, but kept them secret for the sake of his family’s pride, and for his own benefit - he had come to terms with the feelings long ago but still kept them to himself.

After spending months writing journal entries about Thomas as a way to vent his feelings, he finally made a fateful decision: on his own birthday, December 13th, he would make a move. It seemed to him that Thomas felt as close to him as he did, and after all, this was the city, was it not? Surely he wasn’t misreading the signs, that maybe Thomas was like him, maybe they could have some sort of future together, outside of drinking buddies.

So, the night of December 13th, after leaving the pub where he and Thomas had made a toast to his birthday, they went for a walk as they often did, lingering for a while on the bridge near the center of the city, over the river. Beck was a tangle of nerves and butterflies in his stomach, but noticed that Thomas was watching him... that was a sign, right?

Beck tried to say something, but couldn’t get much more than the other’s name and a bit of stammering out so he took a chance and leaned in to attempt pecking the other on the cheek.

And that was when all hell broke loose. Thomas reacted violently, with disgust, and attempted to throw a punch. Beck panicked and ran, not stopping until he had run a good distance, unable to make it all the way back to his flat. He collapsed near a stable in an attempt to catch his breath and stave off the only worsening panic attack.

Before long, he heard a commotion, and hoisted himself up and onto the roof of the stable for a better look, only to see that Thomas and a mob of other men were coming down the street in his direction. 

What followed was a frenzied chase, ending with Beck throwing himself into his flat and barricading the door, feeling as though his heart would explode, from both pain and exertion. The men were soon outside, beating at his door, and he could hear Thomas’ voice amongst the din, shouting the same threats and fury that the others were, all the noise blending into a blur of God’s so-called rage and wishes for death.

It seemed that there would be no escaping this. There was only one other exit out of his home, besides the front door, and it was a window already nearly shattering as the mob tried to gain entry. 

So in a haze of terror and sorrow and grief and wishing so hard that he was with his family, Beck made one last decision: he would not allow the men outside to have the satisfaction of killing him and patting themselves on the back for it, as if they had done anything close to God’s will. 

At first, in his daze, Beck crouched in the corner, drinking all the liquor he could find in his cabinets at a breakneck pace, before finally realising that that would take too long. He had hoped that it would kick in faster, hoped that if he were to go, then he could go in a way that seemed less violent, but no.

He managed to drag a rope out from his storage closet, throwing it over one of the rafters above his table, and well, one can imagine what happened next. Thomas and the men finally broke down the door only to find that they would not get the blood they had been thirsting for, because it was too late.

Beck has spent his life in the afterlife ever since; time doesn’t exist there so he wasn’t sure how long it took before he realised that he could haunt earth, before he realised that he had special powers, before he found out that he was a category of ghost known as a poltergeist. The only trick was... he had no memories. He had no memory of who he was, of who his family was, of how he died or of any of the past life he had lived. Outside of the scars on his body giving hints as toward how he died, and the clothes he had died in, Beck had nothing except the nickname he eventually gave himself.

Then the rumours are spread of a boy who can see ghosts, can talk to them, where almost no other living person can. And, well, the curiosity got the better of him, and that’s where our story starts.

[mooksie01]

Virgil and Logan

First of all, major spoilers for the new video, so proceed with caution! tl;dr at the end ‘cause this got long. 

So it finally happened in this video. What we’ve all been suspecting for the longest time was properly confirmed: Virgil used to be a part of the group that we refer to as the “dark sides.”

Of course, with that confirmation also came some pretty conclusive evidence to the other theory that each “light side” has an opposite—in the form of Roman and Remus (lovely play on Romulus and Remus, by the way). Naturally, that means that the second the video dropped, there was immediately a ton of speculation about who Virgil’s “light side” is, as well as to who Logan’s “dark side” is, with a popular theory beginning to quickly emerge with the conclusion that Virgil is Logan’s “dark side.”

Now, I will admit that this theory is compelling for a number of reasons, one of my personal favorites being that Virgil is very grounded in logic, but a form of logic twisted both to fit his own goals and to, unfortunately, cater to and intensify his own fears. On top of that, both Virgil and Logan have shown protective streaks throughout the series. However, I really don’t think this theory is quite hitting the nail on the head...

For one thing, based upon the Rainbow Theory, which, again, received greatly conclusive evidence with Remus’ color being green, there still remains one “dark side,” Orange, and I think that whoever that is will be Logan’s actual “dark side.” I have a few reasons for thinking this:

Logan has never displayed any sort of true annoyance / fear / affectedness toward any of the “dark sides” we have encountered thus far. He has, without fail, always been able to rationalize poor behavior, whether it be from Deceit, Remus, or, yes, even Virgil. If Virgil were actually Logan’s “dark side,” one would think that Logan would be more affected by him, but he’s not. Logan has not yet been daunted by any of the “dark sides,” and has, in fact, been a vital tool in shooting down all three of them--Deceit in his first appearance in “Can Lying Be Good?,” Remus in “Dealing with INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS,” and, finally, Virgil in “My NEGATIVE Thinking.” I believe that we will finally meet someone who can actually shake Logan to his core in the form of Orange, whenever that character makes his appearance. As of right now, Logan has been the guiding force through the “dark sides”; it’s why Deceit firmly sidelined him last episode--because he’s a threat. If Logan has a “dark side,” it needs to be someone who will put him off his game so completely that the others are forced to fight him without Logan’s aid, using the lessons that Logan has taught them (as a side-note, it is my theory that this is what will finally bring us to Logan’s room). 

Speaking of the others--or, more specifically, “the others,” I find it rather interesting that Virgil refuses the term “dark sides.” He used to be one of them, but even with that experience, he obviously doesn’t believe that that title is fitting. Every single time that the word has been brought up or that Virgil has referred to those sides, he either seems uncomfortable with the title or outright refuses it. In its first appearance, which comes from Roman in "Can Lying Be Good?”, Virgil winces at its use--now, obviously this could be because he was one and that term stings a little, and that’s likely a contributing factor, but with other evidence, that just doesn’t seem fully right. In the last episode, Virgil refers to them as Deceit and “his friends.” Multiple times, he’s called them simply: “The Others,” including within this episode when, in a display that I think makes my whole point, Thomas specifically calls them the “dark sides” to Virgil’s face, only for him to immediately respond with this alternative title. This leads me to the crux of my theory:

I think we, and all of the “light sides” minus Virgil, as well as Character-Thomas have been going about this the wrong way. Thinking of the sides as “light” and “dark” may be doing more harm than good. Logan said himself in this episode that Patton/Thomas think of things in terms that are far too “black and white,” with Roman being a major contributing factor to this. Who named the “dark sides”? Roman. While I do think that some of the sides are rather opposed to one another, they are also necessary to complement each other and make Thomas into a full person--and when I say complement, I mean that quite literally. Roman and Remus are literally cut from the same cloth. They were, presumably, one full side originally before the divide that produced two Creativities. I will concede that “light sides” and “dark sides” are convenient shorthand terms, yes, but the idea of such diametrically opposed sides ignores the areas of Character-Thomas’ personality that are morally gray (honestly, Deceit is the best example of this) and forces us and the characters within the narrative to put the sides into boxes that they don’t necessarily fit in. I don’t approve of Remus’ viewpoints or many of Deceit’s, but I also acknowledge that they may have things to bring to the table--or, at least, Deceit does. And if we add on the fact that Virgil was a “dark side,” or rather, an “Other,” then that’s just full confirmation that things in Character-Thomas’ head can’t be evenly divided into “Light” and “Dark,” something which is only further backed by the Rainbow Theory--there can only be seven sides if that theory is correct. There isn’t room for each and every character to have an opposing character--a “dark” to their “light” or vice-versa--and if I were placing my bets on which character won’t, I’m going to have to go with Virgil.

Virgil’s mere existence and his very proven capacity for both good and evil is an immediate point against the dichotomy implied by the idea of “dark sides” and “light sides.” A side so neutral cannot exist within that dichotomy, and it is clear that Virgil knows this and, in fact, disputes that dichotomy through his insistence on refusing to use the term “dark sides.” At the end of the day, Virgil proves that the “dark sides” are not evil by nature--they have a very real capacity to do good for Thomas if they only decide to, and, more importantly, decide to do it with the cooperation and help of the other sides. Virgil’s redemption arc came as a result of his long-term interactions with the “light sides,” and it was through their support that he began to work with Thomas instead of against him. What is important about the current “dark sides,” Remus and Deceit, is that they refuse to work with the other sides, or even, really, with Thomas. In their current states, they aren’t good for Thomas because they aren’t working with him, in a different meaning of the word for each. Deceit believes that he is the only one who knows best for Thomas (a trait which Logan also occasionally exhibits, and which becomes a problem when it makes itself known), and it is because of this belief that he will not ever be a “light side” if he continues to refuse to change his ways--because Deceit, much like Virgil in the beginning of his character arc, cannot do good--or, in this case protect Thomas--without balance from others. A point has been made in the series that too much of a good thing is bad, and while I don’t personally believe that Deceit is a fully good thing, I don’t actually think lying is always bad, either. What makes Deceit, the character, a bad thing is his refusal to find his balance and to see that just because he advocates for something, that does not automatically make that something good. Remus, on the other hand, is in the unique situation with Roman of neither of them being a full, actualized side. By themselves, they are each only halves of a full Creativity who separated due to repression. The reason that Roman and Remus are so diametrically opposed as to make them the only true representations of the ideas of “light” and “dark” sides is because they are disallowed balance by their very natures as separated sides. Balance, and therefore, goodness and helpfulness toward Thomas, is impossible for Remus, in particular, out of the two of them, because while, in the separation, Roman was given the liberty of good creativity, even with its idealistic drawbacks, Remus was left only with the bad creativity--the thoughts that could never be helpful or necessary in, as Virgil says, the mind of a “stable” person. It is because of this that, although I do think Deceit has the capacity for good, I don’t think Remus does, and, vice-versa, I don’t think Roman has a full capacity for intentional wrongdoing--because neither is a full side. They are the only actual, indisputable justification for the use of the “light” and “dark” terms, which, again, were notably coined by Roman, who would naturally gravitate toward these terms as a half of a whole. All of this is to say that, I don’t believe there is any possible way for Virgil to have a “light” side, and thus, for him to be Logan’s “dark” side, because I don’t believe that those concepts work. Indeed, although Virgil may once have worked with “The Others,” he was never a “dark side” because “dark sides” don’t exist--just sides neglecting or unable to achieve balance within Thomas. 

In conclusion, because this has become far too long, I don’t know how much stock I’m willing to put in the concepts of “dark sides” and “light sides”--I don’t think the lines are so definite in any case except for Remus’ and Roman’s due to neither being a full side (which leaves lovely room for Roman angst, by the way, my dudes). Because of this, I don’t think that Virgil is Logan’s “dark side”. It’s a fun theory, yes, but I can’t bring myself to believe in it. I do think we’ll meet Logan’s opposition eventually, but I don’t think things are so cut-and-dry as “light” and “dark,” especially for Virgil, who not only disproves the whole thing merely by existing as a character, but who also has shown himself to be extremely threatened by both of the other “dark sides,” rather than by any “light side” opposition of his. Whereas Patton is clearly disturbed by Deceit, his opposition, and Roman is outright taken out of the picture by Remus, Logan has not yet been daunted by either, and Virgil has been intimidated by both. Virgil’s real “opposition” in this whole thing, in a way, is himself, and, more specifically his past, which he is scared to death of hurting Thomas with, just as he puts unbearable pressure upon himself to protect Thomas from that past. Meanwhile, I see no possible way that Virgil could be Logan’s opposition, because they have never held that attitude toward each other in the way that Deceit-and-Patton and Remus-and-Roman do. Even in their worst argument--”My Negative Thinking”--they ended the video by complimenting one another, and Logan, notably, by going so far as to reassure Virgil. I think that the whole concept of “light sides” and “dark sides” comes down to balance, or a lack thereof, and I don’t think that Logan and Virgil can possibly be on opposing ends of any kind of spectrum because they provide that balance for each other rather than constantly fighting for an upper-hand in pursuit of their own goals, as the other opposed pairs do. So yeah. That’s just my theory. A Sanders Sides theory. 

TL;DR - The theory that Virgil is actually Logan’s “dark side” has been floating around since the release of the new video, but, for a number of reasons, I’m convinced that this isn’t the case, and, in fact, put very little stock in the truth behind the concepts of “light” and “dark” sides to begin with, for other reasons. 

[uas-fics]

‘The Pandering Country Western Star’ Epilogue

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 

You can also read it in full on AO3

---

The final harmony of chords faded away as the video panned from a backyard scene with two kids playing to the starry sky above. Twin shooting stars shot across the sky before the video winked out to black with the words ‘Be Your True Self’ appearing on the screen.

Craig turned his grinning face to Red and Kevin. "Well? I think it was a good music video. One of my best."

The hand he kept on Tweek’s hip squeezed, and Tweek leaned against him. They had worked overtime this past month on that video, but it was the most fun Craig had had on set in a long time.

No worrying he was going to send some big, expensive Ford truck into a ditch. No pretending all the bikini-clad ladies that hung off him held any interest for him. Nothing that left him stressing out or uncomfortable by the end of the day’s shoot. Just he, Jimmy, Tweek, and Stan’s recruited kids playing around shooting a music video.

Red looked over Jimmy’s shoulder at the video editor program.

“You did all that with just some open-use software?” She asked, completely ignoring Craig.

Jimmy bobbed his head. “Yup. I’ve helped p-pl-plenty of indie musicians make their own videos. I’m practically a pr-professional.” He laughed, clicking to save the file, though he hadn’t made any changes.

Craig inserted himself into their conversation. “I asked what do you think? Of the song, anyway? Tweek and I wrote it together. It’s good, right?”

“It had a ukulele solo in it.” Red didn’t look up from the screen.

“So?”

“It had a ukulele solo.”

“I like ukuleles,” Tweek chipped in, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “I learned it before I learned guitar. Jimmy taught me. That’s ok, right? No, that Jimmy taught me, that we used it, I mean. It’s supposed to represent the wonders of childhood dreams and—”

“And that I wanted a ukulele solo in the middle of the song,” Craig cut in. Right now, Red didn’t care about the song’s themes or underlying message of self-acceptance.

She then shrugged in a way that Craig knew meant she wasn’t going to make them retool the song, but she still wasn’t sure about it.

But Red wasn’t sure about any of this.

She’d complained to Craig that taking a year off to work on himself wasn’t the best plan for his career, but Craig had waved off her worries.

A year off to soul-search and decide if country music — or even music in general — was really what he wanted to dedicate himself to had been amazing for his mental health. He felt calmer and happier and refreshing

He also had enjoyed a year to spend more time with Tweek.

Tweek even let him perform with him on a video for his channel, and it had been the most fun performing Craig had had in a long time. (He had  a lot of ‘most fun in a long time’ this past year, he was realizing.)

He didn’t have to keep up a persona or pretend. It was just an hour of him and his boyfriend caterwauling to any song they could half-way play and heaving with laughter when they messed up the lyrics.

His fans liked Tweek, best he could tell. They bombarded their video with comments about what a cute couple he and Tweek were, and how Craig or Tweek was lucky to meet the other, and that they should collaborate together on a song since their voices worked so well together.

A few ex-fans came to the video comments to stir up trouble, but to Craig’s relief both his and Tweek’s own fans were quick to shut down any trolling and report any particularly hateful comments.

Kevin rested his elbow on Red’s shoulder. “I liked the part with the space trip in the cardboard rocket. You liked it too, right, Red?”

Red grunted in response but continued talking with Jimmy about small edits he could make to the video.

“She liked it. The video and the song. You two did great.” Kevin gave them a thumbs up.

“It’s only as good as it is because of what a great lyricist Tweek is.” Craig nuzzled his hair.

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Tweek bumped his shoulder against him. “You really have an ear for melody and such a good voice. It’s no wonder you’re a star.”

“Well, you’re the only star I need,” Craig teased, earning a blush from Tweek. “You really are an amazing songwriter, though. You should be more famous than me with your talent.”

“You could write an amazing song by yourself if you wanted. I know you could.” Tweek rubbed a circle into Craig’s lower back through his T-shirt. If he were a cat, he’d be purring in delight both from the compliments and the gesture that accompanied them.

Craig grinned cheekily. “So if I wanted to write an entire album to my love of guinea pigs, I could? You’d support me?”

“Only if you let me include a song about my budgies as a bonus track.”

Jimmy gagged. "If you two are going to act like m-m-mush-mushy teenagers and shit, go to the living room. The adults are trying hard to work."

"Jimmy, I've been on a date with you, and you are no better." Tweek snorted and coiled his arm around Craig's waist so his hand also rested on his boyfriend’s hip.

Jimmy opened his mouth, thought for a moment, then shut it with a shrug. "You know what? I'll give you th-that one."

"Give them whatever you want, but I agree they should go." Red straightened back up, nearly hitting a desk lamp set on a pile of folders. "I think we all should. It’s cramped."

She wasn't wrong. Jimmy's workroom was a mess of stacked papers and boxes and old filing cabinets. Craig couldn't take a full step any direction but backwards without hitting something or someone.

Jimmy pressed control and s to save the recent changes before stretching. "I think Mrs. Red is r-right," he announced. "Besides, Stan's coming over soon. I need to make sure the house is b-b-ba-baby proof."

Craig nearly pointed out that Stan's kids were in upper elementary school, only to remember all the trouble he got into at that age and shut his mouth.

“Don’t call me that,” Red ordered before pushing her way out of the cramped office, nearly sending Tweek and Craig into a pile of works in progress.

Craig rolled his eyes.

Deep down, Red was happy Craig was doing music and art that felt true to his true self; she was just stressed by all the issues a switch in style like this would cause. There would be fans who would claim Craig was abandoning country ‘now that he was gay’ and fans who would call him a sellout.

Worse, if his new shift failed dramatically, his career could suffer for it more than it ever would for coming out as gay.

After a few minutes, everyone made they’re way out of the cramped office and to the living room. Just outside it, Craig’s phone buzzed. He took it out then pursed his lips. Tweek paused and looked back at him.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

Craig put the phone back in his pocket without replying to the text. “Thomas asking to see how Red liked the song.”

Though he was still mildly upset with Thomas, the two had worked through at least most of their problems to the point their relationship was ‘sort of friendly, but not really friends.’

It was Tweek suggestion that they let Thomas critique their newest song. Craig didn’t really like the idea of his ex giving constructive criticism over his and his current boyfriend’s work, but in the end, he had to admit that the critique had been a big help adding flow to the wording of the chorus.

“Are you going to tell him she liked it?” Tweek frowned. “If you’re going to ignore him, I’ll message him for you.”

“Nah, I’ll reply later, but right now,” Craig grabbed Tweek’s hand, “I want to go steal Red and Kevin’s seat with you.”

He peeked into the living room were Red sat pressed up against Kevin in a loveseat. She barely fit in his lap, but he didn’t seem to mind at all. If Craig sat on both of them, Red would have to stand up to push him off, then Tweek could dive in and take the seat. Craig then would proudly sit on Tweek’s lap and watch with a snicker as Red fumed about it until Kevin pulled her down to sit on the couch with Jimmy.

Chuckling, Tweek nodded in agreement.

“That sounds awesome.” And the two walked into the living room.

---

AN: Thanks to everything who reblogged and liked this work. :) It means a lot! I hope you enjoyed it. :)

[fuckyeahaldishodge]

Press: Aldis Hodge Is A Real-Life Superhero, So Give This Man What He Wants

After years of dramatic roles, the “What Men Want” star wants to make you laugh and fulfill his dreams of being a super-powered badass

    BET – Legend has it that Aldis Hodge worked cheap early in his career. Really cheap. Like, McDonald’s Happy Meal cheap. The pre-schooler was tagging along on a photo shoot for Ebony Magazine, where his older brother, Edwin, was working. The producers had a last-minute need for another cute kid and Aldis’ mother convinced him to take the gig in exchange for a coveted Batman toy. Thanks to mom’s quick thinking, Hollywood has been gifted one of its most intense and versatile acting talents.

Hodge has amassed a colorful acting resume that includes stints on shows like A.T.O.M.: Alpha Teens on Machines, Friday Night Lights, Supernatural and Leverage. But it was his moving portrayal of a restless slave named Noah on WGN’s Underground that made viewers sit up at attention and cheer with their fingers across social media. In the same year his appearance in Black Mirror as a somewhat single father named Jack living with his girlfriend’s voice literally in his head, allowed him to blend his piercing stares with subdued comedic timing. But now Hodge gets to go for the full belly laughs in the R-rated comedy What Men Want as the bartending, romantic, very single father named Will, who gets caught up in Taraji P. Henson’s mind-reading male-strom.

During a stop at BET, Hodge is adorned in gold, beads and denim fabrics that accent flawless skin that has benefited from the sun’s full attention. He walks with squared shoulders inherited from his retired Marine parents. His cape is invisible. If not for the disarming laughs cracking his intense looks, you might think he’s one cartoonish horn blare away from taking off through the ceiling to catch a meteor hurtling toward earth. Between bites of his lunch we talk about the comedy of sex, his fascination with controlling time, engineering the perfect date and being a champion for the people.

I didn’t cross reference it until just today. I just recently did an interview where I was like, “Dang, she was inside my head, too! What’s going on?” But it was pretty cool. The synergy was awesome. But with each role, I come at it with a clean slate and figure out where the tones are. I had been out of comedy for a long time, not my choice, but for the past five to seven years my career has been swinging up into the drama area. But most people don’t realize comedy is a big part of my life. I started stand-up when I was 11. When I was 13 I used to host a room at the L.A. Improv and I did that ‘til I was 17 or 18 years old. Then on Leverage we did five seasons of that. It was an action caper show but I still got to flex my comedic muscles. We killed that in 2012, so it’s been a minute. I was happy to reintroduce people to my idea of humor. Will is not inherently the braggadocios funny one. He’s not the big personality in the room. He’s reactionary. He’s gonna have a sense of realism, so his comedic timing is subtle. The tones and notes are a little more subdued, and that’s a different tone to play. But our director, Adam [Shankman], took so many different types of comedians with very different timing and put as all together and kept us on the same note. We were always on the same page. You had Josh Brenner, who most people know from Silicon Valley, Pete Davidson from SNL, Wendi McLendon-Covey from Bridesmaids, Tracy Morgan, obviously. Everybody has a different style that they’ve been hitting for a minute, and he just figured out how to weave together. And there are some people you’re not gonna expect to be funny but are hilarious, i.e. Erykah Badu. She’s hysterical. And then I’m there in the mix. As an actor, I’m always hungry for fresh challenges. I don’t like to feel like I’m sitting in a box, and when this opportunity came up, naturally I was nervous at whether or not I could still be funny, and I was hoping. But I just let Adam take care of me on that one.

Speaking of your comedic side, you pranked Taraji with honey buns on the set of Hidden Figures. Did anything else like that go down on set for What Men Want?

Nah. The prank for us was getting through the sex scenes. We wanted to get through those as fast as possible. It’s tough. It’s always a nervous environment when you’re doing scenes like that. But the biggest thing is, because it’s physical comedy, how do you do that without looking stupid? You want people to laugh with you and not at you. But thank God for Adam and Taraji. It’s easy to keep a straight face when you have nerves. We had fun with it. You let yourself fall into it. And Taraji’s a pro. If you see the movie, I took a couple of those hits for real. Some of them reactions are real!

Is it worse to know she knows your thoughts, or is ignorance bliss?

Better not to know, of course. I would not want to know who knows my thoughts. I wouldn’t want anyone to be in my head like that, but if you did know, imagine how anxious you’d be all day. You’d be like Brandon, Josh Brenner’s character, all day. Just rambling to keep people out of your head.

If you had to disguise your thoughts, what would you think about?

Man, most of my thoughts on a regular basis go to design. As soon as I step into a room I’m taking in the square footage, I’m measuring in distances, everything is art to me. Or I’m putting my engineering cap on to see how it’s built. So I don’t think anyone would want to be in my head, because it’s pretty boring. I’m a nerd, bruh.

Speaking of engineering, horology sounds like something men do after a breakup. How did you get into watch making?

I’ve been doing that since I was 19. I just love building things. I’ve always had a natural inclination to create and build, and it satisfies a necessary art. It got to a point in my career, I think I was 13 or 14, where I didn’t have enough life experience to add gravitas to some of these characters I’m trying to play. I started drafting blueprints for my dream house when I was 12. I always loved designing and building, because that’s where my imagination lives. Art is my language, and acting is just an emotional exposition of my art. So, it’s the same thing to me, just a different conduit. But the other side of me is like building, I love crafting things. Horology satisfies a lot of different things. I wanted to be an architect in school but that would mean I’d have to quit acting, and I’m not gonna do that. I’m gonna die in a director’s chair when I’m 110 years old. But what I found about the intricacy of horology and watch design is that it was architecture and painting and mechanical engineering. It satisfied so many points for me, and I could do it at my own pace.

You rarely hear of men discussing their dream house. What did yours look like?

I like space, I like nature. I like to bring the outside inside. There’s a couple of architects that I really love. I grew up on the work of John Lautner, Frank Lloyd Wright, Frank Gehry. But one of the firms I love now is Olson Kundig, particularly Thomas Kundig’s work. His houses are machines. He’ll cantilever a side or a roof and all you gotta do is crank it and you’re lifting the side of your house off. I can’t afford that in New York, but one of these days I’ll have to partner with him for a house.

Your son, Ben, in the film is adorable. What was it like working with him?

Auston Jon Moore. He’s a fun kid. I’m excited to see what happens with his career. He was five years old when we were doing it. Really spunky, good instincts. We had a good time. I was actor-parent-child wrangler. When we were shooting the rooftop scene, we had all this food out, and he kept eating the food. “We need continuity, baby. You gotta put the food back.” He’d say OK, and then we’d come back and he’d have a mouth full of chips. He was awesome.

He had one of my favorite scenes with the panties. Was your “don’t breathe” line ad-libbed?

Yes, that was ad-libbed. I was like, “The baby! What do you do?’ What would I say?” We had fun with that scene because Adam just let us be free and add as much color to the characters as possible. That was a fun day, trying to get him to put on the underwear. When he realized what it was he was like, “Hold up, fam.” So, I had to put the underwear on my head to show him it was cool.

You pulled a Mars Blackmon?

Yeah, yeah. I sacrificed [laughs].

There are two scenes in What Men Want that you’re not in, the card scene and the wedding. Which would you be in if you could?

I definitely would have loved to have worked with Erykah and have a little Taro reading. She was just pouring herself into that character. That’s her imagination splayed out on camera. But I would have loved to see Will have a session with Sistah.

What about the poker game with the athletes?

I think Will might be a card shark, but I don’t know if he got the chips to sit at that table. That was a very high-stakes game, and he’s too smart to bet his rent money. But if he had the chips, I think because of his bartending skills he could read people really well and take home a nice healthy pot.

You’ve been the subject of a lot of wish-casting, particularly to be Green Lantern. Have you ever thought of playing a superhero?

I’d love to be a superhero. I’ve been trying to be a superhero for 12 years. If that opportunity came that way, I’d eat it up immediately. I got into this business as a kid because I loved Batman. I was trying to get my Batman toys. I grew up on Marvel and DC.

Noah from Underground definitely was a superhero. How do you feel about that role years later and the impact he had?

I took it as a grand opportunity just because of the fact, when the initial idea of the show came to me, I was like, “If this is a series about enslavement, how does it work for five or six seasons? Do we want to see our people in persecution for that long? Where is the gratitude that comes out of this for the audience?” But when I read the pilot I was like, “Oh, it shows us in the situation, but not made of the situation.” It showed people in bondage, not slaves. It gave us dignity. It gave the people who went through that an actual identity. They didn’t bring slaves to America, they brought engineers and doctors, brilliant people. So, for me to be able to expose that they had hopes and dreams and still had the strength to find love in those times was immensely powerful, because we’d never see it in our history books. Our schools failed us in that. So the opportunity to add to the dignity of our people was a high honor. I look at all of those characters as superheroes. They actually added the show to curriculum in schools. This is the effect that you can have as an artist. That’s what I love.

With Valentine’s Day is coming up, how would you engineer the perfect date?

That’s tough, man, because you gotta work off the person. It depends on who she is and what she wants. Some ladies want dinner and flowers and some ladies just want to kick back and watch a movie. My ideal date would start with a little dinner, some champagne, maybe some chocolates. Then we’re gonna go to the movie theater, we’re gonna see What Men Want, I’m not even lying. Get her laughing, feeling good, then probably go dancing. Then if I really feel like I’m on my mack-ness, I’mma be like, “Hey, boo. Real quick though, I just wanted you to know that I got your mom a ticket to the movie, too. I wanna let her know it’s her Valentine’s Day, too.” And that’s my ideal date: Dinner, What Men Want and a little dancing.

What Men Want starring Taraji P. Henson and Aldis Hodge is in theaters now!

Press: Aldis Hodge Is A Real-Life Superhero, So Give This Man What He Wants was originally published on Aldis Hodge Online | Est 2010

[the-gay-in-the-way]

Librarians.

Just...librarians.

I just saw a post on tumblr again and it was that one post about the guy who had a lot of library fines in different cities and was waiting for some kind of librarian bounty hunter to come and collect but then someone replies saying that they’re amused by the post as a person but not as a librarian and he’s suddenly terrified by the implication that librarians aren’t actually people.

And it made me think of something.

What if there was this one library in this one town in Florida.

And it is, like, a MASSIVE library filled with all kinds of books and media of all genres and languages.

And there are five librarians who work there.

One is a very smart and stoic man who always wears a tie and seems to know the answer to any question you ask him about pretty much any subject.

Another is an incredibly cheerful and kind man who’s always smiling and seems to somehow know whenever someone in the library needs help with something.

Another is a very dramatic and charismatic man who never speaks at the volume appropriate for libraries and whom can give anyone a perfect recommendation for any genre of book, movie, or music.

Another is an incredibly mischievous and sarcastic man who keeps his entire body covered at all times and has a tendency to mislead people through the library before taking them to where they need to go.

And another is a very quiet and intimidating man who can usually be found walking along the tops of shelves or wandering within the shadows and whom only really appears to people when they are incredibly lost or in serious need of help.

The five have seemingly always been there.

Many assume that there is a strange sort of family line that keeps working at the library.

Some believe that the five are simply immortal and have been working there forever.

But, regardless of the strange origins of the librarians, everyone within the town visits the library for all of their media related needs.

Meetings for clubs and organizations, and even the town council, are held within its spare rooms.

Events occur with frequency, with things like movie nights every Friday and small one to five man performances and book readings held every Saturday.

The smart man tutored anyone who asked, young or old, on any subject you could think of.

The cheerful man was always willing to offer emotional support when anyone was in need of it.

The dramatic man always encouraged people to follow their dreams and would offer his own form of tutoring should anyone wish to be a performer of any discription.

The mischievous man played harmless pranks, on his own or with anyone who wished to join in, that made life in town a little more exciting and fun.

And the quiet man, despite his intimidating appearance, was always there to help when a terrible event happened in town, sometimes going so far as to put himself at risk to do so.

And, one day, a young man moves into the town and is told these things about the library.

“The library is a wonderful place.”

“The librarians are a little strange but they’re all very kind.”

“You should go there when you get the chance.”

“But never go on Wednesday’s.”

The man hears these things and is confused.

“Why not?”

And the townspeople explain, with a seriousness that evokes no argument.

“Because the doors never lock, but nobody is allowed in the library on Wednesday’s.”

“The librarians are never around on Wednesdays.”

“And the library is always dark.”

“We don’t know why and we’ve never gotten an answer when we asked.”

“We just know we shouldn’t go in on Wednesdays.”

“Or else we’ll regret it.”

And that is the beginning of the story of Thomas Sanders and how he came to meet the five strange librarians of the mysterious Kendrith town library.

Or, basically, this is what happens when I read something funny at midnight when I should be sleeping.

Y’know,(weird little tangent here. Feel free to ignore this.)I lived most of my life in a part of town we called “the boonies”.

Basically, we lived in a heavily forested little neighborhood a couple blocks away from a marsh, a cemetery, and an old school bus depot.

It was a nice enough place, when you ignored all the weird drug addicts and drunk alcoholics hanging out in their garages.

And there was a specific little area of that neighborhood that used to really spark my imagination.

It was this weird alley way kind of place between the fence that guarded the “rich” neighborhood and the overgrown foliage that hid our neighborhood away from them.

It was just this open strip of green grass at the end of a long road.

And, when you got to the end of that open strip of grass, you’d find a tiny creek of sorts with mostly stagnant water and a similarly tiny wooden bridge that went across it.

Once you went over the bridge, which was small and unstable so you had to be careful or else you’d fall into the water and get stuck in the mud(trust me. I learned this from experience.), there was this trodden path through the undergrowth that led into a strange outcropping of bamboo.

The trodden path ended at a clearing within the bamboo.

Once you were inside, you couldn’t see anything outside.

The bamboo was so dense it created a pretty solid wall that was impossible to get through.

Within the clearing was a variety of odds and ends.

Boxes full of neatly organized clothes, some interesting little knick knacks littered the ground and sat upon empty boxes that sheltered more delicate things like a battery operated radio and some papers held still beneath rocks and other knick knacks, and some assorted crates that surrounded a tiny fire pit.

I eventually found out that our resident homeless man, who’s name escapes me at this moment, lived there.

He was an incredibly nice and hardworking man.

He actually used to go to the Hardee’s at the edge of our neighborhood and clean up the parking lot in exchange for food.

Sometimes people would run into him and say hello.

He accepted charity when it was offered but never asked for anything.

He always seemed pretty content with his life and nobody really knew why but also never really bothered questioning it.

He was just always there.

A part of the neighborhood.

And everyone was okay with that.

Just like how we were okay with the weird animals that appeared out of the marsh.

And the mysterious sarcophagus somebody accidentally dug up before reburying.  

And the strange glowing things that suddenly appeared sometimes in the afternoon, despite us not having anything like lightning bugs in our part of Florida.

And those times when people would kind of just disappear for a day or two before coming back with no knowledge of leaving in the first place and a weird injury of some kind that they didn’t actually know the origin of.

Actually writing this all out is reminding me why I don’t talk about my neighborhood a lot.

But, oh well, too late now.

Anyways, we liked our resident homeless guy.

But, unfortunately, he died after getting hit by a car one night and now there’s a little cross next to the road in front of the Hardee’s where it happened.

Everyone mourned him, including myself, and now that little clearing is empty.

But the bridge is still there. 

Broken and falling apart from age, but still there.

The trodden path is messier but still noticeable.

It’s still just as beautiful and enchanting as I found it to be when I first discovered it years ago.

The area past all of it, that leads right to the marsh itself, is still just as crowded in foliage and little strange landmarks.

Once I found a tiny house made out of plants.

Another time there was a box with a padlock on it.

And, at one point, I even found an old book lying next to a bag and a makeshift staff(It was literally a really big stick with some twine keeping a cool looking crystal attached to one end.).

My neighborhood was weird and most people didn’t believe me when I tried to talk about it.

So I stopped talking about it.

Or, at least, I stopped trying to convince people that I was talking about my neighborhood in the first place.

I wrote a lot of stories about it instead.

It still inspires me today.

A lot of my stories, the fantasy ones that nobody reads, take place in the sort of fantastical world that was my literal backyard.

This is one of them.

Although it’s not exactly the same, it has similarities in my head.

I created the town of Kendrith when I was in elementary school.

In my mind, it was the world hidden within that back alley.

It was the place you ended up at when you ventured into the bamboo.

And this library idea reminds me a lot of that.

An impossible library with five seemingly immortal librarians that everyone knows and simply accepts as part of the town.

A library shrouded in mystery.

Beautiful and comforting and safe, but also strange and intimidating and dangerous.

I always loved thinking of things like this.

It’s comfortable to me.

All of the legends and fairy tales.

All of the fantastical things that totally couldn’t be real but somehow still exist.

*sighs*

Sorry.

I kind of just needed to talk about that and get it out of my system.

This librarian idea really reminded me of that.

And the idea itself kind of just came out of nowhere when I read that post.

And now this is a thing and I kind of want to write about it.

Which is unfortunate, since I have a lot of stuff I should probably be writing instead of this.

Unless people want to read about this.

If anyone does, feel free to tell me.

I’d be more than happy to dig through all of my old notebooks with all my old notes on Kendrith and the magic system I created back then.

Heck, maybe I can revive that old dragon language I made up in high school.

That could be fun.

I was already thinking of using it for the fantasy AU anyways.

So, yeah.

Anyways.

Thanks for reading all of this mess of thought, if you did.

I hope you got some enjoyment from my weird rambles and ideas.

Here’s the gen taglist.

@a-snoway-afternoon @ashrain5 @virgilscat @gumdrop2113@chelama @dragonsight9 @marse-422 @derpiest-unicorn @i-identify-as-a-mango @fearfilledvirgil@lunariadyva-multifandom-blog @blitzgamev

Tell me if I missed you or if you’d like to be added or anything.

(Also, I promise I’ll actually respond to comments and things tomorrow.)

(Everyone in my family has birthdays at almost the same time, so I’ve just been “partying” with everyone for a while now and it’s kind of exhausting to deal with even more socializing than I’m already dealing with.)

(I’m still happy to get messages and comments and asks tho, I’ve just been too anxious and tired to answer back recently.)

[thesweatycollectiontyrant]

1776

Funny how we have yet another patriotic musical. This one actually does start with a snare drum. Today’s Bop for America is 1776.

Background Info

1776 is a fantastic show that premiered on Broadway in 1969. It has a fun score, and something cool about it is that it doesn’t have too much music. Every song in the show feels and sounds very essential to the story and score. The plot involves the founding fathers signing the Declaration of Independence. Interesting story: 1776 holds the record for the longest time in a musical without music. Over thirty minutes pass between “The Lees of Old Virginia” and “But, Mr. Adams”. Orchestra members were even allowed to leave the pit.

Writers

1776 has music and lyrics by Sherman Edwards, who didn’t write much for the stage, but wrote hits for Elvis Presley and Sarah Vaughan. The book was written by Peter Stone, who has written plenty for the stage.

Who’s Singing?

I chose to listen to the 1997 Broadway Revival Cast Recording. The revival starred Brent Spiner as John Adams, Linda Edmond as Abigail Adams, and Gregg Edelman as Edward Rutledge.

 Let’s Do This

The overture begins with the sound of America. It segues into one of my favorite opening numbers, “Sit Down, John!” by a monologue delivered by John Adams. Then all the men bombard him.

“Sit Down, John!” is something of absolute genius. The constant shouting of “open up a window,” the orchestrations in it, all of it gives the ambience of a super hot room you have to get out of. The harmonies for the Congressmen are stacked really well, with some nice cross-voicing between the First and Second Basses, and boy, these notes get pretty high. The tenors get up to a Bb. Not to ignore that the chorus splits into six different parts. I love this opening number because it’s very memorable and exciting. It really does a good job of setting the mood of the show.

“Piddle, Twiddle, and Resolve” is a song for John Adams in which he complains about Congress’ lack of working. There are some great moments in the orchestrations, where the harpsichord and strings double each other in a nice way. Near the end, John’s wife, Abigail begins to sing and talk with John.

“The Lees of Old Virginia” is a sensational song. It is so boisterous! The word play is also incredib-Lee (why did I let myself do that) impressive. I love the guy playing Lee, Merwin Foard. He has a really big voice and it shows in this fun song.

I really enjoy the overall classical theme in this show. Something else that I think is very true to the time period, but also funny is that they constantly refer to states as Pennsylva-nee-uh and Virgi-nee-uh. Anyway, “But, Mr.  Adams” is a song where John Adams is trying to convince different representatives (and Ben Franklin) to write the Declaration of Independence. At the end, the men sing “we may see murder yet” and the tenors are on a high Bb. Already impressive. Then, the chord goes from a C7 to a Db chord and resolves to a nice big ol’ F major.

This next song, “Yours, Yours, Yours” started and I already knew I wasn’t going to like it. To confirm that feeling, they rhymed “vanilla” with “pillow”. There’s just a large sense of not knowing where the beat is in this recording. Come on, y’all.

“He Plays the Violin” is one of the more famous songs from the show because of Betty Buckley’s sheer greatness. Lauren Ward plays Martha Jefferson in this recording, and they took the song down a half-step for her. The song is normally in Eb and they took it down to D. Of course, there is a key change that goes up a half-step during the dance break. The song ends in Eb, rightfully so. Something Seth Rudetsky pointed out in his Deconstruction of this song that I really like is that the notes Martha sings are like how a violin is tuned: by fifths. The melody written out in solfege is “sol-do-so-re-la-la”. “Sol” to “re” to “la” are all fifths. If the composer wanted it to sound like a violin, that was a really awesome way to do it. Lauren Ward’s placement on “and then it will be” is absolutely remarkable. A pure “e” vowel. Like COME ON. I love it.

Dickinson and the men rejoice that John Adams isn’t around in “Cool, Cool, Considerate Men”. It features yet another genius rhyme of “Hosanna” with “banner”.

 It’s basically the Conservative men reminding everyone that they’re Conservative. That’s all I’m going to say on the subject. Decent harmonies. I actually do like the stacked harmonies on the word “cool” towards the end.

“Mama, Look Sharp” closes Act One. This song is so depressing. It’s about this guy who said both of his best friends died on the same day, and he describes the thoughts his friends might’ve had while they were dying. It’s very simple. I love it.

This show has the shortest Act Two I’ve ever seen with only four songs. “The Egg” opens Act Two with a trio between Thomas Jefferson, Ben Franklin, and John Adams, and also has the chorus. I love Pat Hingle as Benjamin Franklin because he is undeniably playing the character first and foremost even if that makes him sound bad sometimes.

There’s a lot of dialogue in this cast recording, which I like. Another more famous number in the show is “Molasses to Rum”. Sung by Edward Rutledge, who was once played by John Cullum on Broadway and in the film.This song plays a lot with compound rhythms, which is always challenging. This song is very interesting in terms of subject matter. South Carolina’s representative, Edward Rutledge is for slavery and accuses the northern colonies of being hypocrites because the prosperity of the North thrives on molasses, rum, and slaves. Obviously, the Congress doesn’t want this, so they do not remove the clause that condemns slavery, and the Carolinas and Georgia walk out. This song is probably one of the best written in the show because of its dramatic weight, but also the music in it is absolutely phenomenal. ALSO THE ENDING ON THIS RECORDING. Wow. Screaming trumpets.

Abigail has a little moment called “Compliments” that honestly should be longer. The women in this show are very short-changed.

John has the last song in the show, called “Is Anybody There?” He is discouraged, but determined. He decides to have a brighter look for the future of America. The ending is a little anticlimactic. The Liberty Bell rings while the men’s names are announced.

Audition Songs

“Piddle, Twiddle, and Resolve” - John Adams, Db3-Eb4

This is a very good song for a Baritone to sing. It’s not well-known, and there’s several places you could cut from.

“He Plays the Violin” - Martha Jefferson, Bb3-D5

This is a great song for Mezzo-Sopranos. It’s not incredibly high, and it has a nice classical flair to it. Just cut the men’s parts at the end.

“Molasses to Rum” - Edward Rutledge, Eb3-Ab4

This is a fantastic song. It is very well-written. It’s good for both performance and auditions. It has a really dark subject matter. This would be a really good song for an audition for a character like Dom Claude Frollo. Someone who has morally wrong beliefs, but they’re so sure that what they’re doing is right that it doesn’t matter that it’s actually wrong. Good for both Baritones and Tenors.

To Wrap It Up

This show would’ve worked a lot better as a play than a musical. I do suppose that I need to read the script to get the whole thing. Something that kind of annoyed me with this particular recording is that a lot of the written melody was either changed or spoken over. That’s annoying to me. Just sing it. I know that there have been productions where the cast has been changed to all women. That sounds so perfect. The theatrical world we live in today with people of color playing people who were probably white, like Hamilton, and Glenda Jackson playing King Lear should allow a Broadway production of 1776 with a completely female cast INCLUDING women of color. Or just a regular production with both men and women of color. Like, imagine Audra McDonald as John Adams. YES PLEASE. There was an Encores! Production of 1776 recently starring Santino Fontana as John Adams, and there were several men and women of color in the production, and it looked and sounded like 1776. Still the same show; just a different take on it. All in all, this is a good show. I think it should be produced more often, especially in today’s political state and climate. This show is also very accessible for high schools and colleges that could cast it gender-blind. Why not?

Get it.

[futurewriter2000]

Pancakes

A/N: Hello anon and HAPPY NEW YEARS! Its 18.30 here and while my computer is being a hoe right now I really  want to post this already. I really hope you like this one as I said I’m having some kind of writers blog and this is like 4th version of this request.Â

REQUEST: Hey author.. I was wondering can you do a james potter imagine. A happy ending one though..

Warning: Fluff

Pairing: James Potter x reader

xx

You were sitting in your room, preparing yourself for the final year in Hogwarts. Three weeks before you jump on Hogwarts Express for one last time. It was almost heart-rending but you were excited to start new chapter in your life. Your own apartment, new job, no parents... It was like a dream come true.

Hearing a knock on your door, you put your books down and turned around. “Come in.”

Your uncle peeked out of the door with a small simper. “Hey Honey. I need you to pack your stuff today.”

“I’m already packing. Can’t you see. Books, quills, parchment. Ready to begin a new and last year.” you beamed, closing your trunk.

He looked down on the ground and played with his fingers. “(y/n), your parents sent me a letter, saying you need to pack and leave right now.”

“What? Why?” you suddenly felt a lot more worried to the situation.

“There was another attack in your neighbourhood last night. The deatheaters are after your parents.”

“What do you mean another? There was a first attack too?” 

“Honey, there is a war happening. They sent you here so you could be safe and now we need to leave, because if they are after your parents, they are after me too.” he spoke softly and walked towards you. He took your hands and looked at your scared (y/e/c) eyes. “ You’re going to stay at my old friend’s house before you start school.”

“But that’s like three weeks from now. I can’t just hide from them. I’m old enough to fight them.” 

Your uncle chuckled and stood up.”I know you want to fight. But they are terrible people, and what I need from you right now is to be safe.I promised your parents to protect you ” 

“Fine. But as soon as I’m done wit school I don’t want to be left in the dark anymore.” you demanded and got another chuckle from him.

“Sometimes you remind me so much of me, when I was your age.” he said before leaving the room.

“Wait you still didn’t tell me who I’m staying with!!” you shouted from behind and sat back down on the bed, but got no reply from him.

----

“Prongs! This is not funny!” yelled Sirius running after James.

“You want it boy. Come an get it.” he laughed, running aound the living room with a letter in his hand. “Fetch!” he yelled before throwing the letter through the window.

“I am not a dog James!” he yelled, tackling him. 

“Well technically-”

“Piss off.” retorded Sirius, on top of James and pinning him on the ground. 

“Boys, please!” shouted Mrs. Potter as she walked in the kitchen with another plate of cookies.

And as the smell of freshly baked cookies entered their nostrils, they both jumped on their feet and ran into the kitchen. Seeing plates and bowls of  freshly baked chocolate-chip cookies, their eyes started glowing.

“Is this heaven?” asked Sirius, reaching for a cookie but was immediatly slapped on the hand by Mrs. Potter. 

“No cookies for the two of you.” she spoke quite flatly.

“What do you mean no cookies for us? Then why make so many?” asked James, furrowing his eyebrows while Sirius’ eyes were glued on the delicious cookiesitting on the plate.

“Hello boys. Are you ready for our guest?” smiled Mr. Potter and walked over to his wife. His eyes drifted to the kitchen-full of cookies getting a tiny sparkle in his eyes. “UUU, cookies.” he beamed and rubbed his hands together.

“Guest?” said Sirius and James in unison, wearing the same confused expression as Mr. Potter as Euphemia hit his hand with a spoon.

“Didn’t your mother tell you?”

“I thought you already told them?” asked Euphemia, quirking an eyebrow at her husband.

“Well, we will-”

“Shit!” spoke the voice coming from the fireplace with a big crash and interrupting Mr. Potter from further explanation.

They all walked over to the living room and looked at the middle-aged man standing there, covered with ash. He tapped his clothes, releasing the ash all over the living room before his eyes finally set on the four family members, staring at him.

“Fleamont!” he exculted and opened his arms.

“Thomas, my old friend!” beamed Mr. Potter and walked over to give his old friend a hug. 

After they broke apart, Thomas looked over to the other three. “Euphomia. Lovely as always.” he charmed and kissed the back of her hand. “And you must be James!” he beamed and shook James’ hand. “You’ve grown since the last time I saw you.” 

“Nice to meet you sir.” replied James.

Lastly Thomas’ eyes finally drifted on Sirius. “And who might this young lad be? Did the two of you have another kid I don’t know about?” 

“Sirius. Sirius Black.” smiled Sirius and offered him a hand.

“Merlin’s beard!” gasped Thomas, shaking Young Black’s hand. “You’re Orion’s boy.” he smiled and looked at Mr. Potter. 

“Unfourtunately.” sighed Sirius.

“You’re father was intimidating back in Hogwarts, but your mother boy... boy she scared the hell out of me.” he smiled and turned to Fleamont.

“Thomas, you dated Walburga.” chuckled Mr. Potter.

“That doesn’t mean she didn’t scared me.” he whispered. “So? Where’s (y/n)?” he clapped his hands and looked around.

“Your niece? She didn’t come yet.” said Mr. Potter.

“Bloody Floo Powder. I knew it was a bad idea.” grumbled Thomas and walked back to the fireplace.

All of a sudden they heard a knock and they all looked at the door. Mr Potter slowly approached the door and carefully opened them. Seeing a young girl covered with ash and an innocent look on her face, he felt relieved. “Thomas, it’s her!” yelled Mr. Potter and was immediately pushed away by your uncle.

“Oh thank god, you’re okay.” 

“I hate the Floo Powder.” you asserted with an angry glare.

---

A week has passed since your arrival and you absolutly loved it here. Mr. and Mrs. Potter was so kind and nice and the food was amazing. Hanging out with Sirius and James was really fun. Sirius was always up for an adventure and the two of you got a long just great. James on the other hand was quite something.The two of you went along just fine, but you couldn’t deny you felt something towards James, you didn’t with Sirius.

Your uncle left soon after he knew you are going to be safe here. He wrote you letter, including your parents, but he made sure you got a letter everyday. The nights were terrible. You couldn’t sleep in this big, comfy bed of yours. You kept thinking of oyur parents and uncle if they were okay, You just didn’t want to lose them.

After a long night of twisting and turning in your bed, you were finally able to fall asleep. But your sleep was soon disturbed by a small cracking in your room.

“(y/n)?” whispered James and put his hand on your shoulder. “(y/n).” he repeated and nudged you a bit.

“Nooo.” you groaned after realizing you’re awake. “I just fell asleep. Why are you doing this to me?”

He chuckled and sat on your bed. “I’m hungry.”

“So?” you huffed in your pillow.

“So.. I want pancakes.” he grinned and laid next to you. 

You opened your eyes lazily and saw gorgeous hazel eyes smiling at you. The moonlight shining in the room you saw his messy hair in a beautiful dark color with a few brown strands standing out. But you weren’t ready to swoon over him. It was too early and you were exhausted. Turning on the other side of the bed and snuggling into your freshly washed covers you simply replied. “Sorry Potter.”

“Come on. I can’t wake up mum just to make me pancakes.” he annoyed and pulled the covers off.

“Tell Sirius.” you muttered, ignoring him and curling up in a ball.

“He can’t make pancakes either.” 

“What makes you think I can?” 

“Well, you bragged you made the best pancakes in the world so there’s that.” he grinned and jumped on the other side of the bed to see your face. “Plus you’re already awake.”

“But its too early.” you whined.

“Okay. Fine. You just go back to sleep. I bet they are not that good anyway.” he teased.

“Excuse me!” you exclaimed and finally sitting up on your bed. “For your information I make hell of a great pancakes.” 

“Prove it.” he goaded making a sly smirk appear in the corner of his lips.

---

“Is it supposed to be this brown?” he asked, looking at the mix and furrowing his eyebrows.

“Probably not. Try adding some flour.” you replied looking for some eggs.

“I thought you knew how to make them?” he smirked and walked over to a bowl of flour.

“I’m a bit rusty. It’s been long since I made them.” 

“How long excatly?” 

“Umm...a year or two....” you muttered under your breath.

You tried to avoid his gaze. It wasn’t excatly a year or two, it was actually years and years. He saw your reaction and he knew you weren’t telling the truth. “You’re lying.” he chortled and walked over to you with a bowl still in his hand.

“Okay so maybe it was longer than that.” you turned around and noticed he was standing an inch away from you. Feeling some fluttering in your stomach and the heat on your cheeks you pushed past him and walked over to the brown mix.

“You don’t know how to make pancakes!” he gasped and started laughing.

“Piss off. At least I know the ingridients to it.” you defended yourself.

“You liar.” he cackled. “All talk aren’t you.” he continued to tease you, walking closer with that stupid smirk of his.

Feeling angry and embarrased you grabbed the flour from his hand and threw it in him, making him finally shut up. Seeing his face covered with white flour, you couldn’t help yourself to laugh.

“Did you just....” he grumbled and removed his glasses.

“That’s what you get for provoking me.” you laughed.

“Oh? This is how it’s going to be?” he spoke angrly, but couldn’t help himself to smile.

Seeing his devilish smile appearing under that powder of flour you suddenly  stopped laughing. “James don’t.” you implored as you saw him take an egg from the box. “Don’t you dare James Potter!” you begged but he was already backing you against the wall. “It will take forever to take it out of my ha-”

But before you could finish he has already splat the egg on your head. Feeling the yolk slowly slid down your face you looked at his vitorious smile and grabbed the pancake mix and walked towards him.

“No! We’re even now!” 

“Not even close.” you smiled and pured the mix on his head. 

When he tasted the mix on his lips, he started caughing. “Oh god. This mix is terrible.” he grimaced and shivered a bit. 

“Now we’re even.” you smirked and put the bowl back down. 

“Yeah, you won.” he smiled and started approaching you slowly.

“What are you doing? Stay away Potter.” you argued and backed away from him.

“Come on winner. I need to congratulate you on your win.” he grinned and continued to walk towards you with his eyes opened.

“Hell no.” you laughed and turned around to run. He grabbed you from behind and lift you of your feet. “Eww.” you grunted and tried to get away from his grip.

“Isn’t this great? Two friends making up.” he chuckled and put you down on the ground, his arms still wrapped around you.

You tried to get away from him but instead you stepped on the yolk and slipped, pulling down James with you. 

As soon as you realized you were lying on top of James, his hands around your waist and his messy hair, covered with brown mix, all over his face you started laughing. “You look terrible.” you laughed moving away the brown mix from his face. 

“Just like my stylist.” he joked, his arms still wrapped around your waist and his hand touching your bare skin.

Feeling the tempeture rise at the feeling of his touch you felt the fluttering in your stomach once more. To avoid anything embarassed, you looked him in his hazel eyes and appologised. “I’m sorry.” 

“Me too.” he chuckled. “I should have never asked you to make pancakes.”

“I wasn’t lying James. I used to make the best pancakes when I was eight.” you boasted a bit and playfully punching him in the chest. 

“Oh did you now. I wonder what happened?” he teased and moved away the  strand of your sticky hair. “ You know what? I’m glad you’re here.” he spoke softly with his hands slipping under your shirt and down to your lower back.

“I bet you are.” you grinned and pressed your lips on his. It was a messy kiss. A perfect kiss where even the horrible brown mix felt good. 

He pulled away and grinned .“So glad.” he hummed and pulled you back into another kiss.

[smittyryker]

No Comfort Zones (Thomas)

Requested by an anonymous! Enjoy!

The Reader doesn’t want to leave the Glade, at least not without convincing from a certain someone.

“Wake up, Greenie,” you teased, clapping Thomas on the right shoulder as he laid on his left side in the rickety hammock provided for him. “Newt says I’m giving you a lesson on Gardening.”

He groaned as he stretched. “What fun,” he said, sarcastically. You gave him a look; hoping he wouldn’t be the next Minho.

Technically, he wasn’t. They weren’t much alike, except for now what was both of their jobs - Running the Maze.

You were happy, since Thomas confided in you about how he had been curious about the Maze since day one, but couldn’t help your mind from flashing back to your dark days in the puzzle-like cement walls. Thomas didn’t know you were a Runner once.

He came back from the Maze, tired out and heavy-breathing, but his hair fell swiftly over his forehead beside where the beads of sweat formed. It was only after his time in the Map Room that you were allowed to strike up conversation; and you tried to do it as often as possible.

“Thomas!” You waved, and his eyes darted around before landing on you.

“Hi,” he opened with, jogging over to you and holding onto the straps on his backpack. It took a few seconds for you to pry your view off the handsome boy’s arms and back to his face; but even seeing that was a treat.

“Find anything?” You asked, assuming you already knew the answer; but when a giant grin was apparent on his face, your brows almost knit together.

“I think we did,” he said in a small voice, running his hands up and down the straps as he awaited your reaction.

“W-well? What is it?” You questioned, curiosity taking over; but only for a little. The rest of your emotions were described by your churning stomach. Did any of you really have a chance? You doubted it. You doubted it so much.

However, you listened intently as he spoke about the Griever Hole, and mentally stapled your mouth shut so you wouldn’t rain on his parade, although eventually, you probably would have to. If Thomas thought rummaging through a hole to get out of the Glade; a hole where the Grievers live; then you’d be too damned to go inside.

“That’s amazing, Thomas,” you said anyway. You’d be lying if you weren’t excited that he had found a clue, as you liked to refer to it by, but it didn’t overpower your fear. Not one bit.

It was thrilling to see Thomas so happy, though. Unwillingly, it gave you a sensation that you had never felt before; it was including stomach churning, but you weren’t afraid. You liked the feeling. In conclusion, you liked Thomas.

“We can all have a life outside here. I-I can’t believe that,” Thomas kept going with his one-man speech, and you chuckled.

“If we play our cards right.”

His eyes flashed for a second, and spontaneously, his hand went to the nape of your neck. He cocked a brow, and you smiled. With the approval, he brought you close enough for him to place a kiss on your forehead.

“I’m gonna tell the others, if Minho didn’t already.”

“Minho keeping his mouth shut about running? Seems like a long shot,” you inquired jokingly.

He shook his head, laughing. “You’re too smart... I’ll see you, Y/N.”

You bid him a goodbye, lip between your teeth and all. Did Thomas, like you?

The glances that lingered for a bit too long and the rose-dusted cheeks whenever you tested him out with a compliment lead you to believe that maybe the Greenie had fallen for you; half as hard as you had fallen for him.

He was kind, but determined enough that he knew what he wanted and would do anything to get it. The only thing your mind couldn’t grasp about that, though, was the fact that he wanted to get out. Would it be possible to get it in the first place?

Your skin crawled as you mentally changed the subject, keeping your head focused on planting some seeds for a potato plant.

But, that night, klunk hit the fan.

The Doors didn’t close, and the Grievers came. You hadn’t ever been met with one; but had been in a dangerously close proximity back in your running days, enough to scare you out of the Maze forever.

The loud clicking sounds the mechanical monsters made caused your palms to slap over your ears.

“Shut up...” You mumbled. “Shut up. Shut up. Shut up!”

Seeing as your cover in the tall grass was gone, you took off. A figure came closer and closer to you, and you hoped their body was all in one piece. Some of those you had seen weren’t.

You heard them scream your name and instantly recognized the voice.

Thomas grabbed your hand once he was close enough to, ushering you into the broken council hall with the others.

Your body shook as the Grievers prodded at the doors, roughly cramming their metal, spider-like arms in through the structure, breaking it in more places than one.

It was a miracle you survived that night, and that miracle so happened to be the boy you had a crush on.

Then, as if whoever the Creators happened to be were playing tricks on you, klunk hit the fan harder.

Thomas stabbed himself in the thigh with the needle that dripped blue liquid, leading to the dreaded Changing.

You were by his side as he awoke after two weeks, heaving as he sat up.

“Thomas!” You chimed, until you had remembered how he had done this to himself. Your tone changed to demanding all too quickly, but he didn’t seem to mind. “Thomas, never pull a stunt like that again!”

“I won’t,” he gasped out. His hand slid across the hard ground of the Slammer until it was fitted in yours. Gently squeezing it, you forgave him instantaneously.

Realizing where he was, he raised a brow. “What happened?”

Newt explained everything; how Gally had taken control and the others had sided with him.

Gally was the human embodiment of a ticked off bull. You hated that Thomas managed to piss him off; even though you knew it wasn’t his fault really.

Watching in horror as Gally gathered his ‘friends’ around the North Door, your mind pondered what on earth he was thinking; but it didn’t take a genuis to know that it wasn’t good, whatever it was.

“You really think banishing us is going to solve anything?” Teresa tried snippily, attempting to struggle out of the ropes that were tied tightly to her thin wrists. You cringed at the sight of it; but more so at the fact that Thomas was soon-to-be in the same situation.

Gally didn’t care about them, though, and you knew it. In fact, that was even more evident when he smirked, shaking his head maniacally. “It’s not a banishing. It’s an offering.”

You nearly choked on the air around you. Watching Thomas double-over in pain after a kick, you winced, and tried running to his side in a second. Tried. Instead, Gally’s loons had other plans in mind, and grabbed you in a successful attempt at holding you back. A grunt left your lips.

“Don’t even try,” Gally laughed, but in that moment, he put his guard down, and the Gladers on Thomas’s side took the opportunity to gang up on him. Quickly, Minho’s machete was placed so close to Gally’s neck that you knew he could feel it hovering over the skin. At least Thomas was free.

He held a stick in his hand, so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. He eyed you, and you gave him a confused look. Everything was executed to perfection; it in no way was improvised. How come no one told you about their plan?

Thomas looked back to Gally, angrily, but he spoke in a steady voice that almost passed off as calm. Almost.

“You don’t have to come with us, but we are leaving.”

Your heart dropped, then sank when he went on:

“Y/N, c’mere. We’re gonna be free.”

There was nothing harder than speaking up, but you knew you had to. The Glade was your home, despite praying to get out all these years, and, sillily, when you had the chance to finally leave, there was a reason to stay tugging at you. That reason was: you were scared.

“Maybe Gally’s right,” you said quietly, but nonetheless, all the Glader’s eyes were on you in a second, searching your face for any sign that you could be joking, but found none. It was unbelievable; you knew; that Gally had put Thomas’s life on the line and yet you were still on the same side as him.

Thomas’s incredulous gaze at you bothered you the most, pushing insecurity through your veins. You had betrayed him, in a sense, but you were too petrified at the thought of what could lay outside the Glade to change.

“What?” He asked, eyes narrowing.

You tensed; shivering as he continued on.

“Y/N, you have to be kidding... Are you kidding?” He added in a voice so gentle that you felt bad for even disagreeing with him. Still, you shook your head. Standing your ground was a must, especially in a world where there was barely any real order, despite what the leaders say. It was a prison, a madhouse; but it was too difficult for you to step foot into whatever the real world had in store.

“Listen to your lady friend, Thomas. You don’t want to go out there,” Gally said firmly, crossing his arms across his broad chest.

Thomas’s face fell.

“Y/N,” Gally began, turning to you. “He’s just trying to scare you into going. You’ll regret it if you do.”

Although it was Gally of all people saying those words, a big part of you agreed with them completely. You had survived in the Glade for three years, and you obviously assumed you could last many more. That was, before the Griever attack, but you were too confused to even consider it in the moment. The Maze was a scary place; scarier than the Glade could ever be.

“I’m not trying to scare her, she’s already scared,” Thomas snapped, his eyes hardening as he looked at his enemy. Then, he turned to you and lowered his stick. “If we get out, we’ll only have to fight the Grievers once...”

“Shut up, Thomas,” Gally snapped, jaw clenching.

He kept going anyway, trying hard to reason with you. “But if you stay here, you’ll be watching them kill those of you left. Every day.”

“Shut up, Thomas,” Gally repeated.

Thomas merely ignored him. “Don’t you want to come with me? To be safe?” He practically begged. 

You couldn’t take it.

“We won’t be safe out there!” Your eyes landed on Newt, who had attempted suicide because of the pressure of running in the Maze with no way out. You thought of yourself next; all the times you had cried yourself to sleep after cutting your timing too close in the Maze. You vowed to yourself you’d never go in again, and you intended to keep that promise with yourself.

“We’ll make it out! I promise!” He shouted enthusiastically, but you knew it was as artificial as it came.

“We won’t!” You snapped, bumping shoulders with the Gladers who crowded around you as you stalked off to the Deadheads; where the bodies of those were who so much as tried to get out of the Glade. There was no hope for any of you, especially those who tried to leave for good, like Thomas. You were damn near sure of it.

Then, you took off running, tears sliding down your cheeks, chest heaving up and down. It was damn near faster than you had ever ran in the Maze, and that said a lot.

You made your way to a tree and sat behind it, invisible from anyone’s frontside view; but, in minutes, you had company.

An audible sigh flowed through your ears from behind you, but you didn’t obtain enough energy to bother turning your head.

A veiny, calloused hand was on your shoulder as the figured kneeled beside you, and you knew it was Thomas by the touch.

The tears didn’t refrain from falling. “I can’t go with you,” you whispered, choking on your sobs. “I want to,” you started, finally letting your now bloodshot eyes look into his. “But I can’t.”

His hand brushed away stray hairs that had fallen in front of your face, and he cleared his throat. You looked away.

“Y/N.”

You nodded your head gently, but it wasn’t enough.

“Y/N,” he said again. “Look at me. Please.”

You complied, sniffling.

Thomas’s brow creased at the sight of you in a look of dissatisfaction. “I’m sorry this is happening. Come here,” he said slowly, pulling you into a hug.

You blinked your tears away into his shoulder, dampening the blue-green fabric. He shushed you soothingly, rubbing small circles on your back.

“Y/N, I’m scared,” you heard him say into your ear.

You pulled away from the hug. “You?”

He nodded, a small smile gracing his beautiful lips. “Everybody’s scared. Me, Chuck, Teresa, Jeff, Minho, even...” He trailed off, cupping your face. “I know I haven’t been here long. Why trust me, right?”

“It’s not that.” You grinned sadly at him. “I used to be a Runner. It.. screwed me up.”

Aiming your eyes down, his index finger was under your chin in no time, pushing your head up so your gaze can meet his. “You don’t seem screwed up to me.” With that, your cheeks burned.

He spoke again. “I know what we have to do. Besides, I’ll protect you with everything I have.”

A nervous smile graced your lips, too. “Maybe I’ll be the one protecting you.”

He laughed, lip caught between his teeth, making your heartbeat quicken. “I wouldn’t doubt it for a minute.”

Thomas pushed himself off the ground, holding his hand out for you. Reluctantly, you reached for it as he pulled you up, chests touching.

“Come with me. I’m making you,” he joked, but it didn’t make you feel better.

“Are we going to be okay?” You asked, knowing he didn’t have the answers, but needing validation for your actions. Knowing frequent Griever attacks would occur in the Glade wasn’t enough.

“Yeah, we are,” he responded.

So caught up in his words, your breath was taken away from you when his mouth was pressed flush against yours, his hands on your hips. He squeezed them, making you squeal into his mouth and tense, before you inevitably relaxed and put your hands around his neck. You kissed for a long time; five minutes or ten minutes, you had no idea; but you didn’t care. Three seconds would have been enough.

He pulled away, sucking a gulp of air into his lungs after he did. Lacing his fingers with yours, he nodded his head towards the North Door.

“Let’s go. We’re gonna make it.”

It was all you needed to hear to begin walking towards your future.

[distractedhistotech]

MSA +1: How Lewis Met Sydney

Starting school in the middle of the year was rough.  Kids have already made friends and formed groups for the most part. It’s not impossible to be added to an already formed group, but it can be difficult.

Being an unusually tall kid who has amnesia and showed up literally out of nowhere and talks to seemingly no one tends to alienate a person as Lewis was quick to find out.

It hurt that the other kids thought he was strange or scary.  He tried to make the best of it by talking to a janitor ghost who’d stuck around because he felt the school wasn’t kept clean enough.  Still, Lewis would like a friend his age.

And then Sydney transferred to their class.

Sydney had had to move suddenly due to her mother being transferred for work.  She’d lived in Kansas previously.  She wasn’t exactly happy about moving since she’d finally made some friends at her old school.  It wasn’t easy to make friends when she was so…weird.  Still, she didn’t really have much say, so here she was standing at the front of a new classroom in front of a bunch of kids.

“Everyone, this is Sydney Scoville…Jr?” the teacher stated with a bit of confusion at the last part.  She glanced at Sydney.  Sydney was wearing pants and a T-shirt with Wolverine on it so she would have been able to pass for a boy if she hadn’t worn a hair bow to prevent that from happening again.  It had been awkward enough in kindergarten when three weeks in she found out that everyone, even the teachers, thought she was a boy.  This teacher looked like she was trying to figure out if she should ask which Sydney was.  “So…why don’t you tell us about yourself?”

“I’m a girl,” said Sydney, just to get that out of the way.  “My dad wanted a junior and Sydneys can be boys and girls.  I like comics.  And cartoons of comics.  My dad reads me comics.  Sometimes my mom.  We need more comic cartoons.  I like Beast Wars too!  Waspinator talks funny like he’s buzzing at the same time.  And he blows up at least once an episode.  He must be immortal or something.  I like Dinobot too.  It’s too bad he died for real.  His clone just wasn’t the same.  He was creepy.  Why did Megatron keep cloning him anyway?  It’s not like the original liked him.”

“Uh, Sydney, you’re getting a bit off topic,” noted the teacher, who was already wondering how to handle this child.

“Oh. Sorry.  I have really bad ADHD.  You’ll probably have to tell me to pay attention a lot.”

“Thank you for telling me that,” said the teacher in a slightly strained voice.  “Why don’t you sit in the front?”

“Great!  I can never see over any of the other kids,” complained Sydney.  She really hated being short.

Sydney had to be told to pay attention two times, had a daydream about the X-Men, and tapped out a tune with her pencil when she was supposed to be doing a worksheet by the time recess came around.  She happily started swinging back and forth on the monkey bars for several minutes before running over to some sort of giant spider looking equipment.  She didn’t know what it was, but she could work with it.

“Onward my noble steed!  We will conquer the mantis men come hell or high water!”  Was Sydney attracting the attention of everyone on the playground? Yes.  Did she care?  No. “Ready the aphids!”  If they wanted to join in, she wouldn’t stop them.  If they didn’t, oh well.

“You’re weird,” said a boy who was missing a tooth.

“I know,” said Sydney as she tried to figure out what the aphids were even for.  Aphids ate grass and plants, but the mantis men wouldn’t be eating that.  Maybe it was a crop for their food animals?

“What’s wrong with you?”

And that hurt because Sydney liked how she was, even if it was far from perfect.  “What’s wrong with you?” she countered.

The boy bristled. “I’m not the crazy one!”

Sydney stuck her tongue out at him.  “You’re a meanie butt!”

The boy’s response was to grab at her shirt and nearly drag her off the spider.  “What’d you say?”

Sydney promptly headbutted him in the nose.  The boy dropped her to grab at his nose and she immediately tackled him to the ground.

Fortunately, one of the teachers had seen the boy grab her and reached them before Sydney could start punching the boy.  “Hey, break it up!”  She pulled Sydney off the boy.

“She hit me!” complained the boy, still holding his bleeding nose.

“You’re both going to the office!” said the teacher.

Sydney groaned. The first day and she was already gonna have to see the principal.  Just great.

The rest of the kids, Lewis included, just watched the two kids get marched back inside.  That was crazy.  That girl had just attacked Thomas.  Yeah, Thomas was a bully, but still…

Sydney got lucky. Thomas, the jerk, had caused problems before, so she got a warning and a call to her parents, but they didn’t have to come to school.  They’d probably take away her TV for a week or two, which was really annoying, but she was getting better at reading.

By the time Sydney was allowed to leave the office, it was time for lunch.  A secretary showed her the way to the cafeteria and where her class was sitting and left her to it.  Sydney looked around.  Most of the kids were sitting in groups.  A few seats could be open, but kids had placed items on them so they were off limits.

Near the end was Lewis sitting by himself and feeling lonely.  He really wanted someone to talk to.

Sydney, having decided this was the weird kids table, sat down across from Lewis.  “Hi.”

Lewis’ eyes widened. “H-hi.”

“Is this the weird kids table?  This seems like the weird kids table.”

Lewis looked down. He certainly wasn’t normal. “Yeah…”

Sydney nodded. “Good.  I’m Sydney.  I said that this morning.  I probably didn’t need to say it again.  What’s your name?”

“Lewis Pepper.”

“Ooh!  I love peppers!  Especially stuffed with melted cheese!” said Sydney as she started munching on wasabi peas.

“That does sound good,” agreed Lewis.  “What are those?”

“Wasabi peas. Want one?”  Sydney held one out.

Lewis eyed it carefully and took it.  It looked like a pea.  He put it in his mouth.  “Spicy!”

“Yeah, wasabi is like horseradish but Japanese and green,” explained Sydney.  “So, why are you weird?”

Lewis’ eyes widened again.  “Um…I, uh, don’t wanna say.”

“Okay,” said Sydney. She went back to eating.  “Do you like purple?  You’re wearing a lot of purple.  My dad says that’s royal stuff.  Are you a prince?”

“No,” said Lewis. “My parents are chefs.”

“Are you a chef too?” asked Sydney.  “What sort of stuff do you cook?”

“Oh, no, no, I’m too young!” said Lewis.

“That sucks,” muttered Sydney, ignoring the gasp from Lewis.  “I’m not allowed to help cook either, but that’s cause I would probably get distracted and set something on fire.  I bet you wouldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t…?”

“Set anything on fire.”

“Oh.”  Lewis wasn’t sure if he would or wouldn’t.  He wasn’t even sure how to work the stove. “Uh…So what do your parents do?”

“My mom just got promoted.  Now she’s a bank manager!  My dad does some part time stuff and makes cosplay parts.”

Lewis blinked. “Cos…play?”

“Yeah, costumes, like Halloween, ‘cept it’s whenever,” explained Sydney.  “I wanna be Sailor Moon next Halloween.  How ‘bout you?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” muttered Lewis.  He’d hadn’t figured out what he liked yet.

“You don’t talk a lot,” commented Sydney.

Lewis blushed. “Sorry.”

“Why?  There’s nothing wrong with that,” pointed out Sydney. “If you don’t like to talk, then you don’t have to.”

“Okay…”  Lewis just didn’t know what to make of Sydney. “You’re really different.”

Sydney nodded. “Yep!  I like being different.  Normal is boring.”

Lewis frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well…”  She made a vague gesture towards their classmates. “Those kids probably have the same story.  They have parents with mostly normal jobs, families, they like playing with other kids. Girls like Princess stuff.  Boys like robots.  That sort of thing.  Not a lot of fun stuff to talk about.  Not something you’d remember.  You’ll remember me, right?”

“Definitely,” said Lewis.

Sydney nodded, taking a sip of her juice.  “And you don’t even know me yet.”

“So, you’re different because you want to be remembered?” questioned Lewis.

Sydney shook her head. “I’m different ‘cause I’m me.  If I had to change to make friends, then they’re not real friends.”

Lewis frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I’d be sad if I had to act like a normal girl.  So if they want me to be normal and sad, then they’re not my friend.”

Lewis had to admit that made a weird sort of sense.  “So, it’s better to be alone and happy than sad and with friends?”

“Yeah, but it’s even better to be happy with friends,” said Sydney.  “But…friends are a lot harder to find.”

Lewis tensed and glanced towards the other kids.  They must have had an easy time making friends with each other when school had started.  Lewis had tried, but when he’d talked about the dead people and the cemetery and not being able to remember things…the other children had called him scary.

Lewis didn’t want to be scary.

The bell rang, signaling that lunch was over.  The kids started to packed up and headed back to class.

 The next day, Sydney decided not to do her bug war game.  Instead, she was climbing all over the jungle gym, pretending she was a monkey.  Maybe one of the ones from The Jungle Book. She started humming the song King Louie sang.  How did he mistake Baloo for a lady chimp?  Is he nearsighted?

“Um…”

Sydney looked from where she was hanging upside down and saw the boy she’d sat with at lunch yesterday.  What was his name again?  “Lewis!” she shouted, making him jump.

“Uh…”

“Hi!  What ‘cha doing?”

“…Can I play with you?”

Sydney brightened. “Sure!  I’m a Jungle Book monkey!  What do you wanna be?”

Lewis had never seen the Jungle Book.  “A puppy?”

“I love puppies! So, what brings you to King Louie’s kingdom?”

“…I got lost.”

“Yeah, this place is weird.  Wanna go find Mowgli?”

“Okay?”

“Let’s go!” 

15 years later, Lewis thought back to that day as he looked at the picture in his anchor. He’d had no idea just how close the two of them would become, how much he would come to care for her.

He closed the anchor.

They’d see each other again soon.