#JT also sent me with that last line | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

maya-matlin · 7 months

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Hi! It's your devoted Degrassi anon again. I just sent you my first ask since joining this site and now you're also getting my second :) I like how you analyze characters so am asking more about similar and different traits like I did about Zig x Maya in my last ask! What do you think are a few similarities and differences between...Jay and Manny? Between Spinner and Paige? Between Cam and Maya? Between JT and Liberty (good luck finding similarities!) I hope you have fun answering!

I appreciate you continuing to send me asks. I'll do my best with some of these because to be honest, I typically don't think to compare and contrast the characters.

Jay and Manny are interesting because they're both extremely different and yet oddly similar. In spite of having a questionable past involving pursuing guys and not being entirely fair to other girls in the process, Manny is overall an extremely loving, loyal, supportive person who is more likely to help someone make the right decision than destroy their own life. This is particularly true from season 5 on. Jay, on the other hand, is a chaos demon. He's rarely ever the focus of a story line, so for that reason his exact motives are unclear. Maybe he's bored. Maybe he's being malicious. Maybe he legitimately thinks that his underhanded methods are the ideal way to get the outcome he wants. Personally, I lean towards the latter. I think his entire grasp on morality is skewed. For this reason, he rarely ever gives the best advice in a situation, almost always making things worse for the people around him. At least prior to his character development, as much as you can call it that. Manny's a dreamer who is determined to make her acting dreams come true. Jay's more pessimistic and doesn't seem to aim very high. While he eventually settles down with a stable job as a mechanic, it never seems like this is his dream. He's good with cars and has developed enough as person where he's willing to work a legitimate job to make money rather than stealing or like.. being drug dealer adjacent? Whatever you want to call his involvement in JT's dealing back in season 5. But ultimately, both love life and enjoy a good scheme. They're not afraid to lie or stretch the truth to get the outcome they want. While Jay typically does this for "evil" reasons, for Manny it's mostly so that she can live her life freely without judgment or being held back. Also, in spite of everything negative I've said about Jay, he's actually a very loyal person in his own way. Once he truly cares about someone, he never gives up on them. He misses Sean after he moves back to Wasaga Beach and quickly resumes their friendship when Sean returns to town. After Alex dumps him, he repeatedly pursues her. Initially, he only wants Alex as a girlfriend and even attempts to undermine her newfound feelings for Paige so that he can get what he wants. But once Alex comes out and he accepts that there's no future for them, he seems content to be in her life as a friend. Spinner and Jay have lots of ups and downs before forming a firm friendship, but Jay consistently tries to help Spinner even it leads to toxic results. Once Manny enters Jay's life, he basically never considers another girl after that. Manny kind of speaks for herself. Manny's a consistently great friend throughout the series. We see this most notably with Emma. No matter how many periods of estrangement they go through or whatever shitty things Emma says or does to Manny, she always quickly forgives. Off the top of my head, I can't think of a single Manny friendship that she ever permanently left behind other than when she was briefly friends with Paige? Unlike Jay who has very few personal connections, Manny has several. And lastly, neither is particularly judgmental. Jay has his own moral compass, and Manny learned through multiple mistakes that everyone fucks up and deserves compassion.

As for Spinner and Paige, I think they're mostly opposites. Both wanting different things out of life is the reason things never worked out between them. Initially, Spinner and Paige had shallow similarities. Both valued popularity and kind of "ruled" over the school through fear and intimidation rather than compassion. While Spinner intimidated others by using his muscles, Paige connived and hurt others using her words. As the years went on, both eventually grew out of these traits. Paige's growth came first. Following her rape, she gradually became a kinder, wiser person. She underwent another dramatic change following her trial. Facing off against Dean and getting closure over her rape seemed to put things into perspective for Paige. Other than during her feud with Manny at the end of the season, she mostly starts looking towards her future and moving past her previous mean girl characterization in favor of being someone grown up. This is very apparent in the way Paige handles Rick following the paint and feathers humiliation in contrast to Spinner, who basically kicks Rick while he's down. We see that Paige is a very ambitious person with goals to attend Banting and later, to have some sort of role in the fashion industry. Spinner's the opposite. He doesn't seem to know what he wants for his life for a long time. We're supposed to be happy that he decides to be a cop mostly because he wants to play the hero and participate in what no one will call police brutality. Thankfully, he just sticks with running The Dot. By the end of Spinner's run on the show, he's become a much wiser, kinder person. Just not in the same way as Paige. Paige can be extremely judgmental and particular about the people around her making the "right" decisions for their lives. This is typically rooted in classism. Within reason, Spinner is very supportive of all walks of life. It's telling that unlike Paige, Spinner seems to come from a working class background. As soon as he's old enough to get a job, he finds one. Paige only gets a job specifically because she has to pay Spinner back for wrecking his car. I guess because of the differences, Spinner is fine with wanting "humbler" things? I'm not sure how else to describe it. As Spinner tells Emma in their final regular appearance, he's happy with his life. He doesn't want fame and doesn't care about being rich. He seems completely content where he is and simply wants a partner to share that with him. Paige's lack of being able to do this is the reason things didn't work out not only with Spinner, but with Alex.

Sigh. Here's the thing about Cam. I always struggle to say much of anything about Cam or the kind of person he was. I don't think he had a very well defined character. So much of Cam's personality and the way he interacted with others was wrapped up in the fact he was suicidal, depressed, anxious and overall in a miserable headspace during his time on the show. What did he want? All I really know is that he didn't want to play hockey, desired happiness, and liked being around Maya. Cam showed somewhat of a talent for singing, but nothing was ever done with that and it didn't seem to be something he took seriously. He was angry and jealous over the clear vibes between Zig and Maya and perceived Zig as a threat. That's about it? Maya was much more layered than Cam ever was, even during her own depression arc. So, I kind of feel like it's unfair for me to say things like Maya was more outgoing than Cam, was more interested in exploring a physical relationship, or that she navigated social situations better than he did. Or, even that Maya was more ambitious than Cam because she was committed to making her music happen during seven out of her eight seasons. Who's to say what Cam was like prior to arriving at Degrassi? Did he always hate and resent the thing he was best at, or did his mental health lead him there? What if he'd survived or never attempted suicide in the first place? I'd have a lot more to say. But unfortunately, it comes back to the fact Cam was a pretty straightforward character who only existed for one purpose. Sorry. I know this is a disappointing answer. What I can say is that both Cam and Maya at different points were hurt kids who were crying out for help. Their red flags weren't taken seriously or noticed until it was too late. Thankfully for Maya, she got a second chance and was able to get the happy ending she deserved. Cam was literally created and killed to be the personification of Maya's trauma. Otherwise, you could say they were both awkward, insecure kids in their first relationship just trying to figure things out.

I feel like it's going to be pretty impossible for me to come up with similarities between JT and Liberty. They're polar opposites that attract. Liberty is logical. JT thinks and acts based on emotion. Liberty aims to find a stable career. She eventually attends law school. JT wanted to go into the entertainment industry. He was happy working on a basic cable show for kids. I guess if I had to list a similarity, it's that both are willing to stand up for what's right? It's the thing that leads to their relationship upgrade in season 4. But surprisingly, Liberty is braver than JT in many ways. Even though she's the more logical one who tends to play by the rules, it's JT who backs down and is prepared to play along while Liberty is adamant that the recent tragic events shouldn't be ignored by Raditch. But honestly, it's all their very opposite traits that seem to complement one another. This allows them to meet in the middle. At their best, Liberty is happier, lighter, and more daring with JT while JT becomes more sensitive and practical (at least somewhat). It's honestly a shame that their relationship was destroyed so quickly thanks to the pregnancy. Had they been allowed to continue growing without Liberty getting pregnant, I think the rest of their relationship would have played out much differently.

#Anonymous #suicide tw #Long post #These will definitely be published late because my brain has been in a fog lately #There's no in between #Either I have a lot to say or can't string two sentences together

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letsbenditlikebennett · 4 years

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Encounters of the Strange Kind || Ariana & Frank

TIMING: Before the last full moon during the nightmares POTW PARTIES: @frankmulloy & @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: Ariana goes to watch a soccer match and bug her favorite bartender, Frank. Some nightmares brought to life make for a strange afternoon.

It wasn’t often lately that Ariana found herself with a free afternoon and as much had been preferred. Just when she felt like she was finally beginning to move forward again, Winn had to go and die on her, too. If she let herself sit in all those feelings for too long, she was almost certain she wouldn’t be able to find it in her to get up again. Moving was easier. At least that’s what she had kept telling herself, but now the erratic weather meant soccer practice was cancelled which means she wouldn’t spend the rest of her day coaching. She was far ahead on all of her projects for school and she didn’t want to bother Blanche or Grace yet again. The weather also meant a run with her dog was out of the question so she opted to drink beer and watch some soccer matches at Perfect Pint. It wasn’t the world’s best distraction, but bugging the bartender had always proven to be a good time. While the USWNT wasn’t playing, she threw on the Rapinoe jersey Athena had gotten her anyway. Something about channeling Rapinoe had always left her feeling a little tougher. Which was saying a lot because most days, she considered herself to be pretty badass.

Considering it was a weekday afternoon, Ariana found the bar wasn’t overly crowded, so she grabbed a seat in front of the women’s Olympique Lyons team’s match. While they weren’t her team, she remembered Kaden was a Lyons fan. It gave her some sort of deeper attachment to the game which meant it’d be more likely to hold her attention. She waved at Frank as she settled into her seat and gave him a wide smile. Confidence was key to no one questioning her fake ID. “How are you doing today,” she asked brightly before adding, “I’ll take a Guinness when you get a chance.” She hadn’t liked it at first, but it grew on her. She admittedly just said the first thing she looked at the first time she came here and just kept going with it.

Frank had always considered Perfect Pint a lesser form of Soul. Less sticky, less sleazy, less were the chance of someone kicking someone else’s teeth in—or maybe that was just his shift. Maybe in his absence the patrons that gathered at the latter establishment were perfectly pleasant, either way, the Irish bar was a welcomed breath of civility before the shit-storm the evening would no doubt bring. The presence of another gancanagh added to the ease of simply being as the pub owner exercised a control over his ability that even after all these years Frank had never fully mastered. His pheromones fluctuated to a rhythm of its own make, a song Frank was not privy to and struggled still to understand. But the shadow of a smile that threatened to break his mask of perpetual indifference came at the hands of one that, legally, shouldn’t even be allowed at the bar. They both knew this— that no matter what her ID said, Ariana was not 21, not the fact that he silently enjoyed her company. No drink was strong enough to make him admit anything so personal. But more than that, if he admitted it, then it must be true, and if that was true then so was the very real possibility that she was only hanging around him because of the reason that most people were. The same reason he slid people their drinks across the bar, why he was always so generous with his distance, why he didn’t smile when he turned to meet Ariana but rather regarded that she was there—of course she was wearing a fucking Rapinoe jersey—another body to warm the bar’s seat.

“Do you have an ID for that Guinness?” Frank said, with perhaps a little too much enjoyment, after the glass was already in his hand. “I get the pub is Irish but you know that American laws still apply right?”

Something about the chatter around the bar was much more comforting than the near silence of her apartment. Ariana was glad this place was close to her new apartment and that her fake ID never seemed to be extensively questioned even though it seemed fairly obvious Frank knew she wasn’t 21 yet. Plus, they always played the soccer matches so it always gave her something engaging to do even if she didn’t have someone joining her. As Frank asked for her ID, she pouted and dramatically pulled her wallet out of one of the pockets in her cargo pants. “You know, you keep not remembering me and my very iconic blue hair, I’m gonna stop tipping… okay, that’s a lie,” she responded with a small laugh as she slid her ID across to him. She gave him a pointed look as she waited for him to set her beer down. The urge to do a triumph fist pump was resisted. Instead, she motioned her glass up in a cheers motion and took a sip before commenting, “You never told me how you were doing. You haven’t seen any weird fish lately, have you?” She’d seen a few of them floating around along with some other strange things. Still felt like a good idea to check in and make sure everyone was staying safe amidst the crazy that was White Crest.

The threat of no tip was met with a slight upward lean to the corner of Frank’s mouth, which was more of a smile than most could say they’ve ever received from the infamously stoic bartender. The Guinness had already slid across the bar’s top to her awaiting hand before she had even pulled the ID out; the presence of the little card vaguely acknowledged though not such attention was paid to its content. “Fine,” he said, and he was fine, and was happy to leave it at fine, but of course, Ariana had a talent for catching his attention when he least expected it. Like, say, a remark about weird fishes. “This whole fucking town is weird.” Frank would be remiss to say that the amount of fog that blanketed the town was a common occurrence, not to mention the pair of bright glowing lights that peered eerily behind them. Logically, he’d sooner owe it to a pair of headlights, than anything stranger, which was rich coming from a guy with giant wings sticking out of his back. Logically, he also knew that no vehicle or trunk had lights that large, that moved so silently, seamlessly-- there was nothing mechanical about these lights. “Why? What have you seen?” A pause. The temptation was to close the distance between them, but alas (at least this time) habit dug down its heel, and so did Frank. “What have you been up to kid?”

Of course he hadn’t actually bothered to look at her ID which made Ariana laugh a bit. While Frank was never the overly talkative type, she did enjoy his mostly quiet company. It gave her something else to focus on when the game wasn’t enough to keep her thoughts from drifting somewhere darker. He was a bit of mystery though and fine almost never meant fine. She knew better than anyone because she’d put that brave face on every day for the kids and a little bit for herself. “I hate that word,” she stated plainly, “90% of the time it’s bullshit, but I’ll give you that one.” At least his response to the question about fish led her to believe he wasn’t completely clueless to the ways of this town. That made it easier for him to stay safe. “You know, you’re not wrong,” she agreed, “Some of it is good weird though, like the dog toys falling from the sky. My dog had a field day with that one. Still, probably a good idea to avoid the giant floating fish if you can.” For a moment, she could almost detect a hint of concern in his voice though he still kept his distance. She didn’t want to alarm him, so she shrugged and answered, “Honestly, I’ve seen a lot, but more recently it’s been the floating fish. Thankfully, they seem to mostly just kind of float by if you don’t bother them. I may be tough, but I’m not exactly eager to see if I can take on an oversized flying fish.” The answer to his next question was decidedly nothing good outside of school and work. Between ghost hunting, avoiding sleep, and her plans to turn Ace into a werewolf like her, she was decidedly not staying out of trouble. Not even a little bit. “Oh, you know-- work, class, typical young we-- people things. I opened up an Etsy shop, so if you need any custom woodwork or repairs, I’m your girl,” she responded hoping her answer sufficed even if she definitely left big bits of the truth out. She shifted in her seat slightly and a puzzled look crossed her face as all the TV screens in the bar went fuzzy. That was weird. It was a perfectly sunny day out so she couldn’t think of any good reason for the television picture to just go out.

For reasons too complicated, and probably too depressing, to dissect without the supervision of his therapist, Frank had somehow convinced himself of being able to care for little else beyond that which directly affected him. Now Frank was a great many things but never the uncaring type, and while he was a talented wordsmith (when he had the energy to be) he was, as was the nature of his species, a poor liar. Even to himself. So when “fine” was met with a reaction that was far from it, his heart—he was frequently surprised to learn, or be reminded, of its existence—reared its head, and fixed a tender gaze on the younger girl. He said nothing however, feeling that it was the wrong time to press, but he would remember the minor outburst, and keep it close to heart. While Frank himself was still challenged with admitting to the existence of the strange and unnatural, despite himself being one of those strange and unnatural things, to have Ariana confess to it so readily, and so casually at that, made it concrete, and real. No, the lights were not in fact a truck in the foggy distance, it was indeed a giant floating fish. That was normal now. He was part of that normal. So what happened then when a normal person has spent his entire life believing he was not? How does he come to terms with that? The answer: he doesn’t. He instead focused his attention on anything else, on anyone else. “Right, so that sounded decidedly unconvincing. Your fake ID is more convincing than…whatever that was.” He waited for a characteristically snappy response, but when she looked up at him—no, past him, her brows knitted together at whatever the TV was showing. “What are you…?” Nothing, the TV was showing nothing, and yet she seemed entranced, or at least concerned enough to be curious. This made him concerned, and by the way the few patrons that were in the bar were whispering and mumbling to themselves and each other, it was going around.

“Jesus H,” the dish rag draped over his shoulder, Frank sought for the remote and tried to turn it off, but the battery was either flat or the TV refused to obey. Logic supported the former, and logic made him reach up to press the button on the monitor itself. That was when water started leaking from the screen. Logic offered no sound explanation for that. Somewhere within the bar came a yelp as the water from one of the leaking TVs (was he seriously admitting to that?) short-circuited the juke box. No, Frank thought decidedly, it had been two weeks since he last fed and he was too fucking tired for this shit. “Yeah, I’m not cleaning that shit up.” He tossed the towel aside, stuck his head into the kitchen and announced his early finish. “No offence but I don’t think your game is playing kid,” he said and ducked out from behind the bar. Something wasn’t right, and frankly he felt no great desire to stick around, and owed to some strange endearment he’s found in Ariana, he didn’t want her to stick around either. “I’m heading out. Finish your Guinness. Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

Normally, she would have been quick to comment on the fake ID remark. Ariana wasn’t sure just how serious he was, because would he really be serving her if he thought her ID was fake? Maybe he just didn’t give a crap which actually checked out to a degree. The water leaking from the TVs was far more pressing though. She was pretty sure electronics and water didn’t mix, so she took a step back. “TVs,” she answered as she pointed upward. How were they even doing that? She doubted there was any satisfying answer, but slowly scooted away from any electronics. After all she’d been through, she wasn’t about to go out by electrocution of all things. She took a big gulp from her glass of beer because frankly it was warranted with the current level of insanity. So much for having a nice escape from White Crest reality. It hadn’t been all that surprise to see Frank ditch the bar. She laughed a bit and commented, “I don’t blame you. Probably dangerous back there right now anyway.” The jukebox seemed to agree with her so she was glad he was seemingly away from any spots that may cause electrical shock.

While the TV situation was still concerning, Ariana figured she didn’t have much of a reason to stick around with both the game off and Frank gone. Beer alone wasn’t going to be enough to distract her from the whirlwind of emotions she currently didn’t feel like acknowledging. His offer to walk her home was unexpected though. She looked up to him and said, “Yeah, thanks, I’d appreciate that even if I am probably a lot tougher than you think I am.” She jokingly sized him up, but agreed her beer was worth finishing. “For sure gonna finish this bad boy. Can’t be out here wasting a perfectly good beer!” She was quick to polish off her beer. She refrained from burping as she set the glass down because as Celeste taught her growing up, it wasn’t proper table manners. Not that she truly understood why table manners were a thing humans cared about, but for the sake of blending in, she did her best to follow some sort of norm. “So we adding bodyguard to your business card now,” she joked as they left the now nightmarish scene behind. Thankfully, everyone else had also been quick to bolt, so she wasn’t too concerned for their safety. Every so often, a creepy face would flash on the screen and she muttered, “Wow, I fucking hate that.” She pointed down the block and said, “I live this way, not too far away and surprisingly decent rent. Not sure if you know the area well or not, but it really is a steal.”

“I am sure that you are.” Frank’s lips twitched as a genesis of a smile began to take shape across his mouth, one that came very close to becoming fully formed, until he too saw the ghostly face that haunted the TV screens. Fuck. That. Many of the pub’s patrons shared the same sentiment and a steady stream of people trickled out behind them, and for the first time (and hopefully the last) Frank was glad that he had the evening shift at Soul that day. A snort escaped his guard, harsh and full, a gleam of something mirthful reflected in his eyes as he turned them toward Ariana. “Depends on how much you’re willing to pay me,” he said and was only half joking. Bartending doesn’t pay a great deal, and there were many artefacts in his piece of crap apartment, including the piece of crap apartment itself, that would attest to this. The Bend wasn’t exactly known for its New England style living, but then again, neither was Frank.

“It’s nice.” He mused, quietly observing the shops that lined the streets and the plants and bushes that trimmed the sidewalks. Frank spied what looked like a stray dog toy tangled in the leaves of one of the passing bushes. Raining dog toys. That was normal too. Another thing he had to come to terms with getting used to. Not the fact that that particular thing happened, but the possibility of something similar, and equally strange and outlandish happening again. “I never really took the time to take in the streets. I mostly just come in for work, and then go to Soul and then go home. But this street, this place, I can see you living in it.” In the same weird way that you can somehow just sense that someone does not belong in a certain place, you can also sense when someone else belonged exactly where they were-- the latter was usually a lot more pleasant to observe. Walking next to Ariana, in the street she lived, Frank came to the conclusion that she looked like she was exactly where she needed to be; a place bustling with life, and events, and possibilities...even if it was a little strange. “It’s nice.”

Ariana noted the almost smile that Frank made though she didn’t comment on it. He was seemingly gruff, but she was pretty sure he enjoyed her company. Well, at least more so than the rest of the bar’s patrons. Which was fair, she was way cooler and far more adorable. As they walked, she laughed a bit at the mention of paying him. “Thankfully, I don’t need my own bodyguard, not that I could afford one. As it turns out, coaching kids’ soccer a few times a week doesn’t pay enough for a glamorous lifestyle. Not that I want one, but building a cabin one day would still be nice. If my woodworking really takes off, I may have a job for you.” They rounded a corner and something about the sky felt off. She ignored it and added, “I should warn, I’m good at finding trouble.” To be fair to herself, trouble often found her based on her species alone, but she definitely had a knack for following her nose right into some sort of White Crest nonsense.

It surprised Ariana that Frank hadn’t done much exploring the streets yet. While the more populated parts of town weren’t necessarily her thing, she did know the woods like the back of her hand. Or paw, depending on the day of the month. “Yeah, there’s a lot of good shops and restaurants down here. It’s a good area, I prefer the woods, but it’s nice living across the hall from one of my best friends. So thanks.” She was almost wistful for that cabin in the woods she was supposed to build with Celeste one day. Hell, she even missed the place she helped Ulfric build, but there was a sense of pride that came with having a place of her own. Plus, hiking with her school projects that were often bigger than her was a bit much. She’d been smiling softly when a strange smell hit her nose. She paused in the middle of the sidewalk and looked in the direction her nose was picking up a more animalistic smell. Before it could even register fully in her mind, a raging moose was charging them. “Shit,” she yelled out and pushed Frank out of the way as she barely dodged getting impaled by a fucking antler. “What the fuck,” she grumbled as she regained her balance and stared the moose down, letting out a low growl.

“Me too.” Frank’s smile hiked a little higher, and there was something knowing about it, like sharing in a secret that they both had, even if it was from each other. Though he did not necessarily indulge in the more cursed aspects of his existence, he always found that it was better to take it with good humour lest he drowns himself in self-pity; the latter being a significantly worse reality.

Frank spent the rest of their walk quietly observing the younger girl, his eyes squinted in a mixture of easy amusement and sharp curiosity. She spoke, a lot, and he listened, filing away pieces of information that he found useful or interesting: her relationship with the woods, her best friend, woodwork, how the three worked together to form an idyllic picture of the life Ariana wanted for herself. The pieces of information that went untold, fueled by a detailed history, alive and well as evidence in how she spoke. It made him wistful for a future that he never imagined for himself (he never tried to), and wanted dearly for her to have—her sudden stop elicited the same reaction in him, though it was obvious that she was sensing something that he wasn’t. Something he couldn’t. He heard the rumbling of hooves on pavement before he saw it, and even then he saw very little as a force, and a very impressive one at that, pushed him out of harm’s way, very nearly knocking him off his feet were it not for the swift sweep of his wings slowing gravity just enough for him to recover his balance—the product of instinct rather than any great skill. And then a low growl, unmistakably animal, and too near for comfort. First the ghost child TV, then the moose, now if he was about to get mauled by a fucking wolf Frank was going to lose his shit. Alas, there was just Ariana, and a very angry moose carving its way through the street before disappearing around the corner. No wolves to be seen…and yet. “Ariana, are you okay?” Concern coloured his words and made his touch more gentle as he reached out to examine her for any obvious injury. “Are you hurt?” And then finally, inevitably, “only in this fucking town.”

As she reoriented herself she swore she saw a flicker of wings on Frank. Ariana blinked slowly a few times and realized it must have been a trick of the light. Not that wings would be totally off base in this town, but the rest of their surroundings still felt surreal enough that she wrote it off. There was still a small lingering suspicion that maybe Frank wasn’t quite so human either. She’d have to observe him more carefully. She brushed herself off and answered, “Yeah, I’m fine. More startled than anything.” The moose kept running and rounded a corner. Maybe she should have been more concerned, but she simply didn’t have the energy to chase a moose right now. Not in this form. She figured she could shoot Kaden a text and let animal control deal with the seemingly pissed off moose. She stood still for a moment as he looked her over and kept her demeanor calm despite the internal ‘what the fuck just happened’ vibes she had going on. “I’m not hurt. Did only narrowly dodge becoming a moose kebab, but it be like that I guess,” she said with a slight laugh. “Yeah, that was super on brand for White Crest, but hey, neither of us turned into moose-pops today, so I’ll call it a win.” She was dying to ask about the wings, but she still wasn’t entirely sure of what she saw, so she’d file that one away for later. “To be safe, let’s keep moving in case he decides to come back for round 2.” She paused briefly as she started leading the way to her apartment before she finally caved and noted, “So… you were pretty good at catching your balance there.”

Ariana’s note was like a plunged blade, spearing through the glamour that he has tried so hard to maintain. Did it fall? Did she see? She couldn’t have. Frank’s wings were not little plastic accessories that you found hanging off some rack at some halloween store. They were huge, and not something that usually elicited such a casual response...not that he’s had many experiences to draw from. Yet at her remark, he prompted his face to smooth over any evidence of emotion, trying his best to manufacture the closest imitation to nonchalance. “Oh yeah? Thanks kid,” he said before allowing an edge of gentle humor pushed into the timber of his voice, “I mean I’d be a pretty shoddy bodyguard if I’m tripping over my own damn feet.” This made sense--even if Frank’s history of fighting recorded more losses than wins. “Maybe you should consider getting into the bodyguard business. That’s some arm you’ve got.” Needless to say, had it not been for Ariana’s quick reaction, his day would have gone in a very different, most likely more painful, direction. The reminder beckoned curiosity’s head to surface through the crack’s of his apathy, and despite the strangeness of the TV, the moose, he could not erase from his memory the distinct sound of a dog’s growl.

Curiosity also prompted him to vocalise his next words, but Frank was careful with them, lest he risked sounding insane in a town known for its strangeness. “After that moose, did you, I don’t know, hear anything weird? Like a growl?” Was he suggesting that he heard the moose...growl? Perhaps. But what was the more likely event: the moose growling or Ariana growling? Then again, little ghost girls were crawling out of leaky TVs and only moments ago they were almost ran over by a rampant moose and Frank himself had a literal silver tongue and giant wings stuck to his back, Ariana growling was hardly the strangest thing that happened in that afternoon alone.

“Fair point,” Ariana responded with a laugh. A clumsy bodyguard seemed like more of a hazard than protection. At the mention of having a strong arm, she shrugged. The full moon was quickly approaching so her strength was peaking though even during the new moon she liked to think her athleticism afforded her a bit more in the way of strength. “What can I say? My natural athletic prowess surprises yet again,” she answered with a laugh. It wasn’t entirely a lie and she was tempted to just throw out the fact she was a werewolf. She was almost positive she had seen the briefest glimpse of giant ass wings on his back when he stumbled from her push. It was unlikely he’d have anything against werewolves. She was trying to have a little bit more in the way of tact regarding this kind of thing, but was pretty much failing at that. Would there really be much harm in telling him? As stoic as he was, he seemed to have a soft spot for her. Not that she could blame him. She was adorable and she knew it.

As Ariana started to lead the way toward her apartment again, Frank mentioned the growl and she stopped in her tracks. Of course he heard that. Sometimes her instincts were stronger than her common fucking sense. If she was being honest, it was probably more than sometimes. She sighed and explained, “That wasn’t the moose. You did hear a growl. That was me.” She was already most of the way there to telling him, might as well go for it. “I’m a werewolf, that happens sometimes.” And there it was. Did this give her the ground to ask if she saw wings or would he just think she was crazy? She could probably chalk it up to weird teenaged Twilight daydreams if anything else. She watched Frank carefully, looking for any sign of how he was taking that little bomb.

In summation: little ghost girls were crawling out of leaking TVs, they were almost ran over by a raging moose, flying fishes were a thing, and so was raining dog toys apparently, and Ariana was a werewolf. The truth settled over Frank like a blanket and he was unpanicked and strangely unperturbed, though either would have seemed a more conventional reaction to the news. In fairness, that tends to happen when you have a tongue that is literally silver and giant wings sticking out of your back. She could have told him that she was Irish (considering how often she was at the Irish pub), and his reaction would not have differed greatly from that he had on now: raised brows, mouth slightly parted as if wanting to say something but unsure of what, and a pensiveness had settled over his eyes as he digested this new discovery. “You are…a werewolf.”

The first time Patrick told Frank that he was a fae, and that Frank was one too, he laughed (and then punched him again, but that could also be accredited to several other factors), and though the reality of his situation seemed entirely too impossible to be logical, his father’s explanation was the only one that made sense. Frank didn’t laugh this time, but was instead preoccupied with another thought: why was she volunteering this information? He was suddenly very acutely aware of his wings, and the effort he exerted to keep them hidden—like one who was suddenly very cognizant of their own breathing, and the mechanics of that unconscious process. She did see his wings, was the first thought, followed by a question of whether he minded that she did? Was he comfortable enough to let her know of what he was, as she apparently was with her secret? Was it ever a secret? It wasn’t as if the subject came up in a lot of their conversations to begin with. “A werewolf like…Michael J. Fox, werewolf?”

The news of her being a werewolf didn’t seem to come across as too much of a shock and Ariana was grateful for that. There was definitely some processing happening, but as much was to be expected. At least he wasn’t looking at her like she had five heads or something which meant he most likely believed her. “Yes, I’m a werewolf,” she said quietly. It wasn’t a secret, but shouting it from the rooftops would likely attract hunters that weren’t as understanding as the ones she knew. If she could help it, she’d rather not be a trophy on some asshole’s wall. She wanted to follow that statement with ‘you have wings’ because she was pretty sure she’d gotten a glimpse of them, but if she was wrong, he’d really think she was insane. At the mention of being a Michael J. Fox werewolf, her features contorted in confusion and she paused for a moment. “Wait, what?” Her head tilted as she looked at him in earnest and said, “I have no idea what that means or who Michael J. Fox is. The gist of it is I become wolfy around the full moon, have a good sense of smell and strength, and really like red meat. Oh, and I guess I growl sometimes.”

Well, fuck. There’s nothing quite like making an aged reference to remind you exactly of how old you are. “Michael J. Fox...like, Teen Wolf nineteen-eighty—you know what, don’t worry about it.” Although Ariana’s general description seemed to follow, more or less, the general formula of the werewolf myth Frank was familiar with, the strangest part of all of this was not that she was a werewolf but that he felt no distance between them since the discovery. No unease, or distrust; she was still exactly the Ariana he had come to know. The same Ariana who knew exactly which buttons of his to press, and the right words to say to coax a grin or a chuckle out of him, especially when he least expected it. In fact what he did feel was something more akin to relief. She wasn’t a fae but she wasn’t entirely human either—like him. A small part of Frank was almost envious of her. She was so comfortable with herself, she knew exactly what she was, and unapologetically so. She listed her traits with the familiarity and ease of a cook listing the ingredients of a well-known dish: no judgement, no prejudice, just simple facts. The same could not be said of himself. The subject of his fae heritage had always left a bitter taste in his mouth. One Frank washed down with cheap cigarettes and even cheaper alcohol, finished with a serving of good old fashioned denial. You know, healthy things. “You didn’t have to tell me that you know,” he said, “why did you?”

No one had ever really asked Ariana that question before and it left her a bit curious. Frank definitely did not seemed bothered by her revelation or afraid of her in any way which was good. It wasn’t like she’d ever hurt him. Still, she supposed other people were a bit more tight lipped about their species than she was. The fact of the matter was that she liked Frank and she didn’t believe he’d ever do anything to hurt her. She shrugged as they rounded the corner toward her building and she answered, “I don’t know, it’s not like a big secret or anything. I mean, I don’t like broadcast it for the world to know, but given everything today, I didn’t think you’d be too shocked. Plus, pretty sure you’re not a hunter… not that hunters are automatically bad. I’m friends with a few, but still.” It dawned on her she was growing more curious about what he was so she added, “Plus, you don’t seem too shocked. Do you have like some sort of background with this stuff?”

Frank kept his eyes forward, his expression betrayed little of his thoughts, but he could not deny the sliver of ice that slid down his spine at the mention of the word. Hunters. He didn’t know why that was. He also didn’t know why he started thinking about his father. Didn’t know why the word triggered the image of him to come to the forefront of his mind, and the fear that he saw in his eyes, or perhaps most frightening: the resignation in them. Most faes were immune to things that otherwise proved fatal to humans; difficult to kill if you didn’t know what you were doing, entirely possible if you did. Hunters would. Was that what happened to Patrick? Frank had never cared to ask, and thought little of that night since, until now. Not that hunters were automatically bad, Ariana had assured him. Frank offered her a smile (it looked off, but then again, it was Frank), though he wasn’t particularly eager to go out and test that theory either. He turned his gaze back down, and for a moment their eyes met. She knows. He lets out a sigh, his fingers raked through the side of his beard, unsure of how to put together the words he struggled to say even to himself in front of a mirror. “Er…yeah, you could say something like that. I mean not werewolves, obviously, you’d be the first, but other things.”

While it was still a mystery of how Frank knew all of this, he seemed to take it relatively with stride. At least, he wasn’t any more or less stoic than he normally was. Ariana was still curious to know if her hunch was correct, but he could tell her in his own time. She knew not everyone was as comfortable sharing their species as she was. Or maybe he was human and just didn’t try to make excuses for everything weird that happened in this town. She’d sworn she saw wings for a second there, but with everything else that happened, it was hard to tell. Either way, she offered him a warm smile as they neared her building. “Well, whoever said save the best for last was wrong then,” she joked with a smirk present on her face. She took on a more serious tone and added, “I know a lot of people here who have a bit of something extra, so if you ever find yourself in trouble or anything, let me know. Even if it’s not something you can throw a werewolf at, I usually know who to ask for help.” She stopped outside the front of her building and turned to Frank. With a small gesture, she said, “This is my stop. Keep an eye out for angry moose and let me know you make it home safe, alright?”

The invitation was a door and Ariana had so graciously held it open for him. All warm smiles and not even a glimpse of a shadow to hint judgement or malice or a well to use the knowledge of what he was against him. But Frank’s history shackled his feet and he didn’t move but looked at her with feigned ignorance. He’d as good as closed the door himself and every part of him wondered why. Simply, it was not Ariana he wanted to hide the truth from but himself. So he could play grumpy bartender a little bit longer, supplying banter and alcohol to underage werewolves and deny the responsibility of his supernatural inheritance. It was fucking pathetic, he knew it, and he swallowed the truth with a smile as Ariana was delivered safely to her front door. Although that was perhaps more her doing than his. “I’m not going to ask who or how you know said persons, but I will keep that in mind. Personally, I hope that it never comes to that.” He mirrored the gesture back to her, a reluctant grin cracked across his face in a way only Ariana could force out of him, “yes ma’am. You stay out of trouble kiddo.” Somehow he knew, as soon as he said it, trouble and Ariana were never too far away from each other.

#wickedswriting #encounters of the strange kind #frank #// this was so fun and i love their dynamic #JT also sent me with that last line

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huggybug · 3 years

Text

hopeless - tyson jost

word count: 1.8k words

Nobody ever said dating a professional athlete was going to be easy. You weren't stupid though, you knew it was going to be more complicated than any of your other relationships but you also were never one to back down from a challenge.

“Y/n? Everything okay?” Your head snapped up from where you were looking down at your phone to see your friends all staring at you.

“I- uh yeah” You couldn't process anything when that picture was still pulled up on your phone. An NHL gossip profile posted it. You had no idea where it came from but it was very obvious what it was. There was Tyson, your boyfriend of almost three years, with a blonde girl straddling his lap. Maybe if it was just that picture, you could’ve let it go, pushed it aside as a mistake or a lapse in judgement but no, there were multiple. Pictures of the sitting there and then pictures of him talking to JT and Cale with the girl still wrapped around him. It was more than just a momentary thing, it looked like they spent the entire night together.

Your friends made you show them the photos and you almost started crying when they started making up ‘what if’s’ about the situation. There was no question that something happened. Sure, maybe he didn’t kiss her or have sex with her but you didn’t care. The thought of him being with another girl in positions that were not just friendly, sickened you.

You left the restaurant shortly after, the tears threatening to spill but you held them off until you were safely in your apartment. Yours and Tyson’s apartment. Shit.

Your phone would not stop ringing that night. And judging from the texts he sent, he knew he had been caught. He knew that you’d see the photos. Please call me back. I love you. Are you okay. The texts kept coming, one after the other but you ignored them all. You had half the mind to block him but that seemed a little too extreme.

You spent the rest of the night crying on the couch while eating the cookies you saved for days like these, when you hated everything and Tyson wasn't here to hold you. Except this time, you were glad he wasn't here.

...

The phone ringing loudly echoed through your apartment and woke you up in the morning. Remembering the occurrences from last night, you were tempted to send it to voicemail but you knew this wasn’t something you could avoid forever. So you rolled over and searched for your phone in your pile of blankets. Tyson’s contact picture was splayed across the screen and your heart ached at his smiley face. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you answered.

“Y/n? Babe where have you been? I’ve been trying to call you all night” Tyson sounded normal, like he wasn't just hanging on to another girl all night.

“How was your night” It wasn’t really a question and you both knew it. You didn’t want to assume the worst (even if you already had) but the tone in your voice was enough for Tyson to know that you knew. Cale sent him the post this morning, the pictures of him and the girl were sickening to look at for him.

“Y/n-” He sighed, what was there to say? He knew that no matter what he said, you wouldn't change your mind on whatever conclusions you’ve already drawn.

“No. Don’t even start to do that Tyson. You don’t get to feel bad now, you made the decision”

“Baby I swear nothing happened” You rolled your eyes.

“Get a better line Tys” This wasn't your first time in this type of situation with a boyfriend. They all said the same thing. ‘Nothing happened!’ ‘She came onto me’ ‘You can trust me’

“I promise Y/n! Ask anyone that was there, I would never do this to you” He was pleading now, desperate for you to hear him out.

“Yeah that's what I thought but then you did it anyway” The tears were flowing again and it broke Tyson to hear how upset you were. He sputtered out a response but you didn’t hear as you pulled your phone away and hung up.

The next couple days were hard. Tyson kept texting and calling but you didn’t answer. It was the first time in years that you didn’t call him before his game. They were in New Jersey so once it was late for you, you weren’t expecting any more calls. Then your phone rang, instead of Tyson’s face filling your screen, it was JT’s.

“JT? Is everything okay?” You didn’t usually talk to the guys when they were on the road. You’d get the odd text from one of them about something stupid Tyson did or a picture of him but you only got calls when it was something serious.

“Yeah yeah don’t worry, look I know its not my place but I feel like I should-” You groaned and he stopped in the middle of his sentence.

“Did Tyson put you up to this?”

“No, he doesn’t even know I called you” You stayed silent. “I know you saw those photos and I know what it looks like but you have to hear him out. I mean, you don’t have to but you should. You know Tys, right? He would never do this to you and I swear if you hear him out, it will make so much more sense”

“I just.. I’ve never been this hurt JT” Maybe venting about this to Tyson’s best friend was a bad idea but you didn’t care in the moment. You were too embarrassed to talk to your friends about it and you definitely could not talk to your family.

“I know and trust me, he’s just as hurt if not worse”

“He’s the one who did this!” You exclaim and JT lets out a grunt.

“Okay, I can’t say anything but please talk to him when we get home. Don’t just disappear like we both know you’re planning on” Damn JT and his stupid knowledge of your tendencies.

“Fine but don’t tell him about this. I need him to tell me because he wants to not because he knows you’ve talked to me already” JT promises before saying goodbye and you’re once again left in your empty apartment with only your thoughts.

...

A thump wakes you up and after a couple more, you realize it’s Tyson. You stay in bed with your eyes closed, wondering what he’ll do when he walks in. You’re facing the door so you can peek just enough to see him walking into the room and setting his bags down by the closet. He looks at you on the bed and stands there for a minute before heading into the bathroom to get ready for bed. When he comes out a couple minutes later, he turns to walk out the door.

“Tyson?” You sit up and he jumps, clearly startled after thinking you were asleep.

“Jeez have you been awake this whole time?”

“Where are you going?” You ignore his question.

“To the guest room. I didn’t know...” He trailed off and you felt the heavy weight settling back down onto your chest.

“Can we talk?” It was late. Probably too late to be having this conversation but you won't be able to sleep knowing he’s in the apartment and not sleeping next to you.

“Yeah” He comes back to sit on his side of the bed. “Y/n-”

“No- I mean, can I just talk first?” Tyson nodded and motioned for you to go ahead. “I may have overreacted. That doesn’t mean I’m not mad but ignoring you was childish and I know I shouldn’t have. It wasn’t fair to you or the relationship we built between us.” Tyson took a minute to soak in your words before even beginning to think of a response.

“I’m so sorry for hurting you. I need you to know I never ever wanted that” He was being honest, you could feel the sincerity in his words but you weren’t sure if it was enough.

“I’ve never felt like that before Tyson. It was like my heart just stopped when I saw those pictures. I loved you, I trusted you” You shook your head, trying to combat the tears that were surely coming.

“I’m sorry Y/n” Tyson chanted like it was his newest mantra.

“What happened that night?” You didn’t want to hear it but you knew there was no chance for your future if you were left questioning it. You listened as Tyson detailed the night, how the girl approached him and he was drunk but he didn’t exactly turn her away. He said that she got closer as the night went on but it was all a bit fuzzy. One thing he knew for certain was that he didn’t kiss her. That was something you were grateful for.

“…That’s all. I want to be clear that I understand if you’re upset because you have every reason to but I need you to know I’m willing to do anything to make it up to you” His words were a lot to take in and you thought about it before even beginning to respond.

“I love you Tys but I need to time before we’re totally back to normal” Tyson was just glad you were back to using a nickname instead of his full name.

“But we’re good? I mean like-” He started sputtering but you cut him off with a little chuckle.

“We’re good Tys, now come to bed it’s late” You open your arms for him and he all but pounces into bed next to you. It was nice to be in his arms and you knew nothing in this world would ever change that.

Maybe you were giving in too easily, that’s what the instagram haters would say. Maybe you should’ve made a break for it while he was still away, moved out of your apartment and leave this behind you for good. But it was never that easy when you thought about it in perspective. When you love someone with your entire heart, you don’t want to leave just like that, you can’t. Tyson has total control over you and your heart and while that might be dangerous, you wouldn’t want it any other way.

And maybe in a few years when you ultimately break up, you’ll think back to this day, wishing you would have just left but that’s what they say right? Hindsight is 20/20 vision or whatever.

Or you’ll look back when you’re happily married with a couple kids and be grateful for your forgiveness towards the man you love.

Right now, all you know is how you feel and that is safe. As soon as Tyson got home, your worries flew out the window because he had the power to do that. You were hopeless in the hands of Tyson Jost but who was to say that was a bad thing?

#tyson jost imagine #tyson jost fic #tyson jost x reader #colorado avalanche #minnesota wild #hockey writing #hockey fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl players

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sharkneto · 3 years

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you reblogged that ask thing... exactly 12 hours ago as i type this (to the minute lmao) but if you're still doing them, 11, 18, ...... 25 :3

11) what aspect of your writing do you think has most improved since you started writing?

Honestly? Fucking punctuation (although I still do a lot of weird things with commas. they feel like they should be everywhere but that is not true). Especially around dialogue. That's the boring answer. The slightly less boring answer is just flow (which I guess also goes with punctuation still). But better word choice, better phrasing with those words - my earlier stuff reads a bit choppy, imo. I feel it even just in Holding It Together, despite the entire second-draft rewrite it got, between the early chapters (that I first wrote over a year ago) and the last couple chapters (that I wrote a couple months ago).

18) were there any works you read that affected you so much that it influenced your writing style? what were they?

oh most definitely but this requires me to have a memory for things like this. i've definitely read real books before and they have definitely influenced me but i'm... drawing a complete blank this is actually embarrassing. rip

25) copy/paste a few sentences or a short paragraph that you’re particularly proud of

what, the snips i send you just aren't enough??? here, one i'm pretty sure i haven't sent to you before, from later in JT -- The room bursts into applause as Rothstein finishes. It is brilliant work; Sarah can’t wait to get his paper next month and start really tearing through it. If he’s right, his new function could solve some of the largest holes they have in understanding temporal relations to how they experience it.

As the crowd quiets again, a moderator steps on stage and gestures to the aisles. “We have two microphones set up for questions, so if you wouldn’t mind forming two orderly lines and we will alternate between the two. Time permitting, Dr. Rothstein has indicated he’s happy to stay and answer any questions you all may have about his new equation and the implications it has on future work.”

People start shifting, shuffling past one another to file to the microphones. Five stands.

Oh, fuck. Sarah darts a hand out to catch his arm. “Five, this is not the time to force a fight.”

“I’m not,” he says, setting his jaw.

“Five.”

“I’m not,” he insists. “He’s stupid and wrong and I’m going to save us all time.”

“Fi—” He’s gone. Her hand closes on empty air as he disappears. She catches the flash out of the corner of her eye as he reappears at one of the microphones, cutting off the first person just reaching it. The woman is so shocked by Five’s sudden appearance that she doesn’t even berate him for skipping. There’s a small wave of awe in the vicinity as the physicists all marvel at Five’s use of his power.

The moderator waits for another minute, allowing everyone who wants to time to make it to the question lines, before he calls, “Alright, why don’t we start with the line on the right, if you want to introduce yourself and where yo—”

“I have a question,” Five interrupts, mouth close to the mic and voice booming out too loud from the speakers.

The moderator frowns. “Ah, yes, many people do. We’re starting with the other line and then you’ll be next, just be patient.”

“I’m going to start, actually,” Five says. The crowd shifts. Sarah can feel nearby attendees shooting her judging looks. Yes, she knows that’s her undergrad blatantly disregarding all conference etiquette. If any of them have ideas for how to stop a teleporter from doing whatever he wants, she is all ears.

“It’s alright,” Rothstein says. “He obviously thinks his question is important. Where are you from?”

“Right,” Five says. “I’m Number Five Hargreeves. Undergrad at the University of Minnesota in Dr. Sarah Walters lab working on the physical relativity functions between time and space.”

Rothstein shares an exaggerated, indulgent smile with the crowd, many of whom are craning their necks to get a better look at Five. “An undergrad? Well, I have to applaud your enthusiasm and confidence, at the very least. And what question is so important that it just has to be the first one I answer?”

“How do you go back?”

Rothstein blinks. Sarah frowns.

“I don’t follow your question?” Rothstein says.

Five smiles and Sarah knows that one – Rothstein just did exactly what Five wanted, has walked straight into some logic trap and is about to look like a complete idiot in front of the hundreds of physicists in the room (if Five is right, which he usually is). “How do you go back?” Five asks again, simply. “The equation you have presented for movement through time is clever. It's elegant and I think it would genuinely work for forward movement, even if it's not the most efficient model. But how do you account for the added viscosity and established temporal markers in moving back?”

Megan shoots Sarah a wide-eyed look. Sarah is frozen, staring at Five.

#snips #ficblogging #ask game #joining together #long post

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path-of-my-childhood · 4 years

Text

Aaron Dessner on How His Collaborative Chemistry With Taylor Swift Led to “Evermore”

By: Claire Shaffer for Rolling Stone Date: December 18th 2020

Taylor Swift and Aaron Dessner didn’t expect to make another record so soon after Folklore. As they were putting the final touches on Swift’s album this past summer, the two artists had been collaborating remotely on possible songs for Big Red Machine, Dessner’s music project with Justin Vernon of Bon Iver (who also dueted with Swift on the Folklore track “Exile”). Dessner recalls:

“I think I’d written around 30 of those instrumentals in total. So when I started sharing them with Taylor over the months that we were working on Folklore, she got really into it, and she wrote two songs to some of that music.”

One was “Closure,” an experimental electronic track in 5/4 time signature that was built over a staccato drum kit. The other song was “Dorothea,” a rollicking, Americana piano tune. The more Dessner listened to them, the more he realized that they were continuations of Folklore‘s characters and stories. But the real turning point came soon after Folklore‘s surprise release in late July, when Dessner wrote a musical sketch and named it “Westerly,” after the town in Rhode Island where Swift owns the house previously occupied by Rebekah Harkness.

“I didn’t really think she would write something to it — sometimes I’ll name songs after my friends’ hometowns or their babies, just because I write a lot of music and you have to call it something, and then I’ll send it to them. But, anyway, I sent it to her, and not long after she wrote ‘Willow’ to that song and sent it back.”

It was a moment not unlike when Swift first sent him the song “Cardigan” back in the spring, where both she and Dessner felt an instant creative spark — and then just kept writing. Before long, they were creating even more songs with Vernon, Jack Antonoff, Dessner’s brother Bryce, and “William Bowery” (the pseudonym of Swift’s boyfriend Joe Alwyn) for what would eventually lead to Folklore‘s wintry sister record, Evermore.

Even more spontaneous than the album that preceded it, Evermore features more eclectic production alongside Swift’s continued project of character-driven songwriting, and includes an even wider group of collaborators, like Haim and Dessner’s own band the National. Dessner spoke to Rolling Stone about the album’s experimentation, how it was recorded during the making of the doc The Long Pond Studio Sessions, and how he sees his collaboration with Swift continuing in the future.

When did you realize this was going to end up being another album?

It was after we’d written several songs, seven or eight or nine. Each one would happen, and we would both be in this sort of disbelief of this weird alchemy that we had unleashed. The ideas were coming fast and furiously and were just as compelling as anything on Folklore, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. At some point, Taylor wrote “Evermore” with William Bowery, and then we sent it to Justin, who wrote the bridge, and all of a sudden, that’s when it started to become clear that there was a sister record. Historically, there are examples of this, of records which came in close succession that I love — certain Dylan records, Kid A and Amnesiac. I secretly fell in love with the idea that this was part of the same current, and that these were two manifestations that were interrelated. And with Taylor, I think it just became clear to her what was happening. It really picked up steam, and at some point, there were 17 songs — because there are two bonus tracks, which I love just as much.

Evermore definitely sounds more experimental than Folklore, and has more variety — you have these electronic songs that sound like Bon Iver or Big Red Machine, but you also have the closest thing Taylor has written to country songs in the last decade. Was there a conscious effort on her part to branch out more with this album?

Sonically, the ideas were coming from me more. But I remember when I wrote the piano track to “Tolerate It,” right before I sent it to her, I thought, This song is intense. It’s in 10/8, which is an odd time signature. And I did think for a second, “Maybe I shouldn’t send it to her, she won’t be into it.” But I sent it to her, and it conjured a scene in her mind, and she wrote this crushingly beautiful song to it and sent it back. I think I cried when I first heard it. But it just felt like the most natural thing, you know? There weren’t limitations to the process. And in these places where we were pushing into more experimental sounds or odd time signatures, that just felt like part of the work.

It was really impressive to me that she could tell these stories as easily in something like “Closure” as she could in a country song like “Cowboy Like Me.” Obviously, “Cowboy Like Me” is much more familiar, musically. But to me, she’s just as sharp and just as masterful in her craft in either of those situations. And also, just in terms of what we were interested in, there is a wintry nostalgia to a lot of the music that was intentional on my part. I was leaning into the idea that this was fall and winter, and she’s talked about that as well, that Folklore feels like spring and summer to her and Evermore is fall and winter. So that’s why you hear sleigh bells on “Ivy,” or why some of the imagery in the songs is wintery.

I can hear that in the guitar on “‘Tis the Damn Season,” too. It almost sounds like the National with that very icy guitar line.

I mean, that is literally like, me in my most natural state. [laughs] If you hand me a guitar, that’s what it sounds like when I start playing it. People associate that sound with the National, but that’s just because I finger-pick an electric guitar like that a lot — if you solo the guitar on “Mr. November,” it’s not unlike that.

That song, to me, has always felt nostalgic or like some sort of longing. And the song that Taylor wrote is so instantly relatable, you know, “There’s an ache in you put there by the ache in me.” I remember when she sang that to me in my kitchen — she had written it overnight during The Long Pond Studio Sessions, actually.

Did she record all her Evermore vocals at Long Pond while you were filming the Studio Sessions documentary?

Not all of them, but most of them. She stayed after we were done filming and then we recorded a lot. It was crazy because we were getting ready to make that film, but at the same time, these songs were accumulating. And so we thought, “Hmm, I guess we should just stay and work.”

On “Closure,” there are parts where Taylor’s vocals are filtered through the Messina, which is this vocal modifier that Justin Vernon uses a lot in his work with Bon Iver. How were you able to modify her vocals with it, if she was never in the same room as Justin?

I went to see Justin at one point — that’s the one trip I’ve made — and we worked together at his place on stuff. He plays the drums on “Cowboy Like Me” and “Closure,” and he plays guitar and banjo and sings on “Ivy,” and sings on “Marjorie” and “Evermore.” And then we processed Taylor’s vocals through his Messina chain together. He was really deeply involved in this record, even more so than the last record. He’s always been such a huge help to me, and not just by getting him to play stuff or sing stuff — I can also send him things and get his feedback. We’ve done a ton of work together, but we have different perspectives and different harmonic brains. He obviously has his own studio set up at home, but it was nice to be able to see him and work on this stuff.

“No Body, No Crime” is also really interesting, just because I don’t think I’ve ever heard you produce a song like that. How did this country murder ballad featuring Haim end up on the record?

Taylor wrote that one alone and sent me a voice memo of her playing guitar — she wrote it on this rubber-bridge guitar that I got for her. It’s the same kind I play on “Invisible String.” So she wrote “No Body, No Crime” and sent me a voice memo of it, and then I started building on that. It’s funny, because the music I’ve listened to the most in my life are things that are more like that — roots music, folk music, country music, old-school rock & roll, the Grateful Dead. It’s not really the sound of the National or other things I’ve done, but it feels like a warm blanket.

That song also had a lot of my friends on it — Josh Kaufman, who played harmonica on “Betty,” also plays harmonica on this one and some guitar. JT Bates plays the drums on that song — he’s an amazing jazz guitarist, but he also has an incredible feel [for rhythm] when it comes to a song like that. He also played the drums on “Dorothea.” And then Taylor had specific ideas from the beginning about references and how she wanted it to feel, and that she wanted the Haim sisters to sing on it. We had them record the song with Ariel Reichshaid, they sent that from L.A., and then we put it together when Taylor was here [at Long Pond]. They’re an incredible band, and it was another situation where we were like, “Well, this happened.” It felt like this weird little rock & roll history anecdote.

You also brought on the National to record “Coney Island.” What was that process like, where you’re recording a song with your band that’s for a different artist?

I had been working on a bunch of music with my brother [Bryce Dessner], some of which we were sending to Taylor also. At that stage, “Coney Island” was all the music except the drums. And as I was writing it, I don’t think I was ever thinking, “This sounds like the National or this sounds like Big Red Machine or this sounds like something totally different.” But Taylor and William Bowery wrote this incredible song, and we first recorded it with just her vocals. It has this really beautiful arc to the story, and I think it’s one of the strongest, lyrically and musically. But listening to the words, we all collectively realized that this does feel like the most related to the National — it almost feels like a story Matt [Berninger] might tell, or I could hear Bryan [Devendorf] playing the drum part.

So we started talking about how it would be cool to get the band, and I called Matt and he was excited for it. We got Bryan to play drums and we got Scott [Devendorf] to play bass and a pocket piano, and Bryce helped produce it. It’s weird, because it does really feel like Taylor, obviously, since she and William Bowery wrote all the words, but it also feels like a National song in a good way. I love how Matt and Taylor sound together. And it was nice because we haven’t played a show in a year, and I don’t know when we will again. You kind of lose track of each other, so in a way, it was nice to reconnect.

When working on Folklore, you had to keep most of your collaborators in the dark about who you were working with. What was the process like this time around, now that everyone knew it was Taylor? How did you keep it a secret?

It was hard. We had to be secretive because of how much people are consuming every shred of information they can find about her, and that’s been an oppressive reality she’s had to deal with. But the fact that no one in the public knew allowed for more freedom of enjoying the process. A lot of the same musicians that played on Folklore played on Evermore. Again, it was a situation where I didn’t tell them what it was, and they couldn’t hear her vocals, but I think a lot of them assumed, especially because of the level of secrecy. [laughs] But as funny as this is, I think everyone who’s been involved has been grateful for these records to play on this year and is proud of them. It kind of just doesn’t happen, to make two great records in such a short period of time. Everyone’s a little bit like, “How did this happen?” and nobody takes it for granted.

Taylor has mentioned that you recorded “Happiness” just a week before the album was released. Was that something you guys wrote, recorded, and produced all at the last minute, or was it something you’d been sitting on for a while before you finally cracked the code?

There were two songs like that. One is a bonus track called “Right Where You Left Me,” and the other one was “Happiness,” which she wrote literally days before we were supposed to master. That’s similar to what happened with Folklore, with “The 1” and “Hoax,” which she wrote days before. We mixed all the tracks here, and it’s a lot to mix 17 songs, it’s like a Herculean task. And it was funny, because I walked into the studio and Jon Low, our engineer here, was mixing and had been working the whole time toward this. And I came in and he’s in the middle of mixing and I was like, “There are two more songs.” And he looked at me like, “…We’re not gonna make it.” Because it does take a lot of time to work out how to finish them.

But she sang those remotely. And the music for “Happiness” is something that I had been working on since last year. I had sang a little bit on it, too — I thought it was a Big Red Machine song, but then she loved the instrumental and ended up writing to it. Same with the other one, “Right Where You Left Me” — it was something I had written right before I went to visit Justin, because I thought, “Maybe we’ll make something when we’re together there.” And Taylor had heard that and wrote this amazing song to it. That is a little bit how she works — she writes a lot of songs, and then at the very end she sometimes writes one or two more, and they often are important ones.

My favorite song on the album is “Marjorie,” and I feel like, for most artists, the instinct would be to present a song like that as a somber piano ballad. But “Marjorie” has this lively electronic beat that runs through it — it literally sounds alive. How did you come up with that?

It’s interesting, because with “Marjorie,” that’s a track that actually existed for a while, and you can hear elements of it behind the song “Peace.” This weird drone that you hear on “Peace,” if you pay attention to the bridge of “Marjorie,” you’ll hear a little bit of that in the distance. Some of what you hear is from my friend Jason Treuting playing percussion, playing these chord sticks, that he actually made for a piece that my brother wrote called “Music for Wooden Strings.” They’re playing these chord sticks, and you can hear those same chord sticks on the National song “Quiet Light.”

I collect a lot of rhythmic elements like that, and all kinds of other sounds, and I give them to my friend Ryan Olson, who’s a producer from Minnesota and has been developing this crazy software called Allovers Hi-Hat Generator. It can take sounds, any sounds, and split them into identifiable sound samples, and then regenerate them in randomized patterns that are weirdly very musical. There’s a lot of new Big Red Machine songs that use those elements. But I’ll go through it and find little parts that I like and loop them. That’s how I made the backing rhythm of “Marjorie.” Then I wrote a song to it, and Taylor wrote to that. In a weird way, it’s one of the most experimental songs on the album — it doesn’t sound that way, but when you pick apart the layers underneath it, it’s pretty interesting.

I do have to ask: How did you come to find out about William Bowery’s real identity as Joe Alwyn? Or did you know all along?

I guess I can say now that I’ve sort of known all along — I was just being careful. Although we never really explicitly talked about it. But I do think it’s been really special to see a number of songs on these albums that they wrote together. William plays the piano on “Evermore,” actually. We recorded that remotely. That was really important to me and to them, to do that, because he also wrote the piano part of “Exile,” but on the record, it’s me playing it because we couldn’t record him easily. But this time, we could. I just think it’s an important and special part of the story.

Do you have a personal favorite song or a moment that you’re proudest of?

“‘Tis the Damn Season” is a really special song to me for a number of reasons. When I wrote the music to it, which was a long time ago, I remember thinking that this is one of my favorite things I’ve ever made, even though it’s an incredibly simple musical sketch. But it has this arc to it, and there’s this simplicity in the minimalism of it and the kind of drum programming in there, and I always loved the tone of that guitar. When Taylor played the track and sang it to me in my kitchen, that was a highlight of this whole time. That track felt like something I have always loved and could have just stayed music, but instead, someone of her incredible storytelling ability and musical ability took it and made something much greater. And it’s something that we can all relate to. It was a really special moment, not unlike how it felt when she wrote “Peace,” but even more so.

Do you see this collaboration with Taylor continuing onward, to more albums or Big Red Machine projects?

It’s kind of the thing where I have so many musicians in my life that I’ve grown close to, and make things with, and are just part of my life. And I’ve rarely had this kind of chemistry with anyone in my life — to be able to write together, to make so many beautiful songs together in such a short period of time. Inevitably, I think we will continue to be in each other’s artistic and personal lives. I don’t know exactly what the next form that will take, but certainly, it will continue.

I do think this story, this era, has concluded, and I think in such a beautiful way with these sister records — it does kind of feel like there’s closure to that. But she’s definitely been very helpful and engaged with Big Red Machine, and just in general. She feels like another incredible musician that I’ve gotten to know and am lucky to have in my life. It’s this whole community that moves forward and takes risks and, hopefully, there will be other records that appear in the future.

#cute #Aaron Dessner #interview #about taylor #taylor swift #Rolling Stone magazine #making of #evermore album #evermore era

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fandompitfalls · 3 years

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Prodigal Son and why Living Shouldn't Be Controversial

Originally posted 1/27/2021

After my last post I wasn’t sure what I would write about. Several of my upcoming posts are research intensive and potentially controversial so as far as I’ve gotten on them was to put them in my book for blog post ideas and that’s about it.

And then Season Two of Prodigal Son aired. So what am I doing? A research (not so intensive) and potentially controversial post. At least I’m on brand.

For those who don’t really know the show: In its second season Prodigal Son is the story of ex-FBI profiler Malcolm Bright who was fired for his risk-taking habits and came back to the NYPD at the request of Captain Gil Arroyo. Malcolm Bright is also Malcolm Whitly, the son of the influential and extremely wealthy Whitley family. The Patriarch of the Whitly family, Dr. Martin Whitly, a convicted serial killer known as “the Surgeon”, is currently in a secure psychiatric facility. His son Malcolm put him there. Malcolm now works for the NYPD under Gil’s team that includes Detectives JT Tarmel, and Detective Dani Powell and Medical Examiner Edrisa Tanaka. While not solving crimes, Malcom must deal with his tenacious television reporter sister Ainsley Whitly and their wealthy, hovering mother Jessica Whitly. As well as his father who is trying to make his way back into his family’s life via Malcolm by assisting via telephone with certain cases.

Except for the Whitly’s (who while wealthy are probably not very good role models), the entire main cast is made up of people of color: Filipino, Black, Asian. While the first season was introductions to everyone and dealing with Malcolm’s lost memories regarding his father, the father/ son dynamic, cultivating a loyal fanbase and potentially starting some ships both purposefully and accidentally (I’m looking at you Brightwell and Maldrisa shippers), this second season started off with a bang. Something that might have been relegated to a side plot, I feel, had become larger than this season’s overarching plot and will end up and absolutely deserved to be in equal standing.

In the first season, we are introduced to JT, the by the book detective who doesn’t like Bright in the beginning but by the end of the first season, they’re…okay. We also meet JT frankly adorable wife Tally and discover that he’s going to be a dad.

In season two, months have passed, and JT is acting Captain while Gil is out on medical leave. He brings Bright in on a case involving a justice killer. At the end while back up is being sent to Bright’s apartment for the final conflict, Dani rushes up while backup is on its way and JT is right behind her. He arrives moments before the back up and when they arrive, he directs them up to the apartment. What happens instead is something we’ve all seen on the news this past summer. The first cop that arrives tackles JT and presses him against the wall, baton at his throat telling him to stop resisting. The terror in JT’s eyes is startling as he realized that these officers, the one holding him and the other five who have their guns trained on him are not going to let him explain that he’s a cop. It isn’t until Dani runs out holding her badge and Malcom following close behind, both of them yelling to stand down, that he’s a cop does the office let go of JT and step back. Back at the station, Gil is furious and wants to take it to I.A., but JT insists it won’t do any good and he needs to think about it. He has a family now and he doesn’t want the retaliation. The scene ends with Gil, Dani and Bright supporting his decision and telling him they have his back. JT is emotional and for good reason. The people who are supposed to be working with him just tried to kill him.

Episode two didn’t let up; in the middle of a chase, Gil tells JT to call for back up and what happens is enraging. As JT calls on his police issued walkie for backup, the person manning the other end tells him that the line if for police use only and uses the term “boy” before disconnecting. Later, it shows JT and Dani standing outside the office watching Gil yell at the dispatch for not sending officers for a potential hostile situation. JT decides to not file a report mentioning that he has a family to worry about and he must work with these people. It is harassment and emotional terrorism at its worst.

In the first episode this season, Dani and Bright are talking and Dani mentions the institutionalized racism she’s been dealing with. With this show being categorized as a police procedural, showing this sort of dangerous institutional racism within the police force is both tricky and important. While police shows have mentioned an episode or two of racism within the force, it’s usually an episode and the one bad cop is taken to task by the white Captain and the entire thing is brushed over. The good thing about this show is so far, all the people in power we’ve seen on the force have been people of color. It also makes it harder to pull the “white savior” role as Bright, while on the team, has no real standing with the NYPD and could be kicked off cases in a heartbeat. Jessica, with all of her wealth and ties (or not, make up your mind Jess) to Gil, can’t really do anything expect throw money at the issue. The brunt of the conflict will lie between Gil and his team facing the police force including these cops who “are just doing their job” and the veil of secrecy that lies within the Thin Blue Line. It’s not something that can be erased in a five-episode arc and I really hope it’s not. The racism within the department has been established, it can’t be erased with the firing of the cop who attacked JT and it can’t be addressed with the Commissioner coming in to make everyone go to training to make it all magically go away.

The showrunners spent the entire first season introducing us and making us love these characters and given the current climate of the world, this was a bold and correct decision, one that needed to be addressed. I know there is talk on message board stating that this season is too “political”. Black Lives Matter, is not political, institutionalized racism within the police force is not political. Men and women of color that are on police forces are risking their lives to do good and make streets safer and do not deserve to wonder if they’re going to take “friendly” fire from one of their own. This year we’ve heard too many stories of officers who were threatened out of uniform and officers who spoke up only to be removed from duty. This isn’t a new thing. Nobody should be murdered for living their lives, for sleeping, for complying with proper police requests.

Personally, as a white person, watching these scenes hurt. Watching JT’s reactions hurt. Hearing someone who was supposed to have his back use a term that has racist undertones when said as it was, made me furious. Which is what it’s supposed to do. But this is also a dangerous road the showrunners are taking. There is no clean and easy way out of this, to have it discussed and “fixed” isn’t reasonable nor believable anymore, to ignore it after three episodes isn’t doing it justice. I don’t know how this will turn out, but it absolutely needs to be addressed this season. To the extent of having it a plot equal to Malcom’s covering up a murder and hiding the body without getting caught.

If you want more information or want to get involved, please look at the websites linked. It shouldn’t take a television show to spread awareness, but if it does, so much the better. People are starting to get involved with activism because media and it’s good (sometimes). Television should start a conversation, that’s when it’s working best.

#FPBlog #Prodigal Son #racial tension #televison #blog

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pucksnsticksnhockeyboys · 4 years

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summertime mindset - pt. 6

stargazing & sexile

masterlist for summertime mindset

Timing is hard to get right and summer doesn’t last forever. You and Tyson learn the hard way.

word count: 1.9k

note from the writer: enjoy darlings this is really soft and lowkey a filler.

SUMMERTIME

You loved your family, you really, truly, did. But you were also twenty and being trapped under the same roof as them when you were used to having the freedom of your dorm and friends’ apartments while at college made everything feel a bit too suffocating.

It was late at night, and you were lamenting this to Tyson while you were curled up in bed and he was at his own house. You were about ready to give up and try to go to sleep, but then Tyson sent you a text and told you to meet him out front.

You tugged on a sweatshirt and exchanged your sleep shorts for leggings, slipping into your shoes before sneaking down and out of the house. Tyson was already waiting for you at the end of the driveway in his car, and he waved you over with his trademark grin.

“Where are we going?” You asked, though not knowing wasn’t stopping you from opening the passenger door and sliding inside. Tyson met you halfway over the center console for a kiss before he let you buckle up and he shifted the car into gear.

“It’s a surprise.” You chuckled at him, shaking your head in mirth. Turning in your seat, you admired how he looked in the low light.

“You expect me to just get in a car with you without knowing where you’re taking me? At eleven at night?” You teased, and it was his turn to shake his head.

“We’re going for a drive, you said you had to get out of the house.” Tyson explained. Your heart soared at the gesture, and if you weren’t constricted by the seat belt and conscious of Tyson’s less than perfect driving skills you would have leaned over and given him a kiss. Instead, you pecked his shoulder before unplugging his phone from the aux and playing your music. It was a rule between the two of you, passenger picks music. Still, he playfully scoffed as he watched you.

“Oh please, you kidnap me, I get to choose the music.” You huffed with a smile. Tyson chuckled, reaching over to thread his fingers with yours and set your conjoined hands on your thigh. You tugged, bringing his hand to your lips so you could kiss the back of his before leaning back into your seat.

This was undoubtedly one of your favorite moments of the summer so far. The windows were cracked and though it was night, the air that was blowing into the car was nice and cooled your skin that had been warmed from being in the sun all day. Your music was quietly playing and perfectly suited for the atmosphere of a late-night drive with Tyson.

He was your favorite part of the whole scenario, no contest. He was singing under his breath as he drove through the streets, occasionally stealing glances at you with a softness in his eyes that had you melting even more so into your seat. You were so distracted by him that you didn’t even realize he had driven to an open field until the car was in park.

When you shot him a confused look, he simply shrugged his shoulders and squeezed your hand before climbing out of the car. You followed his actions, your confusion only growing when he opened the back of the car and pulled out a picnic blanket and what looked suspiciously like the comforter off of his bed. It was only once he laid the picnic blanket down and laid down that you realized that he was taking you stargazing.

As soon as you laid down beside him he started to pull the comforter over both of your legs, only pausing to focus on the sweet kiss you gave him. You both pulled away grinning like fools, and there was a fondness in his eyes that you had never seen before that had you leaning in for another peck.

“Surprise.” He teased, laying back and folding one hand behind his head and the other moving around you to pull you into his side. You chuckled, snuggling into his side as your gaze studied the stars above you.

The view in the sky was beautiful, but the man lying beside you, running his fingers up and down your arm absentmindedly, was stunning.

PRESENT

You should have expected it, really, when your roommate texted you and said not to come back to the apartment for a while since she was having some guy over. The text had come in the middle of you getting dinner with some coworkers, so you were doing the most to stall going back.

Which was how you found yourself sitting in your car in your building’s parking garage, Tyson’s contact pulled up and the number about to be dialed.

You had tried to get a hold of Jon, you had made up since he stormed out of your apartment, but he wasn’t answering, and you really just needed to see if someone was willing to hangout. When you finally dialed Tyson’s number, it didn’t take long for him to pick up.

“Hey, what’s up?” His voice was cheerful, and you could hear people in the background of his line, but they were growing fainter, so you assumed that he was going somewhere quieter.

“Nothing really, I was just calling you to see if you were busy.” From the noises on the other end of the line, you knew he was doing something, but that didn’t stop you from being hopeful. “I’m sexiled from my apartment for the foreseeable future.”

“I mean, I’m just having dinner at Gabe’s and I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you came over.” You bit your lip at the offer, but as much as you wanted to take him up on it, it wasn’t his place to invite you over. You had met the captain and his wife a few times, and you really liked them, but you were in no way close enough to just show up at their house and crash a dinner party.

“I don’t want to intrude.” You replied, shaking your head despite the fact that he couldn’t see you. There was some shuffling on his end of the line, and you heard the people talking in the background get louder. Someone, JT, you think, asked who Tyson was on the phone with and he responded with your name.

“Landy come tell her she wouldn’t be intruding if she came over!” He yelled into the line, loud enough to have you pulling your phone from your ear. There was some more shuffling, and it sounded like a wrestling match for Tyson’s phone. Your suspicions were proven correct when the voice that spoke next decidedly did not belong to your brunette friend.

“I promise you’re invited.” Gabe told you, and you could just picture the shit eating grin he was most likely wearing as you heard Tyson complain about wanting his phone back. “You’re more welcome than Josty, if I’m being honest.” You chuckled at this, especially since you could hear Tyson let out an offended ‘Hey!’ from wherever he was on the other end of the line. You let out a defeated sigh, putting your key in the engine and twisting to turn your car on.

“What’s the address?”

Twenty minutes later you found yourself in an expensive neighborhood you would typically have no business being in. You were in awe of the large houses, probably as a result of the one too many HGTV shows you’ve watched. You texted Tyson that you had arrived and by the time you were walking up the driveway the front door opened, and he greeted you with a beaming smile and a wave.

You were swept into his arms the moment you were close enough, the familiar feeling enough to make you forget about your stressful day and how you really needed to look into finding a new apartment. Inside the house, you were met with the usual suspects: EJ, JT, Sam, Nate, Cale, Andre, and Mikko, plus any accompanying significant others. And, of course, the hosts, little baby Linnea catching your eye from the moment you entered the living room where everyone had gathered.

“Why are you dressed so fancy?” Sam teased as soon as you entered the room. You rolled your eyes, making your way to Mel, who was already asking if you wanted to hold her daughter.

“This isn’t fancy, they’re my work clothes.” You reasoned, gesturing towards your simple slacks and blouse. To be fair, it was more dressed up than the jeans and t-shirts he was used to seeing you in. “I had a late meeting, and then I grabbed dinner with some coworkers.”

“Tyson told us you got sexiled.” EJ grinned, and you hushed him, covering Linnea’s ears with your free hand as you kept her curled into you with the other. “What? She won’t remember this!”

“Yeah, but Cale will.” You chirped, sinking into the couch next to Tyson. His arm was resting on the back of the couch behind you but dropped around your shoulders as soon as you settled. The guys all laughed as you teased the rookie for his innocence, and Cale took the chirp in stride.

“I know that’s my baby, but you guys look like the cutest little family. You guys are so good together.” Mel commented and you felt your blood run cold. Part of you hoped she was talking about Andre and Mikko, who were sharing a loveseat on the opposite side of the room, but you knew your luck wasn’t that good.

“I, uh, have a boyfriend, actually. That’s not Tyson.” You coughed out after a moment of silence. Mel started sputtering out apologies, and the boys broke out in loud and obnoxious laughter. Beside you, Tyson chuckled, his heart clearly not in it but you elected to ignore it. That was a bit too much for you to unpack at the moment, especially in a room full of people.

“Gabe didn’t tell me.” Mel swatted her husband’s shoulder as she spoke, who in return raised his hands as proclaiming his innocence. You waved her off as best you could while still bouncing Linnea in your arms, but she shot you one last sorrowful look before thankfully Nate piped up with a story about something embarrassing that happened at practice that drew everyone’s attention off of you.

“Sorry if they made you uncomfortable.” Tyson whispered so only you could hear. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, spotting an unreadable look on his face. You smiled at him, a little too forced for reasons you couldn’t quite place, before turning back to the blue-eyed baby blinking up at you from your arms.

“Don’t worry about it. We always were told we made a cute couple, even back then.” You told him without really thinking. You tensed after you spoke, you never really talked about your past relationship and you weren’t sure what had coerced you into doing so just then. Tyson didn’t respond at first, and you risked a glance at him to see he was smiling faintly, that still unreadable look in his eyes that you couldn’t place. He leaned back into his seat, arm tightening over your shoulders just a tad bit more.

“Yeah, we got that a lot, didn’t we?”

#tyson jost #Tyson Jost x reader #Tyson Jost series #Tyson Jost imagine #Tyson Jost fic #Colorado Avalanche #Colorado Avalanche imagine #Colorado Avalanche x reader #hockey #hockey imagine #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl x reader

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frostbeees · 4 years

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Part 8.5

This is so me to post two of these in one week. You either get everything or nothing with me *shrugs* but when I was finally making up the Jeff/Eric list I realized I had actually read through quite a bit of other stuff that I really enjoyed sooo here we go.

As always, mind the tags however I will try to make sure any specific warnings are listed as needed.

Love’d Best by iaintafraidofnoghostbear - Travis Konecny/Nolan Patrick (Explicit, 2k) - We’re really starting with a bang (literally... bad joke) but this one is tagged for dubcon so please keep that in mind. Werewolf!Patty and human!Travis where Patty has pretty much lost control of his human self.

Burn Our Fingers and Change Our Names by @linskywords - Tyler Seguin/Jamie Benn (Explicit, 44k) - It very well could be that I’ve included this one before BUT I decided one day last week that I wanted to re-read the whole Wolfverse series from start to finish. The Tyler fail wolf part was the last full part I got through before making this post and I just never get tired of rec’ing this entire series. I’m so excited to eventually read the Sid/Geno part even though I really do not go there.

Nothing Left To Say by @princesstillyenna - Travis Konecny/Nolan Patrick (Teen, 1657) - I’m keeping this one around to read whenever I finish something super angsty and just need some pure fluff as a palate cleanser.

The Wolf by @boringdrouin - JT Compher/Tyson Jost (Mature, 8k) - I LOVE JT/JOSTY SO FUCKING MUCH. Also love a good werewolves in the NHL fic. JT as a pining werewolf, Josty as a pining human. Two dumbasses as usual.

Soft to be Strong by @greymichaela - Juuse Saros/Pekka Rinne (Explicit, 12k) - How I’ve managed to make 9 of these lists and NOT include this goalie nesting fic is beyond me. Such a fascinating trope and this one is perfectly angsty and 🥵.

With a Kiss and a Shout by @pattyteeks and @pastelle-pvnk - Travis Konecny/Nolan Patrick (Explicit, 4k) - I am very much here for vampire!TK. This is some much needed vampire PWP. (also pattyteeks, your u/n throws me off EVERYTIME bc I don’t always fully read it and I think it’s me 😂)

Bring it on Home by @notthequiettype - Eric Staal/Jeff Skinner (Explicit, 499) - WEREWOLF WEREWOLF WEREWOLF. Enough said.

the trust we have and the trust we share by @crooked-silence - Nathan MacKinnon/Cale Makar (Teen 4k) - CS out here filling up the Nate/Cale tag and I am so happy for that. Some supernatural fluff and I loooved it.

While the Sun Shines by @makeit-takeit - Nolan Patrick/Pierre-Luc Dubois (Explicit, 13k) - HOBOY. I just - honestly, have no words for this fic except that if you want some BIG on BIG action, PLEASE do yourself a favor and go read this. I’ll just leave you with this (because this line SENT ME, no fucking joke): “Ferda,” Luc says against his ear, “that’s what I’m about.”

What I’m Looking For by iaintafraidofnoghostbear, trashcoon(steven_damnkos) - Nolan Patrick/Blake Wheeler (Explicit, 5k) - Today’s trend is nolpat paired with someone you’d never expect, I guess. Sort of an AU where Patty drops hockey in high school. Patty is 17 in this fic and lies about his age so if that’s a no for you, please avoid. The other tags are important too on this one. BUT I kind of love a good daddy kink sooo I loved this one.

fever dream high in the quiet of the night by Anonymous - Travis Konecny/Nolan Patrick (Mature, 5k) - fuckbuddies to lovers. boys are dumb and then talk about their feelings. spicy then sweet. All of the above. ALSO I am 100% a sl*t for fics where Claude has to step in and make his boys figure out their shit. (did i start writing a fic about that and never finish it, MAYBEEE)

As always, if one of these is yours and you don’t want it on this post, please let me know! If you read any of these and wanna come scream in my inbox about them, PLEASE DO!

#fic recs #men’s hockey rpf #hockey rpf

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adellovesrowan · 3 years

Note

RSA- I forgot about Adel’s phobia. If it’s any consolation, I’m afraid of most bugs (literally every bug except bees). JT has nosophobia (the fear of disease) so flu season is an absolute nightmare for her. When you mentioned Cherry and Adel’s similarities you said at the end “ they both have a thing for the teachers pet good girl nerds”? 👀 Wait is Cherry wlw as well? Who exactly does she have a thing for? She shares a favorite color (purple) w JT. Also I’d love to hear indo hcs for Dian 🥺

HSHSJS UR SO VALID bugs are scary lmao. and ohhhh poor jt😭 KFHAKJDKSJ i cant say, its a “trust me on this” situation😌 but yes cherrys a wlw !! ohhhh yes purple gang !! KDJKAJF ok ok well some dian hcs thats been in my mind for some time. if dian were a hogwarts student, he would be a gryffindor. shes a fighter and hardly ever gives up. also he curses like a sailor and a lot of times various indo curses make their way in and its rly unnerving when u dont know what they mean JDJKAJD. also dian calling her friends indo terms of endearment🥺 like abang / bang / bung ( brother ), mbak / neng ( sister ), kawan / kawanku ( friend / my friend ), etc. also him wearing batik would be chefs kiss🥺 hdhdhdhhd i love dian thank u

RSA- sometimes Thea gets mistaken for a lobosca-kim since she’s got white hair and pale skin like Chiara plus black eyes. I like to think Chiara is tall so Thea looks like her in that regard as well but no she’s not related to any of them. She also follows the wolf trend of obvious names. Her full name influenced her design since Galatea means “milk white” and in the myth, Galatea was originally a statue. Wait Thea as an art model for Badeea’s classes 🥺 oh my god she’d be so pretty <3

HDHDHSHDH OH I LOVE THAT ! pleaseeee thea is sooo pretty🥺🥺

RSA- the kids tried burying Dian in the sand once. It did not work for obvious reasons. Also what if Mina added violets or cherry blossoms to Cherry’s hair? Idk what Mina’s favorite flower is but her favorite fruit is mangoes bc they’re the first thing she knew how to grow. She grew other stuff before that but it was out of her control and wouldn’t last too long. JT’s favorite flowers are sunflowers so Mina grows them on her mom’s birthday and Mother’s Day. Mina growing plants when she’s bored.

LMAOOOABDJFBA OHMYGOD dumbass children. AAAAAHH HELLO THATS SO CUTE🥺🥺 MANGO BEING MINAS FAV IS SOO CUTE WTF. ohhhh minas so cute she loves jt so much🥺

RSA- I mentioned the former existence of Skyler and the angel au reminded me of her bc she had blue wings. So what if after the lines between demons and angels have been blurred there are kids with more colorful wings. It does make it more dangerous since people would be able to tell that they’re half demon half angel instead of just a fallen angel or demon. Bianca being homeschooled was cut out since her mom already teaches at a school in this au plus there’s not the ch 18 trauma

OHHHHH half demon half angel skyler !! 🥺 and YA so glad ch 18 wasnt actually real🙄😩

RSA- Rowan passing her scarf down to Cherry 🥺. Cherry wearing it every year during the winter and showing it to her friends. Finn absolutely loves it. When did cherry get interested in baking? Baby cherry with her parents 🥺. When Mina was a baby, JT refused to let anyone besides herself and thistle hold Mina for the first few months. Penny, Tonks, and Chiara convinced JT to let them watch Mina so that Mina’s parents could take a break. It was the least they could do for their old roommate.

OOOOO THATS SO CUTE i need to draw that sometime. id say she tried baking when she was around five years old ! with help ofc. HEYDHSHDHHD jt is very protective of baby mina omgg🥺🥺 god bless the hufflepuffs watching over the baby

RSA- I’m glad you like the idea of brown eyed haywoods. I remember I sent in an ask to a different person about picturing Penny with brown eyes and someone reblogged that with an edit of brown eyed Penny. I was going to include a link to that in this ask but that didn’t work. (The edit was by theatricalasshole. He did a great job on it). Also I saw the tags in the last post and I’m so sorry about sending so many asks!! I would say it won’t happen again but I never shut up so that’d be a lie.

YESSSS brown eyed haywoods are beautiful !! and NOOOO DONT WORRY DHDHDHD i dont mind getting lots of asks but its just taking me so long to answer bc i get distracted so easily and i didnt want to keep u waiting😭

RSA- the school in the early years with Rowan as the only teacher and twenty students like those schoolhouses in the olden days. We both know the school gets bigger as more people teach/study there but the small, cozy nature of the early years. Students growing up and some of them teaching at the school when they’re adults. Students and teachers having positive memories of the school after they graduate or retire. Wait Rowan in dark academia aesthetic/ fashion 👀

SCREAMS the early years sounds so good ohh its so cozy. its what they deserve😩 some good safe education. and YEEEEESS WE LOVE TJAT A LOT

RSA- I’m looking through my old asks and I’ve sent over twenty ( it’s more than that the ones that were bunched together were counted as one each) so thanks for listening to all this, it’s totally understandable if you don’t remember something. Hell I have a bad memory too. I do like reading your responses to the different asks they’re v thoughtful. Do you have a favorite character or idea or whatever from this au bc if so I could come up with more hcs about them?

HDHDHHDHSHD thank u for understanding and YAAA SAME. DHSHHS im glad u like my responses lmao i try to engage with everything u said bc theyre all good takes !! well we all KNOW who my fav character is ( its rowan in case it wasnt obvious LMAO ) but i rly like hearing ab whoever u want to talk about !!

RSA- so this is gonna be the last of this specific bunch of asks bc I don’t have that many ideas rn. Mara w bat wings. Chiara has taken in at least two Wolf cubs (borf and Finn) so I feel like she’s the type to take in strays. Dian gets seniority amongst her roommates since she’s older than their parents (he lived between 1956-1970, so he died when he was fourteen). This is a joke but Ebony from my immortal as one of the music teachers. She bonds with Mara bc they’re vampires (half for Mara)

mara w bat wings yes !!! HEUDUEHHS i love that somuch for chiara. OHHH POOR BABY😭 now i have the hc that dian used to be friends with adels mom, cordelia ( shes indonesian ! ofc i had to make adel half indo LMAO ). or maybe dian and delia are related who knows😩 i think itd be funny if they were related bc then adel, an adult now, would see dian, a fourteen year old ghost, and realize hes related to delia and be like bloody hell youre my auncle. SJBDNDHDHJS i just think its rly funny LMAO.

NOOOOOOOOOO WHY IS EBONY HEREE DJFKAKFNND ohmyGODD😭😭 HEHDUDHSHDHJSHRJEJ ohmygdo but anyway. good for mara😌

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puckmeupfam · 5 years

Text

Locked Down | Tyson Jost

Word Count: 1969 Note: This is my first time writing non-headcanon-y fanfic, but Tyson is my... exactly my type so here goes nothing

It was probably a mistake to bring your boyfriend back to your hometown for the holidays. You knew this. It wasn’t that you were worried that your parents wouldn’t like him. No, Tyson puts his hand on the small of your back and leans in to check on you randomly throughout the day which makes your mom give you a knowing look. And his mom raised him to go in the kitchen, put on an apron, and ask to be put to work - even if he was hopeless. Tyson was any parent’s dream boyfriend. The problem was that your family, and specifically your female relatives, had the tendency to be a bit overbearing… especially when it came to your love life.

“(Y/N), can you come help me in the kitchen for a minute,” your mother called. Your hand was in Tyson’s and your legs were intertwined so he also rose to follow you. “Not you Tyson, dear, you just relax,” she said. You looked back at Tyson to see him shrug and go back to watching the cheesy Netflix movie. Your fuzzy sock covered feet shuffled to the kitchen where your mom was waiting. “What do you need,” you asked as you entered to which your mom replied with a belabored sigh. “I don’t actually need anything,” she gave you a duh look which made you feel more like you were back in middle school than a grown adult talking with your mother. “I just wanted to talk to you about that boyfriend of yours,” your mom said with a smirk. Now you were the one sighing. You move to slouch against the counter as your mom keeps talking.

“I think we were all just wondering when you were going to lock that down.”

“Mother,” you gasped. This made that damn smirk on her face grow. You and Tyson had been dating for less than a year, you had met his family during the playoffs and then again when you visited him in the off-season and the holidays had been his turn. All you had wanted was a peaceful trip. You had even thought it might be the best holiday season yet because you would have Tyson with you, but of course, your family had to meddle. He was the first boyfriend you had ever officially brought home. And ever since you were in high school there were always relative and family friends asking if you had a boyfriend yet or if you would be willing to go out with Janet’s “very successful” grandson.

“Mom, we aren’t there yet,” you started, “we’re young and we haven’t been together long and Tyson has hockey.” Your mom rolled her eyes and batted her hand as if none of that mattered. “(Y/N), he’s a wonderful boy and all I’m saying is that your grandma is getting older and you know she would want to go to your wedding…” she told you. “Are you really trying to guilt me into getting married? This is a new low” you huffed. Your mom was sadly not one to stop pressing. “My veil is upstairs and, I mean, you really don’t want to wait too long.” You determinedly spun around to march out of the kitchen. As you reentered the living room you paused for a second as you saw Tyson curled up with a blanket on the sofa, seemingly enamored with the silly holiday movie. You moved to stand in front of him and reached both of your hands out for his. “Do you want to go somewhere,” you asked. Even though the movie seemed to be at its climax with the main character going through some kind of post-breakup montage, Tyson dutifully stood up and went with you as you pulled him to the door to get your coats, keys, and shoes.

The sun went down so early in the winter so while it wasn’t that late it was dark out… and cold. Not quite raining or snowing, but there were wet flurries here and there as you walked down the path towards the car. Tyson hopped in the passenger’s seat because you knew the roads having grown up here. Both of you were quiet as you began to drive. There wasn’t a clear destination in your head. You headed towards the downtown part of the city where there was more to do, just hoping that something would jump out at you. That something that you had been waiting for jumped out at Tyson instead.

“Hey, hey, hey, (Y/N),” he blurted out excitedly. As you looked at what he was frantically pointing at you saw the outdoor ice rink. You looked back at him questioningly. “Tyson, you skate every day,” you said. “Yeah, but not with you,” he replied drawing out the last word. At that, you exaggeratingly raised your eyebrow thinking of the Avs family skate the two of you had gone to just over a week ago. He returned your look with puppy dog eyes that had you pulling into the first available parking spot.

While you were waiting in line for your skates, Tyson hip-checked you and then pulled you back by your clasped hand. You thought he probably sensed that something was off. If your quietness wasn’t enough of an indicator, the fact that you rushed out of the kitchen and then promptly dragged him out of the house definitely was. He moved to wrap an arm around your waist and then kissed the top of your hair. Tyson had the wonderful quality of always being snuggly warm without overheating you so you pressed yourself against him in an attempt to warm up.

Once you finally had your rented skates in hand, he insisted on tying them for you. Afterwards, he reached out a hand to pull you up. While you hadn’t been raised a skater in any sense, Tyson had worked hard to teach you on a few different occasions which meant that at this point you could solidly skate around without falling. As your skating ability increases so did his ability to tease you while skating. When you first started he couldn’t even move from your death grip without you panicking, but now that you could keep yourself steady he could pull you faster or be otherwise obnoxious to make you laugh. In this case, it meant Tyson trying to spin you under his arm like you were ballroom dancing. This meant that you would inevitably stumble into his chest, both of you in fits of giggles.

That was one of your favorite parts of dating Tyson. He had an uncanny ability to cheer you up. If you had a bad day at work he would put on a production of singing ‘00s pop songs until tears were streaming down your face from laughing so hard. When he was in Edmonton and you were still in Colorado, he sent you a framed picture of himself with a note that said, “just because I know you miss me sooooooooooooo much.” Now here he was spinning you around an outdoor rink in your hometown, being perfect one again.

As the night grew on, the other skaters began to clear out which left just you, Tyson, and a group of three teenagers still on the ice. The two of you were skating more calmly while you chatted quietly about random things - some prank he had played on JT, a story Grandpa Jost had told about his band practice, a project you were doing at work. Eventually, he pulled you to the side of the rink so that you faced each other.

“Are you going to tell me what happened,” he asked with a knowing look on his face. You tried to play dumb and put on your best I have no idea what you’re talking about face. Tyson sighed, “do you really think I’ll believe that you just happened to storm out of the kitchen and drag me out for no reason?” He clearly had you cornered but in a last ditch effort you tried to steer the conversation away one more time: “I thought you were having fun! You’re the one who wanted to go skating.” Tyson crossed his arms and gave you a look which told you he wasn’t going to let you avoid the question.

“Okay, fine. My mom was just pressuring me… about you. And I needed a break,” you told him. As you looked back up to make eye contact you could see Tyson’s face drop. “Oh,” he said, “I thought they liked me.” Your heart broke at how sad he looked. It was clear that he really was trying hard to impress them and valued their opinion of him. Even though you would rather not tell him just how much your family liked him, you knew that you had to. It might make things a bit awkward - not because he would get scared off, but because you knew that he would likely tease you incessantly - but it would at least take the kicked puppy look off of your boyfriend’s face.

You sighed, “no Tyson, they fucking loved you, that’s the problem.” The sad look on his face diminished slightly, curiosity taking its place. “My mom may have been asking me when I was going to lock that down,” you told him, making air quotes around the final words. At this, Tyson broke out into a wide smile, “I see.” He spun away a bit and broke out into Gracie Hart’s, “you think I’m gorgeous, you wanna daaaate me, love me, and marry me!” You put your hands to your red face and began skating towards him as he waggled his eyebrows and did a little dance. “Tyson it’s not funny,” you whined. At this point you had reached the other side of the rink as he wrapped his arms around your waist and once again pressed you against the rail.

“Seriously though, (Y/N), like, I see a future with you… You’re my favorite person and when I do get “locked down” I want you to do it.” He was clearly trying to make it a bit of a joke in case you didn’t respond the same way, but it still took you aback. In all honesty, you loved Tyson and couldn’t see yourself with anyone else. “Well, yeah, I’m hopelessly in love with you, Tys. But that doesn’t mean that I want my mom shoving her veil in my hands,” you were mumbling into his chest, but he heard you. “Yeah, I still have to buy a ring… hire a flashmob, all that stuff,” he teased. You jokingly pushed him away which made him laugh loudly while pulling you back into him.

With both of you feeling content and the night air getting colder and colder you went back to your parent’s house for the night. You entered the front door, instantly feeling the warmth from the fireplace. The adults who were staying over were in similar positions to how you left them. They seemed to be playing some sort of card game around the coffee table. You waved to everyone as you pulled Tyson with you towards the stairs. Right before you would be out of their view, Tyson stopped and turned around.

“(Y/M/N), I’ll give you a heads up of when to pull out the veil, okay?” he shouted down. You looked to see a massive grin take over your mom’s face. “Tyson!” you chastized before running up the stairs to follow his giggling form to your room. Embarrassment and meddling mothers aside, you felt light and happy knowing that you and Tyson were in it for the long haul. The two of you had countless more giggly, teasing nights ahead of you and you couldn’t wait.

#nhl imagine #nhl imagines #tyson jost imagine #tyson jost #hockey imagine #colorado avalanche #t.jost

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bensonstablers · 5 years

Note

Hi Queen❤️ Can you make a ‘What we know (or think we know) so far about season 3’ post ?! There’s so much info and it’s so unorganized in my brain. Help 🥺💋

Hi, there!

Let me start by saying that I mostly kept this to information we’ve been given and tried to stay away from too many theories because this post got long. Because of that, I’m actually going to put everything I can find under a read more/keep reading tab. (Although that being said, I’m always happy to answer asks about theories, I just wanted to keep this post from becoming a ridiculous length).

There’s actually been a ton of information about Good Girls season 3 so far (albeit, some of it vague haha) so I’m sure I’ve missed some things. Saying that, I recommend checking out @pynkhues‘ blog (which I’m sure you have), particularly this tag for extra details and discussions as well as info I might have missed (I find Sophie often posts about, reblogs, or is sent asks regarding details of season 3 quite regularly, ha).

The Good Girls tag on here is also great to check out as well as any official social media accounts for the show as well as cast and crew. To be honest, a lot of behind the scenes stuff is posted to IG stories which delete after 24 hours and I find they’re not always captured in time to find elsewhere.

Anyway, everything below is split into sections and there are sources provided (said sources will potentially give extra information on top of what I’ve put!) I really hope this is organised enough for you and it’s not everything but I hope it’s what you were looking for! ^_^

Firstly, there’s this spoiler post that was made but if you don’t like spoilers and just want ‘official’ information that is announced on socials and through blog articles, I’d recommend skipping it :)

The basics:

We got an official release date: February 16th 2020 (source)

We’re getting 16 episodes this season (source)

Saying that, they’re potentially filming right through till March (source). As of right now, we’ve definitely got about 7 episodes done in terms of table reads (and filming too I think?).

We got the titles for the first 3 episodes (source) and due to IG stories we know episode 7 is called, “Vegas, Baby!”

Information about previous cast members (not including the obvious, ha):

Basically every kid on the show has been photographed on set including David Miranda who plays Marcus (a lot of the kids have instagram and you’ll see a ton of sources there).

It’s possible Jessica Walter will be back as Judith (source)

Sally Pressman is back as Nancy (source)

I don’t think it’s been confirmed if Zach Gilford is back as Greg but if Nancy is back, I’m assuming he’ll at least make an appearance.

Carlos Aviles is back as one of Rio’s boys (source - he’s also posted in IG stories about it too)

Julian Grant who plays JT (the Quick Cash guy) is set to return for at least 3x01 according to IMDb (source)

Sam Huntington doesn’t seem to be coming back for season 3 (source - his thank you tweet after season 2 finished).

Allison Tolman is playing the lead in the show Emergence so probably won’t return for this season (I guess it depends on schedule but I doubt it).

New cast members:

Charlyne Yi was cast as the fourth good girl Lucy who was hinted at at the end of season 2 and was also teased in interviews with Jenna Bans (source)

Jackie Cruz was cast a Rhea (source) and while that source revealed that Rhea was going to become friends with Beth we now have information as to who else she’s connected to as well as first look pictures of both Rhea and Beth in season 3 (source - if you don’t want to be spoiled, I wouldn’t recommend checking that source)

Ione Skye was cast as Gayle who works with Dean at his new job at a hot tub store (source) and Ione has made a couple of instagram posts like this one and this one. And I also want to say she made some IG stories but they only last 24 hours so I can’t link any, ha.

Noureen Dewulf was cast as Krystal (source) - she’s also posted a few IG stories in the past which confirmed her character’s name and also showed her on set with various people but mainly Reno Wilson bringing about the idea that Krystal will be connected to stan.

Wesley Kimmel was cast as Tim (source) and there’s really no information about him that I’ve noticed but he’s often seen with the other kids in photos (mainly the Bolands) and a lot of people have pointed out he looks like Matthew Lillard so there’s speculation he’ll be connected to them (the other theory is that he’s Gayle’s son).

Brent Jeremiah was cast a Thug #2 lmao (source) but the interesting thing is that he actually mentioned working with Christina which means this ‘thug’ is likely connected to Beth’s journey into crime (whether that be good or bad remains to be seen though).

There was also an IG post about Alex Jayne Go on set or something but I can’t seem to find it, however, she’s listed as ‘Fiona’ in 3x03 on IMDb (source)

Naomi Grossman was cast as Dr Amanda Johnson (source) and her role is only a guest one so I’m not entirely sure how much we’ll see of her.

Megan Thee Stallion has been cast to appear although there’s not really any information on who she’ll be playing and whatnot (source)

Some behind the scenes stuff:

I don’t actually follow him but I’ve heard that Gabe Rodriguez who works on Good Girls often posts a bunch of behind the scenes stuff on his instagram. - I feel like it was him who posted a picture of a strip club or something which added fuel to the fire of Krystal being a stripper or something along those lines, ha.

Christina, Mae, and Retta were filming in a graveyard at one point (source) and Carlos Aviles also posted about the same set on his IG stories (source) so most likely Manny/Rio is involved in those scenes too.

There’s a printing press this season (source) and (I think) it was confirmed that Beth and co will be working with cards as part of their business (in 3x01 on IMDb there’s a listing for ‘young card customer’) and there was a photo floating around where you see the sign: “Paper Porcupine” in the background.

I’m 90% sure it was seen in slightly more HD versions of these photos which were actually some of the first we got of Manny/Rio on set, ha.

In some IG stories, Reno mentioned he couldn’t show his face because of spoilers which I’m guessing means either a) Stan is injured or b) his outfit gives something big away about his storyline.

Whenever the cast have posted pictures that show Manny onset (whether it be for table reads or filming) those posts are usually promptly deleted (like this one) meaning that the show is still trying to keep his fate ambiguous, most likely wanting to make his return a big surprise for fans who haven’t quite figured out he’s coming back.

Everleigh (Jane) and David (Marcus) are often photographed together and its probably cause they’re close in age and friends but there’s a high chance we’ll see Jane and Marcus become friends in season 3 (it also seems that Marcus will just be in this season a lot more than season 2 in general).

There’s this photo of Jackie, Christina, and Mae which could mean nothing but we know Rhea and Beth will have scenes together but, considering that photos was from September, I wonder if Annie (and Ruby) will meet Rhea pretty early on and share scenes with her, aha.

#danielle answers #anon #nbc good girls

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ruminativerabbi · 4 years

Text

Bouncing Back

We human beings are essentially adaptable creatures, but we don’t think of ourselves that way most of the time. In fact, just the opposite is how we usually see ourselves: as creatures of habit so used to our ways that it takes a seismic shift in the environment to move us into new modes of behavior or attitude. But then, when there is simply no alternative and we suddenly do have to adapt, we somehow manage it nevertheless. We all exemplified that ability in the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy back in 2012, for example, when so many of us were suddenly without electric power not for minutes or hours but—for many of us—for almost two weeks. Somehow, we figured it out. We cooked on disposable hibachis in the backyard. We read by flashlight or by candlelight. We drove into Queens to retrieve our email in the first public library we passed that had wi-fi available to the public. For the first day or two, it was challenging and almost exciting to figure out how to survive. By day three, not so much. A week later, we had all had enough. But my point for today is not really how adaptive we were, but how fleeting all those changes proved to be: as soon as the power went back on, no one was interested in frying eggs in the backyard or in reading in bed at night by candlelight. It was real change, real adaptation. But it didn’t last: as soon as the power went back on, we all went immediately back to where we had been before the storm hit.

When the COVID crisis was just upon us, I imagined at first that this would be like that, that the coronavirus would be the viral version of Sandy. And, indeed, in the beginning, that was exactly how it seemed. We struggled for a while to figure out how to get things done. And then, when we really were out of eggs and toilet paper (and not in that order for most of us), we adapted because we simply had to. We figured out how make face masks out of t-shirts. We figured out how to order groceries, toiletries, and prescription drugs online. We figured out how to get our daily exercise without a gym to drive to or a public pool to swim in. Houses of worship learned how to conduct their services on zoom platforms. Teachers of all sorts, myself included, figured out how to teach on those same zoom platforms. Here and there, the cloud even showed a bit of silver lining as people conducting zoomed seder meals suddenly realized that they could invite relatives from all over the country, even from all around the world, who would otherwise never have been able even to consider coming. Instead of declining, participation in daily worship actually increased as the possibility of coming to minyan in the morning without having actually to go outside in the cold beckoned to non-regular worshipers and inspired them to embrace daily prayer in a way that they either never had or at least hadn’t for a long time. So, because we had to, we adapted quickly and—speaking of our life at Shelter Rock specifically—almost remarkably efficiently and effectively.

Will things just go back to normal when this is all over? In 2012, that’s exactly what happened when the power went back on. But I don’t see that happening this time ’round. Indeed, what I’ve been sensing just recently is that we are being altered by this experience in ways that will remain with us long after the crisis passes, and that that is going to be true in many different settings. All sorts of businesses currently conducting business from their employees’ homes will wonder why—given that they have no walk-in trade anyway—they bother paying all that rent to have a central office in the first place. Houses of worship that are attracting more, not fewer, people to worship will wonder what the benefit would be in going back to the previous mode of operation. Schools too will be prompted to wonder if their entire operations couldn’t be streamlined—and made dramatically less expensive to operate—by making off-site learning the rule rather than the exception. True, there’s no way to conduct a choir on the zoom platform. And neither would it be possible to teach lab-based science classes to people with no physical access to the kind of equipment in well-stocked labs. But listening to lectures about history or literature, or learning a language—it seems less obvious that these couldn’t be conducted with as much success via distance learning as when teacher and pupils are all in the same physical space.

At the core of the issue is not really the question of ease, however, but one of human nature. And that is my real topic for today.

Jewish tradition is crystal-clear about the need for a minyan—a prayer quorum of ten—if worship is to take place in a non-abbreviated way that reflects the sanctity of the undertaking fully and meaningfully. The reason given in classical sources for that specific number—or, for that matter, for there being a number at all—is, however, not particularly satisfying. The Mishnah offers a list of all the parts of regular worship that require a quorum of ten. The Talmud then responds by asking where that rule came from and then by offering an answer to its own question in the form of a tradition taught by Rabbi Chiyya bar Abba in the name of Rabbi Yochanan, one of the great rabbis of the talmudic era, according to whom the requirement derives from a verse from Leviticus 22 that features the statement that God, by divine nature, seeks to become sanctified amidst the people, which the rabbi took to imply that all the most sacred parts of the service—the parts that lead to the name of God formally and publicly being sanctified—may only be undertaken in the presence of a quorum, of a minyan. The Talmud finds that assertion obscure and wonders aloud how that verse can possibly lead to that conclusion. It’s an excellent question, but most moderns will find the answer somewhere between obscure and unsatisfying. The verse from Leviticus says that God will be sanctified amidst the children of Israel. And a different verse uses that same word, amidst, when—in telling the story of the desert rebellion of Korach—God is cited as telling Moses and Aaron to separate themselves from amidst the congregation of rebels so that they will not suffer their fate. And then, because the word “congregation” had been used just a few chapters earlier to refer specifically to the ten spies Moses sent out to reconnoiter the land and who later opposed Caleb and Joshua and encouraged the people to give up any hope of ever establishing themselves in the Land of Israel—that, the Talmud triumphantly concludes, is why we need ten people to constitute a minyan.

I first learned that passage of Talmud when I was a student at JTS more than forty years ago. It didn’t seem too convincing to me then. It still doesn’t. The whole notion that that kind of elaborate word play can be used to develop actual laws that affect real people in the course of their daily lives is not something I would particularly want to defend in public. Mustn’t there be some other reason for needing a physically real, extant, present community of people in the same place to worship fully and meaningfully?

The journey to spiritual fulfillment is a journey each of us takes alone. The ancient model has to do with the pilgrimage to Jerusalem that the Torah ordains be undertaken three times a year: each pilgrim is best imagined traveling as a party of one to commune with the one God, as a solo traveler making personal progress, yes, to the glimmering real city in the distance, but also to a private Jerusalem in which the two—the Israelite and the fully present God of Israel—will henceforth be able to dwell in each other’s presence even after the former returns home and resumes normal, everyday life. It is, in fact, in that specific way that the pilgrimage was deemed to be a transformational experience and not merely a task to be undertaken thrice annually.

That is not the full story, however. Each pilgrim following a private, wholly idiosyncratic path towards a personal destiny in God was also a traveler moving forward with countless others on the real road to the real Jerusalem, the actual city that in ancient times housed the actual Temple in which God was imaged to have settled the divine name and thus at least in some sense to have become approachable and knowable. And that image of people pursuing their personal redemptive moment fully alone, but also in the company of countless others attempting to do the same thing along the same path—that is the model for worship in our day that serves as the equivalent of the pilgrimages undertaken thousands of years ago to the Holy City. In my mind, in fact, it is that specific concept of being alone together that this whole zoom-worship experience has taught me to value in a way that I hadn’t really previously.

I like joining our zoom-minyan each morning and evening. (Readers who haven’t tried it out are welcome to enter through the Shelter Rock website at www.srjc.org. Morning worship is at 7:30 from Sunday through Friday; evenings are at 8 PM Sunday though Thursday.) I too like the idea of not having to go out into the cold when it’s blustery and freezing outside! But there is something about the physical presence of others traveling the same road to the same golden city wholly on their own but also in the same space I myself am occupying that I find very satisfying, and that no virtual community will ever be able wholly successfully to recreate.

In our modern world, aloneness—equated by many with loneliness—is rarely a sought-after thing. The books about aloneness that I’ve written about in this space over the years—Thoreau’s Walden; Admiral Byrd’s terrific Alone, his deeply affecting account of his time spent totally on his own in Antarctica for several months in 1934; Clark Moustakas’s many works on the topic including particularly his final work, Loneliness, Creativity, and Love—these are all about the way that image of being a lonely pilgrim on a personal journey to redemption can work in the secular context. In the spiritual one, though, the image is of a room of people together in the same space as each pursues his or her personal path forward, lonely (because the spiritual quest is by its nature a lonely one) and also not lonely (because the room is filled with friendly, encouraging faces, some of whom the worshiper has been davening with for decades). And that is why life on the zoom platform, for all it has to recommend it, will never replace a real-life minyan of people lifting their hearts in prayer to God as individuals in the company of others who, together and alone, are at the very same time also progressing towards their private Jerusalems along the dusty byways of ancient Israel…and also in the context of real life as it is lived in the bosom of a community of caring friends.

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gaudeixcc · 6 years

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Peleton news – Butter knife.

This week, RTA and Moley went off to enjoy the cycling somewhere. We were all invited (eventually) and what an evening it was. JT, like a foreign benefactor blessing his adoring public with little leather pouches containing silver coins, sent £7 to our hapless duo for them to buy some fizzy lager. It’s not all champagne and strawberries in his Munich Penthouse you know. The fact that he can risk his children’s breakfast by dipping into the pension pot to pull out 7 whole pounds just to buy Bert and Ernie a beer speaks volumes.

JT has changed. I remember years back on a drunken night out, James threw 10p at my head after I had suggested his Golf (2.3V5) was not quite in the same league as my BMW 635 Csi (shark-nose). The shot caused a small dimple on my temple. Later that night in my taxi ride home, I spotted him shining a torch in the gutter in a lame attempt to locate the said coin.

He never did find it…. But the story doth not endeth there… many many years later, last year in fact, when JT paid for coffee one morning on our Malaga trip and shared the bill with the Peleton, the eagle eyed amongst you will have noticed that everyone got charged £3.20….. everyone except me… my bill was £3.30….. I looked at my screen… I looked up at JT… I looked at my screen again…… I didn’t move my head this time, instead slowly raised my eyes to his. There was much hub-ub at the time with the rest of the group teasing RTA about careless bicycle leaning (bike on wall.. bike off wall… bike on floor…. Damo summoned to fix)…..but JT met my eyes with his icy stare. We said nothing….. JT tapped his temple….. and we both knew…. That 10p was lost no more. The Trusler balance sheet was restored.

Half an hour later I glanced over JT’s shoulder as he was texting the lovely Mrs JT…. All I could read of JT’s message was;

‘Close the 2004 accounts. Balance now received. Nobody makes a monkey outta……’ and that was all I glimpsed….(although I later saw Karen’s reply ping through…’Well done love, nobody out-cunts the cuntmaster general…ps. Bring home some schnitzel x’…)

So in summary my advice to RTA and Moley is…. Send the money back…. You might as well…. And probably before the 2018 accounting period is over.

Sunday came this week and for a change some of the Peleton managed to ride together.

There has been much press speculation of late concerning G19. The big fight in town being DripHop….. a little less Wiggins v Froome.. a little more Fury v Wilder.

This was the first press conference Drip and I have done since James ‘Frank Warren’ Trusler had the contracts drawn up. It could have been a frosty affair, but luckily, we had Macca ringside to keep things on the straight and narrow.

Macca, not one for riding off ahead and leaving every other fucker in his wake, rode off ahead and left every other fucker in his wake.

Drip and I made a sufficient meal of riding in mud and also managed to embarrass ourselves with many a stranger before the day had concluded.

It didn’t start well.

We rocked up in Cricketers close in my second-hand bargain Range Rover (blacked out windows, natch).

I wound down the passenger window when we saw a cyclist and immediately struck up a conversation with the fellow rider as he was Macca’s mate and was due to join us on our ride. Being Macca’s mate, he was dressed in hugely expensive gear, had an expensive (but sensible) car and spoke with an accent that has probably had money thrown at it at some point. (He really was grammatically flawless). Drip and I were dressed in trackies and trainers and looked like a couple of pikies who had lucked-out and found a brace of bikes outside the local newsagents.

Anyhoo…. After much jolly banter, our riding partner disappears and Macca arrives on the scene.

‘Who was that?’ asks Cricketers favourite pilot (there are 14 of them on the close).

Turns out the fella had fuck all to do with Macca and us….. ffs…. Sometimes I do feel a complete pillock.

Anyway, it comes time to trundle off and Dawn waves from the upstairs window… well, it was either a wave or a furious ‘get the hell out of the street with all ya noise and bafoonary, people are trying to sleep’…. I think it was just a wave.

The ride itself was tough. It’s been a while since either of the two Crawley boys have troubled mud on a bicycle and the long, slow climbs took their toll.

Overall though I was quite pleased with the days riding. Macca was like a wheeled London city guide…every hill, climb or manoeuvre was teed-up with an introduction.

‘Slow climb coming up… steepens after the turn….. then steady to the top’

‘Tough climb… looks easy… is surprisingly hard and into the wind’

My favourite of the lot was when we were about to conduct a tricky gnarly and rooty left/right bend.

‘I’ve only every completed this a couple of times without having to walk the bike round’ says Macca… clearly expecting Drip and I to be walking bikes around.

I follow Macca. Macca clears the tricky section without stopping. It’s the first time he’s done it in years. Now it would take a complete twat to show-boat and go around like a hot knife through butter making easy what had been positioned as hard. It would have been like a giant ‘fuckyoumotherfucker’ whilst giving the finger behind poor Macca’s back.

Clearly Drip and I are two proper gentlemen who don’t just rock up at this sort of event looking like Vince and Jules at the end of Pulp Fiction only to embarrass our host by deploying rarely seen cycling talent to cast shadow over his own.

Who do you think we are…? We’re not monsters you know.

Anyway, I went round that corner like a knife though hot fucking butter….. but boy did I pay the price later….

The promised post-ride breakfast was a dish of revenge…. Served piping hot.

Drip, who had the courtesy to put his foot down and pretend that it was too hard, got Avacado with his bacon, two cups of coffee… TWO!!!... double toast…. DOUBLE TOAST…all served up within minutes of his arse touching a McEvoy perching stool.

I had to wait….. a loooong time……. And then……. I got a piece of toast (un-buttered).

‘Er…. ‘ I said.

‘What?’ squawked Macca

‘Butter?’ says I.

Macca pushes it my way…. And adds a ‘would you like a fucking hot knife with that?’

Now I may be seeing shadows, but I think Macca might have had the hump. It was either my wizadary on two-wheels that hacked him off…. or it might have been the fact that on entering the McEvoy kitchen I immediately commented on the picture of Mark and the budgie (now ex-budgie) on the fridge.

On mention of the cheeky chappy Dawn cried for a solid 20 minutes…. How was I to know?

All-in-all though, a successful ride out. Fury vs Wilder looks set to be a thriller. Training has started in both camps and ahead of us lies many a press conference.

So finally, I’d like to end on an unusually positive note. Our 2018 pink cap, RTA, has been shamed by Damo into action and will shortly be sending out invites (printed on heavy-weight fine china-white stationary) to his inaugural 2018 pink cap social.

It will be lovely to see you all. We can expect a contribution from our Munich benefactor no-doubt, in line with the precedence he set last weekend.

So for those in any doubt, I’ll wrap up with this little thought. Never in the history of Gaudeix tours, has training started so early for so many. G19…. As Moley would no doubt say…. This shit just got real. Get on your turbo’s boys…. The Pyrenees are a comin’ and the butter knifes are being warmed.

#PeletonNews

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nyisles · 6 years

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okay I'm lowkey getting into the Islanders but idk very much so could you give me a rundown of your team. they're from what i've seen good guys and I want to love them

i’d like to welcome you to the biggest mistake of your hockey-loving career. you’ll probably hate and love every second of it like i do. i’m trying to think of important info (or at least important to me and it’s definitely biased and missing GREAT guys) so here we go….

before we jump into players it’s CRUCIAL you know isles fans HATE the GM Garth Snow who is honestly a rat. He does NOTHING for this team and needs to be fired. #SnowMustGo and Doug Weight…. he was only supposed to replace our former coach Jack Capuano but here he is… still fucking coaching.

now onto players who make my world go round.

we’ll start with our lord and savior, John Tavares (#91). sometimes called JT. sometimes the biggest loaf of plain ole boring bread, but he’s our captain and we love and need him forever. he’s now a free agent so i’m honestly going to sell a kidney to ensure his spot on the team next year.

then there’s his dare i say elite winger, Josh Bailey (#12). you either hate him or love him, there is no in between on the island. the guy has come a long way from the ~trash~ hockey player we have seen in the past and for that i want to hug him and keep him forever. he finally went to the all star game this year and dang, i’m proud

next is the final part of the BLT line, Anders Lee (#27) (get it… bailey, lee, tavares…) this man just got 40 goals this past season so i am proud!!!! his most notable contributions to the team is being a stud in front of the net and having the anders lee kancer jam which is to fundraise for childrens cancer research. he’s also a proud notre dame alum. one time i saw him on the train and literally walked to barclays next to him and went to talk to him but he had his headphones in and didn’t notice me omfg.

nexT is the second line… they are my life….. let’s start with our absolute gem of a rookie centerman, the loml, mathew barzal (#13). only one t in mathew because he’s fucking cool like that okay? he’s a SHOE IN for the calder. the kid can skate circles around defensemen and create plays in almost any situation. it’s definitely because he had figure skating lessons this past summer, so kudos. i feel like i need a separate post for his perfection and i’m trying to be limited in how much i talk about him because ARE YOU STILL READING? i digress… he is just good at everything. literally. plus he got his first goal in the game against the rags. he is a true islander.

then we have, mathew’s #1 bff / butt buddy….. anthony beauvillier (#72), aka beau aka tito aka a french canadian BEAUT. he speaks french fluently and him and barzy speak it to each other… rt if you cried. this boy was a rookie last year, spent his sophmore year in a lil bit of a slump and was sent down, BUT with ladd’s injury he was recalled and FUCKING DESTROYED IT. he ended this season with 21 goals. dang boy, i’m a proud mom. he is SWEET, he writes cute shit on his stick and smiley faces before games. nothing says panty dropper like a bilingual, sweet, hockey player.

next we finish the line with the gap toothed beauty that is jordan eberle (#7). thank the lord we got him from the oilers (what a fuckin steal…. ebs for ryan strome….) he plays on the most electric line with barzy and beau. he’s probably the consistency this team needed and GOD I LOVE IT. he just does so many things for this teams offense. he said he had fun playing here this season and honestly that’s reassuring to hear someone enJOYING their time on the island.

now to onto less popular guys, but all goodies! we’ll start with cal clutterbuck (#15). most notoriously known on tumblr this past season for injuring both brock boeser and auston matthews. he’s AGGRESSIVE. we need it tbh. plus, he’s not hard to look at. if you’re into older men with great facial hair and tattoos… he’s your dreamboat.

ok next we have in my opinion one of the most beautiful men ever, casey cizikas (#53). he’s just had a baby so he’s truly a ~daddy~ he’s another aggressive guy on the team which is beyond fabulous. i love that shit. he used to be matt martin’s #1 butt buddy but that’s long gone since matty has parted ways with the isles. i feel like zeeker had a pretty quiet season, a lot of ups and downs with an injury.

i would talk about brock nelson but i’m not a fan. andrew ladd also would get a mention in this but he royally blew it this season too. :-)

now onto defense.. this will be short since i’m super biased and only really want to discuss like… 3 of them… nicholas leddy (#2). i really love him for some reason and honestly he’s FAST. he can bring shit into the zone and is fabulous, but he definitely had a rough season. started off great and then it went into a serious decline along with the team :’) i still love him so so so so so much. like if you know anything about me it’s my unnatural love for leds.

then we have leds’ liney.. JOHNNY MUTHA FUCKING BOYCHUK (#55). honestly i would never look at this man the wrong way in fear for my life. recently he fought nolan patrick so he has my FUCKING HEART. he’s a good fucking guy who has dealt with an injury all season and he’s finally having surgery so here’s to hopefully a better year next season.

next is RYAN PULOCK (#6). WATCH THE FUCK OUT FOR HIS ONE TIMERS. HE IS A BEAST. a 10/10 guy in my opinion. he had a 5 point game against the bl*ckh*wks which was INCREDIBLE because he’s the first rookie defenseman in team history to get five points. he’s still young and fresh to the nhl… so he’s probably going to pop the fuck off next season…you heard it here first, a @nyisles hot take.

honarable d-men to mention - thomas hickey, BRANDON DAVIDSON… he’s attractive otherwise can’t say much since he was acquired at the trade deadline, cal dehaan who was hurt :’(, scott mayfield who seems like a good guy (also like scary if you ever were to fight) and adam pelech… very quiet guy.

not discussing goaltending because i don’t like jaro and griess isn’t that great.

:-) i definitely left out guys but i tried to give you the need 2 know info. if you read this whole thing….message me LOL.

Thanks!!

#New York Islanders #john tavares #johnny boychuk #nick leddy #anthony beauvillier #jordan eberle #ryan pulock #cal clutterbuck #casey cizikas #anders lee #mathew barzal #mat barzal #josh bailey #asks

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thelibraryatgatsbys · 3 years

Text

Here we have a story that I started recently.

I'm probably not going to finish it. It's called Sonic Boom, and I don't know why I started it, it never really made me happy to write.

(also, since it's unedited, it has "elephants" in it to mark where I wanted to change something/wanted to summarize something and come back to go into detail later)

Elephant: make it so the aliens wanted to kind of keep their visit on the down low, so they could just come, have fun, and not arouse a government after them.

Soleil checked her compass again, making sure she was still headed due east. The valley outside of town was overgrown, filled with tumbled over, half rotted logs from the old building projects long since abandoned. It held a charm in the daylight, but it was just spooky at night, in the mist.

She had been to this place often, but in foggy conditions a compass never hurt anyone. She clambered up onto one of the logs, plotting her path up the steep incline, before beginning. Sometimes she had to jump from log to log, sometimes scramble up wet dirt and leaves, and sometimes edge along creaking branches until the top of the hill came into view.

It could almost be counted as a cliff, but not quite.

Sitting in the pine needles at the edge, she looked into the valley below her, where the usual Saturday crowd gathered around the big tree.

Every kid, 10 through 20 knew about this place. It was miraculous this place was safe for ten year olds, most teen hangouts weren't, but there was something about this place that kept people kind. People looked out for each other in here.

She trotted down the hill towards the huge oak tree with a campfire a few feet from the base, repositioning her backpack. The clearing was fenced with thick blackberry and pieces of discarded wood and plastic from town. A few picnic tables and benches littered the clearing, with two fire pits. The oak tree held half a dozen treehouses, two of which had roofs and could act like houses in a pinch.

She waved to one of the kids at the fire, who saved back.

"Hey, Sully!" The kid said.

"What's up Vinny?"

"Not much is up with me, but Ed needs to see you. He told me to tell you when I saw you."

She frowned. When Ed wanted you, there was normally something wrong.

"Well, I'll see you round, then, Vinny. Take care."

Vinny saluted, grinning.

Into the many tree houses, she climbed towards the one at the top, the most elaborate one, the common haunt of her good friend Edward, the scientist.

He kept track of it all. If there was something you needed to know, from cryptozoology to history to aesthetics to Mario Kart strategies, he knew it. And he had a good bit of it recorded in his diaries. What a weirdo. She loved him.

Inside, she found him staring intently out his telescope.

"What's up, Eddie?"

He looked up, nervous.

"Well, come see for yourself."

She shrugged, stealing around piles of books.

Looking in the telescope, she didn't immediately see something wrong but then it caught her eye. A bright green spot in the center of Orion's belt.

"What does it mean?" She asked?

"Well, it doesn't mean iminent doom, don't worry, but... I can't say I know exactly what it is."

"So like...."

"It's not an asteroid or something that's going to strike the earth. It's getting closer to us, but it's slowing down at a rate that if it hit Earth at all, it wouldn't hurt us."

"Well that's good. Do you have any theories?"

"Well, yeah, but it's kinda dumb."

She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow.

"No it isn't. You figured this out before any of the nasa people did, your idea about what it is isn't dumb."

Ed rubbed the back of his neck.

"Well, it kinda seems like.. A ship."

"Like, aliens?"

"Yeah. I think that thing is aliens."

"That is so, so cool. You think they're coming here?"

"Well they're on a direct tragectory course for earth. Probably."

(ELEPHANT: this story is gonna be tough cuz it's the 'independant kids doing their own thing but with their parents' support 2000s era w/ whole computer labs and stuff outta bedrooms. Y'know, the stuff you never did cuz you were busy being feral in the woods. It'll take some effort to make this feel natural)

"Alright, so we might meet aliens in a while. How long till they get here?"

"This is the first night I've observed them, so I'll have to take some more calculations. But, given the rate of size increase based on tonight's observations alone, I'd say... Maybe a week."

Soleil smiled, pushing the hair out of her face.

"A week. Gonna maybe meet aliens in a week. That is so cool, Ed. You're so cool."

"Uhh, well, th-thank you! You're cool too!"

Two days later, Soleil got a call from Ed smack dab in the middle of telephone hour. She was on the phone with Darby, who was

discussing the dance from last week, the nerd con coming up, some new kittens, etc. She was expecting a call from Rin in a couple minutes, and was working on a mutual coding project over a chat

room on some server on her computer when the line in the dining room rang. Nobody ever called the dining room phone unless it was important, and nobody ever answered the dining room phone buy

her. Darby was wrapping up anyway, so she said a giggly goodbye and hung up, heading curiously to the dining room.

On the other end, Ed's voice was excited.

"We were right! We were right, it's allens!"

"Yo, that's amazing! How can you tell?"

"W-well, they talked to me."

She stared at the roof, dumbfounded.

"Well," He continued, "not to me specifically, but to the people of earth. And since I'm the only one listening, I heard jt! They said they came in peace."

"Pfft well I should hope so. Do they have a mission or something?"

"That's why I'm calling you. They wanna know stuff about earth.

They're landing to observe earth for a while. We're video calling tonight, and I wanted you to be there. Come to my house at 7:45, there'll be a few other kids there, but not many. Some trusted fellow

scientists. Will you come?"

"Oh yeahl I wouldn't miss it for the world. I'll wear some nice clothes."

"Thanks Sully, I can't wait to see you there."

The call ended, and she did a little happy dance. Aliens. Real aliens.

And a nerd party. She didn't know which one was better.

That evening, she walked through the suburb towards the DeLorean house in a light blue skirt with puffy sleeves and jeans with flowers emproidered on them.

A few of the nerds were standing out in the yard, with capri suns, discussing nerd things.

Ed opened the door when she knocked, ushering her in with a smile.

"Thanks again for coming, Sully, this is going to be great."

"You know it."

They hung out for about half an hour until 7:40 rolled around, when they and the assembly of kid scientists moved to Ed's room.

He turned on the TV, messing with the large computer and keyboard beside it, until the screen buzzed to life.

They waited in an eager silence for the clock to strike 7:45.

Suddenly, the fuzz on the screen cleared, showing the insides of a ship.

The aliens were adorable. They looked mammalian, and their body looked like a cross between a meercat and a swan, with a smart head sitting atop am elegantly curved neck. Their bodies long but compact, with two pairs of both arms and legs, with tufts of dull orange fur over the elbows, knees, knuckle, chest, ears, and a tuft on the tail. They had no nose other than two slits, and their eyes were big, red, trusting and inquisitive. (ELEPHANT: LOOK OVER THE DESCRIPTION OF THE ALIEI wasNS BETTER, MAYBE REWORK IT)

"Greetings, human, we meet face to face at last." The one facing them directly said, his voice like helium. He sounded as though he were very excited, but was trying to hide it to be professional.

"Greetings, my friend. My name is Edward DeLorian, and these are my friends/colleagues."

"I am Hilarion, and these are my classmates. We have been sent from our home planet for our first unchaperoned school trip, and we request permission to visit Earth."

"Are you sure Earth is the safest place to visit?"

"Indeed. Extensive tests on our world's show that there is nothing there capable of harming us."

Soleil muttered, "wow," under her breath, before Edward continued."

"I don't know if I can give you permission, I'm not in charge."

"Well it's your planet, right? According to our laws, any lawful citizen of the planet that has not committed major criminal activity and harbors no ill will against the chancellor may give an alien permission to land. Is that the way it is there?"

The humans muttered to each other, trying to decide how to answer. Finally, Soleil spoke.

"Since it's rare we get alien visitors, we don't have a real rule about how they should land. But the way you have described things leads me to believe it would be perfectly fine for you to land here. Is there an adult that you can contact and vouch for you if something does go wrong?"

"Indeed, we can contact any of our parents at any time."

"Excellent. I'll allow mr. Edward to continue discussing from here."

Ed mouthed "thank you" to Sully before continuing.

"A-ah yes, you'll need a place to land, right?"

"Yes. We'd like to meet you, so we request permission to land near your current location."

"Granted. There is a large abandoned field that should be big enough."

"Hmm, ok, we're locked onto your location now and... Alright, yes, I see the field you mean. That will work splendidly. At our current rate of acceleration, we will arrive in five earth days roughly."

"Ok, that sounds just fine. Is there anything we can assist you with?"

"At this moment, no. I must thank you, Edward and company, for being so helpful with this. We look forward to meeting you soon."

The scientists smiled and nodded, remaining professional until the call ended, when they all screamed in excitement.

A similar thing happened aboard the spaceship. As soon as the call ended, the fluffy creatures lept from their seats, buzzing around the room, making excited, happy chittering noises.

Hilarion and his littermate, Gi, danced around each other.

They were going to meet real live humans in five days.

"How was your day, sweetie?" Soleil's mom asked as she set a plate of mashed potatoes on the table.

Sully scooped up an eye raising amount of mashed potatoes, with a bit of chicken and steamed vegetables to go with it.

"It was good. Like I said yesterday, we talked to Aliens, and they're coming earth to learn stuff. As long as it's ok, the scientists and I are going to camp out behind the baseball park for the next four to five days so we can make sure we welcome them to earth. Is it ok if I do that?"

"Of course, kiddo, you pack a mean punch, I bet you'll be fine."

Her mother whirled, giving her father "the look."

Dad looked up from his book.

"What I mean she does."

" What your father means is yes, you may. As long as you are with other people that we've met and there's a phone somewhere around, you can stay out in the field."

"Aww, thanks mama! Hey, would you two like to come with us?"

Her mother looked at her, considering.

"Out in... The brush. For several days. To see... Aliens."

"Well, maybe you could just tag along with me the night they show up. That way you don't have to spend so much time outdoors."

Her mother nodded, looking at her father, who smiled and nodded as well.

"We'll be there, kiddo." Her dad said.

The next day, Soleil stood, hands in pockets, in front of a brownstone house in the city. She was in need of the services of the occupant's son. This was the Rodger household, where the ever mysterious Rabbit lived. Rabbit, who's read name was probably Chad but never told anyone, was a 17 year old working from home, in the possession of a truck, which Soleil hoped to aquire the services of.

It was always hot in the city, so she took her hands out of her pockets. She wore a neon yellow tank top with an elephant on it, and some cargo shorts, and was still too hot. She put up with a flannel around her waist, since it would be cold that evening. The summer light filtered in from between the buildings and trees, in a beautiful way that only summer could manage.

Inside, she heard someone stomping down the stairs, and the door opened.

And again, there was about no way his real name wasn't Chad. Baggy pants, orange t-shirt over a white long sleeved shirt, perfect, bleached blond hair, and the most amazing sunglasses ever. Something straight out of star trek.

"W'sah little dude?"

"Quite a bit, actually, but it's somewhat confidential. Are you still offering taxi services?"

"'course."

"How much would it be to privately taxi say, a dozen ner- erh, scientists to and from the suburb for four days?"

"'bout a hundred bucks, I guess. Them lil scientists planning a mad scientist con someplace?"

"That'd be fun. We should do that someday, but for now, until you're on board with the project, I can't spill a word."

Rabbit considered.

"Done. For a big project, I take 25% up front."

"Naturally."

She fished the money out of her flannel pocket, handing it over.

"Meet me in an hour at the DeLorean household. That's 1503 Duck Street."

"Sure thing, lil dude. The truck's got seating for 8, if we're trynna keep the law."

"Oh, certainly. "

On schedule, Rabbit turned up on the front steps an hour later, as the gaggle of 10-14 year olds with camping gear prepared to pile into the truck bed, which was converted into a miniature seating area that could hold 6 people with plenty of footspace. They decided to go six at a time, saving cab space for more camping gear.

Two trips, a long winded explanation of the project, and dozens of bad jokes later, Ed and one other scientist, a black haired girl named Daisy, were trying to make a fire at the chosen campground. The mobile lab was set up nicely behind them, and Soleil pulled a cooler out of the back of the truck, putting it beside the fire pit.

They were tucked in between a big oak tree and the tall net that kept stray baseballs in the ballpark next door, with town just barely visible. The grass in most of the field was tall and unkempt, but under the trees it was almost nonexistent.

Soleil watched them struggle with the fire for a couple of minutes, before offering assistance.

Rabbit walked over to the now burning fire, hands in pockets.

"So, dudes, you need any like... Adult supervision up in here? Cuz... I'm not busy, and this sounds super fun, so like. I. Could stay here if you want."

Soleil looked up, sly.

"How much?"

"Well I guess this time it can be free, I mean... Major scientist bivouacs can be exempt."

She glanced at Ed, who was smiling.

"Of course you can stay."

And so the group settled in for the night. Rabbit produced an electric guitar, realizing too late to save face that he couldn't use it without, well... *Electricity*.

(ELEPHANT: they agree on location and time, and then the humans recruit an older kid with a truck to drive them around and get stuff set up. Sully invites her parents, and they agree to come. Edward invites his parents, and they say they wish they could come, but there is s shallow spot in the fabric of reality and they need to be on guard against it. A scene where him and his dad have a small heart to heart about how his parents love him and respect his work, but need to work on other stuff. Good messages, y'know.

The night before the aliens arrive, the scientists, Sully, a few other kids, Sully's parents, and the truck boys, are in the field, and have a sleepover. The aliens *should* appear tomorrow night, but there's no perfect guarantee, so someone is guarding their little camp 24/7 for the next couple days.

But the aliens arrive right on schedule, at night on Saturday.

Last line is "what should we do first?")

#discarded writing #abandoned wip

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