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royallyprincesslilly · 3 years

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Title: Hibiscus Kisses {6}

Chris Evans x OFC Ajali Rambaue AU {Ah-Jah-Lee, Ram-Bow}

Warning: Plot, Cursing, Angst, Blood, Lots Of Words, Death

Words: 8.3k

Summary: Ajali decides on a rash decision to go on a Disney cruise, not for her love of Disney, but because she needs time to figure things out after things get even more complicated in her complicated life. She only expected peace, quiet, tropical drinks, and an overabundance of Disney songs. What she got was more than she bargained for when the cruise of a lifetime on the brand new ship Enchantment turned into a nightmare. The only saving grace is that she’s not the only one living through the nightmare. Can Ajali survive the test of a lifetime and the dangers ahead of her, and better yet, will she finally be able to live a little?

Note: Please feel free to tell me what you think. I’m super excited to explore this one with you all. 🤗

As always, thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this, please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG! ❤️❤️

I appreciate each and every one of your guys’ support and love!

***VERY Loosely Edited/Proofread***

**Interactive**

Previous Chapters: {1} | {2} | {3} | {4} | {5} |

You must have stood at the back of the yacht for a while because the shore and the docks were barely visible at this point. Every minute that ticked by you weighed your options of just diving in and swimming back. Everything you came up with seemed fine to deal with. So what if your hair got wet and you had to go through your four-hour wash and treat routine. So what if you attracted a shark or two, you could swim. So what if everything in your bag got drenched, you could replace them.

With the number of rebuttals you came up with, you should have jumped in already. The major con that was flashing in your head in neon lettering was you are an adult and not a child who ran away from difficult situations. The sound of laughter had you turning around to see Chris laughing with Harper. He looked like he didn’t have a care in the world. Scoffing, you turned back around and crossed your arms.

Almost a minute later you felt Chris standing beside you. “If you want to swim back I’m sure you could make it.”

If looks could kill, the one you gave him should have done it. All you had to do was push him overboard to a watery grave. Chris lifted his hands to show his no threat status and that was when you walked away.

“All right folks. It’ll be another forty minutes before we arrive at the best fishing spot in all of the islands. It’s my little secret. In the meantime, you have a choice of activities. You can go down below and marine watch, stay on deck and do some pictures and sights, or go into the bubble where you are surrounded by the ocean. It is optimal for fish watching. I’ll let you folks know when we’ve arrived.”

You nodded and walked toward the steps that would lead below deck. You fully intended to get as far away from him as possible. Ignoring the way he turned to you as if he had something to say, you carefully went down the steps and to the back of the yacht. There you found what Harper was referring to. It looked like an actual bubble with two seats. Once you sat down you saw why this was mentioned as the most sought-after experience. You really felt like you were alone under the ocean and not apart from it but one with it.

You watched a school of yellow and black striped fish swim by and a small box popped up to the right of the screen with a still photo of the fish and a few listed facts.

“Moorish Idol fish. These fish commonly inhabit tropical to subtropical reefs and lagoons. These fish usually travel alone or in small schools. These fish mate for life and adult males show aggression to one another.”

Your jaw dropped. You hadn’t expected it to be high-tech. In front of you, you grabbed the flipbook and flicked through it to see a variety of sea creatures. The announcement of another fish brought your attention back to the ocean before you and that is where your eyes remained. Creature after creature swam by and up to the glass. Each one was announced and described. As they came up, you took pictures of the pretty ones you liked ready to show them to your family when you returned home.

You were so wrapped up in fish watching that you didn’t notice that you weren’t alone until it was too late. Chris slipped into the seat beside you, startling you. Your harsh glare landed on him with the force of fifty blades behind it. He wasn’t looking at you though, his eyes were glued to the water and passing reef life.

“Oh wow, Nemo and Dory,” Chris exclaimed inching closer to the glass.

That was all it took for your attention to go right back, and lo and behold there were Dory and Nemo lookalikes.

“Wow.”

Mirroring Chris’s actions you slid to the edge of the seat as well and touched the glass. They were pretty in animation but that had nothing on real life. The orange and blue were so striking up close.

“They’re even best friends in real life,” Chris quietly said.

For the next few minutes neither of you spoke again you were too wrapped up in looking at all the fish that passed by one after the other. When you’d reached a part of the ocean where life was scarce, you sat back and crossed your arms.

“Can I please explain?”

You sighed and dropped your head back to rest on the hard headrest, keeping your eyes trained in front of you.

“I promise I’m not this asshole you have me pegged as in your head.”

“So you don’t go around trying to charm women out of your panties and in your bed for notches on your bedpost?”

“God no!”

You rolled your eyes not believing one word.

“I solemnly swear that I am up to nothing but good,” Chris replied holding up three fingers.

A smirk teased your lips at the Harry Potter line he’d just repurposed for his own use mixed with the Hunger Games salute. You shook your head unable to ignore how adorkably stupid he was.

“You know those two have nothing to do with the other, right?”

Chris slyly smiled and shrugged. “It’s sorta my thing. Sleeping around and I have nothing to do with each other also.”

You snorted and shook your head. He was smooth.

“You’re real smooth, I’ll give you that.”

He sighed and turned his body more to you. “It’s a misunderstanding,” Chris began.

“Let me stop you there. Ninety-nine point nine percent of the time anyone starts off with that, chances are there was no misunderstanding,” you dryly informed.

“That high? Okay, then I fall in the point one percent.”

You glared at him again but he didn’t back down, he held your glare but behind his eyes, you saw nothing but sincerity rather than the hostility you had spearing behind yours. When you didn’t object, he opened his mouth to speak again but you looked away.

“There’s no need.”

“Why won’t you let me explain?”

You knew why. If he explained and the explanation seemed plausible and he looked sincere the chances of you believing it would be eighty percent and that was high. You would then continue spending time with him because you did enjoy his company and conversation and eventually sleep with him. Maybe. Letting him explain was step one that would lead to a series of missteps. Then you’d find yourself in a situation come the end of the cruise when both of you went your separate ways. There were too many what-ifs in the air.

“Ah, I think I know. If you let me explain then this image you have of me being a womanizer who is after fast and quick ass, who would come on a cruise to chase women for a notch would be debunked. If it is debunked, then you’d have to admit that you liked spending time with me and enjoyed yourself. Then you’d have to admit that what might have happened if my phone didn’t ring wouldn’t have been a one-off. You’d have to face the possibility that there might be something here past our physical attraction.”

Well damn, you thought. For a moment your thoughts betrayed the steely animosity in your eyes and you knew your shock shone through. You quickly looked away from him and tapped into your inner Elsa while watching a school of white fish pass by. You could feel him beside you staring at you as if trying to crack your resolve. You fought against him and kept your breathing slow and steady.

“You don’t have to tell me I’m right. I know I am and it’s not because I’m a cocky prick. It’s because—,” Chris paused then sighed heavily before he continued. “I liked spending time—with you. Like really liked it and this was before anything physical happened. You’re funny and fun and not phased by this thing called fame that is wrapped around me. You probably don’t understand it, but that’s something refreshing and attractive to me.”

Unable to resist any longer, you sneakily glanced at him while wondering if any part of what he’d just said was possibly true.

“Before I came on this cruise to get away from my life—run away from my life.”

Your interest piqued. Why was he running away? Didn’t he have everything?

“My friend, the one you heard on the phone was teasing me about the reason. I didn’t want to give him the real deal so I kept quiet which led him to the conclusion that it had something to do with a woman. It didn’t but he thought it. So the phone call was him stating his opinions again, his way of life. Now I’m not condoning what he said at all but that’s his life. I didn’t come here for any of that and that night wasn’t about that for me.”

“What was it about?”

You blurted the question without a thought and once you’d asked, you regretted it. The answer wouldn’t do you any good.

Sighing, you looked back out to the water. “Don’t answer that.”

And he didn’t. The silence stretched and your thoughts did as well. You contemplated his explanation and the probability of any of it being true. He had all the reason to lie right now, but the more you thought about it the more you guessed he didn’t need to lie being who he was. He could have just shrugged and put you on the side that wasn’t a fan of his and kept it moving.

“Look,” Chris said shoving his phone to you with the text exchange between him and someone named Austin was visible.

“I know what it is to be distrustful of strangers or everyone really and proof means a lot to me. Since the burden of proof is on my side, here it is.”

You read through the exchange from a little over a week ago and sure enough, his friend Austin was scum. The irrefutable proof showed those sentiments were his and even showed Chris admonishing him for those sentiments and setting him straight. The banter that continued was Austin teasing him about his good boy behaviors. From the texts, you could tell they were close, and you could also tell that Austin was the asshole between them and Chris was possibly a good guy.

Groaning, you looked away and dropped your head back to the headrest again. You did not need this. Sighing, you closed your eyes and listened to the silence. Several minutes passed by where neither of you spoke and just when you were going to Harper’s voice came in over the ship’s intercoms.

“We have some dolphin action up here if anyone’s interested.”

“Dolphins!”

Your head snapped to Chris hearing the uncharacteristically excited squeal. Did he really just turn into a Powerpuff girl? Chris leapt to his feet and began walking toward the steps leaving you there to wonder just what kind of man he was.

A few moments later, you emerged from below and walked to the railing to see a dolphin jump out of the water in the distance.

“Oh my god!”

At that moment you felt your smallness in the world. There were so many other creatures that were bigger and yet humans always thought themselves so superior. It was baffling.

“It’s not always like this, they must be here to greet you folks,” Harper said as another jumped out and one swam up.

You dropped down to your knees and peered over the railing and marveled at the aquatic beauty.

“They’re so friendly.”

Just then, a dolphin popped up showing its long bottlenose and black eyes and in the same breath, a stream of water came at you drenching you. In your shock, you just sat there while Chris and Harper heartily got their laugh in at your expense. To add insult to injury the dolphin even sounded like it was laughing. Who could be mad though? It was too cute. You looked across the way and saw Chris snapping pictures of you with a wide smile on his face. Being alarmed, snapping at him, or even telling him to delete the pictures would have all been acceptable reactions but you didn’t react in any of those ways. Instead, you brought your attention back to the dolphins in the water. Let him take his pictures, you thought.

Twenty minutes later you were sitting at the side of the boat with your legs dangling over the edge enjoying the breeze, sun, and tranquility being on the ocean brought. There was something so serene about being in the middle of a giant body of water with creatures of plenty underneath its depths while there was nothing in sight for miles and miles. It was peaceful. The pictures you took of the horizon, the sky, and the water were breathtaking. You knew they’d make great printouts to add to your walls when you returned home. When you realized your battery was running low, you dug into your bag for one of your four fully charged portable chargers and slipped your phone into one of the many waterproof pouches you had your belongings secured inside.

Your sister liked to make fun of you for how well you prepared for things. When you went out for every day, your purse contained every possible thing you would and could need for the day. You didn’t like being unprepared for whatever you came across and that included something as minor as rain all the way to the major things like abductions. You’d been the butt of many jokes but you didn’t care.

Glancing to the other side of the yacht, you watched as Chris followed the instruction of Harper as he practiced a variety of sailor’s knots. It didn’t look like he was a novice though. You could tell he’d done it a few times before. Sooner than you could look away, Harper caught you then motioned you over. It would have been rude to ignore him, so you walked over to them and sat before them.

“Here, try your hand at sailor’s knots,” Chris suggested holding out a length of rope to you.

“It’s not as easy as it looks,” he followed up as you took it.

“You look like you’ve done it before.”

“Once or twice,” he replied.

You studied the knots surrounding Chris for a few moments then took a stab at it. From the beginning you messed it up but didn’t quit, instead, you undid it and tried again. You didn’t quit easy. That was probably why you were in your current relationship predicament. A few minutes and several failed attempts later, you held up the finished product that looked identical to Chris’s.

“So you have one of those brains where you can see something and replicate it?”

You scoffed and shrugged. “Kind of. I just pick some things up quickly.”

Chris nodded and held out another length of rope and pointed to a different pattern. “Try this one.”

You knew it was a test. You grabbed the rope and studied the new pattern that was a lot more intricate than the first. Though it was more intricate it took you a shorter amount of time to start. When you held it up for them to see, less time had passed and you hadn’t made one mistake.

“Wow,” Harper exclaimed before he chuckled.

“What can I say, I’m pretty amazing,” you joked.

Both men laughed but didn’t debate the fact.

“We’re coming up on the cove that gives me the best fish. Of course, we’re catching and releasing, but it won’t dampen the experience,” Harper informed.

Within a few short minutes, Harper had pulled up to one of the most beautiful coves you’d ever seen. The water was aquamarine crystal blue. It was so crystal like you could see several feet into it. The giant rocks that created a maze had moss growing off the tops of them that were lush green and created a nice contrast of colors. If you could have picked up this view and brought it home with you, you would have. It was that breathtaking.

You weren’t the only one thinking it, Chris was a few feet away snapping every picture he could get, only he didn’t look like a tourist. He looked like a professional travel photographer. When he dropped to one of his knees to get a different angle you just leaned against the railing and watched. The sun beaming down on him gave his hair a reddish hue which looked good on him. It even accentuated the freckles peppered along his arms. You remembered what was under that shirt of his at that second. You remembered the muscles, the hair, and the tats. It was an unexpected sight but one that you wouldn’t mind seeing again. Instantly you kissed your teeth and slapped your forehead.

“Cut it out.”

“Did you say something?”

Chris was looking at you with a quizzical expression with his camera still posed up.

“Nope, nothing.”

He didn’t look like he believed you, but slowly he went back to snapping his pictures while you tried to create even more distance between you.

“Get a grip, Ajali. It hasn’t been that long. You’re not affection starved either. Get—a—grip.”

You took a few slow breathes and focused on the scene before you. You now understood why many people said this island was a top destination for vacations.

“And we’re ready. You both said you’ve fished before, right?”

You walked toward Harper’s voice then saw he had fishing rods, buckets, gloves, and all the other supplies lying at his feet.

“I’ve done some fishing,” Chris offered before both sets of eyes landed on you.

“Never.”

“It’s not hard, I promise,” Harper assured bending for the rods. He held one out to Chris and the other to you.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll explain everything and its function. If either of you have any questions let me know.”

Harper walked a few feet away leading the two of you to a shaded portion of the yacht. Once there, he explained everything in detail. He showed the parts of the rod, showed how to put things together, explained their function, and then went on to the different kinds of bait that were available. When he began demonstrating how to hold the rod and posture you paid close attention and imitated what he did. You knew though this was something that would take some getting used to.

After twenty minutes, the three of you were in your spots ready to cast your rods. You watched Harper cast his first and it looked so fluid. You could tell he’d done this thousand of times. Then you watched Chris and though his movements weren’t as fluid, it looked like he was far from a beginner. You sighed and tried your best. The rod was heavy in your hands and affected your ability to control it and cast it perfectly. Glancing at Harper, he shrugged.

“Good enough. You got it where it needs to go.”

A soft chuckle escaped both you and Chris.

“What kind of catch do you get out here?”

Harper proceeded to explain the different kinds of fish he’d caught to Chris while you partially zoned them out. It didn’t take long for you to understand why people liked fishing. It was calming. You could leisurely do it while letting your mind drift and worries float away. Thirty minutes later it was your line that tugged first. You yelped then squeaked as you panicked.

“What do I do?”

“Reel it in,” Harper said.

The resistance on the line was giving you a good arm workout. The struggle went back and forth. You doubted this was a baby.

“This thing is strong.”

“You got it, put your back into it like Ice Cube,” Chris teased making you narrow your eyes at him. That only made him laugh loudly.

A few more moments of struggle persisted until you’d yanked the rod backward tucking it out of the water, over your head, and flopping the fish right on the deck.

“Aaaah, oh my god! I caught a fish!”

You jumped up and down excited by your success. Forgetting any prior slights you jumped closer to Chris and bumped shoulders with him.

“I did it!”

“You did.”

“Good job. This here is a Barracuda,” Harper announced.

“Ooooh Barracuda,” you and Chris said in unison like the song. The two of you giggled together before returning your attention to Harper.

“It’s not an adult, but it’s no baby either. You want a picture?”

“Yes!”

You scurried to your bag and pulled out your phone then handed it to Chris before you dropped down to your knees and bent to the fish still flopping on the deck and smiled as you’d just won the lotto. Chris laughed and took the picture a few moments later. After the first few shots, you changed poses and let him take a few more. You watched as Chris’s face went from wide smiles to solemn confusion. Just as you were going to ask if your battery died, Harper spoke.

“Do you want to do the honors of releasing it?”

“You mean touch it?”

Harper nodded and you ardently shook your head. “No thank you. I hear Barracudas like to bite.”

Harper laughed at you as he effortlessly grabbed the fish by its tail then chucked it back into the ocean.

“It was just an adolescent.”

Chris held your phone out then walked back to his rod without a word. Slight confusion washed over you as you glanced at your screen to see one of the pictures he’d just taken, but your battery was fully charged.

For the next few hours Chris barely spoke to you, but when you glanced over to him, his eyes were always on you before he looked away once yours met his. It was a complete turnaround from before. It shouldn’t have bothered or affect you at all considering the reality of things, but it did bother you a little bit. Once the three of you had had your fill of catch and release the sun was beginning to disappear. Harper caught a huge Mahi Mahi, scaled and fillet it right in front of you, and Chris showing off his impressive knife skills. He then took the fish to prepare what he promised would be the best open ocean fish you’d ever had. You were excited to see the finished product.

Once Harper had disappeared down below you walked to the cooler, took out two beers, and walked over to Chris. He was sitting toward the back of the yacht watching the rocks in silence. You sat beside him, held out the beer, and waited for him to accept it. When he took it, he wasted no time twisting off the top and taking a mouthful. You sat there in silence looking over the view.

“Who knew a celebrity could fish.”

“I’m not a celebrity all day every day. I have hobbies and free time.”

“I take it fishing is a hobby?”

“When I can get to it. Sometimes I can’t go off the grid to do it.”

You nodded and tried to picture him at a lake with a rod and bucket of bait catching fish. A soft smile spread across your face before you gulped your beer.

“What’s one of your hobbies?”

Taking a deep breath you slowly released it. “Painting.”

“You’re artistic?”

“Depends what you call artistic. I can slap some paint on a canvas and call it a day.”

Chris looked at you for a few moments. “Somehow I find it hard to believe it’s as lowkey as you’re describing. I bet you’re a modern-day Frida Kahlo.”

You smiled and shrugged. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

Silence spread between you again and the two of you sipped from your bottles. It was a semi-comfortable silence.

“Are you departing tomorrow or staying on?”

You wanted to ask why he wanted to know but decided against it. “Staying on.”

Chris nodded. “Me too.”

Neither of you spoke again, instead, you watched the sky as the sun slowly began its descent behind the water. When Harper returned, the air filled with such a delicious scent that your belly grumbled loudly.

“And dinner is served. Harper placed the platter down on the table and you and Chris walked over to it. Your jaw dropped in amazement.

“What kind of kitchen do you have down there that can produce that?”

“I’ve had tons of practice.”

The Mahi Mahi that was alive less than two hours ago was now cooked to perfection and decorated with papaya, and a green salad.

“Wow, this looks mouthwatering,” Chris complimented.

“It’s nothing fancy, just some fish with a papaya and seaweed salad.”

“Seaweed salad? Oh wow. You utilize everything huh.”

“Absolutely. I can tell you more about using everything you can to not only survive but make good food,” Harper said motioning you both to sit down.

“No one is serving you here, help yourselves there’s plenty.”

The three of you dug in taking portions of fish and salad. When you took a bite of the Mahi Mahi your eyes rolled to the back of your head. “Oh my god. This is so good.”

“All it needed was some salt, pepper, and lemon. Sometimes keeping it simple is the best way.”

Chris moaned and nodded in agreement with you. “Delicious.”

As the three of you ate, Harper told you all about his travels and time living on his own on the ocean and how he’d learned to survive on little to nothing. It was so interesting to hear his story. From it, you gathered he was determined, creative, meticulous, and persevering. He didn’t let anything stop him and because of that mindset, he said he’d seen a lot of wonderful things and had a beautiful life. Listening to him speak about his loves and losses and how it was just him in the end you couldn’t help but think about your relationships.

When he began listing off the life lessons he’d learned you made note of each and every one of them. You always thought the stories of the older generations were interesting. While most of their experiences were relatable, a lot of it wasn’t because of the difference in eras. In Harper’s era being a bachelor past twenty-two was seen as taboo, yet that was the life he lived. When he spoke of when he did get married, it was to the one woman he’d loved since he was twenty years old. The woman he’d been stupid about and missed out on two times. From the way he spoke about her, you knew she was his soul mate.

Glancing to Chris who was sitting diagonally from you, part of you wondered how relatable Harper’s experiences were to him. You thought back to the very few tabloid and gossip stories you’d read about him but nothing jumped out to you. The tabloids didn’t focus on one woman that he was possibly seeing, they didn’t highlight any crazy behaviors with any of them or even highlight breakups. That was part of how you’d pieced him together. The lack of information left for such a wide breadth of possibilities to put together.

“Take it from me young ones, when you’re walking down a dimly lit street of soft lights, and you happen to find that anomaly among the sea that shines a different light and makes everything else pale in comparison you do whatever it takes to hold on to that. You fight for it and don’t let anything or anyone make you miss out on it. None of us are here for a long time. One day I’ll join my Angie and we’ll be together again. I welcome that day, until then I’ll keep drifting.”

The three of you sat there in silence, each of you lost in your thoughts and worries. Was Javii that anomaly or was he part of the sea and you’d been mistaken this whole time? When Harper returned to the helm to captain you back toward land you were secluded from the rest of them and still lost in your thoughts. It had been days since you left and you’d figured out nothing. If anything, you’d added more to your plate to think about. This was what you hadn’t wanted to do and that was the reason you chose this option rather than staying in the city.

You began to wonder again about the person who would be that anomaly that Harper spoke of. Rather than thinking of your experiences with Javii, your irresponsible mind thought of your run-ins with Chris. When you’d seen him in passing before boarding the ship you’d noticed him in the sea of people and amidst every chaotic thing happening around you. Your brain singled him out. It did it again when you saw him in passing topside when you’d met Genevieve and in the lounge club. It was something you hadn’t focused on before but now it was all you could think of.

“Get a freaking grip, Ajali!”

You smacked your head and dropped it down hunching over to hug your shins. Suddenly, you felt raindrops and those drops quickly turned into a waterfall.

“What the--,” you began holding your hands out confused how a downpour like this could just suddenly start.

Unexpectedly, the ship lurched hard to the left sending items on the deck toppling over including your beer bottle and the empty ones around it. Thinking quickly, you grabbed the railing to not tumble. Your grip was precarious thanks to the downpour and you knew you wouldn’t be able to hold on for long. Just as you were losing your grip, that was when the ship lurched again only this time to the right. With no time to grab for the railing, you tumbled over but before you hit the deck arms wrapped around you stabilizing you.

“I got you.”

Glancing up, you found Chris with rainwater pouring down his face and beard. He was holding on tightly to one of the metal poles while holding you tightly in his other arm. When the rocking went from deadly to manageable, Chris slowly let you go.

“Something must be wrong. Let’s go.”

Both of you took off on the search to find Harper. Every few seconds the rocking of the ship made items fall and roll. Chris was the one to pull you in every which direction to help you avoid the bigger items. When the ship bucked back you both slid back.

“Aaah, fuck!”

A sharp slice caught you off guard making you fall to the deck. Before Chris could react the boat rocked again sending you rolling back a few feet. When you slammed into one of the walls you shouted out in pain. Seconds later Chris was bent before you.

“Are you okay?”

His eyes quickly scanned your body and found your bleeding foot.

“Oh god.

Chris quickly pulled off his tropical printed shirt, ripped it, and began wrapping your foot.

“I’m sorry I have to do this tight to hopefully slow the bleeding,” Chris informed before he yanked the material, knotting it tightly around your injury. You tried to stifle your groan but it didn’t work. Your shout echoed across the open water and carried it competing with the downpour from the sky.

“I’m sorry. Ready to keep going? We’re almost there.”

You nodded and let Chris help you up. With his arm around your waist and yours draped over his shoulder the two of you hurried to the small enclosure where Harper was steering the boat. Every so often thanks to the falling and rolling items you and Chris looked like circus performers, jumping, dodging, and sliding out of harm's way. The way Chris managed to go into protector and alpha mode had you seeing a new side to him. Women did love a man who could take charge.

When you finally made it you found Harper passed out on the floor.

“Oh my god!”

Chris placed you along one of the windows so you could lean against it before he dropped down to his knees to check for a pulse. The longer it took him to turn to you, the more anxious you became.

“He has a pulse, but it’s thready. Looks like he may have hit his head,” Chris informed before he ripped the while men’s tank he wore at the hem and pressed it to Harper’s forehead.

On impact, Harper groaned then bolted up.

“Hey, take it easy,” Chris shouted trying to compete with the loudness of the ocean and the rain.

“No. Storm. We’re in a storm. We call these pop-ups. They happen all the time,” Harper explained as Chris helped him to his feet.

“If you knew it was coming--,” you began.

“I didn’t. No one can predict these and they’re increasingly more dangerous.”

The yacht whipped as if it were a leash sending all three of you knocking into whatever was closest. Immediately the pain that whisked through you had you screaming. That was the first time you thought you were going to die. All you could feel was pain, all you could hear was the sound of your heart beating. You slowly opened your eyes but couldn’t make anything out through the haziness. You couldn’t pinpoint where the pain in your body was coming from, it felt like it was everywhere.

“Ajali!”

Snapping your eyes open you saw Chris’s drenched and concerned face before you. “Open your eyes. Stay with me!”

It was a forceful command. One that you slowly obeyed. He helped you to a sitting position then turned back to Harper who was trying to stand to look over the built-in equipment of the ship.

“We’re way off course here. Somehow this storm has put us way off route. It makes no sense.”

“What does that mean?!”

“It means we’re drifting and not towards the islands. We’re drifting away.”

“What!”

Harper tried to turn the key for the engine but it stalled then sputtered. He tried it again and again but the result was the same.

“This is bad,” Harper added.

“What do we do?”

The ship rocked again but this tilt was so drastically different. It actually went so far on its side that it felt like you were going to capsize.

“We’re gonna tip over!”

Chris ran from the small room fighting against gravity’s pull to yank him over. Your first thought was he was leaving you.

“Hang on tight!”

Your scream was so loud you doubt you’d ever gone that high before. Terror gripped your heart and your entire life flashed before your eyes. You were certain you were done for. There was no way to make it out of this. You began mumbling but you didn’t know if what you said made any sense. A few seconds later, the ship dropped back into the water allowing you to remain top side up. You felt hands on your body and you opened your eyes to Chris shoving your arms in a bright orange life vest.

“I could only find one right now so it’s yours.”

“What—what about you?”

“I’ll be fine. Hold on tight.”

He spun around looking at Harper.

“I have to get below.”

Harper hurried out without another word and Chris turned back to you.

“I’m going to help him. Stay here.”

He made a move to leave and you grabbed his hand pulling him back to you.

“Don’t leave me.”

“I’m not. I’m going below with Harper. I’m sure he’ll need my help. I think it’s safer for you up here.”

You still held tight to his hand fear controlling your movements. Chris’s expression softened before he took a step close to you to hold you at the side of your neck to the base of your skull.

“I swear to you I won’t leave you, no matter what. We’re in this together. I will be back and we’ll laugh about this one day. For that day to come though we have to get through this and I have to help him down below. You’ll be safe. Hold on tight, stay low.”

You nodded and took a few breathes trying to psych yourself up.

“You got this,” Chris said before he pulled away and walked from you.

You closed your eyes and said a silent prayer hoping for him to come back and that his words weren’t bullshit.

The seconds seemed to slowly tick by and the minutes went on for lifetimes. Every jolt of the ship leveled you to a whimpering mess. You did just as Chris has instructed—kept low and held on for dear life. You didn’t care how numb your hand became from gripping the cold metal for so long you kept holding on. You didn’t care how cold you got from not only the ocean water but the rain and the strong wind gusts, you remained in your corner shivering refusing to come out. It didn’t matter how much the pain you felt intensified the colder you got you ignored it and kept whispering your silent prayers. You didn’t want to die. Not like this.

You heard something like a loud crack then the groaning of metal then the ship once again tilted. You screeched and tried to hold yourself to the railing but the further the boat tilted the harder it was to hold on.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

You screamed again and braced yourself to end up in the water under the boat, but instead of it tipping it once again dropped back onto the water’s surface.

“Oh my god!”

“Ajali, can you hear me?”

You whipped your head around trying to find where the voice was coming from without letting go of the railing. You were too scared.

“Ajali. Can you hear me!”

On the dashboard, you saw a red light flashing and guessed it was the radio. The only problem was for you to get to it, you’d have to let go and walk over to it. If the yacht tilted again you’d slid your ass out the room and off the boat. It was a risk.

“Ajali, pick up. We’re down here trying to fix the engine but we need you to turn her on for us. Can you do that?”

“Fuck!”

You slowly stood, fighting against your aching joints, bones, and muscles, and stood upright with most of your weight on your uninjured foot. You assessed the distance from where you were to the dashboard and knew slow and steady was the best way but you doubted you had that time. You took a deep breath and took three hops on your good foot toward the dashboard. When there was just one hop left to take the vessel rocked sending you off balance and smack dab into the glass with your face.

At this point, there was no part of your body that wasn’t in pain. A metallic irony taste filled your mouth and you knew you were bleeding. You had no idea from where though, your face was completely numb.

“Ajali!?”

Using the back of one hand, you wiped across your mouth and took another deep breath, and hopped to the dashboard throwing yourself across it and holding it for dear life. You took a few moments to calm yourself then grabbed the walkie.

“I’m here.”

You heard Chris exhale as if he was relieved. “Thank god, I thought something happened.”

“I’m fine,” you lied while trying to wipe away the blood that dripped across the dashboard.

“Try to turn the engine on.”

You twisted the designated key all that happened was a long exaggerated sputter then hiss.

“This time keep it turned don’t release it,” Chris suggested.

Doing as you were told, you waited and begged the engine to cooperate. When you heard a yell over the walkie you knew it wasn’t good.

“Damn it! There’s water in the engine. The only way to even begin to work on it is for it to dry out. That’s gonna be impossible during a storm. It’ll just keep flooding. We’re not moving. Damn it!”

There was a full range of banging over the walkie that only made you panic more.

“Can everyone not fall apart right now? Please. I’m terrified enough as it is,” you pleaded.

“Listen to my voice, it’s okay. We’re coming back up. We just have to weather the storm,” Chris said. His voice sounded like he was panicking but was also trying to showcase calm. You heard both.

Another loud crack echoed but it wasn’t on your end, it was over the walkie.

“What was that?”

The sound rang out again and everything went dead silent over the walkie before a loud crash of something breaking echoed out. At that moment the ship lurched again only this time the groan of metal was so loud it made you shake from fear. Garbled speech went in and out over the walkie alarming you.

“He—hello?”

The only response you got was the walkie dying.

“Hello? Hello?” You pressed buttons and turned switches not knowing what any of them did but hoping one of them brought communication back. Nothing helped though.

“Chris! Hello? Chris! Answer me goddamn it!”

You threw the corded walkie and dropped your head down and wailed. There was no hope at all you thought.

“I’m gonna die.”

You cried, finally letting out the angst and terror you were feeling. There was nothing positive about your current situation. You were in the middle of the ocean, practically alone while a storm was raging around you. people went missing like this, people died like this. You were suddenly so tired. A wave of water brushed against your feet but you didn’t think anything of it. You almost couldn’t lift your head.

“Ajali!”

As you lifted your head you saw Chris racing toward you.

“We have to get off this ship.”

“What!”

“The glass broke. We’re taking in water and sinking—fast!”

Hearing those words you found the energy to rise. “What do we do? Where’s Harper?”

“He’s lowering the life raft. Let’s go.”

Chris wrapped his arm around your waist and helped you along. When you made it down the steps to the deck you saw that it was completely filled with water.

“Oh my god.”

“It’s all right, I have you.”

He must have gotten tired of your hobbling because he scooped you up and hurried along treading through the now calf-level water.

“You’re freezing cold,” Chris mumbled.

“What are we gonna do?”

Chris reached Harper who looked as if he’d been through hell. From one glance you could tell he was hurt.

“Climb down first,” Harper said to you as Chris put you down.

You flinched as the saltwater wreaked devastation on your injured foot.

“I’m scared.”

“I know. it’s expected, you’re human. I need you to work through that fear though and climb down into the raft,” Chris reasoned.

You nodded and tried to get over not only the terror but also will your muscles to move through them being near frozen. You tried to move your legs in some coordination to climb over the railing but it was taking a bit of time on your own. Chris stepped closer and helped you to take the first step down the ladder. When your injured foot joined your other one it slipped and sent you down a few of them only stopping when you were able to get a grip on the metal.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m okay.”

You slowly went down the remaining steps until you got to the last one and saw you’d need to jump off the railing to land in the raft. You took a few breathes, hoped that you made it in the raft and not in the ocean, and jumped. Landing on your back you couldn’t relax. It hit you that you were now in a life raft about to drift to god knows where. From above you heard the two men arguing back and forth over who should go next. When you saw Chris was the one climbing down the ladder you knew Harper had won.

It didn’t take him nearly as long as it took you. A few seconds later he’d jumped in next to you. The strong scent of gas immediately hit you.

“You smell like gas.”

Chris smelled himself then his eyes widened and pointed back to the ship. The two of you looked up just in time to see Harper bringing back up the ladder.

“What’re you doing? Come down!”

“No can do brother. This here is my ship and a captain always goes down with his ship.”

Your eyes widened in horror. He couldn’t be serious.

“That’s not funny Harper. The gas is leaking, there is no saving it. It isn’t worth your life. Come on, there’s time for you to save yourself too,” Chris rebutted.

“I’m long past saving,” Harper said lifting his shirt to show the large shard of glass that was sticking through his abdomen. It looked like it had gone right through him. You knew that if it were removed the chances of him living were zilch.

“Oh my god,” you mewled before clamping your hand over your mouth to stifle the wail that followed.

“Harper--,” Chris began but never finished.

“I always knew I’d die on this ship and that’s all right. I’m at peace with it. If I get in that raft with you I’d be doing you a disservice. Sharks would be on your tail in no time.”

Harper flung a pack over the railing into the raft.

“I’ve already pre-packed all the emergency packs in the raft. They’re in the side compartments as well as underneath the zipped platform of the bottom. These are things you’ll need wherever you wash up.”

Another bag followed the first and landed on the raft. “This one is some rations. Remember to conserve the water. You can survive without food longer than water.”

You cried louder while using your hand to muffle as much of the sound as you could.

“Come on man,” Chris pleaded.

Four more bags followed including your backpack. By then you’d fully lost it and had ventured into a nervous breakdown.

“Inside the raft, there is a transponder. I am going to set off the homing beacon on my ship it’ll give search and rescue some idea of where things went wrong. They’ll be able to follow the signal and rescue you no matter where you are.”

Harper bent forward and groaned. He must have been in so much pain you thought to yourself. On its own, your hand gripped the ripped hem of Chris’s tank and held it tightly. Chris glanced back at you and you saw the same anguish you felt.

“I’m sorry about this folks, I really am.” He paused and shook his head before he continued. “You have each other though.”

An explosion shook the vessel and lit up the sky behind Harper.

“That’s my cue. Get outta here. I’ll do my part. Remember live your way, it makes death a peaceful conclusion.”

With that Harper hobbled away holding the railing.

“Go!”

He disappeared from view leaving the two of you sitting in the raft, in the pouring rain heartbroken and terrified. Another explosion erupted and Chris sprang into motion yanking the cord that controlled the motor startup. He yanked it once, then twice until it sparked alive on the third try. You both looked to the ship unsure what to do. The decision had been made for you, there was nothing either of you could do but go.

Slowly the raft began to drift away from the sinking ship and neither of you could peel your eyes away. Two more explosions boomed and then Harper’s voice echoed out.

“I’m coming, Angie!”

“Oh my god,” you whispered dropping your head to the surface of the raft. Your cry was loud and showcased the tragic sadness before you.

You watched on before another and final grand explosion ripped the ship apart sending parts every which way.

“Fuck!”

Chris leapt for you throwing his body over yours using himself as a shield to protect you. The sound of flying metal around you only made you scream more and more. Still, Chris didn’t come off of you, he kept his body over yours while maneuvering the rod steering of the raft. After the sound of flying metal subsided and the warmth of fire died down Chris rolled off of you. There was nothing to be seen except the fire from the explosion that was quickly being extinguished as the rest of the ship sank to the depths of the ocean.

“Oh my god, Harper.”

“God,” Chris groaned out, dropping his head down. “Rest in peace.”

There it was. Death. It was staring you right in the face and you feared it hadn’t had its fill quite yet. Your sobs returned and soon they were the only sounds traveling across the water, along with the motor. Neither of you spoke for a few minutes as you both tried to digest everything that had just happened and how everything had gone so wrong.

“What’re we going to do?”

It was a question asked just above a whisper. A question that held so much uncertainty, a question that also brought so much fear with it. What were you going to do?

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

***If you want to be tagged/untagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!***

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

Tag List:

@chaneajoyyy @caplover22 @caramara3 @southerngracela @cyntgefel01 @vannahvannahhh @lorainnebabyy @patzammit @yourwonderbelle @pennywisesmistress @kelbabyblue @bugngiz @kikimiyazaki @toniilaney @areubeingserved @chaos-crusader @thinkxlovexloud @cocothewriter @periodtcevans @bellaamor88 @mack-jay @titty-teetee @pananegra @wellthirsted @sup3rn0va13 @nova3312 @hello-therree @valkyriesnymph @lo-cheu @squeackygee @niyashell @allmonstersxarehuman @zsuzstyina @peggy-potts @amelatonin @lvlyab @sullyosully @taylorveebee @renesmeeharelds @capslut2014 @ilovehatembj @thelittlemoistcarrot @sarcastic-sunshines @taylorveebee @a-dizzle777 @jesseswartzwelder @90sinspiredgirl @allnamesicouldthinkofweretaken @choices97 @jd-now-jq @actorinfluence @chrisgalore @rynabarnesrogers @ab-baybay @motivation-idontknowher @builtalongthewaysi @cleothegoldfish @momobaby227 @drsunshine97

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@unknownmystery22 @thatcrazymarvelfan @mizcaptainwidow @angrybirdcr @cherrystainedlipsbaby @marvelfansworld @fanfictionaffair @kemkem101 @blowmymbackout @almostpurelysmut @blackgurlkillinit @simply-heaven@impossiblegiantrebelbasketball @renfrewscorner @toni9 @reignandrain @choices97@phreshouttherunwaaayy @heladoom @alyxkbrl @evemej @zeedaye @queensevansackles @rosey1981 @laketaj24 @mauvecherie @minton131 @trillistb @night-of-the-living-shred @chrisevansfanfic @scoop93535 @miss-jackson500 @purplehairgawdess @ollieveracity @maddeningmayhem @what-is-your-plan-today @dumbchick @maeleeme @cleothegoldfish @tantricevans @evermcfearless @richonne4life @briellableu @amennariee @rynabarnesrogers-reading @partypoison00 @chrissbabybunny @brwnsugababe @islanddgal @sadishdelray @queenoftheworldisdead @queenshikongo3 @thefuckingluxury @surmya1907 @coolbakeryprunetoad @naturalthrone22 @wonderlandfandomkingdom @starlite-starbrite @offrostandstarlight @thejeneralvicinity @littlepreciousangel @doublesidedscoobysnacks

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***There are a few that are bold that I tried to tag but your @ wasn’t coming up. I’m not sure why. Please check that you are taggable..***

#hibiscus kisses fic #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x black reader #slow burn fanfic #vacation fic #black fanfiction #angst fanfic #chris evans au

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wheel-of-fish · 4 years

Text

By the Numbers: Ben Crawford, Ali Ewoldt, Jay Armstrong Johnson

By the Numbers: The Ben Crawford/Ali Ewoldt/Jay Armstrong Johnson Stream, August 22, 2020

[long-awaited submission from Aldebaran; I’m putting it behind a cut]

Oh my gosh, an epic stream deserves an epically long and epically late By the Numbers! Come with me back in time, all the way back to two weeks ago, which in pandemic days is a month and a half. Before we were treated to Giant Ivan and Tiny Tamara in Moscow, there was The Swagger, The Disney Princess and The Bot…

This was a fantastically fun boot to watch as part of a group of enthusiastic Saturday Streamers! Plusses included an earlier-in-his-run Ben “The Swagger” Crawford as the Phantom, with the spotlight on his booming baritone voice, and Ali “Paris’s Sweetheart” Ewoldt as an enchanting Christine. And—Jay Armstrong Johnson (we’re pretty sure) as Raoul. Or some semblance of Raoul. Something was up with Raoul in this performance and the consensus was there may have been robotics involved. I won’t say more here; the streamers have it covered below and a fantastic set of memes by Onthevirg/faunaproductions caught tons more great moments. Very very nice filming job by a master who clearly knew the show well and anticipated major moments and character moves in a smooth manner. Not a bot though. As far as we know. And featuring an AIAOY– let’s just say that has to be seen to be believed.

Some stats on the stats: An asterisk * indicates a recurring category. All numbers are accurate except where they are not. I was tempted last week to resort to making crap up for this recap, but resisted the temptation. I will occasionally add in a missing letter or two. If a person’s train of thought is split up, I will ignore intervening commentary and put that thought back on track. Occasionally, by design or by mischance, a comment or two will be moved slightly out of original chronological order. Or wildly out of chronological order to cater to a theme. Or a whim. Only when it’s funny. There is also no clean way to say the word “organ” which pops up a lot in this stream. (See what I mean? It can’t be done.)

*Suggested names for this boot: The Animatronic Boot, The Better Than Cooper Boot, The It’s Alive! Boot, Robot Roll Call Boot (Okay, nobody suggested these. It was me. I suggested these)

*Statistician’s Favorite Boot Name: mechanical hands down, The RaoulBot Boot

*Wow, we like to talk about Phantoms: It has become clear to me that we like to talk about everybody. And everything. Phantoms, Christines, Raouls, Mandalorians. Here are most of the people mentioned in the stream. There is no context. Just like a real stream!!!

John Riddle (9), Gina Beck (8), Ramin (6), Rob Houchen (2), Ethan (1), Eiji (1), Uwe (3), Jordan Craig (2), Sierra (1), Steve Barton (3), David Shannon (2), Norm (14), Earl (1), Cooper (2), Darua (4), Thiago (11), Rachel Barrell (1), Meghan Picerno (2), Cherik (19), Pedro Pascal (1), B*rbour (7), Eva Tavares (4), Ted Keegan (5), Maree Johnson (2), Quentin Oliver Lee (1), Jeremy Hays (1), Ben Jacoby (3), Andrew Keenan Bolger (1), Greg Mills (1), Michael Maliakel (1), KKA (8), Jordan Donica (1), Kyle Barisch (8), Andrew Ragone (3), Paul Stanley/Stankey (3), Hannah Gadsby (2)

Residual Stolle Thirst: Residual Stolle Thirst from the stream a week prior to this one, plus Mr. Stolle’s appearance as Passarino AND the Conductor in this boot resulted in >32 mentions. There may or may not have been comparisons between his Raoul and this boot’s Raoul. I certainly wouldn’t put it past us.

Epithets for Ben Crawford: Ubiquitous mentions of Crawdaddy and The Swagger. More personalized and clearly personal epithets: Big Ben—ktarinajones, BENBENBENBEN—whereisthepersian, OH HELLO VOICE—butdreamsofbeauty, my horny bastard and I love him—ktarinajones

Epithets: reader’s choice as to which Phantom(s) the following apply to (no one in this stream): Fuckface McGee–therosenpants Sir Scruffsalot—snows Voldemort—Benny-Lynne Traschcan–therosentpants

Antici_____pation:

I can’t wait for jay I honestly thought they’d slapped a human face on a robot and called it a day—angedelamusique

Let’s all just have fun trying to spy hints of actual emotion in Jay’s Raoul—GlassPrism

Oh there will be memes. Ben Crawford is a walking meme and there will be a robot on stage—ktarinajones

Oh boy, here we go—GlassPrism

We love a trainwreck:

I love this stream crowd because you all show up for trainwrecks just as enthusiastically as you do for good actors—wheel-of–fish

We love a trainwreck!—butdreamsofbeauty

we’re ready—angelofthelake

trainwrecks are v satisfying—christinegrrl

We’re here with roses, we’re here with rotten fruit, we’re versatile! A good tirefire is a marshmallow roast–snows

Debut of RaoulBot: Before the show even began, JAJ’s Raoul had a name:

RaoulBot—ktarinajones at 20:01:33 (historic occasions get timestamps!)

wait they can’t moisten the raoul if he’s a robot, can they?—butdreamsofbeauty

they can oil him—ktarinajones

oil the raoul, perfect—butdreamsofbeauty

He has a silicone exterior—Benny-Lynne

wd-40—wheel-of-fish

How do we know he is waterproof? Let’s see if he sparks when he hits the Raoul Hole—Aldebaran

Earliest Meme Generation: Our intrepid memester Virg had material for a meme within 8 minutes 27 seconds of the start of the stream.

Love is in the Air: There was a lot of love in this stream

Ali Love: >32

Laird Love: 28

Carlotta Love: 20

Filmer Love: 5

Extreme John Riddle love: 2

when there’s video of John Riddle the filmer can have a kidney if they want—ktarinajones, seconded by christinegrrl

And then there was Jay:

Oh he did a head nod. Well done.—Bozzleboz

At least Jay doesn’t shoot a policeman—PureAnon

Several head turns in succession there. Getting ambitious.–Bozzleboz

Illumination!: Auction Raoul set the tone for the evening to come, and the chandelier seized the moment to shine.

OMG, his jaw moves just like a real person….or a nutcracker—Aldebaran

His batteries are running down. Maybe they will wire him for the new electricity.—Aldebaran

Robot Raoul is using all the electricity—Aldebaran

That chandelier isn’t rising—Ladyrock18

It’s not rising because they have to unhook the cables that power Raoulbot—DocTy

The chandelier shows more emotions than Jay as Raoul—Maze-zen

Erik made a Raouldoll to add to his collection?—Benny-Lynne

The chandelier shows the full range of human emotions. That is why it was cast.—haunted-hideaway

The chandelier is more expressive than this Raoul—Carole

The chandelier can actually sing in morse code—DocTy

Meanwhile backstage Raoulbot is recharging in his alcove—Aldebaran

If you listen closely you can hear diesel generators in the background recharging the batteries—DocTy

C’mon guys, he’s solar powered—ktarinajones

is that why he stops working in the dark during AIAOY–christinegrrl

Statistician Aldebaran wonders if she will be able to handle viewing Cherik:

Oh I finally finished the 90’s miniseries! I have thoughts!—Abberina

Abberina do you have thoughts other than “I hurt, I am in pain”?—snows

@snows the ending was WILD—Abberina

Abberina, I spent the whole day lying and crying after the 90s miniseries, are you allright?—Carole

“Wild”??? How are you still living! That ending! Gghh!—snows

Do you need something? A glass of water? Therapy?—Carole

My heart hasn’t recovered yet. And I watched it 4 years ago.–Carole

Christine Who?: One would think that Christine’s debut in Hannibal would have the streamers’ full attention. But no. All eyes were on Raoul in his box. Or maybe just unpacked from the box he came in.

can it be? can it be a robot?—christinegrrl

can it be chreeeestineeee—butdreamsofbeauty

engage clapping program—Aldebaran

clap beep boop clap clap—angelofthelake

beep boop clapping action beep boop—Jadowdra

EXECUTE EMOTION—missbuster

Stache or cache?: Once we were beginning to get an idea of the limits of Raoulbot’s programming, we turned our attention to his most character defining feature—the mustache.

omg mustache—MelancholysChild

His mustache is a little full for me. Oh well. I guess that’s where he hides his secrets.—haunted-hideaway

wowWWWW—put that boy in a floofy shirt and stick him in the pirates of the caribbean ride at disney, damn—snows

it’s where he hides his processer—therosenpants

haunted he needs something to cry into—ashadeintheshade

That is not a mustache, that is fiber optics—Aldebaran

although he is stiffer than the other robotic pirates—snows

Haunted, his secret is his charger entrance—Carole

You keep your secrets then, Raoul—haunted-hideaway

Autocorrect Follies:

Pinging = Piangi–Bozzleboz

Paul Stankey = Paul Stanley—IamErik771

Ironic Statement is Ironic:

I always forget there’s an elephant–yiks

Cooper finds a role:

[as Buquet appears] oh hey look it’s cooper!—snows finally a role for cooper, buquet all the way—Aldebaran ohh wait sorry it’s the other scruffy creepy nasty weirdo—snows

*Best from Onthevirg’s Mom: “like stolles passarino cooper should always be buquet—it’s a fitting role”

Joseph Buquet job performance review:

DO YOUR FREAKING JOB BUQUET. –madamefaust I’ll never get over that line “i promise i wasn’t doing my job!!!!!”—butdreamsofbeauty

The Boy Ain’t Right: Little Lotte made it very apparent that Raoul may have been compromised.

Don’t make fun of him, you guys. The tiny alien in his head driving his body is doing his best, ok?—haunted-hideaway

li tt le l ott e—tearoses

So….Erik’s looking like an awesome choice right about now…–HerbalPath

Usually i’m r/c but uh not today—yiks

His hat is just an excuse he’s going to recharge a bit—Carole

That was almost threatening how he said little lotte—Ladyrock18

*Vintage MadameFaust: Don’t quote me too much, my knowledge is based on judicious use of Wikipedia;-)

[inspired by Raoul’s Little Lotte performance] CHOCOLATES

HUMANS LOVE CHOCOLATES *Biggest Organ in Paris: The mirror scene included a thunderous organ accompaniment. It took me ten minutes to write a non-filthy sentence that conveyed that information while containing the word “organ.” The Saturday Streamers were fired up! Except for a certain statistician–

WOAH—therosenpants THAT ORGAN—PureAnon ORGAN—haunted-hideaway Wow—DocTy ORGAN!—butdreamsofbeauty did you hear that??????—therosenpants organ—DocTy Orrgannnnn—Xyloghost that roused me from Lore Olympus—therosenpants ORGAN!—Jawodra What’s with the loud organ?—maze-zen organ AWESOME—snows THE ORGAN WAS PERFECT—whereisthepersian I loved it!—MelancholysChild Is that new? that’s BADASS–snows Organ <3—Carole The organ is loud because Ben is loud—PureAnon Erik is playing his pocket organ–Abberina It’s the phantom of the phantom of the opera—wheel-of-fish

Oh God now I have to count Organ mentions (>20) and everyone is going to judge me—Aldebaran

*What scent are the Phantom’s candles: Previously established in the official “Love That Lair” candle line, in addition to Vanilla Brown Sugar, Cucumber Melon, Tobacco Spice, Underground Despair, and Hopeless Mist, the newest entry unveiled for this stream was Sepulchral Solitude, a light and airy blend of ennui, nihilism and condensation, perfect for occasional bouts of midnight composing.

*The Phantom’s pillows mentions: 2

obligatory pillow mentions, they are a nice colour scheme–missbuster

Baritone Love Fest:

we! love! a baritone! phantom!—butdreamsofbeauty

Baritones are the best!–PureAnon

Yes!—JacobZ

Yes to baritones. To whatever they ask.—Aldebaran

baritones are incredible—angelofthelake

I like em big and boomy—Bozzleboz

yes they are—MelancholysChild

The deeper and boomier, the better—PureAnon

*Erik has Skillz:

Okay so Ben just flipped through about six alternate personalities in a single line, and that’s impressive—snows

his voice is like chocolate sauce—Benny-Lynne

His voice is so deep I wanna scuba dive in it—Benny-Lynne

The Swagger at Rest:

Sir must you spread your legs so—snows

snows yes he MUST—ashadeintheshade

nice stance—MelancholysChild

Oo. Manspreading—Bozzleboz

but like… the good kind–snows

Sweet Music’s Throne: Ben’s nascent aggression came out in his organ playing. The INSTRUMENT!

OMG HIS KNEES This is really funny to me—madamefaust

He is def using his knees a lot—christinegrrl

Oh he’s….trying to play the keyboard—missbuster

He’s putting his back into that organ playing, there—haunted-hideaway

he’s definitely a more aggressive phantom I think—wheel-of-fish

A good squat workout I guess?—christinegrrl

Lift with your knees man—haunted-hideaway

The key to being an organist is all in the lumbar–Jacobz

Ben’s stance remains a source of….let’s call it concern. Yes, concern:

He’s got good stance—ashadeintheshade

why are his legs SO far apart though—butdreamsofbeauty

because they’re so loooong—missbuster

power stance—MelancholysChild

is he riding an invisible horse?—jadowdra

And, inevitably, boner mentions: 5 (You know who you are. Good thing, because I was watching Ben.)

The Phantom is pleased to announce: boner mentions are ummm holding firm

Christine makes questionable choices:

oh she looked down—christinegrrl

she totally looked down and then bolted but let’s be real WHY RUN—snows

Boner-adjacent vocabulary:

Horny and variants (>17)

Lusty (2)

Organ—THE INSTRUMENT!! (>20)

Christine does not stan a crafty Phantom:

he’s doing so well then he has to bring Barbara into it—Virg’s mom

SEE? I MADE THIS FOR YOU?

OOPS

THAT DID NOT GO TO PLAN—haunted-hideaway

Strange Ships: The debut of a long overdue category highlighting all the really random ships that are proposed during a given stream.

Erik/RaoulBot—haunted-hideaway

Andre/Carlotta–????

Barbara/severed Hannibal head—????

Christine/Luigi—ashadeintheshade

Barbara/new and improved sexbot from LND—Onthevirg

RaoulBot/Barbara—DocTy {streamers were split here that Barbara shouldn’t settle versus OTP}

Yes, I know, it’s a great disservice to Barbara but still, maybe they can bond over replacement parts—DocTy

Only in this streams I walk away with either a new favourite actor, a fanfic recommendation and/or a new pairing to ship—Jadowdra

*Education of the Innocent: Several seminars were held this stream. First, a wide ranging and frank discussion of historically accurate ballet rats, pimping and ummm social diseases. We segued from a dissertation on our own Madame Giry as a probable pimp to the topic of the hierarchy of French Royalty. These topics heavily featured our resident history buffs therosenpants, angedelamusique, PureAnon and madamefaust, with varying degrees of participation in the pimping and social disease discussions. Second, a discourse on “the catch” and variations, the catch being allowed in London and not on Broadway due to union rules. A variant unknown to me, the “half catch” was mentioned. Third, a sadly eye-opening (for some) discussion of the “horsey dance”:

Look, Norm was directed to do the horsey dance. Anything is possible on Broadway.—madamefaust

sorry a HORSEY DANCE—butdreamsofbeauty

HORSEY DANCE???—onthevirg

horsey dance…??—angelofthelake

ah yes the ever classic jumping up and galloping horsey dance—madamefaust

It was more of a forceful trot during ‘Order your fine horses’ in Final Lair—madamefaust

faust you can’t just drop that in chat and not explain yikes—butdreamsofbeauty

someone link the gif—andgedelamusique

[fatefully the gif was linked]

thanks, I hate it!—butdreamsofbeauty

OH I thought that was a JOKE, that was REAL?—ashadeintheshade

oh noooo I saw that in like a compilation of funny phantoms and i thought it was a joke oh no—ashadeintheshade

The Horsey Dance claims more victims–Aldebaran

STYDI Sound effects:

[the Phantom collapses]

plorp—wheel-of-fish

plorp—MelancholysChild

Now I want to hear his palms squeak on the ground—madamefaust

I’m Jewish and I don’t approve of this level of ham Curse youuuuu—JacobZ

Prior to Il Muto the organ makes another appearance. The INSTRUMENT!!!:

Organ boop!—Bozzleboz

Organ again. Oh God now I said it.—Aldebaran

Aldebaran, you can’t escape the organ. The Phantom’s organ WILL find you.—PureAnon

this Erik is so extra he took the organist’s place in the orchestra—DocTy

Il Muto Pillow Mentions: 1

Fascinating discussion about which is worse/better, bad actors or boring actors:

It’s the old argument between what’s worse bad or boring—GlassPrism

is it better to burn out or fade away—wheel-of-fish

Is it more fun to watch an Uwe or a Thiago—GlassPrism

Thiago activates my RAGE setting.—madamefaust

AIAOY is never make me watch this again: Words cannot capture AIAOY. Nevertheless we tried. Here are selected comments.

EXECUTEEMPATHY2.0—missbuster

Maybe there is a rat driving him by his mustache like in Ratatouille. Raoultatouille.—missbuster

turn.her.90.degrees—Aldebaran

if she shakes him, I bet we can hear him rattle—DocTy

Raoul.exe has stopped working—christinegrrl

he bluescreened—butdreamsofbeauty

error 404—angelofthelake

can you even play Doom on this Raoul?—Jadowdra

Does he even like her?—madamefaust

He’s just staring into the abyss—angelofthelake

Why did no one tell him that wooing does not involve low-level dread—JacobZ

<10> no more talk of darkness GOTO20—snows

<20> forget these wide eyed fears GOTO30—snows

his wooing program has bugs–Aldebaran

YOU ARE NO BETTER THAN MY ARCH-ENEMY THIAGO–madamefaust

are they actually kissing?—madamefaust

now you must place your face upon her face and remain still—butdreamsofbeauty

this is depressing—virg’s lil sister

It’s more fun to suffer as a group—wheel-of-fish

Prevailing Theory:

The Phantom clearly switched Raoul with a mannequin—Maze-zen

Fondly Remembering Christian Lund during this AIAOY: 4

Fondly Remembering “the Boop” during this AIAOY: 5

*Requests for AIAOY Kiss replay: 0

Priorities Straight: Host Fish caller for dog pictures on her blog during the stream, resulting in the following mentions

Dogs (35, may need to be adjusted as one of Flora’s dogs is large enough to count as two), Goats (6), Cats (9), Rabbits (5), Chickens (3) Regular non-Cherik deer (1) Pig (1) Cherik deer (9) actual human children (1)

The Masquerade, or as some wags had it due to the mannequins on the staircase, the de Chagny family reunion:

Let’s see the robot try to dance—katarinajones

dance.exe—whereisthepersian

dance.exe failed to start—phantomofthebasement

He is going as a robot to the masquerade–Aldebaran

People gonna trip over his charging cable—whereisthepersian

Relief is the wrong emotion to feel when the Red Death arrives:

Why at a costume party is everyone afraid of a costumed man? How do they know to be scared? Do they hear the background music?—JacobZ

It’s his authoritative stance—madamefaust

Christine’s reaction maybe?—ktarinajones

I think they’re afraid he’s going to drop another chandelier on them. Which, valid.—madamefaust

They saw the bead work. They know who it is.—haunted-hideaway

*Sad comment is sad: commenting on the ornate bow on the score for Don Juan Triumphant

He wraps it up like the present he never received.—haunted-hideaway

*Fathering Gaze lyric: 1

*That staff tho:

“I’m going to a graveyard. I should take my shooty stick with the skull on it!”—haunted-hideaway

We passed the Point of No Return long ago. From the auction, in fact:

his accent, lol–ashadeintheshade

Accent—Bozzleboz

itsa me…—Aldebaran

ITSA HIM—madamefaust

I hate you all—wheel-of-fish

And Ben plays videogames backstage. His inspiration is literally Super Mario.—madamefaust

That was some nice cup stroking—GlassPrism

The Raoul Hole holds no dangers for Raoulbot:

Oh no he’s going to rust and shut down in the lake—wheel-of-fish

They spray him down and moisten him before he jumps in, otherwise he’ll just float on top—haunted-hideaway

Raoul’s wifi is down once more:

Is the boat stuck? Oh, there it goes—madamefaust

The radio signals running Raoul confused the boat—Aldebaran

The organ makes a return in Down Once More: The INSTRUMENT!!!!: 2

Veil Fluff Mentions: 2

he didn’t fluff the veil—ashadeintheshade

I like the veil fluff–ashadeintheshade

Veil Yeet Mentions: 11

The Kiss. An actual human kiss, unlike AIAOY:

ohhh he bends into the kiss—Aldebaran

Aw he’s TRYING to figure out how to kiss—Flora-Gray

He done touched a lady.—haunted-hideaway

That was a good kiss—Abberina

Bozzleboz breaks me, as the Phantom approaches hanging Raoul with a candle:

I burn him now, yes?–Bozzleboz

The Phantom breaks us:

oh god. He just broke me.—Bozzleboz

ohhhh poor angel—Aldebaran

aw erik :(–angeloflake

he’s so resigned:(–Benny-Lynne

we love an exhausted depressed sewer man—butdreamsofbeauty

This Phantom survives just so he can go disassemble Raoul—Aldebaran

Looks Like We Made It:

Time to go plug Raoulbot in for the night—angelofthelake

Performance Comparisons for Raoul/Career Suggestions for Raoul, You Decide:

Nutcracker—Aldebaran

Mannequin Bride—coroaline

Tin Man—christinegrrl, yiks

Edward Scissorhands—GlassPrism

Calculon from Futurama—IamErik771

C3PO—wheel-of-fish

Automaton—ktarinajones

Dalek–missbuster

Cardboard Cutout—haunted-hideaway

Hat Stand–Bozzleboz

*Things I wish I had said:

Christine in Final Lair: She has to go put Raoul in a bag of rice but she’ll be back—Benny-Lynne

*Statistician Aldebaran’s two favorite personal quotes:

little known fact, the red scarf is actually a fanbelt from Raoulbot

19 years on the score, 1 year on the bow

Phew! See you shortly with the By the Numbers of Moscow from LAST week!!! Aldebaran

#saturday streams #aldebaran #by the numbers #submission

36 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Revelation Sunshine, Chapter 1 (Courtney/Vixen) - Veronica

A/N: Oh hi. Welcome to the Galactica sequel that I’ve been planning FOREVER. Like...literally since the time these two started interacting on Twitter, during season 10. Thanks to @artificialpuddle for the beta help, and @aqcitrus for brainstorming with me. <3

And of course, a HUGE thanks to @theartificialdane, for humoring me the whole way through and letting me explore this ship in the Galactica verse. It is mostly fluffy, fluffy shit, which is a bit out of my wheelhouse, but I love them so much and I just want them to be happy.

I think it can easily be read as a stand-alone story. The only thing you need to know from Galactica is that at this point in the story, Courtney is a wildly successful queer pop star and star of a fictional Disney franchise called ‘Glimmer,’ which costars Honey Mahogany as her love interest.

Challenge Notes:

Story is told mostly from Vixen’s POV

Her BFFs: Asia, Monet, Monique, Mayhem (who show up in person in Chapter 2)

The title is a song by Cree Summer. I’ve also made a playlist for this story, which can be found here.

#Vixney4Eva

TW: vague reference to past transphobia, sexual apprehension/nervousness that should in NO WAY be construed as dubcon

***

It was Honey who introduced them. Or, rather, Honey who handed Courtney the book that started everything, on the set of Glimmer 3.

BEWARE WHITE TEARS: Performativity and Racial Justice, by Toni “Vixen” Taylor enthralled Courtney so much that she barely slept for 3 nights, devouring it twice. And then she read the whole thing again, slowly, highlighting the parts that blew her mind the most.

On set, when she just couldn’t stop raving about it, Honey laughed at her.

“So...you liked it?”

“Omigod, yes!” Courtney exclaimed. “I mean, obviously I feel very called out. But in a good way? Like...this is making me rethink everything.”

“That’s good! I thought maybe you’d be offended,” Honey said, adjusting her crown.

“Offended? How long have we known each other?” Courtney giggled, bumping Honey with her hip. It was true: they’d been co-starring in the Glimmer franchise for 8 years at that point.

“Still.”

“But god, Honey, it was just...I mean, I don’t even have any words for how amazing it was. She’s so fucking smart and passionate, and so funny, and everything she says is like…” Courtney shook her head, starry-eyed.

“You should tell her,” Honey said with a saucy wink. “Send her a tweet or something.”

“She’s not gonna care what I think,” Courtney said. “I mean, hello? Chapter 4?”

“Okay, but she’s a professor. She’ll be thrilled that someone learned something. Besides, even if she doesn’t respond, maybe you’ll encourage your fans to read it.”

“That’s true…”

“And maybe get more people to listen to her podcast-”

“She has a podcast?!!” Courtney shrieked excitedly, then whispered, “Sorry,” when she saw the boom operator cringe.

Maybe Honey was right...but what should she say?

***

Vixen felt absolutely silly. There was really no reason for attention from a celebrity to make her so giddy. True, there’d been a phase when she hung on Courtney Act’s every word--but that was years ago. Early in her transition, when she felt like nothing she did was right. When she was desperate for any voice telling her that who she was was okay.

It was different now. She was 30 year old, for fuck’s sake. She didn’t need validation from anyone anymore, especially not a pop-star-come-Disney-princess. At least, that’s what she would have told anyone who asked.

But to herself, she couldn’t deny the thrill she got when she saw that first notification on her phone. The mild anxiety all day as she taught two lectures and graded a handful of thesis proposals--a nagging thought in the back of her mind wondering how she should reply. It wasn’t until late into the evening, after 2 glasses of wine, that she allowed herself to read it again, slowly typing out a reply.

Courtney Act @courtneyact ∙ 15h Just read @professorvixtaylor’s “Beware White Tears” and my mind is BLOWN. Everyone needs to read this game-changing book. E V E R Y O N E!!!! It’s so good, so informative, so powerful. AND I just found out that she has! A! Podcast!! #obsessed <3 <3 <3 <3

Dr. Vixen Taylor @professorvixtaylor ∙ 1m Replying to @courtneyact Glad you found it interesting! Thanks for the plug.

That was fine, right? Very chill. She went to sleep feeling pretty satisfied with herself. It wasn’t until the following morning when she saw Courtney’s response.

Courtney Act @courtneyact ∙ 6h Replying to @professorvixtaylor That is the understatement of the year!!! I LOVED it! You are BRILLIANT. I just listened to the first episode of your podcast and holy shit...it’s phenomenal.

Vixen put down her phone, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. It was shallow and cheap--being this enchanted by obviously exaggerated praise. But still...not a bad way to start the day.

***

Vixen was used to fighting. All of her life, it seemed, she’d had to prove herself. Scrape and claw for her voice to be heard. Shout into the void over and over, praying that someone would eventually listen. Demand attention and bang down doors and yell until she was hoarse.

Having someone at Courtney’s level of fame pay attention to her--emphatically describe her as brilliant, incisive, powerful, mind-blowing--Vixen’s impulse, in the beginning, was to lie. To say she didn’t need that kind of validation from anyone, especially a rich, famous, beautiful white girl. The embodiment of privilege. Someone whose coming out was celebrated in the media like a massive human rights achievement. Because how could someone like that ever really get it?

But on the other hand…she had to hand it to Courtney. She had excellent taste in podcasts.

And there was something soothing about a person who didn’t expect her to prove anything. Someone who respected her from the jump, who engaged with her book and her podcasts from a place of dignity, assuming that she knew what she was talking about. She didn’t demand back-up or further explanations when she came across material that was confusing. She did the work herself, looking up the articles and studies Vixen cited, posting them with a quote when something in particular caught her attention.

So reluctantly, over the next month or two, Vixen found herself warming to the idea of a real dialogue. It was January 1st, sitting on her grandmother’s plastic-covered sofa, when Vixen finally bit the bullet and slipped into Courtney’s DMs, so to speak.

Courtney had been tweeting up a storm over the holidays. Gobbling up her podcasts rapidly and hungrily, heaping her and her guests with praise and incidentally, making her subscriber numbers climb. She opened a direct message window, typing out a message that she hoped would make Courtney laugh.

@professorvixtaylor: Alright, already. This is getting embarrassing...

The response came within minutes.

@courtneyact: LOL! Listen, nobody ever accused me of a lack of enthusiasm.

@professorvixtaylor: I bet not ;)

It took one afternoon of DMs before Courtney gave Vixen her phone number. “Twitter’s great, but it’s probably easier to just text, right?”

Well.

Vixen had to admit, she had a point.

***

“So listen,” Latrice said, heaving a deep sigh. “I hate to be the one to tell you this. Like, I really, really hate it.”

“Oh shit,” Courtney said, wrapping herself in a blanket and preparing herself for whatever horrible news her manager was about to deliver. “Go ahead…”

“This isn’t coming from me, okay? It’s coming from Disney.”

“Just tell me, Latrice. What? Is the tour cancelled? Do they hate the new video? Do we need to do reshoots? What?”

“No, all that’s fine. They just...they’re a little uncomfortable about your interactions with this Vixen person.”

“Why?” Courtney sat up, ready to get extremely annoyed, extremely fast.

“Well, it’s just...she’s apparently got some very radical ideas, and-”

“So? Maybe they’re amazing ideas? Have you read the book?” Courtney countered.

Latrice sighed.

“Courtney, listen. It’s just...not what they want while they’re trying to promote this last movie.”

“It’s a movie that ends with a gay interracial marriage!” Courtney exclaimed. “So why the fuck do they have a problem with me complimenting a Black political science professor on Twitter?! This is beyond idiotic, Latrice, you have to admit that! And by the way, I’m not gonna stop. She’s amazing and her book is important and more people should know about her, and if they want to fire me, then fine!” Courtney’s heart was racing as she tried to catch her breath.

There was a pause before Latrice spoke again.

“I assumed this would be your response.”

“Yeah, so. Now what?!”

“Now, I tell them that you feel very strongly about this, and that you’re not breaching any contract, and if they try to silence you on this issue, you’re prepared for a very public, very embarrassing fight,” Latrice said.

“Okay…” Courtney waited for the catch.

“I’m pretty sure they’ll drop it.”

“Just like that?” Courtney asked, confused. She’d gotten herself well and riled up, prepared for a real battle.

“Yeah, baby,” Latrice said. “Just like that. Chalk it up to white privilege.”

Courtney couldn’t help but laugh at that, head falling back on the sofa cushions.

“Good one, ma’am.”

After they hung up, Courtney opened Instagram, delighted that Vixen had updated her story. It was just a casual picture, her and two other professors getting ready to speak at a round table discussion. Courtney smiled, replying to the picture with heart eyes and the question, ‘Is that top from my collection?’

She responded a little while later, while Courtney was on the elliptical, saying, ‘I was hoping you’d notice. ;)’

Courtney giggled to herself, wondering when she’d get to meet this amazing, glowingly beautiful woman. All she wanted was to finally talk, face to face. Maybe in the spring, when her tour hit Chicago? Which, as far as Courtney was concerned, couldn’t happen soon enough.

***

It may very well have been a love letter, Vixen thought, finding her cheeks blazing hot at the thought. She’d woken up to a video posted on Courtney’s Twitter feed. “How To Be a Race Ally.”

Vixen watched the whole video with a healthy amount of skepticism. It was great, actually. Humble and informative. Cleverly incorporating some of the points from her podcast (with proper credit given) and even some things she’d said over text recently (also with credit, and a wink straight into the camera that made Vixen feel things she wasn’t prepared for at 7:30 in the morning).

Dr. Vixen Taylor @professorvixtaylor ∙ 1m Replying to @courtneyact Okay fine, you can come to the cookout.

As usual, Courtney's response was lightning fast, an emoji wearing a party hat and about 10 exclamation points. Vixen couldn’t resist teasing her a little bit more.

Dr. Vixen Taylor @professorvixtaylor ∙ 1m Replying to @courtneyact I don’t know how vegan-friendly it’ll be, though.

Courtney Act @courtneyact ∙ 1m Replying to @professorvixtaylor You really think I’m there for the food? ;P

Vixen rose from her bed, an almost giddy feeling filling her chest. She really needed to calm the fuck down. What was with this silly schoolgirl behavior? And on a public platform? Every interaction ran the risk of absolutely ruining the street cred she’d spent years building up. (Monet was already making it her personal mission to screenshot every exchange and then tease her mercilessly, and Asia had begun to join in.)

Besides, what were the odds that it would ever be anything but a short-lived flirtation? Courtney was bound to become captivated by something else soon. An animal rights group, perhaps. Or funding for the arts in public schools. There were a billion issues competing for her attention. How long would Vixen’s moment in the sun possibly last?

And yet, when Courtney tweeted that she was on her way to New York, Vixen found herself taking a shot of liquid courage and then sending a text.

VIXEN: Hey...how long are you gonna be in New York?

COURTNEY: A couple of weeks, why?

VIXEN: Well, I have a conference at Columbia on February 23, and then I’m gonna stay for a few days. Maybe we could meet up?

COURTNEY: YES

COURTNEY: I mean, sure. Sounds lovely. Tell me what day you’re free. <3

***

It was strange, seeing Courtney in person after all this time. As much as Vixen enjoyed chatting with her, and as validating as it was to get so much attention, she had reminded herself over and over again that this was all just friendly banter. A bit of lighthearted flirting, maybe, but the possibility of a genuine romantic connection was absolutely out of the question.

But then.

When Courtney first emerged from the elevators, smile bright, it was like time ceased to be linear. Nothing...not pictures, not video, not even that concert she’d attended all those years ago, prepared her for how heart-stoppingly beautiful she was in person.

Vixen stood, in slow motion, knees shaking a little, suddenly hugely aware of her height. Was Courtney always this little? Why had Vixen worn heels?

It must have taken Courtney less than 10 seconds to cross the lobby to where Vixen stood, but for some reason, it felt like 10 years. Excruciatingly slow, and yet somehow, Vixen was still caught off guard as she bounded up and grasped both of her hands.

“Thank you so much for coming!” Courtney exclaimed, that dazzling smile still on her face. “It’s amazing to finally be in the same room!”

“Yeah, it’s…” Vixen offered a smile of her own, swallowing hard. Her hands were warm and soft, and as Vixen gazed down at her, she could feel her heart racing faster than ever. “How was your day?”

“Crazy…” Courtney linked an arm through Vixen’s, leading her towards the hotel bar.

It took a concerningly short time for all the weirdness to dissipate, for Vixen to forget that she was across the table from a celebrity, a person she’d been following for years, a person that she’d idolized at one point in her life.

She was just a girl. Granted, she was a beautiful girl, but one who seemed incredibly excited, even honored, to be talking to Vixen—about her book, her podcast, her life. Where she came from and what she cared about and who she looked up to. A girl who wanted to get to know her.

After awhile, when Vixen was finally relaxed enough to really open up, she told Courtney about hearing ‘Kaleidoscope’ for the first time. How, at that point in her transition, it made all the difference in the world to see Courtney so open about the fluidity of gender and sexuality. To hear those magical words. ‘This is who we are.’

Courtney nodded along, listening to her, tears filling her eyes. She covered Vixen’s hand with her own, and said, “I needed it too.”

As the hours ticked by, they talked about everything. Passion, art, travel, identity. She wanted to know when Vixen began to question her own gender, how she knew that she wanted to transition. She was delighted by the story of her brief foray into drag during the early college years, the source of her now permanent nickname. In spite of all the questions (or maybe because of them), for once, Vixen felt like she wasn’t on the defensive. She found herself being more sincere and honest about all of it than she’d been in a long time.

“I’m not usually this open,” she admitted at one point.

Courtney laughed, eyes glittering, and said, “I’m usually too open.”

“I think you’re just right,” Vixen replied, giving her a generous smile.

They talked about their childhoods. How much she loved pretend and fantasy as a kid.

“I went through a phase—that’s generous, it was like 3 years—where I really wanted to be a dragon. I had this dumb...dragon hoodie, that I wore all the time. And when I finally grew out of it, I cried.”

“Aww,” Courtney said, reaching for her hand. “I bet you were adorable.”

“I think I just really, really didn’t want to be me.”

Courtney took in a slow, deep breath, and then let it out even slower.

“I’m not gonna pretend that I really get it. Everything you’re talking about. I don’t know if I ever could. But...I get that part.”

Vixen raised an eyebrow.

“You? How do you get it?” Vixen let out a chuckle. “I’m not trying to judge you, but I just...look at you. You’re this perfect, sparkly princess. Everything the world wants a girl to be.”

“Yeah...I see what you’re saying. But...sometimes it feels like that’s all the world wants. Is the sparkly princess part. And I’m more than that. Or, I hope I am. But…” Courtney trailed off, wrinkling her nose. “Do I sound really dumb?”

“You don’t sound dumb. You sound like a very intelligent, thoughtful...sparkly princess.”

Courtney threw back her head and laughed.

“I can’t believe you laughed at that,” Vixen said with a shake of her head. “It was such a cheap shot.”

“Well, I’m an easy laugh,” Courtney said, shrugging unapologetically.

“Yeah I’ve heard that about you,” Vixen couldn’t help saying, and Courtney’s giggles continued.

They stared at each other for a few moments, eyes burning in the dim light, with matching, goofy grins decorating their faces, until Vixen broke, shaking her head.

“This is so surreal…”

“How so?” Courtney asked, voice lilting in a way that felt almost like a tease, resting a chin on her hand.

Vixen hesitated. It felt so cliché to say that it was because Courtney was famous, or because she once cried at her concert when she was 23.

“I mean...you’re not even really my type,” she finally answered with a small shrug.

“Oh yeah? What’s your type?”

“Ummm...I normally go for curvy Latinas,” Vixen said, lashes fluttering.

Courtney’s eyes widened, smile deepening, as she exclaimed, “Oh my god, me too!”

They both started laughing again, clinking glasses for good measure.

“So, um...do you have to go back to Chicago tomorrow?”

“Actually, no. I decided to stay a few more days,” Vixen replied. “See some shows, meet up with some friends. There’s this museum in Brooklyn that I’ve been dying to check out for years.”

“What museum?” Courtney asked.

“It’s, uh, called the Museum of Contemporary African Diasporan Arts,” Vixen said. “Kind of a mouthful but-”

“Sounds great. I wish I could see it.”

“You wanna come? I’m going tomorrow after lunch.”

“Ugh, I wish!” Courtney said, stretching her neck. “But the press tour schedule is insane. I’m doing two more interviews tomorrow, and then I fly to LA to kick off the tour.”

“Tough breaks.” Vixen tried, unsuccessfully, not to sound sarcastic.

“Listen, I’m not complaining. I’m very lucky.” Courtney smiled, tilting her head. “But it would’ve been cool to see that museum.”

“Next time,” Vixen promised.

“I’m holding you to that,” Courtney said, gaze fixed on Vixen’s face as she downed the rest of her drink.

Vixen gave a small nod, finding her eyes hypnotic. Surreal indeed.

They ordered yet another round as hotel patrons trickled out, crowd thinning, closing time approaching. By the time they stood up to leave, they’d knocked back quite a few--more than Vixen realized at the time. She grabbed Courtney’s arm to steady her as the blonde swayed in her heels.

“You alright?”

“Mmhmm…” Courtney gazed up at her, lashes fluttering.

“Do you want me to help you upstairs?”

“Okay…”

In the elevator, Courtney wrapped her arms around Vixen’s waist, leaning a head on her shoulder. Vixen’s heart hammered in her chest, one hand gripping the railing for support.

At the door, Courtney looked up at her, eyes bright, breathing out, “You know, we don’t have to be up until 10 tomorrow…”

“What are you…‘we?’”

It took Vixen a moment to catch on to her train of thought, a wave of nerves washing over her.

“Listen. Um. I think you’re great,” she began, wincing as she saw Courtney’s blissful expression crumble. “But...I just, I never hook up with girls who’ve been drinking. It’s just…”

Vixen didn’t want to explain the whole story. The girl in the lesbian bar, years ago, who danced with her all night, flirting and rubbing against her, inviting her back to her apartment. Only, when they began to undress, and it became clear that Vixen’s body was a little different, the girl flipped a switch. Went from a delightful buzz to drunken rage. Accused her of taking advantage, called her...Vixen didn’t even want to think about that. Or about how she’d left her apartment as fast as possible, terrified and choking back tears. How at home, she’d collapsed into Asia’s arms and sobbed most of the night, wondering if she’d ever fit in, anywhere.

Courtney wasn’t that girl in the bar—Vixen knew that. But she was clearly tipsy, and some things, some decisions, required a clear head.

“It’s not you,” she finished lamely. “You’re amazing.”

Courtney nodded, swallowing her disappointment like a champ and saying, “You’re amazing.”

Before she left, Vixen leaned in and brushed her lips against Courtney’s cheek.

She walked toward the elevator, regret stinging the back of her throat. She had no idea how long it would be before they saw each other again, and suddenly her arbitrary rules based on one shitty asshole in a bar 7 years ago seemed...absurd. She turned back around. Courtney was still leaning in her open doorway, watching her walk away.

“Hey, how drunk are you, actually? Can you recite the Pledge of Allegiance?” Vixen asked.

“No—” Courtney said, brow furrowed.

“Oh.” Vixen’s heart deflated a bit.

“—Because we don’t have the Pledge of Allegiance in Australia.”

“Right,” Vixen laughed.

“But what about, um, okay...so...here's a story from A to Z. You wanna get with me, you gotta listen carefully. We got Em in the place who likes it in your face. You got G like MC who likes it on a. Easy V doesn't-”

Vixen strode forward and silenced her with a kiss, soft and sweet, almost chaste at first, both of them giggling. As the kiss deepened, Vixen grabbed Courtney around the waist and pushed her backward into the room, letting the door slam shut behind them.

Vixen was so enamoured that she barely registered Courtney’s massive hotel suite, the entry hall or huge living room that Courtney led her through on the way to the bedroom. Guiding her by her hips to the bed, Courtney pushed her into a seated position and stood between her legs, chasing her lips as she took hold of her collar, fingering the little pearl buttons down the front of her shirt dress.

“Is this okay?” she asked, and Vixen nodded.

“Yeah.” She watched Courtney’s heavy-lidded eyes as she quickly opened the buttons, skin prickling as she pushed it off Vixen’s shoulders. She kissed Vixen again, deep and messy, sucking on her bottom lip.

Panting, Vixen reached around, fumbling for Courtney’s zipper. Once she pulled it down a few inches, the cotton dress easily came off over her head, and then there she was, standing in front of Vixen in nothing but a pair of baby blue panties.

Vixen swallowed, eyes sweeping over Courtney’s body, dying to touch her but nervous as all fuck.

“Listen, um...I should tell you…”

Courtney paused mid-way through opening Vixen’s belt to look at her curiously, face earnest and alert. The perfect student.

Vixen sighed. The fact that Courtney was so willing to listen, so considerate, should have been a bonus. But in this moment, it just made her feel startlingly inadequate. She hated this. The feeling of not being enough, or being too much. She didn’t even know anymore. All she knew was that she was about to make herself more vulnerable than she’d ever been, and she was terrified.

“So...Okay, um. I guess...it’s just been a long time since...I was with a girl.”

“Tell me about it,” Courtney said, grinning.

“No. A really long time,” Vixen said.

“Okay. Does that mean you don’t want-”

“No!” Vixen burst out, a little too emphatically, and then lowered her eyes bashfully, adding in a calmer voice, “No, I want to be with you, I just...might be a little out of practice.” It was an understatement, a lie of omission that unsettled Vixen’s stomach a bit. But it was all she felt comfortable with revealing at the moment, and she hoped that she’d be forgiven later.

“Hmm…” Courtney took Vixen’s face in her hands, tilting her chin up. “I think I can work with that…”

She bent down to kiss her again, soft as a whisper, fingers stroking Vixen’s cheekbones, before pulling back and gazing down at her.

“God,” Courtney breathed, “You are so beautiful.”

Vixen took in a shaky breath, her hands finally lifting to slide around Courtney’s hips. Something about the way Courtney looked at her was different than anything she’d ever experienced. She’d been the object of lust before, and sometimes very much enjoyed it. But this was more than that. She felt more than sexy, more even than beautiful. She felt seen.

But for once, rather than get all wrapped up in anxiety about what it meant, Vixen acted on instinct. She gripped Courtney's waist and pulled her forward, flinging her onto her back on bed. Courtney squealed delightedly, pulling her along.

Courtney smiled up at her, reaching a hand out but then pausing, letting her fingers rest on Vixen’s shoulder.

“Am I allowed to touch your hair? ‘Cause I’ve heard...”

Vixen couldn’t help laughing as she nodded and said, “That rule doesn’t really apply here.”

“Okay,” Courtney giggled, fingering her twists gently.

Vixen turned her head, pressing a kiss to Courtney’s wrist, then slowly moving up her arm, and finally nuzzling into her shoulder. Her skin smelled fresh and almost sweet, like she’d recently been in a doughnut shop. It wasn’t sugary like some kind of food-based perfume or soap, just a gentle, vague deliciousness that Vixen became addicted to immediately, burying her face into her neck to inhale deeply.

She found a soft, tender spot, just below Courtney’s ear, that made her sigh when kissed, and began to suck. Courtney inhaled sharply, hips thrusting up against Vixen’s, hands tightening in her hair.

“You like that?” Vixen asked, emboldened, hands sliding up from her waist to scratch gently at her ribcage.

“Uh huh,” Courtney breathed, arching up again as Vixen kissed her, thumb brushing over her hardened nipple. A whimper fell from her lips.

Vixen’s dress was half off at this point, pushed down around her waist, and when Courtney’s fingers began to trail lightly up and down her back, she shivered. Courtney pushed the dress further down, wriggling it over Vixen’s hips to her thighs, and Vixen pulled it off the rest of the way.

She was expecting to feel uncomfortably exposed, both of them now just in their panties—a situation she hadn’t found herself in with a woman is a very fucking long time. Especially a woman she liked this much. But instead of feeling awkward, she found her pulse racing with excitement, nearly breathless in anticipation of what might come next.

She realized that she’d been frozen for a few moments when Courtney raised herself up on her elbows and asked, “Are you alright?”

Vixen nodded, and Courtney sat up further, reaching out to touch her cheek.

“You want to take a break? Slow things down?”

“No,” Vixen said simply, slipping her fingers under the sides of Courtney’s panties. Her hips lifted, allowed Vixen to slide them off easily, heart in her throat when she saw how glistening wet she was already. She knew that she was potentially in over her head, but there was also a strong urge to keep going, pulse racing with desire.

“Come here.” Courtney stretched out her arm, pulling Vixen in for a kiss, tongues tangling together. She rolled Vixen over, onto her back, grinding down against her.

As much as Vixen wanted to please her, ceding control to Courtney felt liberating. She watched through heavy-lidded eyes as Courtney lavished her with affection, layering kisses against her skin. When a warm tongue swirled over her nipple, her hips jerked up, a stifled moan escaping from her throat.

Courtney sucked harder on her nipple, hands sliding down her torso, lips following as they trailed over Vixen’s tense abdomen. She hooked her fingers into the sides of Vixen’s panties and then looked up questioningly.

“Can I...?”

“Go ahead,” Vixen replied, straining to raise her hips, finding her core muscles in a weakened state, skin so flushed and hot that for a moment, she barely remembered to be self-conscious. Until Courtney began to slide her panties down, and suddenly she remembered exactly what she’d been dreading. When the reality of who she was would confront Courtney, more than theoretical, more than an idea.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she watched Courtney’s face. If she had any qualms about a girl with a dick, she certainly didn’t show it. She simply continued to suck soft kisses into her skin, warm hands resting on her thighs.

Vixen finally relaxed backwards, eyes falling shut. She let go of all her worries, all her stupid insecurities. At least for now. At least while Courtney took her dick into her mouth, tongue flicking delicately at her. Vixen’s hips thrust upwards, hands gripping the comforter tightly, moans dripping from her lips like honey.

It had been so achingly long since anyone had touched her this way. Maybe no one ever had, she realized as she arched into the soft caresses. She’s certainly never experienced this kind of loving attention from a woman, a woman treating her like she was precious and beautiful, turning her into a gasping, quivering mess. Vixen felt herself falling apart quickly, losing control, nearly gone before she had the wherewithal to choke out a pained warning.

“I’m-I’m gonna-”

“Mmhmmm…” Courtney made no move to stop, swirling her tongue again, then taking her deeper, sucking harder.

“Oh fuck,” Vixen moaned, hips pumping uncontrollably as she came, gasping for air.

The way Courtney’s hands stroked her thighs, continued to suck softly as she melted backwards into the pillows, every muscle in her body going slack--the small part of her that was still conscious shivered with delight, thrilled with the feeling of being spoiled.

It wasn’t until her body was completely still, bones feeling like jelly, when Courtney began to work her way up her body once again, hands sliding over her skin until she came nose to nose with her once again.

Courtney smiled, kissing her cheeks, down along her jaw, the corner of her mouth. Lips rousing her from a state of sheer exhaustion into warm, sleepy affection. Her hands circled Courtney's waist.

“How are you feeling, baby?” Courtney murmured.

“Uh huh.”

Courtney giggled, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger as she pressed more kisses against her.

Vixen sighed contentedly, pulling her in close, not caring how clingy and pathetic she might seem, just wanting the warmth of Courtney’s body against her own. Courtney snuggled into her arms, slipping to the side of her, legs still tangled together.

After a few slow, lazy kisses, Vixen started to sense a shift. Courtney’s breath grew hot and ragged, hips rutting against her. She cautiously moved a hand down, working it in between her thighs, fingers seeking out her wet heat.

“Show me what you want,” she urged, desire to give Courtney pleasure finally outweighing her fear of looking like an amateur.

Courtney lifted her head, giving her a sleepy grin and reaching down to guide her. She patiently showed Vixen exactly where to touch her, what to do to tease her, when to speed up and circle her clit, how deep for her fingers to go and exactly how to curl them to make her tremble. Vixen followed her breathless instructions, guided by Courtney’s own hand, thrilled at the way her body responded.

Soon, Courtney’s eyes were rolled back, muscles straining, tits brushing against Vixen’s chest as she thrusted against her fingers, fucking down into them, breathy moans music to Vixen’s ears. Her hips moved faster and faster until she stopped, whimpering, just barely grinding against the heel of Vixen’s hand, lips pressed to her neck.

Vixen had never made a girl come before, and it was so much more beautiful than she’d imagined, from the way her lashes fluttered against her cheeks to the slick sheen of sweat on her forehead, to her ass flexing, muscles still twitching against Vixen’s fingers. And the best part, the way she looked up at Vixen at the end, eyes locked with hers as the waves of pleasure radiated through her body, fingers wound tightly into her hair.

“Fuck,” Courtney sighed, collapsing against Vixen’s body, trapping her hand for a few moments before realizing it and letting her wriggle free with a sleepy laugh. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Vixen said, tilting her chin up for a kiss. Her whole body had suddenly become soft and pliant, and all Vixen wanted was to wrap her into an embrace. She wasn’t expecting it to feel this intimate. A part of her had even worried that this whole affair would be wrapped up in a one-night stand. But as Courtney cuddled against her, heart still hammering, she felt closer to her than ever. “I should probably tell you…”

“Mmm?”

“What I said earlier, about not being with a girl in a long time?” Vixen swallowed. “I uh...I haven’t really had a girlfriend since high school. And I guess I’ve come close since then, but never really went through with it...as me. The real me.”

Courtney lifted her head, fingers trailing down Vixen’s arm, a smile playing on her lips.

“Thank you for trusting me with the real you,” she said softly.

Vixen nodded, not sure what more there was to add, when a clap of thunder outside scared the living shit out of her, causing her to nearly jump out of her skin. So much for a warm and fuzzy moment.

Courtney laughed, pulling up the covers and cocooning them both, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” she said, snuggling tight against Vixen’s body.

“You better,” Vixen replied.

#rpdr fanfiction #the vixen #courtney act #honey mahogany #latrice royale #courtney x vixen #trans!vixen #fluff #smut #mild angst #lesbian au #galactica au #fic challenge #black girl magic fic #diversity fic #revelation sunshine #veronica #trans character #tw mention of past transphobia

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amandaklwrites · 4 years

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Movie Review: The Haunted Mansion (2003)

Genre: Family Fantasy/Adventure/Horror

Rating: 9/10

Movie Review:

I LOVE THIS MOVIE. This movie was such an important part of my childhood, and then very much into adulthood as well. Mostly because of how much I love Disney, The Haunted Mansion ride in Disneyland, and my now deep love for creepy/haunted things.

Here’s a funny story. When this movie came out, I was about 7-8, and my mom and my grandma took me to see it in theaters. I remember being uncomfortable with the jump scares (sorry, but Ramsley’s ghost face attacking the kid at the beginning is mortifying and a good scare), as I was never a fan of horror, and still am not. But I remember being enchanted with Edward Gracey (okay, I was in love with him-- who isn’t?), and Jim and Sara, and the whole story. But the moment the zombie skeletons came after Jim and Megan, I lost my shit. I jumped into the floor of the movie theater, hiding and crying. This movie scarred me in some ways.

I don’t remember when I started watching the movie again (probably preteens), but it is easily, hands down, one of my favorite films ever made. It has some good jokes, Eddie Murphy’s role is perfection, Marsha Thomason as both Sara and Elizabeth is magnificent (fun fact: Marsha Thomason is actually British, so her voice as Elizabeth is her “real” one, and she did a fantastic American accent!), Nathaniel Parker as Edward Gracey is still one of my top loves, and Terence Stamp as Ramsley is marvelously portrayed. Madame Leota is just as good as she is in the ride, the kids help drive the movie with their compassion, and all the ghost side characters just make the movie. I loved all the small nods to the ride (the wallpaper, the breathing door, the carriage with a dead horse, the crows, the graveyard, the dancing ghosts, etc), which made me nostalgic for the ride (which, fun fact: the last ride Walt Disney ever had some touch on-- Pirates was the last ride he had seen 99% completed-- before he died). It had a good flow of romance, comedy, darkness, scares/horror, and touched on realities of life. I loved that they told the tale of this creepy house and all its dark corners filled with ghosts, but at the heart of it, it was a love story. It was about a lost soul who had only wanted to find the love of his life. Who couldn’t understand that?

But of course, the film has some flaws-- and it is mostly plot holes. I had watched this movie recently with my mom, about a week or so ago, and I noticed some problems with the storyline. For one major aspect to me, why would the consequences of one man hanging himself because his heart was broken set off an entire curse that would lock down the mansion and touch everyone inside? Why were they all trapped because of him?

And let’s be honest: where the hell did a gypsy in a glass ball come from?

There is other little things (like how did Ramsley create a storm and flood the roads?), but I think it’s one of those stories where you can ignore those things and still enjoy the overall story. The surface story (and secondary story-- thanks film classes!) are well done on their own. It’s not like these plot holes ruin the story, they are just there if you think hard about them. And I noticed them more this time, but I still enjoy the hell out of this movie.

It’s just a really, really fun movie. The characters are wonderful, the story is great, the horror is a perfect vibe, and the connection to this beautiful ride that people have been enjoying since 1969 is fantastic. I know every time I watch this movie, it makes me cry, because I just love this movie, but it also makes me think of this ride that everyone loves.

This movie is a love letter to The Haunted Mansion ride.

#the haunted mansion #disney haunted mansion #the haunted mansion film #movie reviews

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smolfangirl · 6 years

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Just as long as I get all you tonight

A miracle came upon me yesterday and my hands allowed me to finish this idea I had while watching ep43, so of course I don’t want to keep it from you :D The title is from “Valentine” by 5SOS and the whole couch thing relies on the “Rubyred” trilogy by Kerstin Gier - thanks Disney for choosing a green sofa and giving me all kinds of flashbacks hehe

Word count: 2k

///

“Do you like Michel?”

His tone changes out of nowhere. It’s cold now, like the expression on his face. Distant. Harsh like a door falling shut right in front of her. It takes Luna by surprise, if she’s honest. Just a second ago, she thought they were fine, after all, they were working to solve his problem, together. She thought things would get better, now that he accepted her help, now that he trusts her to find a solution with him.

However, Matteo doesn’t seem fine. He seems miserable.

“What? Why are you asking me that?” she wants to know. Her head is struggling to catch up with his mood swing, not for the first time. This is one of the things that irritated her so much about him, his ability to switch to some grumpy, annoyed version of himself in the blink of an eye, without a warning. But maybe this isn’t a mood swing. Maybe he felt like this all day and this is only his façade breaking at the cracks and she simply failed to see it coming.

“It doesn’t matter, just answer the question, Luna.”

She tilts her head, inspects him. Sees the frown on his face, the thin line of his mouth, the storm in his eyes. “Wait… chico fresa, are you jealous?”

“No,” Matteo huffs, snorts almost. The familiar sound awakes memories that his words can’t silence. “I’m not jealous. We are friends. You and I. Friends… nothing more.”

A grin tugs on the corner of her mouth, too wide to hide it from him. “I don’t.” He raises his eyebrow at her, the silent question almost making her giggle. “Huh?”

“I don’t like Michel. Like that, I mean. He’s nice and all, but we are just friends and I don’t have any intentions of changing that,” she explains. For a moment, Matteo stares at her, out of words.

Then, slowly as her words untangle their meaning in his brain, the light returns to his eyes. It softens them, fills them with warmth to a point where she fights the urge to kiss him right here, right now, where breathing might become a real struggle if she keeps looking at him.

“Okay,” he mumbles. Smiles.

They both know that he is much happier about this than he should be, than is appropriate for the friends they both claim to be.

Friends. The word alone elicits a huff in the back of her throat. Luna wants more than that. She thinks he wants more, too. She’s sure, actually. But her nerves feel worn out from all these past days in which they tiptoed around each other, always finding an excuse to talk and to touch without ever feeling brave enough to make a move.

The memory of his hand holding hers on this afternoon lingers in her mind. Of the hug they shared, of the smile he gave her then, of the smile he is giving her this moment. “You know I like someone else, right?” she blurts out.

“Do I?” Hurt leaks into his tone, and while her heart trembles in her chest, he stares a hole into the ground. Matteo gets up and starts to walk around, like a tiger in a cage. Up and down. Back and forth. No rest, no eye contact.

“Matteo.”

“What, Luna? Do you want to tell me you’re in love with someone else? Because I don’t really think I want to hear that. And anyway, I shouldn’t have asked, we aren’t here to talk about this Michel or… someone else, after all. I should’ve just kept my mouth shut. We should keep practicing.”

Luna rolls her eyes at him, which he fails to notice, of course. Shouldn’t he be smarter than to believe she liked someone that wasn’t her chico fresa? Had she really been this subtle?

Carefully, she stands up. Walks over to him, intertwines her fingers with his. “Matteo, don’t.” More words hide behind her lips, cling to the tip of her tongue. Words like I love you and I want to kiss you and never let you go. Words she can’t let out, because suddenly she remembers how mad he sounded when she heard him talking to Simón and how she still can’t quite believe him when he says there’s nothing to forgive.

Maybe he doesn’t want to be more than friends.

“Can I ask you something?” Luna whispers while his thumb brushes over her skin. “But I need you to be honest with me.”

In search for some courage, for hope, her eyes dart up to find his gaze. In the dim light, the brown of his iris merges into a darker tone, almost like a black hole in space destined to consume her.

She doesn’t even fight to escape it.

“Sure.”

She feels like the world stopped moving around them. For what appears to turn into an eternity, they silently get lost in each other, in the gentle touches of their hands. Her breath goes harder than before, although she hasn’t moved at all. There’s only Matteo, only him.

Always him.

“Like, honest honest. The most honest.”

Matteo chuckles. His fingertips caress her cheek, just for a second, but it’s enough to stop her brain in its track. “Okay. Whatever it is, I promise I’ll be the most honest to you, chica delivery.”

Breaking away, Luna wonders how she will live on in case his answer differs from what she prays to hear. Her foot taps holes in her shoe as she gathers her courage. “Are you mad at me? For what happened with the video? At the gate? It’s okay if you are, really, I get it, I should’ve… I just want to know, well, because I…”

“Hey, Luna, breathe, will you?” Matteo interrupts her waterfall. He’s laughing, giving her a glimpse of hope she didn’t dare to dream of. “I’m not mad at you.”

Her gaze darts back to him. “You aren’t?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

Silence. A smile hushes over her face when she finds their hands embracing each other again. It’s a casual touch, simple even, yet few things in her life feel as beautiful and right as this. “I really like you, Matteo.”

“I won’t ever stop loving you, Luna.”

She gasps. She can’t help it, she’s too enchanted. He sounded certain when he said those words to Emilia, and he still sounds certain when he says them to her now. It blows Luna’s mind, how someone like Matteo, whose mind changes too often, too fast for her to catch up, can be so secure over something like this. Over someone like her.

It blows her mind, while it also fills her with wonder if she goes far enough to show him she feels the same. That she’s certain too, finally.

She squeezes his hand, whispers, “I don’t want to lose you.”

The resulting smile on his lips is too much for her little heart. The Matteo in front of her shines like the sun, he beams, and he’s a stunning sight to behold. “You won’t.”

He pulls her into a hug. His scent surrounds her, she takes it in, lets it imprint his name on every part of her, body and soul. Her name slips out of his mouth as soft as a feather falling to the ground, and she wants to tell him it belongs to him now, just like everything else of her is his to keep. But his lips find her mouth before a single letter forms in her head and for a while, that’s what her whole world consists of – his kisses.

It’s a beautiful world.

///

The couch. Sitting on his lap. The pull of his mouth, the force of his love in every kiss he gives her. Her hands around his neck, in his hair. His arms on her waist, holding her, supporting her.

Everything falls into place for Luna, everything feels perfect. A smile flashes over her lips as they break apart for nothing more than a heartbeat, and even with her eyes closed she knows the same happiness sticks to his face. Their next kiss begins slower, more patient, with her cupping his cheeks, keeping him as close as possible.

When it’s only him and her, Luna doesn’t believe anything better than that exists.

Except that, somehow, they’re not alone anymore.

An apologetic cough reaches her ears from behind, and if it wouldn’t be so rude, Luna would gladly ignore that person to kiss Matteo some more. She doesn’t, though. Instead, she breaks apart to glance over her shoulder.

Michel.

Matteo’s grip on her waist tightens. In the corner of her eyes, Luna recognizes a grin like only her chico fresa can wear it, even when annoyance lingers in his eyes.

“What’s the matter?” Luna inquires, her tone too casual for Michel to notice she’d rather have him gone.

His gaze hurries from her to Matteo, back to her. Unusual enough, he’s not smiling, not that she can wind up any pity for him when he’s the reason Matteo’s fingertips aren’t sneaking underneath her top anymore. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Michel explains, mustering a slight grin. “I wanted to show you something.” With his head, he points at the skates dangling over his shoulder.

Matteo huffs. “Now isn’t really a good time, we’re a bit occupied here in case you didn’t notice.”

Turning back to Matteo, Luna tries to warn him with a single glare. For whatever reason he doesn’t like the exchange student, now isn’t the ideal moment to pick a fight, and she knows him enough to figure that this is what he’s about to start.

Although he raises one eyebrow at her – What? I’m not doing anything – he stops to burn Michel alive with his gaze.

Luna looks back at Michel. He’s staring at her as well, or more at the traces Matteo’s finger leave on her back. Heat rushes to her cheeks, sets her on fire as she grows aware of just how much warmth Matteo’s lap radiates. How he holds her closer than ever before.

The full sentences inside her head melt into a puddle of tangled letters while her voice crashes at the edges. “Later maybe?”

“Oh. I was kinda hoping I could show you now.”

But now I want to kiss Matteo before my parents start searching for me too and say dinner is ready.

“After dinner?” she suggests, trying her best to stay patient with him, no matter how long he interrupts them. (Meanwhile, Matteo’s touches lose all patience, grow fiercer, more desperate. She just wants to kiss him again, goddamnit.)

Michel shrugs, a thin smile on his lips. “Yeah, sure. Whatever.” He sways back and forth, shifting on his feet, but before his mouth can open, Matteo cuts him off. “Bye, then.”

One taunting glare and a few seconds later, they’re finally alone again.

“You are impossible, chico fresa!” Luna exclaims, smacking his chest when he tries to get another taste of her lips. “Don’t be so rude to him, no matter how jealous you are! And you were totally jealous, don’t even try to deny it!”

A shrug, and a sly chuckle. “I’m just… really happy I am here with you right now. Or is that not allowed, chica delivery?” Another attempt to kiss her. This time, she lets him, if only for an instant.

When she pulls away, he struggles to contain a heavy sigh.

Rolling her eyes at him (or pretending to), Luna fights the curl her mouth forms into. Fails, because his hand runs over her cheek, and the butterflies inside her rampage her stomach in the prettiest way, and he’s hers, completely. “Still, you could be nicer to him. And you have absolutely no reason to be jealous, you hear me? None.”

“I like that,” he replies, earning himself a peck on his cheek. “But I still don’t like him.”

“Matteo, really, sometimes…”

He bops her nose, gives her no chance to finish her sentence. “Do you want to argue with me or can we continue where we left off?” he asks as if this question is a no-brainer, as if he already knows the answer.

Luckily for him, Luna knows it, too.

#soy luna #lutteo #my sl fanfiction #mandy gives no ducks #I'm pretty happy with the results and I still wouldn't mind Lutteo making out on the couch in the show #choosing a goddamn title was harder than writing this whole thing but I didn't want to use my working title...

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stark-park · 7 years

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Once Upon a Child (7/9)

Chapter: 7 - Treasure, Bruno Stars

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 8 9

Summary: With their daughter enjoying her happy beginning and their infant son still young, Snowing decide they need a hobby, or at least, a way to help Storybrooke in the ways they used to with their kingdom in the Enchanted Forest. Therefore they decide to help those most unfortunate: the orphaned and lost children at Misthaven Home for Children. But when one child is unlike the others, their hearts and their home go out to him in the hopes they can help.

Rating: PG, there's nothing too horrifying, mostly fluff

Disclaimer: Based on ABC's Once Upon A Time and I do not own any of their characters, plots or locations. I am but a loyal fan, loving of the show and simply borrowing the beautiful characters.

It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon. The sheep were grazing peacefully, birds sang from the treetops and Wilby was stretched out on the porch. Snow sat reading a book alongside the lazing pooch, with Neal playing at her feet. All in all, it was a charming Disney-esc day.

David arrived in front of the house with an excited passenger. There was a shine emanating from the boy; a happiness in visiting the farmhouse once more.

"Snow!" He greeted, rushing up the steps before fawning over his favourite pup.

"Ellion, how does a treasure hunt before lunch sound to you?" Snow asked, smiling with a reserved certainty.

"A treasure hunt? That sounds brilliant!" Ellion shrieked. He bounced on the spot, all ready to begin his adventure.

"We've tried to make it fun. There are lots of clues and things for you to collect. I hope you don't get through it too quickly." Snow continued.

"What's the first clue?" Ellion asked, itching to start.

"Well," David smirked, "A companion will come in handy." At first, Ellion thought David was to join him on his quest, before he ultimately realised this was in fact, the first clue.

"A companion?" Ellion repeated, rifling through his knowledge of vocabulary.

"It means-" Snow started, the teacher in her rising, except she needn't explain.

"-friend?" He said.

"That's right." David confirmed, with a nod of his head too. Ellion put his hand to his chin, looking at Wilby as he thought of what the answer could be. Then, he actually saw what his eyes were looking at: Wilby!

"Find it!" Ellion cried, and Wilby leapt off the porch with the boy struggling to keep up.

"I suppose dinner is in order." David mentioned, trotting up the porch steps.

"Dinner would be great!" Snow agreed, opening her book and lifting her feet, still in her fluffy white rabbit slippers, onto the outdoor coffee table.

Meanwhile, Wilby zoomed across the yard, leading Ellion to the hay bales where he first smiled. In gaining his breath, the boy took a seat and watched the dog nudge the bucket over with his head, revealing a toy bone for Wilby and a smaller bucket for Ellion.

He peeped inside the bucket to find a post-it note with the letter 'O' on. Confused, he lifted it from it's stuck position to find there was another note, a more valuable note in his quest: the next clue.

"In this place you will find, the treasure with some gold inside. This may be strange, but don't yet scramble, for co-operation, is no shamble." He read aloud, as if Wilby would continue helping him.

"Wait," Ellion told himself, "It doesn't say co-operation, it says coop-eration." He found the word unusual, certain it was not supposed to look that way. That's when he put all the clues together: gold inside, scramble, coop-eration.

"Come on Wilby." Ellion hurried, jogging to the chicken coop. Once he got there, he was careful not to disturb the resting hens, some of which were clucking away outside in their wire pen. He opened the roof slowly, the light seeping into the shadows, quickly reaching in and collecting his prize. It was an egg, this time the letter 'L' was painted on it.

Turning the egg in every direction, it soon became clear there was no clue written on it. Ellion peeked inside the coop again but there was nothing else inside besides chickens. He sat on the floor, Wilby lying in front of him, his ears flapping about as the child talked at him.

"Where's the clue? Huh? What does L mean?" He quizzed the pup. He put the egg on the floor and looked at the coop instead. That's when Wilby took a sniff, then bit through it!

"No!" Ellion yelled. Fortunately, Wilby spit the egg onto the floor and backed away, shaking his fluffy head as he did so.

"Huh." It turned out, the prize was not an egg after all, simply shaped as an egg. While a real egg may have cracked under the dog's teeth, this did not. Ellion found a faint line running round the middle, deciding to twist the two halves and hope something came of it. It did. Out fell a tiny scroll with the next clue.

"Hey. Neigh. Don't forget to shut the door, as you do not live in one... how bizarre. What do you think this means Wilby? Hey? Hey? Neigh? Well... neigh is the sound a horse makes. Hey, horse? Oh! Hay. It must be hay. They keep hay in the barn. So there must be something in the barn." He stood up, placed the egg and clue inside the bucket and journeyed to his next destination: the barn.

There was a lot of space to cover, so Ellion just started looking, thinking there was no clever way in searching once inside the barn. After struggling to move a few of the bales, the boy gave in to defeat, opting to sit on the victor instead. His head in his hands, he watched the dog panting in front of him.

"I can't find it." He admitted glumly.

Wilby barked back.

"This place is too big!" Ellion complained.

The dog barked once more.

"What? I don't know!" The boy shouted in frustration, standing up and pacing, "I can't find it! I can't-" In his pacing, he'd noticed a wall hanging, a wall hanging with a horse printed on it.

"Yes! Wilby you clever boy!" He declared, rushing over to it. As he got closer, Ellion realised it was actually a shield rather than a normal painting. Behind it, precariously hung a wooden sword with the letter 'N' etched into the hilt. Fluttering to floor was the post-it note with the next clue:

You and he are more alike than you think. You both carry a sword. You are both of Greek descent. You both dwell in a loving environment. Yet there are a few differences, number 1 being: he is a cartoon.

"I know this one." The boy said calmly, humming a tune as he left the barn. His treasure was exactly what he thought and where he thought. Inside the Hercules DVD was the letter 'O' and the next clue:

Picture this. You are much closer than you think.

"I'm confused." Ellion told his companion. David, who was preparing lunch in the kitchen, strained to overhear the pair of treasure hunters. Admitting true defeat this time after a thorough rummage of the living room, Ellion set himself down at the kitchen table.

"How's it going?" David asked, thinking the boy was doing rather well this early in the hunt.

"Terrible!" He replied, much to the man's surprise.

"Well, maybe I can help."

"Is that allowed?" Ellion asked cautiously, thinking there were some unspoken rules to the game.

"Of course, no matter what, me and Snow will always be here to help." David reassured him, "Now, what's the clue?"

"Picture this. You are much closer than you think." The boy huffed.

"Hmm, that does seem tricky. I always find that a quick look out the window usually helps me to sort things out." David replied, switching the oven on to preheat. After a beat, he noticed Ellion hadn't moved.

"Not this window, try one closer to where you found the last clue." David nudged. The boy trotted to the living room window. He looked out, noticing the parked car, surrounding trees and lots of flowers. Then thought about looking closer, taking notice of the cluttered window sill. There were lots of photos. Pictures! He scanned them all and found what he was looking for. It was a photo frame, the word 'family' embossed on it, with the letter 'N' and a clue written down in place of the picture.

At that moment, Snow walked through to the kitchen with a moaning baby. She fixed him a snack then enjoyed watching Ellion on his hunt.

"Like the members of a family, this is great to snuggle with. Unlike the members of a family, this is mostly made of wool. These also make the greatest of forts... Any idea Wilby?"

The mention of the dog's name made Snow squeal in silence. The cuteness of the pair was heart-melting. It was such a wonderful sight to see the boy, who'd for so long been alone and afraid, embrace the new start he'd been given in Storybrooke.

"Snow..." Ellion mumbled, "Can you help me please?"

"Oh, uh, um." Snow stuttered. She hadn't expected to be a part of the hunt. She left Neal in his high chair enjoying some carrot sticks and joined Ellion in the living room.

"Let's see, what can be made out of wool?" Snow hinted.

"Clothes!" Ellion guessed.

"Yes, but can you snuggle with clothes?"

"Oh... hmm..."

It was clear this riddle was too much of a challenge so Snow upped her help: "What is usually fluffy and goes on your bed to keep you warm?"

Ellion paused, thinking hard about the question. "It starts with "b" but I forgot."

"That's okay," Snow reassured him, "I'll tell you the answer and you tell me where we can find clean, fresh ones. The answer, is blanket."

"Oh!" Ellion fumed, "I knew that word! And I know where they are kept! In the cupboard!"

"That's right!" The two of them galloped up the staircase to the closet by the bathroom. Inside they found a fluffy crimson blanket with the letter "A" stitched on and the clue the other side.

"These come as a pair. Keep them together you can try. Take a sniff when they're dirty, if you dare. Cheese has something to do with them, can you find out why? Now for their whereabouts: the answer you might have got. They reside in the room with the cot." Ellion took a breather, concentrating on the words. "That is a long clue."

"Does that make it easier or harder then?" Snow asked. Not only was it great for her to see him enjoying the game, it was also a nice way to test his understanding of phrases and vocabulary.

"Both." He stated, "There are two parts. The first part tells you what it is, I'm not sure yet. The second part is where, that part is easy! A cot is a crib, so we have to go to Neal's room."

As soon as they entered, Ellion noticed a pile of laundry waiting to be put away, on top were a pair of Neal's teensy socks. "Socks!" He bellowed excitedly, turning to the chest of drawers and wardrobe.

"Second one down." Snow disclosed, knowing it might take too long if the boy went through each and every option.

He pulled out the drawer, rummaged around for a second, until pulling out a pair awfully large for Neal. There was a yellow 'L' embroidered on both the navy socks. Sticking it on his hand like a sock puppet, Ellion retrieved the next clue.

"Where you snooze, I do too... my bedroom? The one I stayed in a few week go?" He said.

"A few weeks ago." Snow corrected softly, having found the balance in correcting his speech without making him feel self-conscious within their English sessions. "And yes, you're right."

They plodded along the landing, reaching the third bedroom. The sheets had been switched since he was here last, from a blue plaid, to a plain black with yellow 5-pointed stars printed on it. Ellion was still befuddled over why this shape was used to represent a star, but he was now used to the concept; apparently, he'd found, this shape in various colours with a sticky side was a form of significant praise in school.

He found the clue without difficulty. Sitting against the pillows was a blue striped cushion in the shape of an 'E' and a note hidden underneath it.

"This is a central tool in baking! Also, without this, what would you bang on the pots and pans to make such great tunes? Tunes, that is sound, right?" He questioned. Snow replied with a nod of her head and a wide grin, her happiness forced its way upon her face: she knew Ellion was a fast learner, but she was amazed by his progress all the same.

Ellion's memory brought up a recent music lesson they'd had with Snow. In front of each student she'd placed different instruments; triangles, xylophones, recorders, whistles, symbols, and then she'd placed a few cooking pots and frying pans with wooden spoons next to them. It was a fond memory, loud, but very enjoyable.

He crossed the hallway, made his way down the stairs and skipped promptly to the kitchen.

"Hey, you finished already?" David asked when they entered. Wilby was taking a well-deserved break at his master's feet, while David rested said feet with a sit down at the kitchen table. Neal had fallen asleep in his high chair so in the interest of avoiding a choking infant, David removed the carrot stick hanging from his son's mouth.

"Not yet. We're looking for a spoon." Ellion explained. He opened up the cutlery draw, realising there were no large utensils, he opened the one below. Amongst the tongs, tin-opener, whisk and various other spoons, there was a wooden spoon with a sticky note attached. This letter was 'I' with a clue reading:

I'm great in the rain. I'm great in the mud. Don't ruin your sneakers, I can help you. Put me on and let the puddles become your friends.

"It's a shoe." Immediately, Ellion remarked.

"But what kind of shoe?" David asked. Wondering if the child had in fact come across the word before.

Turns out, he hadn't, but that didn't stop him describing what kind of shoe he knew it to be. "They're taller than boots. But not boots. Neal has bright green ones! Yours are by the front door."

"Well then, why don't you go see if you're right?" David told him, sharing a grin between himself and his wife at how well the treasure hunt was going. Not only was it fun, it was a brilliant way to help Ellion learn and remember words that he might not use in his everyday vocabulary.

"Them." Ellion pointed. He bounced on the spot as he waited for Snow to join him on the front porch.

"They're called wellies." Snow responded.

Weirdly, there were now four pairs. He could've sworn he'd remembered only three; David's monstrously sized pair, Snow's slightly muddy pair and Neal's dinky green pair. Now, there was a fourth, in between Neal's and Snow's that were bright yellow. Ellion picked them up, turned them over in his hands, before plunging his arm into the first welly. With no luck, he searched inside the second, before pulling out a rolled up piece of paper. There was another 'L' written on the note with a final clue on the other side.

We hope you've enjoyed your hunt. Now, standing out front. It's time to join us inside. Where your last piece of treasure hides.

Remember your manners, as you always do. Not everyone receives this gift. So make yourself swift. Hurry and come on through!

"It's the last one?" Ellion asked rather miserably. He knew not what was around the corner though.

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 8 9

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bankofmarquis · 5 years

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Movie Review - ALADDIN

Unnecessary...a money grab...what was Will Smith thinking...why would Disney do this? All complaints that were written regarding the live action remake of the beloved 1992 Animated classic, ALADDIN. And...they would be wrong...as this ALADDIN is fun, fanciful, fast(ish) paced and fantastical. It also has something that I was surprised by...heart. For those of you living in the "Cave of Wonder" for the past 20+ years, Aladdin follows the adventures of a street urchin who falls in love with a Princess and battles the evil Vizier, Jafar, for power via an enchanted lamp that houses a Genie that will grant 3 wishes. Disney has shown it can do these remakes well when sticking to the source material (as was evidenced by the 2016 live action remake of the 1967 animated classic THE JUNGLE BOOK), but also has failed when it takes the characters, but not the story (the recent DUMBO), so Writer/Director Guy Ritchie (of all people) was smart to "just take the animated movie" and remake it as live action. And...it works! Ritchie (SNATCH, the Robert Downey SHERLOCK HOLMES) seems to be an odd choice to helm this film, but he acquits himself quite well, relying on the pageantry and spectacle of it all to carry the day. The chase scenes are serviceable, but Ritchie's direction does get a bit clunky when the film slows down and focuses on the central love story. Using performers - for the most part - of Middle Eastern descent, Ritchie coaxes "good enough" performances from Mena Massoud as Aladdin and Naomi Scott as Jasmine. They are pleasant enough on screen but was stronger apart than together. I wouldn't call it "lack of chemstry", but rather, "medium chemistry". But when they are paired with others - or get the chance to shine on their own - they do quite well. Scott plays well against Navid Negahban who brings a deepness of heart to his character of Jasmine's father, the Sultan and, especially, Nasim Pedrad (so that's what she's been doing since leaving SNL) as her handmaiden, Dalia (a character not in the animated film). Massoud, of course, spends a great deal of this film playing off the Genie character. So let's talk about Will Smith's performance in the iconic Robin Williams role. EVERYONE (including myself) was asking why Smith would take on this role. It's a "lose/lose" proposition, trying to fill the shoes of one of the wildest, wackiest and most frenetic performances in screen history. So Smith does a very smart thing - he doesn't even try. He makes this Genie "his own" not trying to mimic Williams' performance, but rather creating a charming, friendly and funny Genie with heart (there's that word again) behind his eyes. It is a strong performance by Smith - one that only a performer with his charm and charisma could pull off. His presence in this film elevates the proceedings and I wanted more of this character. The music you know and love is all there - and they are welcome presences in this film - though they felt abbreviated (maybe it's just because I'm more familiar with the Soundtrack performances of these songs and not how they were used in the original film) and there is an Original number, a "girl power" song for Jasmine that felt a little too "Disney Channel" to me - but I don't think I'm the target audience for that song, so I'll cut it some slack. A slight downgrade in the final rating of this film needs to be made because of the "meh" characterization and performance of the main villain, Jafar. As played by Marwan Kenzari, this Jafar was seething and menacing but never really bigger than life and threatening - qualities that make Jafar one of the better villains in the Disney animated canon. But, ultimately, this film will succeed or fail, I think, by your reaction to Smith's interpretation of the Genie. It's NOT Robin Williams, and that's a good thing. For me, Smith...and this film...succeeds. Letter Grade: A- 8 stars (out of 10) and you can take that to the Bank(OfMarquis)

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selenatorsphilippines · 7 years

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Selena Gomez on Instagram Fatigue, Good Mental Health, and Stepping Back From the Limelight

On an unusually wet and windy evening in Los Angeles, Selena Gomez shows up at my door with a heavy bag of groceries. We’ve decided that tonight’s dinner will be a sort of tribute to the after-church Sunday barbecues she remembers from her Texan childhood. I already have chicken simmering in green salsa, poblano peppers blackening on the flames of the stove, and red cabbage wilting in a puddle of lime juice. All we need are Gomez’s famous cheesy potatoes—so bad they’re good, she promises. She sets down her Givenchy purse and brings up, in gaudy succession, a frozen package of Giant Eagle Potatoes O’Brien, a can of Campbell’s Cream of Chicken soup, a bag of shredded “Mexican cheese,” and a squat plastic canister of French’s Crispy Fried Onions.

“I bet you didn’t think we were going to get this real,” she says, and when I tell her that real isn’t the first word that springs to mind when faced with these ingredients, she responds with the booming battle-ax laugh that offers a foretaste of Gomez’s many enchanting incongruities.

But real is precisely what I was expecting from the 24-year-old Selena, just as her 110 million Instagram followers (Selenators, as they’re known) have come to expect it. Of course, celebrity’s old codes are long gone, MGM’s untouchable eggshell glamour having given way to the “They’re Just Like Us!” era of documented trips to the gas station and cellulite captured by telephoto lenses. But Gomez and her ilk have gone further still, using their smartphones to generate a stardom that seems to say not merely “I’m just like you” but “I am you.”

“People so badly wanted me to be authentic,” she says, laying a tortilla in sizzling oil, “and when that happened, finally, it was a huge release. I’m not different from what I put out there. I’ve been very vulnerable with my fans, and sometimes I say things I shouldn’t. But I have to be honest with them. I feel that’s a huge part of why I’m where I am.” Gomez traces her shift toward the unfiltered back to a song she released in 2014 called “The Heart Wants What It Wants,” a ballad about loving a guy she knows is bad news. The title derives from a letter written by Emily Dickinson, though Woody Allen reintroduced the phrase when he used it to describe his relationship with Soon-Yi Previn. We can assume that Gomez is referring here to Justin Bieber, with whom she ended a three-year relationship at around the time the song debuted.

If you are over 30 and find yourself somewhat mystified by Gomez’s fame, unable to attach it to any art object—apart from several inescapable pop songs and a cameo in The Big Short in which, as herself, she explains synthetic collateralized debt obligations—then you might wish to watch the video for “The Heart Wants What It Wants.” (You will be late to the party; it received more than nine million views in the first 24 hours following its release.) Before the music begins, we hear Gomez’s voice as if from a recorded psychotherapy session, ruminating over a betrayal. “Feeling so confident, feeling so great about myself,” she says, her voice breaking, “and then it’d just be completely shattered by one thing. By something so stupid.” Sobs. “But then you make me feel crazy. You make me feel like it’s my fault.” Is this acting? Is it a HIPAA violation? Either way, there is magic in the way it makes you feel as if you’ve just shared in her suffering. Pay dirt for a Selenator.

Gomez queues up a playlist—Dolly Parton, Kenny Rogers—and back in the kitchen, there is a chile relleno casserole to assemble, green enchiladas to roll, and her cheesy potatoes to mix together. As I slip an apron over her mane of chocolate-brown hair, for which Pantene has paid her millions, and tie it around her tiny waist, I wonder whether her legions have felt for years the same sharp pang of protectiveness that I’m feeling at present. Even as she projects strength and self-assuredness, Gomez is not stingy with frailty. “I’ve cried onstage more times than I can count, and I’m not a cute crier,” she says. Last summer, after the North American and Asian legs of her “Revival” tour, with more than 30 concerts remaining, she abruptly shut things down and checked into a psychiatric facility in Tennessee. (This was the second time Gomez had canceled a tour to enter into treatment; in January 2014, shortly after being diagnosed with lupus, she spent two weeks at the Meadows, the Arizona center that has welcomed Tiger Woods, Rush Limbaugh, and Kate Moss.) The cause, she says, was not an addiction or an eating disorder or burnout, exactly.

“Tours are a really lonely place for me,” she explains. “My self-esteem was shot. I was depressed, anxious. I started to have panic attacks right before getting onstage, or right after leaving the stage. Basically I felt I wasn’t good enough, wasn’t capable. I felt I wasn’t giving my fans anything, and they could see it—which, I think, was a complete distortion. I was so used to performing for kids. At concerts I used to make the entire crowd raise up their pinkies and make a pinky promise never to allow anybody to make them feel that they weren’t good enough. Suddenly I have kids smoking and drinking at my shows, people in their 20s, 30s, and I’m looking into their eyes, and I don’t know what to say. I couldn’t say, ‘Everybody, let’s pinky-promise that you’re beautiful!’ It doesn’t work that way, and I know it because I’m dealing with the same shit they’re dealing with. What I wanted to say is that life is so stressful, and I get the desire to just escape it. But I wasn’t figuring my own stuff out, so I felt I had no wisdom to share. And so maybe I thought everybody out there was thinking, This is a waste of time.”

On August 15, Gomez uploaded a photo of almost baroque drama: her body collapsed on the stage, bathed in beatific light. Whether this was agony or ecstasy, it drew more than a million comments from fans (who have handles like “selena_is_my_life_forever”). It would be her last Instagram post for more than three months. She flew to Tennessee, surrendered her cell phone, and joined a handful of other young women in a program that included individual therapy, group therapy, even equine therapy. “You have no idea how incredible it felt to just be with six girls,” she says, “real people who couldn’t give two shits about who I was, who were fighting for their lives. It was one of the hardest things I’ve done, but it was the best thing I’ve done.” She stayed for 90 days, making her first post-treatment appearance last November at the American Music Awards, where she collected the trophy for Favorite Pop/Rock Female Artist and gave a tearful speech about her struggles; it quickly went viral.

In the tearoom at the Peninsula Beverly Hills hotel, little girls in pinafores and pink high-tops sit on heavily tasseled sofas and drink sparkling apple juice out of champagne flutes. One by one they approach our table, shyness replaced by rapturous giggles as Gomez praises their pretty dresses and invites them to sit with her for a picture. Her seemingly infinite patience with these intrusions is something between a habit and a principle. “Somebody I used to hang out with would always get very frustrated with me,” she says, presumably referring to Bieber, whose name she will not utter. “But I have a hard time saying no to children.”

Donna Gigliotti, who produced The Fundamentals of Caring, a 2016 drama in which Gomez plays the love interest of a boy with muscular dystrophy, recalls the throngs of children ready to engulf her outside the set even in rural Georgia. “They love her because she is so generous and so authentic,” Gigliotti says. “I admit that I didn’t quite understand her huge fan base at first. Now I see her as a sort of third-generation feminist. She’s adorable and flirty and funny, but she’s also kind of kick-ass. I think her young fans go wild for that combination.”

“There’s a vulnerability about Selena,” says Paul Rudd, her costar in The Fundamentals of Caring. “She’s never trying to sell herself or impress anyone. She doesn’t put on airs, and she was a good sport about really long days in sometimes uncomfortable conditions. You’d never know she was so famous by the way she behaved, which, I think, is a huge key to her appeal.”

Doll-like and startled in pictures but almost breathtakingly at ease in person, Gomez was once described by her good friend Taylor Swiftas “both 40 years old and seven years old.” She grew up in Grand Prairie, Texas, raised by a single mother who was sixteen when she was born. Gomez remembers being asked to feel between the cushions in the car for change so that they could buy Styrofoam cups of ramen. But at age seven, after a few years on the pageant circuit, she landed a role on the children’s show Barney & Friends, which shot in Dallas and recruited talent locally. By twelve she was one of Disney’s young players, plucked out of thousands of hopefuls. At thirteen she moved to Los Angeles with her mother and stepfather, and the following year Disney gave her the lead in Wizards of Waverly Place, a sitcom about a family of wizards who own a downtown Manhattan restaurant. The show was a hit, and Disney did what Disney does, fanning Gomez’s talent across music and movies, with her mother, Mandy Teefey, continuing to act as her manager. (Gomez hired a Hollywood management firm in 2014, after her first mental-health crisis, but she continues to develop projects with her mother and prizes her opinion above all others.) “I worked with Disney for four years,” Gomez says. “It’s a very controlled machine. They know what they represent, and there was, 100 percent, a way to go about things.”

No child star enjoys easy passage through the morass of adolescence, and Gomez struggled to shed her blandly perky Wizards persona. “For a guy there’s a way to rebel that can work for you,” she believes. “But for a woman, that can backfire. It’s hard not to be a cliché, the child star gone wrong. I did respect my fans and what I had, but I was also figuring out what I was passionate about and how far I was willing to go.” The first thing she did post-Disney was Harmony Korine’s darkly lurid Spring Breakers, a 2013 film about four college girls on a rampage of sex, drugs, and murder. (Gomez played Faith, the one who can’t quite stomach it all and heads back early.) “My mom wanted me to work with a director who would really push me,” she recalls. “I watched Kids, Trash Humpers, Gummo, and I was like, Mom, are you crazy? But it was fun to imagine how you might behave if you were set free of whatever was holding you captive. I’m a late bloomer. I grew up around adults, but in terms of getting out, having friends—at times I really didn’t know anything but my job.”

In retrospect, Gomez’s childhood successes were always tinged with sadness. “My mom gave up her whole life for me,” she explains. “Where we’re from, you don’t really leave. So when I started gaining all this success, there was a guilt that came with it. I thought, Do I deserve this?” Though she has been in several other films since Spring Breakers, Gomez has enjoyed greater success as a musician. And yet the musician’s life exhausts her. On film sets she is buffered by the ensemble and can retreat into her character, but in a concert, all eyes fix upon her. “It’s weird,” she says, “to get up onstage and have everybody know where you were last night.”

With the tour and treatment behind her, lately Gomez is feeling unusually relaxed. The Netflix miniseries 13 Reasons Why, which she executive-produced, airs this month, and it addresses several issues dear to her, among them teen suicide and the pressures of social media. Eight years ago, Gomez and her mother reached out to Jay Asher, who wrote the novel from which the series has been adapted. Its title refers to the thirteen reasons why its protagonist, Hannah Baker, chose to take her life. “I didn’t know much about Selena back then,” Asher remembers. “I think I watched Princess Protection Program to prepare. She explained to me how deeply she connected to the book, which is really about how there’s no way to know what people deal with. In that very first meeting we talked about Twitter, and I remember her telling me that there’s this idea that celebrities aren’t supposed to notice or care about what’s being said about them. But she can’t help but care.”

Gomez has also been in the recording studio off and on, and in February she released “It Ain’t Me,” a song cut last November, produced by the Norwegian DJ Kygo. It’s both a dance-floor anthem and a polemic against dependency and enmeshment. (“Who’s gonna walk you through the dark side of the morning?” she sings. “It ain’t me.” A few years back, it might well have been Gomez.) She is collaborating with Coach on a line of accessories, out this fall, and Stuart Vevers, the house’s creative director, recently met with her in Los Angeles for a bit of brainstorming. “There’s a very warm and inclusive way that Selena has with her fans,” Vevers says. “That’s the nature of her power. What fashion house wouldn’t want to tap into that?”

There are no movies in the works and no time pressure from her record label. “For a change,” she says, “it feels like I don’t have to be holding my breath and waiting for somebody to judge a piece of work that I’m doing. I’m not eager to chase a moment. I don’t think there’s a moment for me to chase.” Gomez currently lives in an Airbnb in the Valley and honestly doesn’t get out much, except for long drives with her girlfriends: a realtor, a techie, some folks from church. “I think seventeen people have my phone number right now,” she says. “Maybe two are famous.” She is taking Spanish, which she spoke fluently as a little girl but lost, in the hope of recording some Spanish-language music in the future. She sees her shrink five days a week and has become a passionate advocate of Dialectical Behavior Therapy, a technique developed to treat borderline personality disorder that is now used more broadly, with its emphasis on improving communication, regulating emotions, and incorporating mindfulness practices. “DBT has completely changed my life,” she says. “I wish more people would talk about therapy. We girls, we’re taught to be almost too resilient, to be strong and sexy and cool and laid-back, the girl who’s down. We also need to feel allowed to fall apart.”

She has hardly been posting on Instagram. In fact, the app is no longer on her phone, and she doesn’t even have the password to her own account. (It’s now in the possession of her assistant.) She sometimes fantasizes about disappearing from social media altogether. “As soon as I became the most followed person on Instagram, I sort of freaked out,” Gomez says. “It had become so consuming to me. It’s what I woke up to and went to sleep to. I was an addict, and it felt like I was seeing things I didn’t want to see, like it was putting things in my head that I didn’t want to care about. I always end up feeling like shit when I look at Instagram. Which is why I’m kind of under the radar, ghosting it a bit.”

Well, not entirely under the radar. A few days after we met, Gomez flew to Italy with her new beau, The Weeknd, and the paparazzi did not fail to notice. (Neither did The Weeknd’s ex, the model Bella Hadid, who took to social media and promptly unfollowed Gomez.) When I ask Gomez about the romance, she tells me that everything she has said about her relationships in the past has come back to bite her, and that she will never do it again.

“Oh, Mylanta!” she wails, watching her cheesy potatoes travel around the table, a whiff of the simpler joys of home. “Look, I love what I do, and I’m aware of how lucky I am, but—how can I say this without sounding weird? I just really can’t wait for people to forget about me.”

Source: Vogue

#selena gomez #vogue #2017 #magazine #article #gallery

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williamlwolf89 · 4 years

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57 Literary Devices That’ll Elevate Your Writing (+ Examples)

Where were you when your fourth-grade teacher first introduced you to literary devices?

(Did you learn about the mighty metaphor? Or maybe its simpering cousin, the simile?)

Perhaps you were daydreaming about cheese pizza and wondering what your mom packed you for lunch.

Years later, you’re starting to realize that maybe you should’ve taken better notes back then.

Because you’re a writer now, or trying to be, and it’s kind of embarrassing when your friends (or worse, your kids) come to you and ask: “What’s an onomatopoeia?”

And all you have to say is: “An onomatopoeia? Uh, well, you know it’s a species of a…a…achoo! Darn my dratted allergies!”

Never again.

Not with this handy-dandy list of 57 (count ‘em!) literary devices that will help your writing soar above the clouds… pull ahead of the teeming hordes… shine beyond the most brilliant — uh, you get the idea.

But let’s back up. You probably need a quick refresher first, right? Let’s do a quick Q&A.

Starting with…

What are Literary Devices?

Literary devices are strategies writers use to strengthen ideas, add personality to prose, and ultimately communicate more effectively. Just as chefs use unique ingredients or techniques to create culinary masterpieces (flambéed crêpes, anyone?), skilled writers use literary devices to create life-changing works of art.

So who should care about literary devices?

You, of course. If you want to be a charismatic, powerful writer that readers want to follow (or clients want to hire), that is.

The right literary devices can make your ideas more memorable, your thoughts more clear, and your writing more powerful.

Your knowledge and skillful use of literary devices will catapult you above the hordes of wannabe writers, increasing your self-confidence, and endowing you with the kind of influence that will keep your audience salivating to consume your work.

How are Literary Devices Different From Rhetorical Devices?

Literary devices and rhetorical devices have a good bit of overlap. They’re very similar — so similar, you’ll find a lot of confusing, conflicting information online.

Google “alliteration” and you’ll see it on lists for both rhetorical and literary devices. The same is true with “personification”, “tmesis”, “litotes”, and numerous others.

So what’s the difference?

Here’s an oversimplified TL;DR:

Literary devices are a narrative technique. Rhetorical devices, also known as persuasive devices or stylistic devices, are a persuasion technique.

What are the 10 Most Common Literary Devices?

Alliteration

Anthropomorphism

Dramatic Irony

Euphemism

Flashback

Foreshadowing

Hyperbole

Onomatopoeia

Oxymoron

Point of View

(Yes, we were surprised “anthropomorphism” made the list too.)

Alright, enough questions. It’s time for the main event.

Our Huge List of Literary Devices

You will find some recognizable names in this list. You will also find a few party crashers that (unless you were an English major) you’ve probably never heard of (I’m looking at you, verisimilitude).

But whether it’s a familiar friend or an idiosyncratic interloper, each and every device comes with a lovingly hand-crafted definition and an enlightening example, carefully curated by yours truly.

(Don’t say you haven’t been warned.)

Here’s our list of the 57 must-know literary devices to get you started on the road to writerly stardom:

1. Alliteration

Some super sentences supply stunning samples of alliteration, such as this one. In other words, an alliteration is a literary device that features a series of words in swift succession, all starting with the same letter.

Graceful and clever use of alliteration (not, ahem, like the example above) can create a pleasant musicality to writing.

But note: Alliterations are a special kind of consonance, which means they must use words that start with consonant sounds. Repeated vowel sounds are known as assonance.

Example of Alliteration

Most people think of tongue twisters like “Peter Piper picked a pot of pickled peppers” when they think of alliteration. But did you know many famous writers throughout the ages have used alliteration in their titles?

Love’s Labour’s Lost by William Shakespeare. The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald. Pride and Prejudice and Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen. Romance Readers and Ridiculous Rascals… wait. That last one is not actually a thing. But it is alliterative!

And I’d be remiss if I didn’t share this alliterative-filled introduction from V for Vendetta:

2. Anthropomorphism

Anthropomorphism is when a writer gives a non-human animal or object human-like qualities.

Example of Anthropomorphism

In Disney’s Beauty and the Beast, Lumiere the candlestick, Cogsworth the clock, and the other enchanted residents of the Prince/Beast’s castle talk, walk, sing, and feel emotions just like people do. (Because they technically ARE people… fictional enchanted people, that is.)

3. Dramatic Irony

Audiences love dramatic irony, because they get to be “in the know.” That is, they know something that the characters IN the story do not. Hey, if you buy the book, you get privileges!

Example of Dramatic Irony

In Oscar Wilde’s The Importance of Being Earnest, two men attempt to escape their responsibilities using the same fake name: Ernest. Only the audience knows the two tricksters’ real names are Jack and Algie. (A far cry from Ernest, for sure!)

4. Euphemism

The prefix “eu-” means “good” or “well,” so it makes sense that a “euphemism” is a “good way to talk about a bad thing.” Or, a “word or expression substituted for something else that is too harsh…”

Like when you say your nephew “just needs a bit of practice” when he plays the violin like a tortured cat.

Example of Euphemism

Because of humanity’s understandable aversion to death, we have come up with quite a few creative ways to describe death and dying:

Pushing up daisies

Going the way of the dinosaur

Kicking the bucket

5. Flashback

Flashbacks are scenes which show an event that happened in a character’s past, providing clues to the present story.

Example of Flashback

In Alfred Hitchcock’s famous movie Vertigo, one key flashback scene was almost cut out of the picture entirely. (SPOILER ALERT: It’s the scene where we find out that the suicidal wife is actually an actress hired to hide the wife’s murder. The actress starts to write a confession letter, then rips it up.)

6. Foreshadowing

The writing on the wall…

A glimpse of a tombstone with your name on it…

Fingernail marks scratched in blood…

Not all foreshadowing is creepy, but they all warn or indicate something is coming in the future. You could say that foreshadowing is like the opposite of a flashback.

Example of Foreshadowing

In the classic novel To Kill a Mockingbird, the author Harper Lee foreshadows the last twist in the story in the very first line of the book: “When he was nearly thirteen my brother Jem got his arm badly broken at the elbow.”

(Of course, by the time you get to the end of the book, you’ve probably forgotten all about the first line. But that’s why Lee is a genius and the rest of us can only wonder in awe.)

7. Hyperbole

A hyperbole is an exaggeration that a hearer or reader is not supposed to take seriously.

Example of Hyperbole

The great satirist Mark Twain wrote in Old Times on the Mississippi:

“I…could have hung my hat on my eyes, they stuck out so far.”

8. Onomatopoeia

An onomatopoeia is a word that comes from the sound it represents, such as “achoo!” or “arrgh.”

Example of Onomatopoeia

Young children’s books are the motherlode of onomatopoeia. For example, Doreen Cronin’s Click, Clack, Moo: Cows That Type has onomatopoeia right in the title. Same with Ross MacDonald’s Achoo! Bang! Crash! And Barry Gott’s Honk! Splat! Vroom!

9. Oxymoron

An oxymoron is a popular literary device where seemingly contradictory words are connected. Fun fact: the word “oxymoron” is itself oxymoronic — it comes from two ancient Greek words meaning “sharp and stupid.”

Example of Oxymoron

Simon and Garfunkel’s famous song “The Sounds of Silence” is a perfect oxymoron.

10. Point of View

Point of view is the perspective a writer chooses when writing. In fiction, you can have a first, second, or third person point of view.

First person uses pronouns like “me” or “I,” second person uses “you,” and third person uses “he/she” and looks at the character and story from the perspective of an outsider.

Note: Third person can be limited. The narrator can either only see inside the head of one character, or they can be omniscient — a Godlike narrator that can see everything that is going on.

Example of Point of View

In The Help, a novel about black maids in 1960s Jackson, Mississippi, the story is told from the first-person point of view of three women, looking at similar events from their own perspectives.

11. Allegory

Take a metaphor, put it on steroids, throw in a dash of realism, and you have yourself an allegory: a figure of speech used to represent a large, complex (and often moral) message about real-world events or issues.

Example of Allegory

Nothing screams “hypocritical tyrant” quite like fictional pigs in human clothing, declaring: “all animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others!”

At least, that’s the message George Orwell hoped to convey in Animal Farm, a fictional mirror of communism. Orwell certainly had a way with (dystopian) allegories!

12. Allusion

An allusion is a device that the writer uses to refer, indirectly, to someone or something outside of the situation, such as a person, event, or thing in another (real or imagined) world.

Example of Allusion

In The Big Bang Theory, the names of main characters Sheldon Cooper and Leonard Hofstadter allude to the real-life TV producer, Sheldon Leonard. (Let’s hope that he did not share his fictional counterparts’ personalities.)

13. Anachronism

Anachronism is the time machine of literary devices. Anachronisms pop up when a writer accidentally (or purposefully) makes an error in the chronology of the writing.

It’s most often seen when writing features slang or technology that should not appear in the timeline of the story.

Example of Anachronism

In the famous “He got me invested in some kind of fruit company” scene from Forrest Gump, Forrest Gump unfolds a thank-you letter sporting Steve Job’s Apple logo.

But the letter in the movie was sent in 1975, while Apple didn’t go public in the real world until 1980. So Forrest Gump couldn’t have invested in the computer company as the movie portrayed it. (We still love you, Forrest!)

14. Anaphora

The anaphora is a literary device that emphasizes a word, word group, or phrase by repeating it at the beginning of a series of clauses or sentences.

Example of Anaphora

One of the longest opening lines by Charles Dickens (which a high school English teacher once directed me to memorize) uses anaphora generously:

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the…”

(Thanks a lot, Dickens!)

15. Anastrophe

Anastrophe is a literary device that alters the normal order of English speech. In other words, instead of subject-verb-object (“I like cats”), the sentence order becomes subject-object-verb (“I cats like”).

Poets use anastrophe to make rhyming easier, and prose writers use it to sound… wiser?

Example of Anastrophe

Who can talk about anastrophe without mentioning our favorite intergalactic mentor? That’s right, Yoda’s iconic speeches are fantastic examples of anastrophe:

“Powerful you have become”

“Named must be your fear before banish it you can.”

“The greatest teacher, failure is.”

16. Aphorism

An aphorism is a short, witty saying that delivers wisdom with a punch. But in order for it to be an aphorism, it has to contain a universal truth, packed into a nutshell-sized statement.

Example of Aphorism

Benjamin Franklin was a master of aphorisms. Here is a prime selection from his treasure trove:

Little strokes fell great oaks

Strike while the iron is hot

Fish and visitors smell in three days

17. Archetype

An archetype is the original pattern, the prototype, the ideal model for a certain character or situation.

Example of Archetype

In the epic poem, Beowulf, Grendel is the archetypal monster, a “descendant of Cain,” “creature of darkness,” and “devourer of our human kind.” (Yikes. Would not want to meet him in a dark alley!)

18. Asyndeton

Sometimes, a writer leaves out conjunctions like and, but, or, for, and nor. This is not because s/he is forgetful. It’s because that’s what an asyndeton is: a group of phrases with the conjunctions left out, for rhythmic emphasis.

Example of Asyndeton

Here’s Abraham Lincoln beautifully demonstrating the power of the asyndeton:

“Government of the people, by the people, for the people shall not perish from the Earth.”

(Notice the glaring omission of the word “and.”)

19. Chiasmus

The Latin word “chiasm” refers to a “crossing,” so it makes sense that a chiasmus is a literary device where words, grammar constructions, and/or concepts are “crossed,” aka reversed.

Example of Chiasmus

Apparently, early Greeks were quite fond of the chiasmus, or at least Socrates was:

“Bad men live that they may eat and drink, whereas good men eat and drink that they may live.”

20. Cliffhanger

Cliffhangers get their name from the effect they have on readers: making them feel as if a cruel, cruel writer has left them dangling off the edge of a lonely ledge.

We all know that feeling of reading WAY past our bedtime, because every chapter’s ending has us frantically flipping to find out what happens next. That’s a cliffhanger.

Example of Cliffhanger

Here’s a cliffhanger from Harry Potter:

“Harry crossed to his bedroom on tiptoe, slipped inside… and turned to collapse on his bed. The trouble was, there was already someone sitting on it.”

Want to know what happens next? You’ll have to read the book.

21. Colloquialism

The word “colloquialism” would probably never be a colloquialism itself. That’s because colloquialism is a word, phrase, or expression that is used in daily, informal conversations by common people. Colloquialisms vary, depending on where you live.

Example of Colloquialism

The briefly popular 2012 meme series, “Sh*t X say,” are packed with examples of colloquialisms, such as these, er, jewels (?) from Episode 1 of “Sh*t Girls Say”:

“Twinsies!”

“Shut UP!”

“Like, I’m not even joking right now.”

22. Cumulative Sentence

A cumulative sentence builds on a core idea (an independent clause, if you must know the technical term) by layering on chopped-up partial sentences (dependent clauses) and phrases, like a layer cake!

Example of Cumulative Sentence

“She finished the Game of Thrones marathon, exhausted yet exhilarated, full of grief that it was all over, itching to call her bestie to discuss her impressions, shocked that it was already nearly dawn.”

23. Diction

Diction is a fancy way of saying: “the words a writer chooses when talking to a specific audience.” Diction can be formal or informal, use jargon or regional slang, etc.

Example of Diction

Formal diction:

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

Informal diction:

Hain’t we got all the fools in town on our side? And hain’t that a big enough majority in any town?Mark Twain, Huckleberry Finn

24. Epigraph

An epigraph is a brief quote or saying at the beginning of a book or chapter that is put there to suggest the theme of said book or chapter.

Example of Epigraph

“For Beatrice — My love for you shall live forever. You, however, did not.”

“For Beatrice — When we first met, you were pretty, and I was lonely. Now I am pretty lonely.”

“For Beatrice — I cherished, you perished. The world’s been nightmarished.”

Technically, the poetic homage to the dead Beatrice in Lemony Snicket’s Series of Unfortunate Events is a dedication, not an epigraph. But since Beatrice is fictional (as is, in a sense, the author himself), and these darkly funny quotes set the tone for the Unfortunate Events quite well, one could make the case that these are, in fact, epigraphs.

25. Epistrophe

Not to be confused with alliteration, the epistrophe is the repetition of a word or phrase at the end of a series of clauses or sentences to add rhythm and/or emphasis.

Example of Epistrophe

‘Cause if you liked it then you should have put a ring on it

If you liked it then you should have put a ring on it

Don’t be mad once you see that he want it

If you liked it then you should have put a ring on it Beyonce, Single Ladies (Put A Ring On It)

(My apologies for the ear worm.)

26. Extended Metaphor

An extended metaphor is a metaphor that is extended. Just like I’m about to extend this definition: a metaphor developed in high detail and spread over a large passage of writing, from several lines, to a paragraph, to an entire work. (Done! Whew.)

Example of Extended Metaphor

In 2003, Will Ferrell told graduating Harvard-ians about his alma mater, the “University of Life” where he studied in the “School of Hard Knocks” the school colors were “black and blue,” he had office hours with the “Dean of Bloody Noses” and had to borrow his class notes from “Professor Knuckle Sandwich.”

27. Exposition

An exposition is a literary device used to introduce background information about the story in a matter-of-fact way.

Example of Exposition

Because of the famous fiction writing rule, “show don’t tell,” many authors use dialogue and other tricks to convey need-to-know information. But some very successful writers continue to use plain old straightforward exposition like:

The hobbit was a very well-to-do hobbit, and his name was Baggins. The Bagginses had lived in the neighbourhood of the Hill for time out of mind, and people considered them very respectable, not only because most of them were rich, but also because they never had any adventures or did anything unexpected.J. R. R. Tolkien, The Hobbit

28. Frame Story

A frame story is exactly what it sounds like: A story that frames another story. In other words, it’s a story that introduces another smaller story inside, or the story outside the story within the story… oh, never mind. Just see the example below.

Example of a Frame Story

The best example of a frame story is The Princess Bride, which author William Goldman claims to have “translated” from an old “Florinese” story his father told him.

The movie version also uses a frame story: A grandfather reads his grandson a bedtime story (The Princess Bride, of course!).

29. Humor

If I have to explain what humor is to you, I’m afraid you might need something a bit stronger than 57 literary devices to… Oh, what’s that? (My editor says I still have to give you a definition. Contractual obligations, and all that.)

Fine, fine. Here it is: humor is a literary tool that amuses readers and makes them laugh. (There, happy?)

Example of Humor

I mean, technically this whole entire article is just one big ball of fun, but… what’s that? Okay, alright. Official examples, here we go:

“It’s just a flesh wound!” — The Black Knight, after getting both arms chopped off in Monty Python and the Holy Grail

“‘Greater good?’ I am your wife! I’m the greatest good you’re ever gonna get!” — Frozone’s wife’s in response to Frozone’s desire to bail on dinner to save the world in The Incredibles

“A common mistake that people make when trying to design something completely foolproof is to underestimate the ingenuity of complete fools.” — Douglas Adams, Mostly Harmless

30. Hypophora

No, it’s not a fancy name for a Greek hippo. Rather, a hypophora is a literary device where a writer asks a question and then immediately answers it.

Example of Hypophora

Here’s a philosophical example from the timeless children’s novel Charlotte’s Web:

“After all, what’s a life, anyway? We’re born, we live a little while, we die.”

31. Imagery

Imagery is descriptive or figurative language used to evoke near-physical sensations in a reader’s mind. Well-written imagery helps readers almost see, hear, taste, touch, and feel what is going on in the story.

Example of Imagery

Here’s an excerpt from T.S. Eliot’s Preludes, which uses multiple senses:

The winter evening settles down

With smell of steaks in passageways.

Six o’clock.

The burnt-out ends of smoky days.

And now a gusty shower wraps

The grimy scraps

Of withered leaves about your feet.

32. Irony

Irony is one of the trickiest literary devices to define, best grasped through absorbing examples. But a workable definition goes something like this:

Irony is using a word or phrase that usually signifies the opposite of what the speaker intends to say, for comedic or emphatic purposes. Irony can also be an event that works out contrary to the expected, and can often be funny.

So enough with dry definitions, let’s see if the examples can explain better:

Example of Irony

There are three kinds of irony, one of which (dramatic irony) we discussed earlier:

Dramatic irony: In Romeo and Juliet, the audience knows that Juliet isn’t dead, but asleep. Romeo, who doesn’t know, kills himself.

Situational irony: In the animated film Ratatouille, it’s ironic that a rat (which most people don’t like to see in kitchens) ends up being the master chef in a kitchen.

Verbal irony: When Beauty and the Beast’s Belle is trying to get away from an odious suitor’s proposal, she says, “I just don’t deserve you!”

33. Isocolon

Isocolon refers to a piece of writing that uses a series of clauses, phrases, or sentences that are grammatically equal in length, creating a parallel structure that gives it a sort of pleasant rhythm.

Examples of Isocolon

“Veni, vidi, vici (I came, I saw, I conquered).” — Julius Caesar

“You’ve got a lot to live. Pepsi’s got a lot to give.” — Pepsi, circa 1969

“You win some, you lose some.” — Unknown

34. Juxtaposition

Juxtaposition is a literary device writers use to place two highly contrasting things together to emphasize the difference.

Example of Juxtaposition

In Pixar’s Up, Carl Fredricksen is an old, curmudgeonly widower, while his unwanted sidekick Russell is a young, naively energetic schoolboy. That’s what makes the movie so much fun: the contrast (read: juxtaposition) between old, jaded Carl and young, innocent Russell.

35. Litotes

Litotes, from a Greek word meaning “simple,” refers to an affirmation where you say something by negating the contrary.

Example of Litotes

In A Modest Proposal, Jonathan Swift prefaces his proposal to cure poverty by eating poor people’s children with a litotes:

“I shall now therefore humbly propose my own thoughts, which I hope will not be liable to the least objection.

Having been assured by a very knowing American…that a young healthy child well nursed is, at a year old, a most delicious nourishing and wholesome food…I make no doubt that it will equally serve in a fricassee, or a ragoust.”

36. Malapropism

A malapropism is when a character (unintentionally and hilariously) mistakes a word in place of a similar-sounding word. The concept comes from a character (Mrs. Malaprop) who liked to use big words incorrectly in a comedic play by English playwright Richard Sheridan.

Example of a Malapropism

The beloved children’s series Amelia Bedelia describes a maid who takes her bosses’ instructions a bit too literally. For example: sketching her bosses’ drapes when asked to “draw the drapes.”

37. Metaphor

Ah, the metaphor! A favorite tool of writers everywhere. The metaphor is a literary device where something is compared to a dissimilar thing without using a comparison word such as “like” or “as.”

Example of a Metaphor

In Pixar’s Inside Out, the emotions Joy, Fear, Anger, Disgust, and Sadness live and work in Headquarters, an obvious metaphor comparing the brain to a technological control center.

38. Metonymy

Metonymy is the practice of using part of a thing to represent something related to it. In other words, it’s the use of one word as a stand in for another, bigger concept.

Example of Metonymy

Mark Twain uses metonymy in The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn:

“He said he reckoned a body could reform the ole man with a shotgun.”

Here, a “body” refers not to a corpse, but to a person. A corpse, after all, would probably have a hard time wielding a shotgun.

39. Mood

Mood is the feeling an audience gets from consuming a piece of writing. The words a writer chooses creates an atmosphere that evokes powerful emotions from the reader.

Example of Mood

Children’s writer Roald Dahl is a master of creating whimsical, funny, child-friendly moods in his books via extraordinary situations (a boy wins a golden ticket to a magical chocolate factory) and a silly invented vocabulary:

“Don’t gobblefunk around with words” — The BFG

40. Motif

A motif is a sound, action, figure, image, or other element or symbol that recurs throughout a literary work to help develop the theme.

Example of Motif

The book/movie Ready Player One is stuffed with pop motifs from the 1980s. The entire plot revolves around a virtual 1980s world, which contrasts with the main character’s bleak real-life.

41. Paradox

A paradox seems to make two mutually contradictory things true at the same time.

Example of Paradox

In the tragic revenge story, Hamlet, the title character says something that sounds paradoxical:

“I must be cruel to be kind.”

Meaning, he must kill his stepfather (cruel) in order to avenge his father’s murder (kind).

42. Personification

Personification: giving humanlike characteristics to nonhuman animals or objects. Don’t confuse it with anthropomorphism, which goes farther, making the nonhuman character act and appear human.

Example of Personification

Pixar is a master at using personification. For example, in their 2006 movie Cars, the main characters are all, well, cars — cars who talk, race, date, do community service, and win trophies.

43. Polysyndeton

Polysyndeton is a literary device that uses conjunctions quickly, one right after the other, often without punctuation, in order to play with the rhythm of the writing.

Example of Polysyndeton

In I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou uses polysyndeton when she writes:

“Let the whitefolks have their money and power and segregation and sarcasm and big houses and schools and lawns like carpets…”

44. Repetition

Repetition is the grandaddy of many other devices on this list, such as anaphora, epistrophe, and polysyndeton above.

In other words, repetition is the reiteration of something (word, phrase, sentence, etc.) that has already been said (for emphasis).

Example of Repetition

Repetition is frequently used in song lyrics, such as the iconic Beatles song, Let It Be:

“When I find myself in times of trouble

Mother Mary comes to me

Speaking words of wisdom, let it be

Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be

There will be an answer, let it be…”

45. Satire

Satire uses humor, ridicule, irony, and exaggeration to expose and criticize something ridiculous, stupid, or bad. Satire can be light and funny, or dark and judgmental.

There are three types of satire: Juvenalian (viciously attacking a single target), Menippean (equally harsh, but more general), and Horatian (softer, more humorous).

Example of Satire

The funny-offensive show South Park is a modern-day example of biting satire, riffing on all kinds of sensitive topics in a politically incorrect fashion, from politics to religion to Hollywood.

46. Simile

A simile is like a metaphor, except that it compares dissimilar objects using the words “like” or “as” (whereas metaphors compare directly, without any helping words).

A choice simile can be funny, memorable, surprising, or all three!

Example of Simile

Sometimes the most memorable similes are the strangest ones, like this collection of similes from Song of Solomon in the Bible:

“Your hair is like a flock of goats descending from Mount Gilead. Your teeth are a flock of sheep just shorn…your lips are like a scarlet ribbon…”

47. Soliloquy

A soliloquy is a speech given by a character in the absence of hearers. Soliloquies are particularly popular in plays, which don’t usually have the luxury of omniscient narration to reveal characters’ inner thoughts.

Example of Soliloquy

Who can talk about soliloquies without mentioning the Bard’s epic romantic tragedy, Romeo and Juliet?

“Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo!” says Juliet, speaking (or so she thinks) to herself.

48. Suspense

Alfred Hitchcock. Lee Child. Steven King. All are storytellers who create suspense, a feeling of heightened anxiety, uncertainty, and excitement.

Example of Suspense

The famous (or should I say infamous?) shower scene in Hitchcock’s Psycho kept watchers curling their toes for 45 seconds while the innocent-and-soon-to-be-dead Marion takes a shower with a killer lurking in the background.

49. Symbolism

Symbolism. A favorite device of literature teachers everywhere. Symbolism is, of course, when writers use symbols (images, objects, etc.) to represent bigger, deeper ideas, qualities, and so on.

Example of Symbolism

Harry Potter’s lightning scar, the Ring of Doom from the eponymous Lord of the Rings, the mockingjay from Hunger Games… there are examples of symbolism everywhere you look!

50. Synecdoche

A synecdoche is a literary device where a part stands in for the whole, or vice versa. It is not to be confused with metonymy, which is when something represents a related concept. (See the earlier example for metonymy.)

Example of Synecdoche

In Julius Caesar, Mark Antony asks his “Friends, Romans, countrymen” to “lend [him] their ears.” Thankfully, his audience recognized this metonymy and did not interpret Antony’s words literally. Otherwise, we would have a very different play on our hands.

51. Tautology

A tautology is a literary device often used by accident. It involves saying the same thing twice, but phrasing it differently the second time.

A tautology is something a child might say: “I want it because I want it!”

Example of Tautology

In Edgar Allen Poe’s The Raven, “gently rapping” and “faintly tapping” are redundant:

“But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping

And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door”

52. Tmesis

From the Greek word meaning “to cut,” tmesis is a literary device that cuts a word or phrase into two parts by inserting a word in between them.

Example of Tmesis

Here are two silly samples from Pygmalion’s Eliza Doolittle:

“Fan-bloody-tastic!”

“Abso-blooming-lutely”

53. Tone

Tone can be tricky to define. Officially, in writing, tone is the attitude a writer has toward the subject or the audience. It’s the writer’s viewpoint, conveyed through his or her word choice.

Example of Tone

Notice how the choice of emotional words, pacing, and use of other literary elements in this excerpt from Edgar Allen Poe’s The Tell-Tale Heart create a guilty, anxious tone:

“I gasped for breath, and yet the officers heard it not…I arose and argued about trifles, in a high key and with violent gesticulations, but the noise steadily increased. Why WOULD they not be gone? I paced the floor to and fro…O God! What COULD I do? I foamed — I raved — I swore!”

54. Tragicomedy

A tragicomedy is exactly what it sounds like: a story (play or novel) that is both tragic and comedic.

Example of Tragicomedy

Having mastered both tragedy and comedy, is it such a stretch for Shakespeare to have mastered tragicomedy as well? Think: The Merchant of Venice, The Winter’s Tale, and The Tempest, which all blend humor and suffering in a reflection of real life.

55. Verisimilitude

Verisimilitude is a fancy-schmancy word for saying something fake looks real. Example: writing about a fictitious person, thing, or event, that seems almost true, even if it’s far-fetched.

Example of Verisimilitude

Fantasy stories are the best fodder for finding verisimilitude. For example, prolific fantasy writer Brandon Sanderson often creates convoluted magic systems based on things like color, strict rules, constraints, and consequences that almost makes them seem possible.

56. Vignette

A vignette is a short scene or episode — a moment-in-the-life description. Unlike a short story, it doesn’t have a narrative arc or all the elements of a plot.

Example of Vignette

In 2009, Pixar put out a series of video vignettes to promote their movie, Wall-E:

“WALL-E meets a football”

“Wall-E cup shuffle”

“Wall-E meets a magnet”

Here, check them out:

57. Zoomorphism

Zoomorphism is when a writer gives animal-like characteristics to something (human, inanimate object, etc.) that is not an animal. It’s basically the animal form of personification.

Example of Zoomorphism

Want a terrific example of zoomorphism? Just check out Spider-Man, Catwoman, Black Panther, and dozens other comic book superheroes.

What to Do With Your Literary Device Knowledge

Whew! That was a doozy. Congratulations on making it through the entire list.

Now, I know what you’re thinking:

“Do I need to memorize all of these literary terms?”

No, no you don’t.

“Do I even have to know them by name?”

Not necessarily.

But tell you what…

Go through the list again and just let everything soak in. Then next time you’re reading a book, blog post, magazine article, or even a tabloid, try to spot any of the literary devices hiding inside.

I promise, they’re there.

And next time you write, see if you can weave in a common literary device or two, for emphasis, for art, or just for grins and giggles.

As you learn to notice and absorb these devices into your craft — the way a kung-fu master absorbs the basic foundations of his form — you will find yourself becoming a more versatile, expressive, skillful writer.

It’s a bit like having a variety of colors to choose from as a painter. Sure, you can draw a decent portrait with just a stick of charcoal, but imagine what you could do if you had an entire palette.

That’s what literary devices can do for you, if you take the time to pick them up.

So take another peek at this list now and then, and practice sneaking lit devices into your own work.

You’ll be amazed how much clearer, stronger, and addicting your writing will become.

Editors will grin and nod as they read through your work.

Bloggers will fight to snap up your guest posts.

Readers will mob you for your skills.

And you will smile like Mona Lisa, master of the secrets of the universe (or at least this list of literary devices).

The post 57 Literary Devices That’ll Elevate Your Writing (+ Examples) appeared first on Smart Blogger.

from SEO and SM Tips https://smartblogger.com/literary-devices/

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iknowverywellbutstill · 7 years

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ANIMATION 1

It seems a the nature of animation defies categorization. The more you try to pin it down, the more it seems like the “everything that’s not live action” doesn’t begin to cover it. In fact it is possible to think about live action as a subcategory of animation. Animations place among the arts, seems to be a big challenge for academia, as animation’s place in it will be subject to more and more scrutiny as we enter a CGI actorless age in cinema, and the difference between a Pixar and a Marvel movie becomes miniscule (see Logan – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yITLqk7GL1I). Furthermore, novel entertainment technologies like VR, combined with better and better software might soon lead us to a future, similar to that of the novel-soon-to-be-a-blockbuster “Ready Player One” where “cartoons” like The Iron Giant, and real-life fictional characters converge in a reality where there is no discernible boundaries between “drawn” “rendered” or “photographed”. It seems with every coming year, the uncanny valley seems easier and easier to cross.

Disney’s strategy of conflating the work of thousands of worker to one face and name does seem like (and most probably is) pure exploitation. However, it seems like nothing more than early attempts at branding. When the consumer goes to the cinema, they need a clear signal that the product they are about to purchase and consume will have the qualities they are looking for. In order for Walt Disney and all the people working for him to continue working the way they want to bring the product they want, they need capital. In order to get that capital, they need butts in seats. In order to have butts in seats they need a simple clear symbol that says “this is a quality product”. The simple truth is giving each individual worker an identity is something the audience at large is not interested in. What the audience at large is interested in, is making their kids happy/content/shut up for an hour and a half. Disney is a symbol of your kid shutting up for an hour and half and being conent. That is what they are selling. To that end, having a unified brand with its own story (the great creator involved in every single aspect of the process works). The name Walt Disney isn’t conflating the thousands of humans working for the corporation. It also conflates Disney the man. Nobody knows or cares who Walt Disney the person is. People care what Disney The Brand is. The fact that it’s personified by a man is secondary. Walt Disney the man is merely a mascot.

And it is because of Disney The Studio that all of the individuals in it are able to work as animators/colorists etc as opposed to accountants/salesman/clerks. It seems virtually impossible to give everybody a space under the spotlight, because listing 10 000 names who worked on “Bambi” on the poster means nothing to its audience. Whether they called themselves “Disney” or “Animation Supreme” or whatever is of little importance. The point is to bring the work of the collective to a singular identity that communicates “We are good at this!” This is not to say Disney is a great corporation, but it seems to me that there was an intentional maliciousness implied in this branding strategies.

All of the elements of traditional animation seem to also be guided by market principles to some extent. People want to go see something “safe” - something they know, they like to know what to expext.

The categorization of animation as Traditional/Developmental/Experimental seems to be operational to some extent. What struck me as I was reading the text was a memory from my first encounter with Disney – the epitome of the “traditional” part of animation. At first glance it does seem like configuration is an integral part of it, and the characters – Mickey, Donald etc. seem to resemble their real world animal counterparts. However, the memory that struck me as I was reading this, was as a little kid in Bulgaria, watching these toons, I couldn’t come to the conclusion that Donald was a Duck and Mickey was a Mouse. To me they fell under the categorization “toons’ and were undefined further, until some adult filled me in. It’s worth noting that might have been a problem in the early days, and the abstraction of these characters is forgotten today, because they have become so ingrained in the public consciousness. But the abstraction is there and proof lies in the names of these characters. Most of the characters’ names include an explicit indication of the animal they represent Mickey’s second name isn’t Jones. It’s Mouse. Donald isn’t Peterson. His name is Duck. If these characters nature was so obivious, why has their creator decided to explicitly name them. The answer is abstraction is always there. But the most successful abstraction becomes so ubiquitous, we tend to forget what it is. I have never seen a mouse with huge round black ears, and a white face, and yet here is Mickey. It is worth noting here than in Bulgaria, the second name Mouse isn’t translated to the Bulgarian word for mouse - “mish-kah” but is simply transcribed as “maus”. So without the name, 4-year old me was utterly unable to see this configuration, before it was specifically pointed out”. Another thing is the noses of human characters in some Mickey Mouse cartoon have a black ball on top of them much like that of Goofy, Pluto and other dogs. However the rest of their feature remain human. So these strange creatures, that are neither dog nor human. So where is the configuration there?

“The Adventures of Prince Achmed” was an utterly amazing example of characterization minimalism. The silhouettes of all the characters do so much with so little, it strikes one as a wonder, that this type of animation hasn’t found a mainstream outlet. For example, the evilness of the Pari Banu is simply characterized by the silhouettes of his bony fingers ending in long nails. The life and expressivity in the eyes of the characters is so enormous, it is hard to believe they are represented by just a small triangle cutout.

George Stuart Blackton’s “The Enchanted Drawing” reminded me of contemporary artist “BLU” whose works takes on similar form (each consecutive drawing, applied directly over the previous one) with the only difference being BLU paints over real world objects (mostly walls) – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uuGaqLT-gO4&t=113s.

The DOT experiemtal cartoon for some reason reminded me of this amazing love letter to animation, called “Love and Theft” - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rEUxlwb2uFI

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jewelridersarchive · 7 years

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Greg Autore & The Toy Design of Jewel Riders - Part Two

We’ve got a really special interview to share with all of you today! You may remember back in December we had the opportunity to feature several of the toy designs for the never-produced third wave of toys (http://www.jewelridersarchive.com/posts/greg-autore-and-the-toy-design-of-jewel-riders/). We reached out to Greg Autore, the Art Director behind Princess Gwenevere and the Jewel Riders, with a few more questions after featuring the designs, and are so, so excited to share his responses with you. Please enjoy!

The Jewel Riders Archive: First off, can you tell us about your history as a toy designer?

Greg Autore: I started in 1984 as an intern with Mattel and am still designing toys and children’s products. Toys I have worked on (a short list): All of Sabrina the Teenage witch, All Disney fashion dolls from 1989 to 1994 (that is a bigger story to tell sometime), first year of Disney Musical Princesses (I used those bodies and heads for the first Gwen dolls), Star Wars, Popples, Hooks, Peppermint Rose, GI Joe, Trolls…and tons more. In those cases I had a major impact on all those lines. But there are many other smaller things, for instance, I created the very first Barbie’s little sister doll Stacie. I saw a gap in the play pattern since there was no child doll close to the age of the children buying Barbie. (Skipper was a young teen and the babies from Heart Family were toddlers.) So, when I was put on a short term team of cross functional designers to come up with new concepts, Stacie is one thing I did. I used the body from Lady Lovely Locks and took the head from Skipper and chemically shrunk the head to fit. After it was accepted, one of the Barbie designers cleaned it up. She was originally designed to be wearing her big sister Barbie’s pink letter jacket. It still has the basic look from what I designed.

JRA: Wow, that’s an incredible background in toy design. But how did you get involved with Jewel Riders?

GA: Part of the Kenner process is to always look for new properties or inventions. When they arrive, Design and Marketing review them and some are picked to go to the next step to make test models and get early consumer feedback. I was given several scripts and loved “Enchanted Camelot” when I first read it. So, I pushed for getting it into the tests and was assigned to adapt it into a viable toy line. I was told that the production company was willing to work with us (Kenner) to make it better. It was not until after the test results came back favorable and we decided to push forward that I met Robert Mandell and really dug into the project.

Incidentally, “Princess Tenko” was in the same round of testing, and I did make the models for that also, but it did not score as high. Later, Mattel picked up that line but it did not perform well.

Other reasons why I was given the line was probably due to my work with Disney dolls at Mattel. At that time, Disney NEVER cross branded their properties. I was given the assignment to turn Cinderella into a fashion doll. After I had been working on it a little while it occurred to me it could work well for 2 to 3 years but it would be even better if we could rotate the characters through a line in the same way Disney was re-releasing its movies to video – every 7 years. So, with the backing of the Design VP, I pitched the concept to Disney with glorious models. They were very apprehensive at first when I showed them the first two (Cinderella and Snow White) but by the time I showed them all 10 female properties together – they were hooked. The next year after Mattel’s successful launch of Cinderella and Snow White, Disney launched a new branding program “Disney Princesses.” My fingerprints are still on Disney Princesses every time you see Sleeping Beauty wearing pink. I presented a doll to them with a dress that transformed from pink to blue so the kids could replay that scene from the film. They liked it but wanted it blue in the package. Having all the models in front of me I showed them how many Disney female characters they had that were blond with blue dresses and won them over. Now you almost never see Princess Aurora depicted in blue.

There were many unproduced models for the original Disney Classics (purple box) dolls. There are many very cool ones. A centaurette from Fantasia, all the other Peter Pan characters, transforming soft catapillar/butterfly, the original wax model of the white rabbit that I sculpted.

JRA: Very awesome! You also mentioned the Disney Musical Princesses and their connection to PGJR, we were wondering if you could expand on that a little?

GA: The bodies for the musical princesses were originally sculpted and tooled for the “Wonder Woman and the Star Riders.” But it died at toy fair and never shipped. Most of [the Wonder Woman and the Star Riders] doll samples were destroyed because I made the Musical Princesses out of them.

Gwen is the same size as musical princesses but different tools (Editor’s note: Tools are steel molds created from prototypes that are used to manufacture the toy in the factory) since they were made by Mattel’s biggest competitor. If you look carefully, all the Mattel poses are straight and rigid (like a super heroine) but Gwen bodies all have one cocked knee and bent arms for a more natural stance.

JRA: Fun! This looks like it was made from the pre-existing Jasmine Musical Princess Doll. Did Jasmine have that style shoes? Or are those a Jewel Riders exclusive design?

GA: Jasmine would not have worn those shoes. Most likely, I sculpted those onto the existing legs with Sculpy, the heated them with a fine point heat gun. That was one of my typical techniques.

JRA: Were there any other pre-existing toys that fed into Jewel Riders toy design?

GA: The Gwen horses were Fashion Star Fillies with the rump jewels added to the tooling.

JRA: Can you describe your creative process?

The other thing I had going for me [in addition to having worked on Disney dolls] was my imagination. When I mentioned to my supervisor one day about, “Can’t you see there must be a Fair that Gwenevere is going to right over that hill?” I thought everyone could do that. My supervisor informed me, “Uh… No… that is not how MOST people think.”

This came in very handy for Gwenevere. When the second set of episodes was turned on, the only two directions to start with were – 1) Search for wild magic jewels since the first set was all found 2) Use Morgana as the ultimate villainess instead of Lady Kale. One thing I wanted to do was to create a visible use of jewel power other than just shining. I wanted something more like what certain superheroes can do with their power rings and create shapes to solve the issue. This lead directly to suggesting the trio has an episode underwater to find a wild water jewel and use that opportunity to have them use jewel power mermaid fins. Fortunately, Director Robert Mandell was open to many of my suggestions. That second season had many episodes that grew from my concepts and a very rough storyline suggestion.

JRA: We love that “Jewel of the Sea” sprung from one of your concepts. It has long been a fan favorite episode judging by the social media reactions! Next, we’d love to know what your favorite product that you designed for Jewel Riders is?

My favorite Princess Gwenevere toy was probably the Zebracorn. Gwen and Fallon already had special animals. I know Tamara had her small animal friends but she was always limited to having to ride in the carriage. I wanted her to have a special animal friend like Sunstar – but how do you compete with a unicorn and a flying horse. I wanted the new friend to be totally unique and stunning in its own way. Somehow the idea of a Zebra striped unicorn came to me and we made a rough model. The model was especially cool. One of my goals was to try to get as many of the really fun toy ideas into the show. Since Robert Mandell was still working through the rest of the scripts, I suggested the idea. He was unsure but when I suggested the story line to go with it, then he saw the magic and emotion of it and had a script written based on my basic plot outline. There were many other features I was able to convince Robert and the writers to add in, but that character and episode were still my favorite. The whole concept that “some things are more special than you can possibly imagine if you take time to care” was dear to my heart and I hoped others would get it also.

JRA: That’s really touching, and we definitely think your message got across in the fan-favorite episode “Shadowsong.” So we’ve talked about your favorite product – now we’re curious which provided the greatest challenge?

GA: I noticed that Fallon was very popular also. This is gratifying as we put much work into her so she would not be just a tag along character with a different skin tone. During the time I was at Mattel since they did so many dolls that they were very restrictive on flesh tones. They had only 3 – pink flesh, suntan and black. The black skin tone Mattel used, I thought, was very dull, chalky and lifeless. Kenner did not have set skin tones so I worked very hard to find just the right skin tone for her. I did not want her to look specifically African American since we were in a fantasy setting. I also wanted her to appeal to more people. So the skin tone I picked could have made her Caribbean, North African or many other darker skin tones. But the color was alive and vibrant. Robert bought into the idea and gave her an accent that was hard to place – more like Creole. She was one of my favorites to design for since she did not have to look pink and pretty. She was more mysterious and really was the smartest of the three. Tamara was the most empathetic. Gwen was the leader – trying to find her way.

My hard work to get Fallon just right paid off for me personally when I found the Deluxe Fallon doll on a list of “The 10 Best Black Dolls Every Made.” Ironically, a second one on that list was the mother/Queen from Prince of Egypt which I also worked very hard to get right. Both took the time and energy to fight to get them unique and just right.

JRA: To your knowledge, was there any development done for a third season of Jewel Riders beyond your toy design work?

GA: There was never a plan to do more episodes… yet. If anything was done on it, I never saw or heard of it. Originally, they were just going to do the first 13. Then Bohbot wanted European distribution which required 26. So they made the next 13. They would have made more but were waiting to see how it succeeded.

JRA: Do you know why Gwenevere was renamed Starla outside of North America?

GA: Two reasons for the question: 1) international names often have to have minor spelling changes or conjunction changes so a simple less specific name translates better (too many ways to translate “princess”). 2) Guenevere was probably being used legally in a country they wanted to release it in.

Tamara was supposed to be Melody but that name was trademarked in the US

JRA: We were wondering if you could speak to rumors that any possible playsets were in development?

GA: 1) The castle playset shown to consumers in the original testing. Very cool model and design (even if I hand made most of it). It was more like a castle keep but expanded up and out to make a good backdrop for play. But the castle eventually designed for the show did not match it all. I know for a fact that it was destroyed along with many things just before I left. (People starting digging through the Kenner garbage cans looking for Star Wars discarded samples so a grinder was put in place to destroy all trash).

2) Carriage playset – It was okay. A real plastic model was never made of it. 90% sure it was destroyed.

3) Enchanted Forest playset – very basic clamshell sculpted magical trees that open up with jewels to add that would work like a combination of light-pipes (in basic Gwen figures) and light brite. Nothing exists from it that I know of. It was only a foam core model.

4) Pavilion Playset – the only one management ever took seriously. It was approved to move forward but the line was dropped soon after that decision (since the show could never be found and kept moving its time slot and not notifying TV and other publications). Only one model ever existed.

JRA: Very cool! We would have loved any one of those to be produced.

Next, we were wondering about the color scheme for the show. Tamara as a pink-haired magical girl was an inspired choice, as it has been one of the things people remember most vividly from the show. Were you involved in this aspect at all?

GA: Tamara – I would have to double check but she either started with red hair and I made it pink or it was pink to start. The teal color was the best color to balance her hair. Pink was a cuter way to depict a red-head. It also gave me, two pink characters – one with pink hair and one with pink clothing -Win/Win!

Gwen – As the main character, she needed to be in pink. Girls OVERWHELMINGLY prefer pink. But I chose her skin tones and hair color to be as golden as I could as if she was infused with the sunstone’s power. (Side note: when we were trying to determine the colors for Popples, they pulled in about 10 designers and we used the same sketch, then created as many color variations/styles as we could. Then 100 were shown to consumers. The top 3 chosen were all different shades of pink.)

Purple/lavender is the second best selling color so I used it for Fallon’s primary accent. It also led to her mysterious quality.

When I met with the Aladdin TV show team to do some product, they mentioned that very young kids would have a hard time following a character if they changed outfits. For instance, when Jasmine was put in her brown townsperson clothes, the younger viewers did not get it was her. So when I had the chance to do Jewel Riders, I specifically created a palette for each character and stayed with it religiously so the hair color and costume color would always make it easier for younger viewers to follow. It was absolutely intentional.

JRA: Greg, we absolutely can’t thank you for taking the time to speak with us about all your amazing memories of Jewel Riders. We really can’t thank you enough for your generosity in sharing so many amazing insights with the fan community. Any special message you’d like to share?

GA: I just went through the work you and Chris have been putting into the Jewel Riders Archive site. It is nicely done. Reading the comments of what it meant to others is touching. For what it is worth, the day I was told the line was officially dropped and I no longer was allowed to play and build in that world, was a very sad day for me. There was so much more I wanted to do with those characters.

JRA: Thank you Greg. That means a lot to us too! Even though we aren’t the creators of the series, we definitely feel invested in the characters, the story, and the integrity of the show. What started out as just a love for a cartoon turned into a dedicated… passionate to say the least, commitment that we get a great joy from.

Read the complete blog at The Jewel Riders Archive! http://www.jewelridersarchive.com/posts/greg-autore-and-the-toy-design-of-jewel-riders-part-two/

#jewel riders #kenner #disney #barbie #doll #dolls #mattel #toys #toy #interview

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