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celticcrossanon · 3 years

Note

I’m so sorry for the rant. I just needed to clear my head and got compelled to do it in your inbox. 🙇🏾‍♀️

Not a question just some thoughts. Sorry I’m spamming you so much. I just read your latest reading about the wanna be“tour” and all I can do is SMH. I think to some extent we saw this coming but they are dialing it up and expanding. Conscious humans would’ve called it quits by now. The Remembrance Day pap walk, Going to elementary schools, “donations”, writing letters like they are world leaders, etc. On one hand I can’t see this becoming much of a “thing”. I don’t think MM and Jarry will go on doing this for long unless they can get some Hollywood to pay attention and acknowledge them. I think another reason with the more public European Royals work so well in their media is because their countries are relatively small, like California and Texas are on the large side in comparison, am I right? So much can happen on one side of the country that I only hear of thanks to friends back in California. I can’t see these two visiting any farm in Montana as “royals” if ever. They got a Clinton and Perhaps more big names and “engagement” is to come (oh god 🤦🏾‍♀️) I’m sure they and the sugars are just loving it but it all looks, sounds and feels so incrediblly STUPID & ABSOLUTELY VAPID AND INSULTING. etc etc. I cannot stand entitled people and the fact that these two cut off, trashed, and demand from their own families for a fleeting moment in the spotlight is unfathomable. That’s a testimony to how strong narcissistic delusions can be. It must be the best high I could ever ask for. 🖤Im new to “Royal Watching” if you can call what I do ‘that’, so I don’t really care about all the other indiscretions. I don’t trust the media and I think it’s just the BRF turn in the hot sun to catch hell. See Andrew, see the Clintons and all the others. Whatever drama is going on with Charles, see the rest of big business. I’m a narcissistic abuse survivor and I still study on the disorder. Now here I am watching these two who make my skin craw, this train needs to SPEED UP . I think I’m just looking for a bit of JUSTICE in the world right now. Between this administration, COVID, my job and all my other drama (I’m sure we all have some, if not BLESS YOU and pass it on 🥺) I’m flabbergasted and a little sick in my stomach at watching yet another set of people be able to walk through life seemingly so unbothered. It’s like the world is closing in and I’m suffocating. 🖤Like, your telling me that just because he was born a Prince and she married him and found a way to have children they get to get away with all of this?. The entitlement, the lies, the forced Wokery, using heavy and important subjects like mental health and racism for a PR boost all just to get a⭐️ on the Hollywood walk of Fame? For a couple of royals they sure know how to dump cold water on ya, they are the epitome of LIFE ISNT FAIR. And I’m sure that all depends on perspective, for example; their sugars who must be going diabetic RN. THEY think they have suffered as well. Look at the Cambridge’s who have not put a foot out of place yet have to deal with these tantrums from all over their family. All families have drama and I can see how the Harkles and the rest could be a payback of the Firm and family as a whole. The Queen covered so much and never really saw that Henry and Andrew and god knows who else were set straight. Look what having so much privilege can do. But is there a limit, anywhere?🖤

🖤Anyways, another thought I had was, this could be the end for any thought of reunion. This Narcissist has worked her magic and this clueless tone deaf fool has really gone and done it. I was driving and I thought of Prince William and the entire remaining Windsors & Mountbatten Windsor’s and the whole Aristocracy cutting the Harkles off entirely because the BRF called a wrap (or had to) and the UK became a Republic after Her Majesty. MM get the privlage in her narcissistic head that she’s the last ever to become a Duchess, Cathrine wouldn’t become the Princess of Wales and it all came down in part because of her and Henry’s actions. Yes Andrew and whoever else aren’t helping but these two made it exceptionally difficult. I think they would take pride in that especially publicly but only when they are praised for it. I think the Cambridge’s would have an easier time with moving on with their family, free to live as they please with no pressure to serve the public. Cathrine can be “lazy”, sleep in, & raise her kids and Wills is free to🖕 the paps who would surely still follow them. A La “where are they now”. The two that would have it the worse are the Harkles as they last bit of what they had to separate them from the rest of Hollywood is gone, no more Royal sheen but they don’t have much now. It would be stupid to use the titles after an abolished monarchy but they’d do it and expose themselves further.🖤 If you made it this far, one last thing. I got cut off while driving. That’s not unusual in this Miami traffic and usually i ignore it but with my mental state I couldn’t help but to compare. it was a packed road and I just really wanted to know where the heck the fire was. Why did this person need to rush so much on a busy road that no one else mattered even though we all have somewhere to go? That’s how I feel about the Harkles. What’s the point, where are they going? They went to New England for Christ sake to play faux royalty, in more trashy outfits might I add. 🤦🏾‍♀️

I guess I do have a question, DOES THE WORLD REALLY BELONG TO THOSE WHO JUST Get UP AND TAKE IT?

Thanks for humoring me and providing this space. ✌🏾

Note: My apologies for this very long post, everyone. I can't put a page break in and the writer needs to let it all out. I am sure a lot of you will be feeling somewhat similar to them.

Reply under the cut, so this is not any longer

Hi april14vc,

You are welcome to rant here.

It sounds like you have a lot going on at the moment and it is all becoming a bit much to handle, as there is no relief anywhere. Is there something fun and relaxing that you can do for you sometime today, just to have a break from it all? I feel like you need to tune out for a bit and do something that is just for you.

I am so sorry that you suffered from narcissistic abuse, and so glad that you survived this. I think the Harkle shenanigans must hurt you in a more personal way than those of us who have never suffered under a narcissist. It is very hard to watch the Harkles seemingly get away with all their entitled abuse without any form of justice coming for them.

I think the Harkles are suffering. They usually are unable to get any sort of attention from the media unless they pay for it, and even then they don't trend - it is a 'blink and you miss it' situation. Look at what happened with Meghan's 40 for 40 program - it was dead in the water before the day was over, and she spent a fortune on PR for that. Compare that to the natural (not paid for) hype that surrounds anything that the BRF does, especially the Cambridges or HMTQ. That hype and attention is what Meghan wants, and she is not getting it.

What the Harkles are getting, and what they hate, is mockery. Look at the response to their Times 100 cover. Look at the comments on this pseudo-royal tour. They are a walking joke, and no narcissist would like that. They tried to cull all negative press while they were members of the BRF, were unsuccessful in stemming all of it, and now have no clout at all to stop any negative media attention. The Harkles may live in a delusion of success, but to the vast majority of people they are no more than very risible z-list celebrities.

The Harkles also have serious money troubles. They may be ignoring them, but those debts will have to be paid, one way or another.

What we are seeing now is the slow slide of the Harkles into obscurity, and their desperate attempts to reverse the process, which never work. They are no more popular and wanted now than they were at the time of Megxit, and in fact their popularity has declined since those days. They may look like they are winning, but it is all an illusion, caused by the amounts of money they are prepared to pay to give the illusion of wealth and star-quality celebrity. The paid for events happen, and then nothing. The paid for PR happens, and then nothing. Their slide downwards continues, and nothing that they do is reversing it.

Yes, at the moment they are on a high and beaming put of every report on their activities. Wait a week and then see where they are. This is like the Oprah interview all over again.

My next reading is going to be on the consequences of this pseudo-royal tour for the Harkles, so maybe there will be some justice for you there.

Edited to add: As for taking down the monarchy, I can't see that happening. For starters, the British government would have to put the matter to the people for a vote, and even if they are insane enough to do that, I can't see the British public voting to remove a beloved Queen because of the antics of two people who are despised that that country. The logistics of replacing the monarchy are also staggering - you have to rework the entire government of not just Great Britain, but of all the commonwealth realms who have HMTQ as Head of State, and that is not an easy task or a light undertaking. In addition, those Commonwealth Realms can keep HM as their head of state even if she is ejected by the British people (which would never happen, but I am stretching the bounds of probability here). After HMTQ comes Charles, who will have a short reign simply because of his age and health, and then William will be king, and he is also loved by the British public. I just can not see all that thrown away for the Harkles, who are rightly hated by the British public.

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heloisedaphnebrightmore · 4 years

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Losing you [Regulus Black x Reader] - Heloise’s Christmas Calendar - Challenge

December 10 – Losing you [Regulus Black x Reader]

Title: Losing you Pairing: Regulus Black x Reader and Sirius Black Word count: 2.7k Published: 10 December, 2020 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Warnings: abuse, abandonment issues, family problems Notes: I have been thinking a lot about Sirius and Regulus’ relationship and I decided to write it down, because I couldn’t get it out of my head. This is also a part of Heloise’s Christmas Calendar where I post something each day from 1 - 25 December. Summary: You have been watching your boyfriend, Regulus drifting away from his brother, Sirius. When the opportunity arises, you decided to get involved and lend a helping hand to the brothers. Inspiration: [x] [x] [x] By @alessiajontrunfio‘s artwork Challenge: This is my entry to @blisfvll‘s writing challenge [x] [x], prompt is in bold and also @teheharrypotter‘s two weeks of angst challenge [x] [x].

“Please leave me alone.”

10/12 - Slowly drifting away from each other

Heloise’s Christmas Calendar Masterlist

Harry Potter Characters Masterlist | Masterlists

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You were seated on a couch in the Slytherin common room, holding your boyfriend’s hand as you watched the flames reaching higher in the fireplace. You laid your cheek against his chest, listening to his regular heartbeat, making you feel relaxed as his arm wrapped around your waist. Regulus has been rather quite recently, his usually warm and welcoming gaze now empty and broken. You knew it was all because of his brother, Sirius, even though he didn’t talk much about him.

You knew that there was a time when he looked up to his brother, when he worshiped him, but Hogwarts changed it all, before their family turned them against each other even more. You knew all about it, but Regulus talked to you as if he was giving you facts, he never showed emotions when the subject came up. After Sirius left Grimmauld Place, the warm flames in Regulus’ eyes faded, before they completely disappeared.

Sirius was well known for his flirty behaviour, his big mouth and obnoxious personality. His fame preceded him. But you knew that the reason Regulus never talked about his brother after he left their home, had nothing to do with how popular he was, nor was it about envy or jealousy.

One night you got hold of him when Slytherin won a quidditch match against Gryffindor as he was drunkenly stumbling across the common room, murmuring under his breath.

“Reg, what are you doing?” You asked the boy as you placed an arm under his armpit and held him up, helping him walk to his dormitory.

“We won.” He chuckled, which was quickly stopped by a hiccup. You knew him for so long by then, you knew that chuckle was a phony act of his, but you didn’t want to push for the subject.

“Yes, indeed. We won against Gryffindor.” You replied with a smile carefully painted across your face. You opened the door to his dorm and helped him to his bed.

“He deserved it, you know? He and his friends and his house, always acting so happy, not even caring about others who are suffering around them. He deserved to be defeated.” He hissed, his tone growing angrier after each word leaving his lips.

You frowned at the boy, before you decided to speak up. “Reg, is it about Sirius?” You asked, hoping he would open up to you in his drunken state. You sat down beside him, on the edge of the bed, getting hold of his hand, interlocking your fingers with his. He nodded, but he didn’t speak up just yet. His eyes were fixed on the wall across the room as silence fell upon you.

Regulus broke the quiet atmosphere as a scoff left his lungs. “You know, I hate him.” He spit in an angered tone. “He thinks he can do whatever he wants, he can just walk out the door and leave everything behind. He doesn’t think of the consequences, he doesn’t think of others. He is just plain selfish.” He scoffed in anger, a hiccup cutting him off once again.

“Maybe you should sleep, love. You will have a terrible headache in the morning.” You spoke, trying to avert his thoughts. You didn’t like to see the pain in his eyes, the tension in his body, his fingers holding yours stronger, almost squeezing them.

“You know, back in the day-“ he started with a shaky voice. “I got in trouble. I set the curtain on fire in our living room. I thought mother would go mental, that she would punish me. I was shaking out of fear, I was crying. I honestly was terrified.” He stopped for a second, trying to collect his thoughts. “When mother saw what happened, I thought that was it.” He chuckled painfully. “Well guess what, that idiot brother of mine took the blame. I watched as mother used the cruciatus curse on him and I didn’t stop her.” You wrapped your arms around his shaking form as tears slowly left his grey eyes.

“It wasn’t your fault.” You whispered into his neck, hinting a small peck on his soft skin. “Sirius took the blame on purpose. He didn’t want to see you suffer.” You tried to sooth his pain, but it didn’t seem to work.

“You don’t understand. I watched as she was screaming at him, whilst I hid behind the stairs, like the coward I am. I watched as he shouted in pain and fell on his knees. I watched as his body rolled on the ground, before his voice was gone and he suffered silently, his teeth clenched, tears falling from his eyes. It was all my fault.” He cried out, his voice weak and shaking. You drew random circles on his back trying to sooth the boy.

You helped him up on the bed, taking his shoes off, before you climbed in and pulled him to your chest. You caressed his arm and hinted a small kiss on the top of his head, waiting for him to finally fall asleep, guarding his dreams, chasing his nightmares away.

Since then you haven’t talked about what happened. Sirius did come up in your conversations sometimes, but it was mostly initiated by you and Regulus quickly shot your choice of subject down. He clearly didn’t want to talk about it.

But you couldn’t keep quiet. You saw the hurt that the distance between the brothers caused and you didn’t want to watch the love of your life losing himself any longer.

“You should talk to him, you know?” You asked, but he didn’t reply. It was his usual defence mechanism. Whether he didn’t acknowledge the subject and pretended not to hear you talk or immediately changed it. You didn’t like how he handled it though. “You should know me by now. I will keep nagging you until you talk to me.” You spoke as you leaned away from his chest and folded your arms in front of you, pouting at the boy’s ignorance.

He heaved a deep sigh and averted his gaze from the fireplace, meeting your eyes this time. “I told you I didn’t want to talk about him.” He spoke in a cold tone.

“But I do. You can pretend to not care, but it won’t change the fact that you actually do. He is still your brother.” You spoke, opening your arms as if offering the solution.

“No, he isn’t. He stopped being my brother the moment he stepped out the door.” He hissed, fairly irritated by your choice of subject and the thought of his brother.

“You very well know that’s not how it’s working. You have to talk to each other. I don’t like to see you hurting.” You caressed his cheek with the back of your hand, but he just pulled away.

“I’m perfectly content where I am and I love you, but you should understand the most when I don’t want to talk about something.” He explained in a serious tone, but you were always one to push the boundaries.

“Look, I understand, and I love you, Reg. But that is the exact reason for my nagging. I know you way too well to recognise when you are lying to me. Your brother is important to you and you can try to pretend that he is not, you can keep lying to yourself, but it won’t change the truth.”

He heaved a deep sigh and gently shook you off him as he stood up. He started walking towards the exit of the Slytherin common room, before you got hold of his wrist and stopped him.

“Where are you going?” You asked with a deep frown.

He lifted his arm and pointed at the clock above the fireplace, which showed 7pm. “I’m hungry, so I am heading to the Great Hall. Is that a problem?” He asked coldly. You just rolled your eyes and linked your fingers with his, squeezing them.

“It is, if you don’t ask me to come with you.” You shrugged playfully. “You should know how grumpy I can get when I’m hungry.” You grinned at him, trying to lighten the mood, which earned you a scoff from him, but he couldn’t hide the tiny smile curving in the corner of his lips.

You walked up from the dungeon, heading to the Great Hall, hands linked together. You loved the feel of his warm palm against yours, his long fingers engulfing yours as if providing you safety.

“Hey Reg.” You heard a familiar voice, almost identical to Regulus’, maybe a tad deeper. You didn’t have to think to know who he could be. As you both turned around, Sirius stood behind you with a sympathetic smile. You looked up at Regulus, his jaw tense, his gaze ice cold. A look you have never seen from him before. “How do you do?” Sirius tried again, but this time you couldn’t miss the grimace Regulus wore, nor could Sirius miss the painful look in his brother’s eyes, although he couldn’t interpret it.

“Do not talk to me.” Regulus replied, his tone sharp as a knife, almost warning, one could say. His hand squeezed yours tighter as if it could help him keep his anger at bay.

Sirius walked up to his brother and placed his hand on his shoulder, causing Regulus’ body to tense under his touch. “Regulus, please, let’s talk.” He held onto his brother tighter as if it was the only way to keep him from walking away. You quickly squeezed his hand, reassuring him that you were there for him.

“No! I don’t even care about what you have to say.” He shook his head, his teeth clenched. “You left that hellhole as you called it, now be happy and just please, leave me alone.” He sounded firm, but Sirius knew his little brother. He could feel the desperation in his voice, he just couldn’t understand.

“You’re still my brother and that will never change.” He replied, his eyes following Regulus’ every movement.

It was visible he didn’t expect his brother’s cold behaviour. Although they had their ups and downs, having different views on the Wizarding world, you never heard Regulus talk to anyone with so much hatred. And after all that you knew about them, you were sure it was not meant for the older Black, but more towards the situation they found themselves in.

“You lost all your rights to care about me as a brother when you walked out that door and left me.” He hissed in anger. You tried to whisper to him, calm him down, before he decided to say something else that he could regret.

“I never left you, Reg.” Sirius raised his voice, a panicking tone hidden behind his words. “I still care about you, but I couldn’t stay in that toxic household anymore. I couldn’t handle mother’s curses, I couldn’t handle her beatings, her hatred. It hurt too much.” Sirius’ grey eyes glistened of the unshed tears. You never imagined seeing him so broken after all the rumours you have heard of his obnoxious and selfish behaviour. He didn’t seem like the one you heard rumours about.

“Then go and celebrate and stop pretending like you care.” He scoffed as he tightened his grip around your hand and started pulling you after him.

“Regulus, talk to him. It’s been going on for so long.” You tried to get to him, but he seemed too determined to leave. “Regulus Black!” You raised your voice, stopping the boy in his steps. “Stop running away and face him.” You tried to convince him, but his body just tensed at the thought.

“Reg, please.” Sirius begged him from a few steps away from you, his tone desperate for his brother to hear him out.

Regulus stood beside you, his eyes full of pain, his body tense, his hand squeezing yours involuntarily. You lifted your other hand, caressing his arm, trying to calm him down.

“Why should I? You made it very clear that you don’t care about us. That you don’t care about me.” He spoke through gritted teeth.

“That’s not true, Reg.” He shook his head immediately. “I do care about you. That’s why I have been trying to get in touch with you, but you are pushing me away.” Your eyes widened at his statement. Regulus never told you about his brother’s attempt to mend things. “I was mad at you, for being naive and listening to our mother, but that doesn’t change the fact that you are still my brother.”

“It clearly does. You have just walked out on me.” He hissed in anger.

“And do you realise how guilty I feel about that?” Sirius asked, his voice weakening. “I know that you love our mother and I know we have different views. And as much as I disagree with your thoughts, I don’t want to lose you.” Desperation was clear in his voice, but Reg just shook his head, trying to leave once again. However, you didn’t let him. You pulled his arm back, steading him beside you.

“Reg, talk to him.” You whispered.

“Regulus, I am trying to make things right here. I know you feel betrayed, and I can’t express how guilty I feel about it, but you are my brother and I don’t want to lose you.” Sirius was almost begging Regulus and knowing your boyfriend you knew he wasn’t far from giving in. You watched as he swallowed, his adam’s apple moved up and down firmly.

Regulus took a deep breath, his eyes finally focusing on his older brother. “Why did you leave without a word? I know our relationship wasn’t always the best, but you keep telling me I’m your brother, still you just walked out on me.” For the first time you finally saw Regulus opening up and you couldn’t deny how proud you were.

“It was a hasty decision. I didn’t think it through. I got up and left. I just couldn’t handle it anymore. But I never meant to ruin our relationship any further.” He shook his head as he walked closer again, placing his hand on Regulus’ shoulder. “It was horrible there, and I felt like I was sinking deeper, that I was being suffocated each and every day I spent in that house. I couldn’t handle our mother lashing out on me all the time and I just felt like I had to leave.” He breathed. “I don’t want you to feel sorry for me, nor do I want you to feel like I am asking you to. I really just want to make things right. You are my brother and I don’t plan on losing you.” He spoke full of determination. “Do you think we could try again?” He asked.

Regulus stood beside you, his breathing shaky, his hands sweating in your hold. “I guess it wouldn’t be that bad.” He replied coldly, but both you and Sirius knew it was just an act. Inside he was more than happy to start again with his brother. Sirius patted his brother’s shoulder with a happy grin across his face.

“Why don’t you two go to the kitchen and grab something from there, talk things through maybe?” You asked, both boys looking at you with a surprised expression.

“Now?” Regulus asked.

You tilted your head with a sweet smile as you spoke up. “Right now.” You stood on your tiptoes and hinted a small kiss on his lips, before letting go of his hand.

“But we said we would eat together.” Regulus tried to argue, but you knew it was all about his defence mechanism kicking in.

“Believe me, I think I can eat alone too.” You giggled. “You two have a lot to talk about, love. Now shoo!” You said.

“But-“ he tried to argue, but you cut him off.

“You asked me what I’d like for Christmas, didn’t you?” You asked and the boy nodded diligently. “I want you to go and sort things out between you. Now.” You added the last part in confirmation, which earned a chuckle from Sirius and a playful eye roll from Regulus. You kissed his cheek and left the boys behind, heading towards the Great Hall.

The next time you met Regulus, the welcoming and warm gaze he wore before was back in his eyes, shining brighter than ever. Words of his brother still limited, but showing continuous growth.

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misssquidtracy · 4 years

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Noble Intentions (Part 2).

My slightly belated ongoing contribution to Gordo’s FabFiveFeb week. Apparently, this is now going to be a 3 chapter doohickey of sorts. My boi has made it quite clear that any plans I had about length matter very little here.

All credit for FabFiveFeb goes to the amazing @gumnut-logic 💚

Prompt: You did what?

Warnings: Mild strong language.

Genre: Humour.

Characters: Gordon, Scott, Virgil, John, Alan. Heavy on the Gordon.

-x-

Two months, seventeen hours, and eleven minutes earlier…

“You did what?”

Gordon winced as the mouthful of water Scott had been storing in his cheeks was spat clean across the table.

“What?” the aquanaut challenged, indignation creeping into his voice as he reached across Alan for another spoonful of sweet potato mash, “They were looking for models and I signed us up. It’s for a good cause!”

“A nude calendar?” John quacked, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline, “Gordon, we’re a professional rescue organisation. We have a public image to maintain!”

“Not to mention better things to be doing with our time,” Virgil grumbled, scraping the last of his peas onto his fork, “What if an emergency call were to come through while we were…ahem…mid-pose?”

A scowl infected Gordon’s face as he metaphorically searched for a metaphorical shovel to metaphorically dig himself out of the metaphorical hole he was metaphorically digging, “I didn’t sign us up for all twelve months. Just our birth months.”

Another mouthful of water was ejected across the table, eliciting a gasp of disgust from John when he discovered that he was sat in the splash zone.

“You signed Alan up as well?” Scott all but squealed, “He’s a minor, Gordon!”

“Okay, okay,” the aquanaut sighed, wincing at the volume of his eldest brother’s voice, “I’ll take his place and do two sittings for both February and March. Problem solved.”

Disbelieving stares were exchanged across the table as Gordon polished off his dinner and traipsed to the sink to refill his glass.

“You’re off your onion!” Scott snapped, striding after the aquanaut and lobbing his plate in the dishwasher with more force than was necessary, “Well, we’re not going. You’ll have to go back on whatever promises you’ve made and cancel everything. And don’t think that order excludes you. International Rescue has a professional behaviour framework that we’re duty-bound to follow, and pasting our naked assess across couches and bales of hay doesn’t feature in it anywhere.”

Water was sloshed across the counter as Gordon rinsed his glass out and tried to contain his frustration. Typical Scott, always so hung up on appearances. He hadn’t even bothered to ask what the calendar was in aid of.

“We’ll send over a generous donation instead,” Scott placated, as if somehow reading Gordon’s mind, “Is it someone we’ve worked with before?”

“Children of Colombia,” Gordon replied, “They operate out of Bogotá and channel all their money into educational programmes and residential homes instead of advertising. That’s why I signed us up. I thought our ‘famous’ faces might help them a bit in that department.”

Moved by his younger brother’s kind hearted gesture, John opened his mouth to ask for more details, only to have his questioning tongue silenced by a glare from Scott.

If there was one thing that always made the eldest Tracy’s emotional kayak run aground, it was guilt.

“Well, they’ll have to make do with a fat-ass cheque instead,” Scott muttered, kicking the dishwasher shut and needlessly throwing a tea towel into the sink, “You can hate me all you want, but I wasn’t the one who made the rules. One day of disappointment isn’t worth us losing all of our credibility, plus our rapid response service would be redundant if all five of us were there at the same time. Nope, you’re going to have to tell them no, Gordon. And if I catch wind of you honouring the agreement beyond the aforementioned fat-ass cheque, I’ll suspend you from active duty for a week. Capisce?”

Without giving the aquanaut a chance to reply, Scott retrieved a banana from the fruit bowl and marched off in the direction of the lounge, his expression reminiscent of a pissed off camel.

“You saw that, right?” Gordon demanded, waiting until Scott was a safe distance away before stabbing a finger accusingly in the direction he’d walked off in, “I was minding my business, and he threatened to ground me! This is all because he knows I’d pull the whole thing off way better than he would.”

Both Virgil and John were smart enough to neither confirm nor deny their younger brother’s claim to nude fame. Alan had questions, oh so many questions, but was thankfully prioritising a text on his phone over his desire to seek answers.

“I’m telling you now,” Gordon continued, abandoning his glass and stomping off towards the pool, “If Poseidon appears before me and asks me to make a blood sacrifice, he’s gone. Gone, I say.”

-x-

“Hello?”

“Gabriela!” Gordon tried to keep his tone as upbeat as possible, “How are things?”

“Mr Tracy!” came the delighted response, “What a lovely surprise! I have some excellent news. We officially sold out of tickets for the International Rescue Calendar Class three days ago and, as a result of popular demand, will now be selling the resultant paintings off at a silent auction to raise money for a tutoring programme aimed at local women fleeing domestic abuse. Our forecasts show that we’re set to exceed our original target by almost eight five percent, and it’s all thanks to you!”

Great.

Lovely.

Wonderful.

Magnifique.

“Yeah, about that,” Gordon began, his tone hesitant, “You see the thing is, I now can’t make it. Something’s popped up and I’m kind of needed here. I’m so sorry.”

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the phone, “Okay…well, that’s not ideal. I won’t lie. But I’m sure we’ll be able to make do with four out of five. Which reminds me, do any of your colleagues have any dietary requirements or allergies that my team should be aware of?”

“Sorry, I wasn’t very clear,” Gordon clenched his fist as guilt began to gnaw at his insides, “What I meant to say is that none of us can come anymore. I’m afraid I was impulsive and signed us up before consulting with the rest of my team. I’m so sorry. We will of course compensate you for the losses you’ll incur in the form of a donation, plus an extra twenty five percent on top for the inconvenience caused.”

A silence that somehow managed to hurt Gordon’s ears descended over the line, punctuated by the odd stifled sniff.

“B-But I can certainly send a substitute over in our place,” the aquanaut gabbled, cursing the lack of a link between his brain and mouth, “He’s not an emergency responder per se, but he’s an integral member of the team and the one responsible for designing the Thunderbirds.”

The line crackled to life again as Gordon’s offer refreshed Gabriela’s composure, “Really? Oh, yes please. It’ll be a disappointment to everyone who’s already bought a ticket, but I suppose we haven’t technically misled them so long as there’s at least one representative from International Rescue there.”

“Perfect!” Gordon chirped, setting an immediate course for the hangers, “I’ll keep you posted. In the meantime, don’t cancel anything. See you on Friday!”

Of all the brothers, Gordon liked to think of himself as the most strategic when it came to picking his battles. He’d grown up watching Scott, Virgil and John jockeying for position, and had then had Alan to sharpen his own claws on. All in all, being the fourth born wasn’t as bad as it sounded. He’d been exposed to both subservience and dominance in equal measures, and was acutely aware of how far he could push each of his siblings before they tipped into Bitch Fit Canyon.

Alan was a cinch so long as no references were made to his height.

John was manageable if bagels were in the immediate vicinity.

Virgil could be tamed with tears of remorse, fake or genuine.

As for Scott…well, what he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.

TBC.

38 notes · View notes

quickspinner · 4 years

Text

I’ll Give You the Stars - Ch 3 Share Your Dreams with Me

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Luka was about ready to nominate Penny Rolling for sainthood. It had become crystal clear over the past couple of days that while Jagged could put his name in the spotlight for a brief flurry of publicity, it was Penny who could actually get his foot in the door of the industry. It was Penny who had sent Luka a list of classes and private tutors he should consider, not only on musical subjects like composition and performance, but on business and publicity as well. It was Penny who gave him tips for handling the media attention his unexpected performance had temporarily garnered, and asked for his approval on the press statement she had prepared for Jagged.

It was Penny who kept him from being completely overwhelmed and paralyzed with her prioritized action item list, and included with that list were applications for music scholarships Jagged sponsored—both for his age group and Juleka’s. Because chasing your dreams costs money, after all.

She’d also suggested he consider selling some of his compositions, and implied that Jagged Stone would love to have the first chance at whatever he came up with.

Luka had to take a long walk to calm down after she’d suggested his music might actually sell. That Jagged Stone might be willing to perform something he wrote. Rose was going to flip.

Finally, while Penny explained that she herself couldn’t represent him as repping Jagged alone was a full-time job, she had also sent him a list of agents she knew and trusted and promised to get him a meeting when he was ready.

So when Penny sent him a release form for his unscheduled appearance and begged him to have his mother sign it before her legal team paraded her corpse down the Champs Elysee for letting Jagged pull a minor onstage without parental consent, he gladly went to bat with Anarka, who despised paperwork in general and legal documents in particular, and pestered her until it got done. His mom would probably be extra contrary for at least a week, but that was fine, he could handle it. At this point Luka was so grateful that he was pretty sure he’d donate a kidney for Penny if she needed it.

Now, she told him, it was just up to him to keep the ball rolling until he was musically and emotionally ready to try for the big time—to keep his name out there and build his fanbase.

Fanbase. Like he was ever going to be emotionally ready for that.

Luka coped with his sudden crushing case of imposter syndrome by focusing on the band. He saw no reason why keeping the ball of his popularity rolling, as Penny put it, couldn’t include bringing the rest of Kitty Section along for the ride. After all, none of this would be happening if Marinette hadn’t done the same for him. He’d asked Penny to include Kitty Section’s Instagram in her press release, though he’d cringed at her insistence on the wording “Kitty Section featuring Luka Couffaine,” as if he was any more important than any other band member, and their number of followers had tripled overnight. Rose had posted pictures and a short clip of him on stage with Jagged, and she’d been calling every club and venue she could find to pitch Kitty Section.

It was a beautiful madness that was at the same time overwhelming and so far removed from his daily life that it didn’t quite seem real, and finally he decided to give himself a break from trying to figure it all out, and he took his guitar out on the deck.

Luka was staring dreamily into the sunset, singing softly along with his guitar, when suddenly his view was blocked by a curtain of black and purple hair with lace sleeves.

“Okay,” grumbled a familiar voice from within the curtain. “What the hell happened when you walked Marinette home?”

Luka sighed as Juleka came to plop herself down in the other chair.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“You haven’t sung in ages.”

He eyed her suspiciously. She was speaking in full sentences so something was up. “You didn’t want me too.”

“Not while you sounded like a cat in heat, but that’s been over for a while. Why now?”

Luka shrugged. “Why not?”

“Luka.”

He said nothing.

“Do you realize that ever since the concert you sound like you’re putting together the soundtrack for a heavy metal romcom?”

“I do not,” he grumbled. Yeah, smooth. God, nobody could get under your skin like a sibling. Especially his.

Juleka was silent for a minute. “She has a crush on Adrien Agreste.”

Luka’s jaw tightened and he turned his pick in his fingers, pressing into the hard edges.

“Like a super-mega-nearly-stalker crush, Luka.”

He said nothing.

“You know that stuttering, word-scrambling thing she does that you think is so cute? She’s a million times worse with him. It’s a small miracle that he hasn’t decided she’s a complete psycho.”

Luka sighed. “You’re telling me this why? And why now?”

Her face screwed up the way it used to when she was five and he wouldn’t let her play with him. “Because you’re my stupid brother and you’re getting in over your head, and I hate you and I’m scared you’re going to keep me awake with your sobbing when she breaks your heart.”

Luka had to smile at that. “I love you too, Juleka,” he said, with more sincerity than he’d intended. “And I already knew she had a thing for Adrien.”

“Has a thing, Luka. A big thing. Eiffel Tower big. The Great Wall of China, visible from space big.”

Luka plucked at a string, pretending to tune it. “Does he have a thing for her?”

“Luka.”

Luka groaned and rolled his eyes. “Look, I know the score. It’s fine. I’ll be fine. I’m just...we had a nice moment, okay? We don’t have to be destined soulmates for me to enjoy her company. Now get lost so I can watch the sunset without your mopey goth doom and gloom.”

Juleka sighed gustily. “I’m going to have to smother you with my pillow, aren’t I?”

“Tell me about Lila,” Luka said abruptly, and Juleka tilted her head.

“Why do you want to know about Lila?”

“I don’t know, I just kind of got a weird vibe that night while you guys were talking about her.”

“Marinette doesn’t like her.”

“Why?”

Juleka rolled her eyes. “Because Lila is pretty and confident and wealthy and well-connected, and Marinette’s insecure and jealous. She thinks Lila wants Adrien and it makes her act crazy.”

Juleka’s words were so discordant with Luka’s reality that he almost felt nauseous. “That doesn’t sound like Marinette at all,” he said cautiously.

“I told you, Marinette loses her mind when Adrien’s involved.”

“Yeah...so much so that she agreed to help him ask out another girl.”

“She probably did that so she could spy on his date. She’s as threatened by that Kagami girl as she is by Lila, only nobody actually likes Kagami, so she’s a tiny bit less crazy about it.”

“I was there, Juleka,” Luka reminded her sharply. “Nothing like that happened.”

Juleka leaned her chin in her hand and looked at him. “You’re biased, Luka.”

“Biased, not blind, and Marinette’s not exactly hard to read.” Luka put his guitar aside and turned in the chair to face her. “Juleka, you know me. I’m not wrong about this. I was there. She told me when she asked me to go that we were going to support Adrien, and that’s what she did. I watched her smile at him and encourage him when he was nervous. I gave him advice myself right in front of her. And yeah, she looked at him like a sad puppy whenever he couldn’t see, but she didn’t even give him a hint at how upset she was.” He sat back, studying his sister. “I thought Marinette was your friend.”

Juleka started. “She is.”

“Are you even listening to the things you’re saying about her? Does anything you’ve said actually make sense with what you know about Marinette? Look, I believe you when you say she’s crazy about Adrien, that makes sense, and I can believe she’d come up with some crazy convoluted things to get his attention, but do you really think she’s that jealous and petty? And if she were, that I’d be so crazy in love that I couldn’t tell?”

Juleka chewed her lip.

“Marinette’s done a lot for us...and for you, Jules.”

Juleka lowered her eyes. Luka just shook his head and reclined back on his chair, picking up his guitar. “Look, I think I’m done talking about this, forget I asked. Tomorrow’s the first day back at school since the concert and to be honest I’m kind of freaked out about how things will go, so…” He made a little shooing motion with his hand. “Can I just get some space please?”

Juleka didn’t move or speak for a moment. Then she said, “Are you going to be up here singing more sappy barely-rock love songs?”

“Vocal practice was on Penny’s list. I’m more marketable if I can perform my own vocals.”

“Right,” Juleka drawled. “Penny’s list.”

Something about her tone made him put down the guitar again to look her in the eye. “Juleka, anywhere I go, you go too, for as long as you’re up for the ride. I promise.”

She held his gaze for a moment, and then stood up, and started to walk off. “Whatever. Enjoy your quest for the perfect rock ballad to serenade Marinette. Just don’t call me to bail you out of jail when Officer Roger arrests you for public disturbance.”

“It’s not for Marinette.”

“Sure.” She waved over her shoulder. “Try not to be a total cliché or I’ll disown you.”

Luka just smiled and shook his head as he picked up his guitar.

***

The first day back in class after the crazy fever dream of the concert night was as surreal as he expected it to be. Some of his schoolmates were at the concert, enough to whisper and point and spread the news around the school. The weight of his guitar on his back was steadying, but it marked him. There were a lot of awkward conversations with people he barely knew.

The attention he got from girls who were suddenly giggly and handsy was what really threw him, until his best friend took pity and passed Luka his phone, open to a news site that had a photo of Luka playing at the concert. Luka stared at the photo and covered his mouth to keep from...something. He wasn’t sure if he would laugh or swear.

It was clearly a professional photo, not like the slightly hazy ones that Rose had taken from the pit. They’d caught him mid-riff, his arms flexed as he played, his hair flying about his face, his eyes focused and a smirk on his lips. He understood now why girls kept grabbing onto his arm or cuddling up and slipping their hands under his jacket. The picture made him look hot, and there was a lot of muscle on display in that custom-fitted MDC Original shirt that was totally hidden in his usual layered look.

Luka passed the phone back and put his head down on his desk while Evan tried to smother his laughter.

He wondered if Marinette had seen the picture. Maybe he should see if Penny could send her a copy. For her portfolio.

***

A week after the concert Rose texted that she had big news and asked if he could meet the rest of the band at the collège after class.

Rose and Juleka were the first band members out, walking with a red-headed girl Luka didn’t recognize. He’d expected Rose to be bouncing, bubbly, excited after the tone of her messages, but instead Rose looked a little uncomfortable, and Juleka...Luka’s eyebrows rose. Juleka had her murder face on.

“That’s so great, I knew Gustav would come through,” the redhead giggled to Rose. “He and I are such good friends ever since I grabbed that fire extinguisher and saved his club from burning down. I knew I could convince him to book Kitty Section!”

“Um, that’s really sweet of you, Lila,” Rose was saying. “When I called, you know, he said that he saw Jagged Stone’s press release and—“

“Oh, yes, I sent that to him as soon as I got it!”

“You...got it?”

“Of course, I get all of his press releases. You know we’re like this.” She held up her crossed fingers. “And honestly, I felt bad for you guys! I’m sure Marinette meant well but singling out one person to meet Jagged, it just seemed so unfair! You all deserved that chance, but maybe she just didn’t know him as well as she said—I mean, as well as she thought she did! I wish I’d been there like I planned, I could’ve done something. It’s too bad that I had to cancel to go help Prince Ali with that emergency at the children’s hospital.” She dropped her voice so that she was only barely audible to Luka. “Honestly I’m surprised Marinette would use her connections like that just to impress a boy, I would never dare, but I guess we all know how far Marinette will go when she has a crush!”

Juleka’s eyes lifted from the ground and met Luka’s.

He realized he had his murder face on too.

The two siblings smirked at each other and then both looked at their feet. Luka breathed, reminded himself of little black butterflies, and when he looked back up his face felt more normal.

“W-well, I understand why you might think that, but you haven’t heard Luka play, he really was the best choice and—“ Rose began, then Juleka caught Rose’s chin and turned her face toward Luka. Rose brightened. “Oh, there he is!”

“Oh!” Lila slipped ahead of them to plant herself in front of Luka, hands wrapped around the strap of her bag as she looked up at him from under her bangs. “You must be Luka, I’ve heard so much about you,” Lila gushed, batting her eyes at him. “Juleka talks about you all the time.” Juleka gave her a sidelong look, which made Luka want to laugh. Juleka hardly talked about anything, and never talked about Luka if she could help it. “Rose and Juleka and I were just talking about this gig I booked for Kitty Section at L’Accord d’Or!”

Luka smiled over Lila’s head at Rose. “That’s great Rose, I know you’ve been trying to get us in there for months.”

“Yeah,” Juleka said flatly. “Who knew that all that time all Lila had to do was make a phone call.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Rose fluttered, not seeming to know where to look. “What’s important is that we got the gig now!” Her face brightened with genuine excitement. “And it’s not at the open mic, we’re the headline act. And it pays!” She bounced on her toes, hands clasped together.

“That’s great news, Rose. I know you’ve worked really hard to make it happen.” Luka said, giving the girl’s shoulder a little squeeze. No wonder Juleka was pissed, if Lila was trying to take the credit.

When he looked back at Lila, Luka could practically see the calculations appearing over her head as she looked him up and down. He gave her a bland look back that was part disinterest and part warning. He knew that look, he’d seen it over and over in eyes the same blue as his own. It wasn’t even any special kind of insight that told him this girl was selfish and self-centered, just cold, hard experience.

Maybe he’d done too well at shielding Juleka if she couldn’t see it too. Luka turned his attention back to Rose.

“I thought we should get together and talk about it right away,” Rose was saying, “since we only have a couple of weeks to get ready. He wanted to do the gig soon while people are still talking about Luka. And I thought maybe Marinette could help us make up some T-shirts and things we could sell.”

“You’re so forgiving, Rose,” Lila said with admiration. “Even after Marinette ditched you guys to be with Luka.”

“Marinette’s done a lot for all of us,” Luka said mildly. “But Rose, If we’re getting paid, we need to make sure Marinette is too. She’s already done all of our costumes and the backdrop.”

“Wow,” Lila cooed, curling her hand on Luka’s arm with that slip-squeeze move girls had been pulling on him all week. “She did all of that? She must be so into you.”

Luka didn’t even hear her, gaze suddenly focused on the door. “Here she comes now.” He tried to keep his expression neutral, but he knew he hadn’t entirely succeeded. It was kind of impossible, given the rush that flooded his system. He hadn’t seen her since he had kissed her in the hall at the bakery. He pulled his arm away from Lila absently, plucking her hand off when she didn’t let go, and reached for the guitar pick in his pocket, pressing the edges into his fingers. He’d promised her when they kissed that it wouldn’t change anything and he was going to keep that promise if it killed him. Marinette caught sight of them, blushed, waved, and tripped on the steps.

Luka moved without thinking, even knowing he was too far away to help. Suddenly there was a flash of white and blond in front of them and Adrien was lowering a red-faced and stammering Marinette carefully to the pavement.

“Adrien,” Lila squealed, bouncing over to them. “Oh, it’s so good that you were there, that was a really bad fall, Marinette. I know you must be excited to see Luka but you should be more careful.”

Marinette’s face turned even redder as she got to her feet. Lila pushed in between them, and linked her arms through both Marinette’s and Adrien’s, pulling them with her back over to Rose, Juleka, and Luka. “I was just telling Luka about the gig I booked for Kitty Section!”

Juleka growled at Luka’s side and he put his hand on her shoulder. He got an elbow in the ribs for his trouble, but then she folded her arms and huffed out a sigh.

“Hey Luka, good to see you!” Adrien waved, trying to discreetly pull his other arm free of Lila’s. Marinette was less delicate, shoving the girl’s hand away with a disgusted expression. Undeterred, Lila simply wrapped both hands around Adrien’s arm as he continued. “I saw the clip of you on stage with Jagged, it was awesome! You looked like you were born for it.”

Luka ran his fingers through his hair. “Thanks, I’m just glad he picked that song since I’ve played it so many times at home. I thought I was going to pass out just meeting him, but he was really cool, and it was really funny watching him tease Marinette.” She blushed slightly when he smiled at her, and his heart did a little flip.

“Really?” Adrien chuckled. “I know he’s a fan of her work. She signed my copy of his last album cover.” He grinned and nudged Marinette with his elbow.

“Yeah, it’s adorable actually, he treats her like she’s his favorite niece or something.” Luka kept his attention on Adrien but watched Lila out of the corner of his eye. “And he brags about her like a proud grandpa.”

“Wow,” Lila said, opening her eyes wide. “Marinette must really have wanted to impress you to use her connections like that. That’s so brave, Marinette! I mean, I would never have dared to bother Jagged Stone just to impress a boy. Oh, isn’t it sooo cute that Marinette likes Luka so much, Adrien! They make such a cute couple!”

Marinette flushed from her hairline to her collar. “We’re not a couple! It wasn’t like that! I only know Jagged because I was in the right place at the right time and he happened to like my work. It was crazy lucky and Luka’s so talented, I just thought he should have the same chance that I had. And he did great and now he’s opening doors for Kitty Section. I think it’s awesome that we can all help each other succeed in our dreams. After all, what good are all these ‘amazing connections’ if you can’t use them to help your friends?”

Something ugly flashed across Lila’s face but Adrien spoke up before she could bite back. “You’re right, Marinette,” Adrien agreed brightly. “It might have been luck that you met Jagged but you’ve definitely made the most of it, and paying it forward to help Luka and Kitty Section is really cool.”

“Y-you think so?” Marinette nearly whispered, still red in the face.

“Yeah, it makes me think I should be more active thinking of ways I could do the same,” Adrien rubbed his neck. “I never really thought about it before, but there’s got to be more I could be doing.”

“Oh, Adrien, it’s so like you to think that way,” Lila purred. “Maybe we could have coffee sometime and we could talk about it? You know I’m involved in so many charity projects, I have tons of experience at that kind of thing.”

Marinette looked like she might explode. Adrien laughed uneasily and finally managed to get his arm away from Lila. He started backing away from the group, glancing back towards the silver car waiting for him. “Some other time, maybe, I have uh, somewhere to be right now. Bye guys, and congrats again on the gig!”

“Bye Adrien,” Lila waved cheerfully, and then turned to Marinette. Luka felt a physical pain at the way Marinette tensed up. “Oh, Marinette, it’s so good to see you’ve finally moved on from your hopeless crush on Adrien. I hope that means we can be friends now since there’s no more need for you to be jealous.”

Marinette folded her arms and gave Lila a look that Luka had last seen aimed at Bob Roth. “I think we both know that’s not going to happen and why.”

“Oh, Marinette, it’s really not fair for you to lead Luka on if you’re still hung up over Adrien,” Lila returned, sugary sweet, and Marinette went from red to white, and Luka felt his own face heat. “Or,” Lila lowered her voice to a perfectly audible stage whisper. “Don’t tell me that you went to all that trouble for him and he still turned you down. You poor thing, that’s so…” she paused, as if looking for the word, and then smirked. “Pathetic.”

Lila whipped around as Luka began to laugh. “You can’t be serious,” he managed to get out between chortles. Beside him, Juleka was smirking. “You’re not taking anyone in with that one.”

“Yeah,” Juleka drawled. “He’s been stupid over Marinette since they met.” Rose giggled, though she still looked uncomfortable.

“All right guys, are we having this meeting or what?” Luka stepped around Lila and put his arm around Marinette’s shoulders to guide her away. “Anybody know if Ivan is coming?”

“Oh, he asked me to tell you he had to stay and talk to Miss Bustier for a little bit,” Marinette said. “He’ll be along in a few minutes. Um, if you want, we could have the meeting at my place? It’s not big but at least we wouldn’t be standing in the sun. Plus you know Maman and Papa will feed us.”

Rose and Juleka both perked up. “Sounds like a plan,” Luka grinned. “Lead the way.”

“Don’t worry, Marinette,” he heard Lila purr behind them. “I’ll take good care of Adrien now that you’ve moved on. You couldn’t have gotten in at Gabriel even with Adrien’s help, anyway.”

“Ugh, she makes me nauseous,” Luka said softly to Marinette as they approached the crosswalk. “I see what you meant, now.”

“Oh my God, Luka, I’m so sorry, that must have been so embarrassing for you,” Marinette whimpered.

“Not really. It was the truth, I’m crazy about you and I’m not ashamed of it.” Luka tightened his arm around her, and then reluctantly let her go, pretending not to see her radiant blush. “She wouldn’t be so threatened by you if you weren’t so amazing. People like that, you almost have to feel sorry for. How lame must her life be to make her so bitter?”

Marinette was silent for a moment, her blush fading as her expression fell. “So you think I should just let it go?”

“What? No!” Luka said, surprised. “Feeling sorry for her doesn’t mean putting up with her crap. Whatever’s going on in her life, she has a choice about how she treats other people. And I can tell you from experience, people like her will take everything they can get and then burn down the rest just out of spite.”

“Adrien knows how she is,” Marinette said quietly. “But he didn’t want me to say anything. He said making a bad guy suffer has never turned them into a good guy.”

Luka snorted softly. “All that is required for the triumph of evil is that good people do nothing.”

Marinette’s head whipped around to look up at him. He met her eyes got a moment and then focused on the sidewalk ahead of him.

“Look, it’s to Adrien’s credit that he is the way he is. In a way he’s proof of what I was saying. He has a crappy home life and he still chooses to be optimistic and compassionate, and maybe that means he has a weak spot for people like Lila and Chloé. Maybe if he admitted to himself that some people are beyond redemption, then he has to admit that there’s no hope for his own father. That his dad will always be cold and calculating and manipulative and Adrien will never be good enough for him.” Luka paused and took a deep breath. “It’s a hard thing to admit to yourself. It’s even harder to admit that the reason those people won’t change, is because they don’t care enough to try.” He glanced back at Rose and Juleka, glad to see they were trailing far enough behind that they wouldn’t overhear. “I get it, you know? He still has hope. I just…” He lowered his voice without really meaning to and she swayed a little closer to hear. “I remember how it felt when there wasn’t any hope left, just all of us exhausted and used up and tossed away, and all I can think about is how much time we wasted believing the lie that if we just tried hard enough we could make him want to stay. So no, I can’t agree with Adrien. Giving in to selfishness never turned it into generosity either.”

Marinette stopped walking and put her arms around Luka’s middle, squeezing tight. He patted her arm, and then pulled away, a little uncomfortable with having said so much. “Anyway, you do what you think is right, Marinette. Protect yourself and trust your instincts. You might not always get it right the first time, but I know you will in the end.”

“Thanks, Luka. I think I needed to hear that.”

They waited in silence at the crosswalk for a moment for the others to catch up. Luka chuckled suddenly. “You know, she made a mistake today.”

“What?” Marinette blinked at him.

“Lila screwed up. She pissed off Juleka.” Luka grinned. “Rose has been spinning her wheels for months trying to get us into that club, and Lila just up and claims it was all because of her that Rose finally got through. I’m not sure whether Juleka believes Lila and is mad that she didn’t do anything sooner, or if she knows Lila didn’t do anything and is mad at her for lying, but either way, she’s mad that Rose is unhappy. So that’s one less person on Lila’s side anyway. That’s how I know you’ll come out on top no matter what you decide to do.” He didn’t even try to hide the affection in his face when he looked at her. “You can call it karma or whatever, but I’m sure you’ll always have people on your side. Maybe there will always be a Lila out there, taking the credit and name-dropping and looking out for number one. But you...you’re always lifting up the people around you. You don’t let pursuing your own dreams stop you from caring about everyone else’s.”

As he said the words, the world seemed to stop for a heartbeat, and suddenly he knew what he wanted to sing for her. Her pink cheeks grew a little pinker as he smiled a slow, secret smile, but before she could ask any questions, Rose and Juleka joined them and they all crossed the street. “You’ll come to the gig, right?” he asked, trying to keep his tone casual. “We wouldn’t even be playing a place this big if it weren’t for you.”

Marinette sighed. “I wish you’d stop saying that. You’re the one who impressed Jagged. You’re the one who played in front of all those people.”

“You’re the one who gave me that chance. But I’m sorry, I’ll try not to bring it up anymore if it makes you uncomfortable. Anyway, will you come? I’d really like you to be there.”

Marinette waved her phone. “Already on my calendar. Actually I was thinking I might try to get there when you guys do so I can help you get ready, if that’s okay? I want to make sure your costumes are perfect for this!”

Luka smiled. “Better make sure your website is ready for all the traffic you’re going to get. Rose said people are already asking about T-shirt’s and things.”

“I’m not surprised, you did make it look good.” Marinette slapped her hand over her mouth and Luka looked away and coughed to hide his laughter.

***

Kitty Section worked harder than they ever had for the next couple of weeks. It was a scramble to finish the new song Luka and Rose had been working on, and then they had to figure out what else they were going to play and practice that. (Penny said covers would be a good way to pad their setlist, Luka had informed the group.) Fortunately all of the band members were extremely motivated, so once they got over the hurdle of agreeing on which songs to play (which turned out to be a very high hurdle indeed), they worked relentlessly to get them down, meeting every chance they got to practice.

Marinette had to miss a lot of those rehearsals, but that was fine--that was actually good as far as Luka was concerned, since he had to get the band on board with his plan and then teach them the music he had reworked to suit Kitty Section's metal sound.

He tried to frame it as platonically as he could, but he still spent almost as much time ignoring teasing comments (and Rose’s overly romanticized fantasy world where he and Marinette had a wedding officiated by Jagged Stone before honeymooning during Luka’s first international tour) as he did practicing. As he lived with Juleka, he was accustomed to blocking out things he didn’t want to listen to, so he let most of it roll off his back.

Luka was surprised when Ivan stopped after practice one day to lean against the rail next to him.

“Hey,” Ivan said, rubbing his hand over his hair. “You um...okay? We were kinda giving you a really hard time today.”

“Yeah, you were.” Luka shrugged. “But it’s okay. I know I’m an idiot.”

“You’re really in love with Marinette?”

Luka sighed. “Head over heels, man.”

“Wow,” Ivan mumbled, and then was silent for a moment. “So you think the song’ll work?”

“Nope.”

Ivan blinked. “Really? But…”

“Rose’s romantic fever dreams aside, I’m not doing this to try to win Marinette over. I know she loves somebody else and—well, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wish for something different, but that’s her choice to make, you know? I just…” He paused, automatically beginning to play his feelings as he tried to find words.

“I owe Marinette a lot,” Ivan said after a moment. “She was the one who really encouraged me to confess to Mylène. I might never have gotten up the guts of it weren’t for her.”

Luka grinned, looking up at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, I was the first akuma victim, you know. Yay me.”

Luka huffed. “I feel you on that one.”

“I was so in love with Mylène but every time I tried to get close to her, I scared her. I was feeling super down about it. Marinette gave me a pep talk. I mean, things still kinda got worse before they got better, but it turned out all right.”

Luka shook his head, smiling to himself. “She’s something else. You know I was impressed with her before we even met. You wouldn’t believe how much money I’ve spent on ice cream and nail polish every class photo day for years. I was all set for Juleka to come home crying yet again, and instead she comes home with a smile on her face. Even having been akumatized that same day, she was so happy. I asked her what happened and she just smiled and said, ‘Marinette.’”

“She’s always helping out, huh?” Ivan rubbed his hand over his head again.

Luka slid his hand over the fretboard thoughtfully. “I just...want her to know how special she is, you know? Like I said, it’s not about winning her over, just...letting her know.”

“Yeah, I think I get it.” Ivan punched him lightly in arm and Luka tried not to wince. “Still...good luck, man. You and Marinette, you both deserve good things.”

“Thanks, Ivan.”

Even though Marinette couldn’t always be at practice, she was still working for them. She presented them with three new t-shirt designs, all of them simpler than the ones she’d originally made for the band so they could be easily sourced out to a printing company. She’d teamed up with Marc and Nath (names Luka only vaguely recognized) and they’d created posters and fliers featuring comic-book style drawings of the band playing on the back of a winged cat unicorn. Luka had to admit, once he stopped laughing, that they were pretty awesome. The band plastered them all over their schools, in as many local coffee shops and music stores as they could get to, and Luka had to smile when he passed one proudly displayed in the bakery window.

And somehow, the image, including the gig date and time, got passed to Jagged Stone, who tweeted it out to his billions of followers. “I thought we were going to have to give Nath oxygen when we told him,” Marinette giggled.

By the time the gig night rolled around, it was no shock to anyone that the club was packed.

***

“Are you nervous?” Marinette asked as she helped Luka lift the breastplate into place and began to fasten the ties.

“If you’d asked me that yesterday, I would’ve said yes, totally, but tonight? Honestly, I’m stoked,” Luka told her, tilting his mask in his hands to admire the play of the glitter under the club lights. “This place is amazing, the set list is sick, the crowd energy is amazing, and your costumes look unreal under these lights. We’ve worked really hard and I feel like we’re ready for this. I can’t wait to get out there.”

Marinette shook her head. “You guys are amazing, if it were me I’d pass out. Is this okay, can you move?”

Luka moved his arms experimentally. “Good as gold. You’re amazing in plenty of other ways, Marinette.”

He wasn’t even sure she heard him. She bounced and squealed. “You look so great, you’re right, this is gonna be awesome! You’re gonna knock ‘em dead!”

She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. He blinked at her but Marinette just flashed him a shy smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, and turned away to help Rose.

He took a few minutes to himself to just close his eyes and breathe, and when he opened his eyes again the rest of the band was ready, and Marinette was passing him on her way to the door. “Hey,” he caught her shoulder. “Can you try to get a spot up front? I want to be able to see you.”

Marinette smiled. “I’ll be there. Adrien’s already out there and he has his bodyguard holding space for me and Nino and Alya.”

“Great,” he said, letting his hand fall to catch hers and squeeze it. “Hey guys, all in real quick before Marinette leaves?”

The band crowded together to slap a high five. “Kitty Section!” They yelled together. Marinette and Mylène went to find their places.

Luka slipped his mask over his face. “All right guys, let’s do this.”

The crowd roared as the band walked on stage. Luka took a deep breath as he slipped his guitar over his head. Remember the plan. He played a short riff to get the crowd’s attention as the others took their places. He stepped up next to Rose at the center mic as she welcomed the crowd, and then handed off the microphone to him. There was a cheer as he took off his mask and waved to the crowd.

“Thanks for coming out to hear us tonight,” he began. “Let me introduce the members of Kitty Section, first on lead vocals, Rose Lavillant!” Beside him Rose lifted her mask, waved, and held up a victory sign. “Rose is also writes our lyrics, runs our Instagram, and books our shows, she’s amazing and her hard work and persistence got us here tonight.” Eat that, Lila. “Next, if you didn’t know, I have the coolest kid sister in Paris and she’s here on bass, Juleka Couffaine.” Juleka left her mask in place and her wave looked more like clawing the air. “And last, he plays a killer set of drums but he’s also one of the greatest friends any of us could ask for—especially if you have furniture to move—ladies and gentlemen, Ivan Bruel.” Ivan stood up behind his drum set and punched his arms in the air as the crowd cheered. “Alright, let’s get this place rocking, I’m Luka Couffaine and we are,” they all bellowed together, “Kitty Section!”

Ivan counted them off as Luka slipped his mask back on and relinquished the mic to Rose, her own mask back in place as she belted, “Oh I love unicorns…”

The energy in the crowd was amazing and it definitely fired up the band. Luka didn’t think they’d ever played better. They went through the first half of their set flawlessly and Luka felt incredible.

Then it was time, and for the first time that evening the chill of nerves wound down Luka’s spine.

“Thank you!” Rose hollered into the mic. “And now we have something special for you tonight, so ladies and gentlemen, kittens and unicorns, give it up for Kitty Section’s own Luka Couffaine!”

The audience erupted as Luka took off his mask, handing it to Rose as he took his place at the mic.

“Wow, thank you,” he said, grinning out at them and hoping his nerves didn’t show as he raised the mic stand to a more comfortable height. “Really, thank you, I’m so humbled and grateful to have all your support.” Chants of Luka, Luka broke out and he laughed. “Wow, seriously, you guys. Thank you so much.” He cleared his throat. “So this next song is maybe an odd choice for a rock band, but I hope you’ll like what we’ve done with it. I’ve been thinking a lot about hopes and dreams lately. I think you can probably guess why,” he grinned as laughter rippled across the audience. “It’s been a pretty surreal experience. And it’s got me thinking a lot about dreams and life and just...potential, you know? I think about how lucky I am to have gotten the opportunities I’ve had. But, at the same time it feels disrespectful to call it luck, because it was intentional. It was a very special person taking the opportunities she’s been given and passing them on. If you ask her, she’ll tell you she didn’t do very much, but that’s not even remotely true. For one thing, she designed our awesome stage gear,” he tapped the sparkling kittycorn on his breastplate. “And if you could have been there in the band meetings and listened to what the poor girl had to put up with while we were tossing ideas around, you’d be even more impressed.” There was another ripple of laughter, and Luka chuckled, turning his pick in his fingers. “You know, some people think you have to be ruthless to follow your dreams, that you’ll never get anywhere without stepping on the people around you.” His eyes locked on Marinette, who was gaping at him, mouth open and one hand locked on Alya’s arm. “But then there are some people who aren’t afraid to share their dreams and who are excited to share yours, and that’s what Marinette has been for us. I don’t have time to tell you half of the things she’s done for Kitty Section and also for me personally, or to tell you how she’s encouraged and inspired a lot of people in this room, and if I tried she’d probably pass out.” He grinned and winked at her. “So instead I’m just gonna say, this one’s for you, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the girl with a million dreams, and a heart big enough to hold all of ours.” There were scattered cheers from Marinette’s friends, but for the most part the room seemed to hold its collective breath.

Luka closed his eyes for a moment, gathering himself. When he felt ready, he began to play what he’d been working on for weeks. He took a deep breath, and stepped up to the mic, eyes still half-closed as he began to sing, his voice low and mellow despite the metal sound of his guitar beneath. “I close my eyes and I can see a world that’s waiting up for me, that I call my own…Through the dark, through the door, through where no one’s been before, but it feels like home…”

Luka opened his eyes, and smiled down at Marinette, who now had both hands over her mouth. “They can say, they can say it all sounds crazy, they can say they can say I’ve lost my mind...I don’t care, I don’t care if they call me crazy...we can live in a world that we design…”

Luka tore his eyes away from her, scanning across the crowd, feeling Ivan’s rhythm through his feet and Juleka’s bass thrumming behind him and Rose’s voice coming in to support his. “Cause every night I lie in bed, the brightest colors fill my head, a million dreams are keeping me awake…I think of what the world could be, the vision of the one I see, a million dreams is all it’s gonna take...a million dreams for the world we’re gonna make.” He was starting to see faces in the crowd, now, friends that had come out to support them, faces with dreams for their own. He wanted every one of them to have the same gift Marinette had given him. He sang on, and his already racing heart tripped and stuttered, and he closed his eyes again to keep back the tears trying to spring up as he poured his heart into his hands and voice.

“However big, however small, let me be part of it all...share your dreams with me...we may be right, we may be wrong, but I wanna bring you along, to the world I see, to the world we close our eyes to see, we close our eyes to see…”

He dropped his hands from the guitar and held the microphone instead.

“Every night I lie in bed, the brightest colors fill my head, a million dreams are keeping me awake.” He barely remembered to pick up his guitar in time to catch the crescendo. “I think of what the world could be, a vision of the one I see, a million dreams is all it’s gonna take, a million dreams for the world we’re gonna make…”

His voice caught on the last line. “For the world we’re gonna make.”

There was a beat of total silence, and the crowd exploded. Luka could only raise a hand to acknowledge them as he stepped back, and accepted his mask back from Rose, who hugged him impulsively before coming back to her place at the microphone. He settled the mask back over his face, breathing hard, and tried to remember what they were supposed to play next. It was several minutes before he felt composed enough to look at Marinette.

Her face was in her hands, but she looked up just as he looked down and caught his eyes, and though her face was tear-streaked, the smile she gave him was blinding.

#quickspins #backlog #i'll give you the stars #lukanette #i am lukanette trash i admit it #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #mlfics

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secondarychristine · 4 years

Text

CC - MatPat

Good day to all, and this is my first post in this account, talking about one of internet celebrities, a Youtuber, a content creator, MatPat

Matthew Robert Patrick, also known by MatPat, is an American internet celebrity and is well-known for his content The Game Theorists (or Game Theory) where he discuss on topics such as the logic and the lore of various video games. His other channel s such as The Film Theorists (or Film Theory) or The Food Theorists ( or Food Theory) are his spinoffs that also discuss about similar subjects in filmography and food. He is also active in another social platforms such as Twitter (MatPatGT), Instagrams (matpatgt; MatPat (GameTheorists), and Facebook (Matthew Patrick). In 2015, he created one of Youtube’s live gaming channel, GTLive, and in 2016, he created Youtube Premium Series MatPat’s Game Lab.

He was born on November 15th, 1986, in Medina, Ohio, U.S. Growing up, he took an interest in fine arts, especially musical theatre. He graduated from college on December 28, 2009, and moved to New York where he auditioned for theatrical roles. After two years of near-total unemployment, he uploaded the first episode of Game Theory.

He first created Youtube account under the name Matthew Patrick13 where he uploaded his performances on stages and singing. He married his college girlfriend, Stephanie Cordato on May 19, 2012 and has one child. He quitted his job as a stage director and acting business to pursue another career. Inspired by the Youtube series Extra Credits episode “Tangential Learning”, he created Game Theory with the purpose of creating “gaming’s tangential learning experience”. The Game Theorists reached 1 million subscribers on December 17, 2013, and 10 million in July 2018. Currently, The Game Theorists has 19.9 million subscribers and over 2.8 billion video views. His most viewed video is “Can Gamers SURVIVE the Real Mirror’s Edge?” which has 69 million views.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=snjhDUQktMs

His first content of Game Theory was uploaded 9 years ago titled ‘Is Chrono Trigger’s Time Travel Accurate?’. The video explained how time travel in Chrono Trigger works. The video has almost reached two million views.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tgLSUuKqH4w

He then expanded to various games, such as Minecraft, Pokemon, Among Us, Portal, etc. He is very attached to video games. But, he took it to another level. He analyses the theories and fan theories in his video. His dedication of researching and gathering data is fascinating for me. The topics might sound trivial, but he manages to pique the interests of audience who have never thought about.

MatPat also holds the Youtube records for the most money donated in single charity livestreams. And his livestreams had many other popular Youtubers such as Markiplier and TheOdd1sOut. Even Scott Cawthon, the creator of Five Nights at Freddy’s, also had an appearance.

I was introduced to his content back when Five Nights at Freddy’s was a thing. Five Nights at Freddy’s (FNAF) is an American media franchise created by Scott Cawthon, which began on 2014 when he created his first FNAF game, Five Night at Freddy’s (1). It quickly became a worldwide pop-culture phenomenon. The success of the video games led to another series of books, a guide book, an activity book and an anthology series. Other than the game mechanic of the player being near helpless, the games also have mysterious stories and plot that are very hard to solve, even to this day. Those complex stories caught the attention of MatPat. The total of his FNAF theories videos is 42 videos (and I think most of his videos cover FNAF). That is only discuss this one particular series, and to be honest I am losing a track of it because it is just that many and complicated for my brain. I think this series succeeded in gaining more audience and being known by lot of people, since the game has been people’s guilty pleasure. People say that the game sucks… ironically.

His first FNAF video was posted on October 23, 2014, goes by the title ‘Game Theory: Five Nights at Freddy’s SCARIEST Monster is You!’.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=th_LYe97ZVc

The video has reached 26 million. I discovered that there are still many new comments in this particular video. People love rewatching this particular series, because as I said the plot is too complex. So complex it takes 46 videos, and possibly more in the future just to ‘solve’ the mystery. The new game of FNAF is also coming soon, so best be prepared.

The list:

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLbc0sHjcmje6NCMaJdeLnCWejp5gQuknI

Another things that interest me are the editing and his tone when narrating. He sounds so enthusiastic when delivering his theories. He slips comedies in his discussion and it just makes me love listening to him talk even though I am a little bit confused. I can rewatch his videos whenever I like just to understand what the games all about.

About the editing…. I do not know anything about editing, so I am going to say that the way he deliver his videos is neat and cute. The pictures he uses make it more interesting to see and easy to understand.

This the picture of himself that he always uses in his video. You know when you watch his video.

---

Move on to his another channel is The Film Theorists where he discuss the logic, headcanons or other theories regarding films and cartoons. The recent videos he posted was movies from Godzilla vs Kong, “Why Godzilla Wins”, and a Disneyplus tv series called WandaVision, “The Secret THIRD Witch Revealed!” I rarely watch this channel, because I rarely watch films. If anything related to films, the videos I usually watch on Youtube are mostly reviews.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SAFv2T62Frc

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eaYsHV3rIYk

His third channel is called The Food Theorists. Anything interesting theories about food are all there. But, I never watched food theory so I cannot comment on anything.

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCHYoe8kQ-7Gn9ASOlmI0k6Q

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I can recommend you for those who never heard of this, go watch his FNAF theories. Though they are complicated, they are still my favourites.

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bigskydreaming · 4 years

Text

Idk guys, could people maybe just try taking me at my word every now and again? I mean, what exactly is it that people think I get out of these posts?

Is it popularity? Do you think I make these posts to be popular? Because I took several months upon moving into Batfandom a year or two ago before actually making these kinds of posts more than once in a blue moon, and I was waaaaaaaaaaay more popular initially than I am now. I lost literal scores of followers once people realized this is a Thing for me, and could probably get most of them back if I just....stopped. Given the number of people who seem to follow and unfollow me regularly, as if just to see if I’m ‘done yet.’

So.....no, its not about popularity.

Is it about note counts? Do you think I make these posts to get notes, by being controversial, or with ‘the anti’s’? Because if you look through my archives you’d see that without variation, I consistently get FAR less notes on these posts that I do compared to like....literally ANY other content I post. When I write a Batfandom meta indepth, its rare for me not to get hundreds of notes on it. When I write a post like the last one examining survivor-related topics in depth, its rare for me to get up to even fifty notes.

So......no, its not about note counts.

Is it about garnering sympathy/pity? I do rely on donation posts sometimes, and I might see gains there due to people having sympathy or pity for me that they’re afraid to tangibly express online due to the controversial nature of many of my posts, but that might show up there, right? Well, sure, except for the fact that....my sob story is in no way reliant on these more controversial posts to exist, and in fact would be a hell of a lot more compelling when it comes to attaining donations if I DIDN’T add in all these other posts that are blatantly alienating to a lot of the people who were like “you had me at abuse/incest/rape survivor who needs major surgery as an end result of his gay bashing way back in college but then you lost me when you said I am a literal rapist for reading and writing specific fics like wtf dude?”

So.....no, its not about garnering sympathy/pity or even donations.

Is it about just being interesting or standing out or getting attention? Do you think I make these posts like a broken record because I have nothing else to talk about? Because uh, I have my pet topics but I can literally write essays on pretty much ANYTHING and everything about Dick Grayson or Scott McCall or Bobby Drake or plenty of other characters. And again, like I mentioned above, consistently get WAY more attention and engagement from people on any of those. I don’t need even my survivor status to be interesting, thanks, and I don’t even actually care all that much about it at the end of the day, because anyone who’s followed me for any length of time knows I would be perfectly happy to talk for a week straight about my OCs or original content even, as long as I have even just one or two people engaging with it, lol.

So....no, its not about being interesting or getting attention.

Is it about being a know-it-all, regarded as having certain expertise or being an authority on a certain topic? If so, that’d be a weird choice given how often I talk about how being a survivor is NOT a monolithic experience, and the fact that I center myself in my posts on the subject is not because I’m presuming I speak for everyone, but rather specifically to keep my views and experiences tailored specifically to ME and my own experiences entirely....the only viewpoint from which I AM qualified to speak with authority. I don’t post what I post the way I post to be viewed as the be-all and end-all of surivor views, and I don’t make it about myself and my experiences to wave my survivor credentials around and shut down opposition - if I did, it’d be blatantly ineffective given the amount of anon hate I get and derailing my posts experience, most of the time using information I’ve freely offered up in my own posts in an attempt to trigger or silence me. I post the way I post in these posts for one reason only, usually to my own detriment - I’m simply trying to humanize a topic that far too many people IMO deliberately try to view as abstract and hypothetical in order to distance themselves from the real issues. Not to mention like, I know a great deal about a lot of things? There aren’t many other former stuntmen or actors posting in this part of the internet that I’ve seen, I could focus on my own expertise there, or in any number of academic topics I’ve explored a lot just out of personal interest. Hell, I’ve been called a ‘Dick Grayson expert’ more than once, and could easily just focus on my knowledge and insight of his character, if I weren’t so often alienating half his fandom with these posts, right?

So.....no, its not about being a know-it-all or regarded as having certain expertise or being an authority on a certain topic.

So really, when it comes right down to it, there’s only two things it could possibly be, wouldn’t you agree? Either I’m speaking from a place of honesty as to very real reactions and views I have on this subject, born of my own experiences and knowledge.....or I’m just speaking out my ass from a place of wanting to feel morally superior about something.

But does it really make sense for it to be the latter? If I wanted a moral superiority hill to die on in order to feel good about myself or whatever, do you really think this is the only one I could come up with, or come back to this often? Given the number of ways it seems to shoot me in the foot in the process? Oh, I know I have a certain tone when I speak on this subject. I know I ooze the same ‘you sound so dumb right now’ tone I accuse others of when I approach stuff like this, but the thing is.....all of that ALWAYS traces back to like...me REACTING off of something, not just randomly up and deciding hey this is a good week to be hated by bringing up something I know damn well 90% of my followers would be happy to see me never bring up again.

And for a guy who clearly LIKES interacting and engagement on this platform as much as I do, does that make any sort of sense at all? Maybe every now and then, but as often as I do post about this stuff, for as long as I’ve been?

Or could it possibly just be like.....I’m telling the truth, and this shit is really, truly exhausting in a way that I, and any other survivor it exhausts, shouldn’t HAVE to put up with. Its not like I came out of the gate swinging, in fandom at large or even this fandom specifically. It took time to get me just....tired of it. The same bullshit, every day, every week, without fail. And again, it all mirrors the same shit I’ve been hearing from people my whole life, to avoid engaging with the ways they weren’t even complicit in my past traumas, but just....inconvenienced by it. People talk a good game about being there for us, believing us, supporting us, but in my experience, the second something beyond a simple acknowledgment of status is asked for, the second something someone would have to ACT UPON is asked for.....the switch flips.

And that shit. Is. Exhausting.

I don’t make noise on this subject because I in any way actionably or actually benefit from it. I don’t even make noise on it EXPECTING to, at this point. I make noise simply because.....the subject deserves noise, and I deserve to make it if I make that choice, and for too much of my life that just wasn’t a possibility. And all of this bullshit, as a result? Make no mistake, its just bullshit. I don’t ever call it me being bullied or victimized or harassed or martyred, because its none of those things and I don’t regard it as those things. (Well I occasionally refer to that TW anon as harassing, but that’s because their behavior is not just limited to me and very much fits every textbook definition of the word and needs to be regarded as such). But the rest of it? Like, I don’t have a martyr or victim complex because I don’t feel victimized by this shit, lmfao. It really is just exhausting and irritating. It makes me tired and annoyed. Not harmed. Even being genuinely triggered by shit, which happens more than I care to have it happen, is at the end of the day still just an unwanted echo of a shout that I heard years ago, and an echo is never going to hurt me the way that initial shout did or have the same impact. I’ll never quite get how people seem so convinced that their anon hate or triggering effect is going to accomplish what nothing before this actually did or be the TRULY demoralizing impact I can’t move past or whatever, as opposed to just being irritating and frustrating in its hypocrisy, but well. Guess people are projecting about feeling powerless in their own lives, lol, whoops.

But just....the hypocrisy of all this grates. And the only thing I’m really looking for out of it, if I’m even looking for anything at all, is just even a few people over the years saying something as simple as “i never really thought about it like this but I can see it now.” Is it really that hard to just listen to people? My ‘voice of moral superiority/condescension’ in these things comes from the fact that I AM listening, I HAVE been listening, and that’s why I know for a fact that the things being said in opposition are all things I’ve heard MANY MANY times before, and refuted or seen refuted each time. Can some of you say the same thing about yours? Especially when that tone only comes up in posts that repeatedly reaffirm that you’re not actually responding to anything I’ve actually said or written, but merely your own idea of what you THINK I’m saying, or else just a viewpoint you’re comfortable refuting, even if its not actually mine and at best tangential to my own? When you can find something insightful in so many of my posts about a character we both like, and understand even the most rambling of my essays about Dick Grayson just fine, can you truly and with confidence say the disconnect when it comes to hearing and understanding what I say in these posts is all mine? Are you sure it has NOTHING to do with anything you bring into your reading of these posts from a place of defensiveness or preconceptions of your own?

Just....think about it.

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shutupandshipit · 4 years

Text

Live Stream - Oneshot

Summary: Everyone knew that if you wanted to have sex or needed help through you heat/rut, you went to Midoriya.

Or where Midoriya is promiscuous and a cam girl, and Kirishima is an avid viewer who catches part of a live stream that wasn't meant to be live.

Pairing: Bakudeku

Rating: M

Notes: More outside POV for BakuDeku! I told y'all that I wasn't going to stop. I might expand on this one later, just because I love a good shameless slut character (because there's nothing shameless about enjoying sex). Also, I love a good cam girl fic.

Aaaaanyway, I've got Kiri's POV this time for you to partake in. Hope y'all enjoy! See you in my next one!

Everyone knew that if you wanted to have sex or needed help through you heat/rut, you went to Midoriya. He was the unapologetic slut of the school with a never ending stream of lovers to entertain him. Even the teachers knew about his exploits, but never did anything about it simply due to the decrease of rut and heat related attacks. They promised though that if a pregnancy occurred or there was a sudden rash of STIs, there would be repercussions.

Midoriya had taken the warning in stride and shrugged it off. He had told Kirishima time and time again that he had no plans of getting pregnant so early in his life and career.

Everyone also knew that he only took credit for having sex with you. If it ruined any relationship you may have been in, well then that was your problem.

Midoriya had a few simple questions he asked you and rules that you had to follow if you so happened to partake in his services.

1) No touching. For the duration of your session, your hands would be tied to his headboard. That was non-negotiable. The rule was in place for his protection more than yours. This was sometimes relaxed when it came to friends of partners he saw frequently and trusted enough to know what they were allowed to do.

2) No biting. Being tied to the headboard, it was harder to accomplish than normally, but if you made any attempt to do so, you'd be out of his room whether you'd gotten off or not. He expected you to find control even in a heat/rut haze. If you couldn't control yourself, you had no right being in his bed. There were no exceptions.

3) A condom would be used at all times. He didn't take it raw or suck dick without protection. It was simple as that.

4) Do not involve emotions. It wasn't his fault if you caught feelings for him, and he would not take responsibility for them. Sex with him was a no strings attached, purely physical transaction. He was a bunny omega after all with a sexual appetite that couldn't be satisfied by one singular person, so there was no room to get butt hurt about any other partners the frequented his bed.

5) Do not, under any circumstances, ask about his heat or offer your services during his heat. If you did, you were liable to have your ass verbally flayed and all contact with him cut immediately.

6) Rule 6 was probably the most important of all. You would be recorded and posted on his cam channel. Only your lower half would be shown. Your face would never be recorded. If you weren't okay with that or refused to sign his release form, you wouldn't make it passed his threshold.

His questions were simple as well.

1) Were you clean? This included drugs, STIs and any contagious sickness you may have at the time.

2) Were you in your heat/rut?

3) Had you ever had sex before?

He didn't ask if you were in a relationship because he didn't care. It was your choice to meet with him, so you were liable for any consequences caused by your actions. So if something did happen, you weren't allowed to come crying to him.

The last thing everyone knew was that he spent his heat alone. Or at least, if he did have someone he shared them with, no one knew who it was.

Kirishima knew all of this from personal experience. Even though he and Mina were together, it was hard to satisfy his alpha with another alpha, and the same went for her. So, they both employed Midoriya's services pretty often, both alone and together. They were one of the only couples Midoriya featured, and it had shot his popularity through the roof after the first video he did with them.

He offered a kick back of any money he made from his videos, but from what Kirishima knew, people rarely took him up on his offer. All the money he made went to his mother and omega related foundations. He was in it to satisfy his omega, and the money was simply a byproduct.

Kirishima had asked Midoriya once how much his partners would receive if they did take his offer, and the amount had floored him. He hoped all those foundations put his donations to good use.

It always surprised him exactly how popular Midoriya was on the internet.

Then again, sitting in his room with his laptop open on his stomach, nodding off as he waited for Midoriya's Friday live stream to begin, he could see the chat room already filling. 1,000 turned into 2,000 turned into 3,000, and just kept ticking. A countdown ran down on the screen, and people had already begun tittering away in the chat.

Kirishima wondered if the entire school was watching. He knew at least half of his class was. That's why the dorm was always so quiet on Fridays save for the sounds coming from Midoriya's room.

Just like every Friday at exactly 8 o'clock, the stream went live. Midoriya sat on his bed in front of a black back drop and on top of creamy white sheets, knees splayed out to his sides. He wore pure white lace panties and garter belt. Encasing his arms and legs were silvery metallic support sleeves that his garter belt clipped onto. A half face bunny mask covered the upper portion of his face. A white wig to match the white tuft of his tail covered his very recognizable green hair. The green fur of his ears had been sprayed with temporary white dye that would wash out when he showered.

When he was on his channel, he became Snow Bunny, beloved omega of the cam world.

Despite who he filmed with, not everyone who watched his channel knew who he was, and he did what he could to hide his identity.

Granted, if you asked him, he would say that society should normalize sex in relation to heroes. They could be sex icons in their own right, but if they were actually caught having sex or with multiple partners, it was a scandal. He wasn't really that concerned if his channel was discovered later in his career, but right now, it wouldn't do him any favors.

Kirishima commended him on that because he just wasn't that brave or confident.

"Hi, everyone! Oh my gosh, there's so many of you! I feel so lucky and blessed! Oh, no, no. I've got a guest here with me tonight. Not going solo today," Midoriya said in a sweet, high voice that was several octaves above his normal speaking voice, answering one of the flurry of questions in the chat. He peered at the screen intently, smiling widely. "Thank you 'johnfromohio' for the tip! I'm so grateful. How was everyone's week? Wonderful, I hope. I know mine was."

Midoriya was lying, at least Kirishima assumed he was. The class had spent the week getting their asses handed to them during training as was evident by the various stages of bruising across his torso and backs. They extended beneath his support sleeves as well. At some point, Recovery Girl had started to refuse to heal him day after day, hoping to curve his reckless behavior, but it hadn't worked quite yet.

On screen. Midoriya spread his legs, giving the camera a healthy view of his dick straining against the white lace. "Oh, don't worry about the bruises, loves! They're all healing well, and I got them all in good fun." He winked, smiling enough so that his canines poked out over his bottom lip.

Midoriya -or rather, Snow Bunny- was the most popular cam omega on the internet. It seemed unlikely. There were hundreds of other bunny omegas that worked as cam omegas that could have been just as famous, but none of them looked like Midoriya. Where he was toned and muscular, his counterparts had the bodies typical of omegas. Thin and reedy and lacking all muscular definition. Soft where he was deceptively hard.

Not only that, but his dick was more akin to the size of an average betas rather than tiny like most male omegas were. His fangs were not those typical for his second gender either. Sharp and pointy though still small, could cause damage if given the opportunity.

If Midoriya didn't slick and go through heat, he would have been a beta. Or even an alpha. He exuded the presence and confidence of an alpha. A wolf in sheep's clothing, praying on unsuspecting and willing alphas. Satisfying omegas when he shouldn't be able to.

He was a conundrum that Kirishima avidly virtually partook in most nights, sometimes alone, sometimes with Mina, sometimes with the other guys.

Except for Bakugou who never stuck around long enough for a video to load. Kirishima wasn't sure if he even watched porn or had seen any of Midoriya's exploits. Let alone enjoyed his bed. Their relationship was better than it had been before, but they still got into arguments that ended with destruction of property. He wasn't sure what Bakugou did during his ruts, but he thought they must have been lonely.

Even now, Bakugou would have been settling down for the night. Either reading a book or something else to wind down before bed.

Just like Kirishima should have been doing. The day had been long and grueling, and tomorrow promised to be more of the same. Still, he wanted to watch the stream.

He blinked several times, trying to clear the tiredness from his eyes as Midoriya smiled into the camera and turned to show off a crystal white as snow nestled between his cheeks.

"I'm all ready to go, loves, but this is for someone else. I've got to introduce my guest for tonight." He moved aside to flip the blanket off two pale legs. A thin, long tail of coarse yellow fur flicked back and forth across the mattress. "I found this little kitten omega all alone in the rain today and thought I'd be nice enough to bring him home and play for a bit." He trailed his nails over bare thighs that trembled under his touch. The tail swept faster.

Kirishima huffed, grinning. Now he knew why Kaminari had blown him off for the night.

Midoriya continued talking, dipping his fingers between Kaminari's trembling thighs. They came away dripping, and he licked away the slick to a pitiful moan.

Kirishima's eyes were itchy and each time he blinked, it got harder to keep them open. He scrubbed at them, but to no relief.

Even as Midoriya lovingly flipped Kaminari onto his stomach and hiked up his hips, he felt himself dozing off. When he came to with a jolt, the screen of his computer was dark and the dorms were quieter than usual.

Scrambling to log back in, he groaned when he saw the time. 11:54 PM. He'd slept through the entire stream and then three hours after it. He was the only one left logged into the chat. He was about to turn off his computer for the night when the stream loaded again.

It hadn't been shut off like it normally was at the end of a live stream, and Midoriya's moans slipped from his speakers. The shot was only from the waist down, but everything important was visible.

Strong muscled legs were bent in half as long elegant fingers clutched at Midoriya's ass. The pair slowly rocked together, unhurried in their movements. His fluffy white tuft of a tail betrayed his frantic pleasure, twitching each time his partner pushed into him.

This new person certainly wasn't Kaminari, desperate and scrambling for his climax. If that wasn't the biggest indicator, the other red flag was the fluffy blond wolf's tail that curled around the back of Midoriya's trembling thigh. He lay on top of his new partner, the knee that was visible planted firmly in the mattress.

There wasn't a hair's breath between them, and Kirishima felt like he was violating Midoriya's privacy even as he slowly came to full attention in his boxers. He ignored his hard on, more interested in figuring out who was held so intimately beneath everyone's favorite omega. If Midoriya did one thing constantly, it was keep distance between him and his partners, even when having sex.

When the pair finally came, it was together and quiet with long moans of pleasure followed by the gentle sounds of kissing. They didn't part, just lying still with one another.

It was several long moments of Kirishima's heart splitting his store of blood between his face and groin before they finally spoke.

"Mm," Midoriya hummed, shifting on top, but not moving away, "If this dries, we're going to be stuck together forever." His voice was low and slow, barely a whisper. Kirishima only heard him because everything else was absolutely silent, as if the dorm was holding its breath in the face of their intimacy.

A deep chuckle joined his voice, and Kirishima startled. That laugh was all too familiar even distorted and drenched with sex.

"Too late. You're already stuck with me forever," his partner said, and that voice was all Bakugou.

Kirishima sat straight up in bed, catching his laptop before it could tumble off the side. If he hadn't been blushing before, he definitely was now. He was blushing so hard he could feel his pulse in his cheeks. "Bakugou?" he hissed incredulously, still staring at the screen.

"Why don't you ever ask me to be on your stream?" Bakugou asked. Just a question without the usual demand in his voice.

Midoriya hummed again. "I didn't think you would want to be. You don't watch my videos. I thought you'd be too worried about, you know, everything else. Also..." He trailed off, voice considering as he sat up and slowly lifted himself off Bakugou. Cum and slick trickled from Midoriya's entrance and down the inside of his thigh. They both hissed at the sensation of their uncoupling, and Kirishima flinched in sympathy.

They settled back together, Midoriya's back to the camera and Bakugou's leg hooked over his to pull them closer.

"Also?"

"Also, this is... just for me. They get everything else, but you... You're my beautiful, amazing alpha that I get to have all to myself. You're private. Just for me. I like it that way."

Bakugou hummed, the sound slowly becoming a purr. "Yeah, I like it that way too," he agreed gruffly, "When does your heat start? My rut is in a few days."

Midoriya laughed. "I don't know why you keep checking. We've been synced up since we presented."

As Kirishima watched, the number of people viewing ticked up from 1 to 5.

Before he knew what he was doing, he launched himself from his bed and to his door. Sprinting down the hall and stairs to the second floor, he listened closely as the pair made plans just in case they said anything too incriminating. Without knocking, he slammed into Midoriya's dim room lit only by the light from the laptop. He stood there for the briefest moment, confused about whose name to call. "B-Bunny!"

His own voice echoed back to him from his laptop a millisecond later.

"What?" Midoriya shouted in surprise.

Bakugou pulled him close and sat up, pulling a blanket over them. "What the fuck? You ever hear of knocking, asshole?" he shouted, rage and murder clear on his face, "Why do you have you computer? And why are you hard? Get the fuck out!"

"Your- Uh- The, uh, stream is still live. It never got cut," Kirishima stammered, face so hot he could have sworn he'd become another light source, "I was the only one still logged on, but it's filling back up again pretty quickly." The counter was already reached 300 viewers again.

Horror filled Midoriya's face, and he scrambled from Bakugou's hold, skirting around the view of the camera. Bakugou followed his lead, pressing himself back against the headboard as Midoriya shut the computer off from its power button. The whir of its fan slowly died away leaving only Kirishima's humming computer.

"Close the door, Kirishima, please. I, um, need to log on on your computer if you don't mind so I can see what kind of damage there is and properly shut everything down," Midoriya said calmly, but his hands were trembling and it was quickly spreading to the rest of his body.

"Sure thing," Kirishima blurted, turning his back as Bakugou stood from the bed and wrapped Midoriya in a blanket before turning him into his chest.

"I'm fine. I'm fine. I-I swear. I just can't believe I made that mistake. What if someone saw your face? What if I said your name?" Midoriya rambled, and a twinge of pain shot through Kirishima's chest at the worry in his voice, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Bakugou murmured. When Kirishima turned back to them, Bakugou had his arms wrapped around the omega, chin resting on the top of his curly green hair right between his ears. "So what if people saw? They just know that you're mine now. I'm the one who gets the truest version of you."

"But what if-"

"Stop with the what ifs, shitty Deku. Let's find out first if there's anything to be worried about." Bakugou jerked his head to the desk that had been moved earlier into the middle of the room, and Kirishima carefully moved Midoriya's laptop out of the way and set the camera stand off to the side facing the wall. After, he retreated to the far wall.

Midoriya, still bundled tightly in Bakugou's arms as they sat on the edge of his bed, went to work.

A lifetime passed as he combed through the comments from the stream and watched parts of the video before he finally sighed and slumped back against Bakugou's chest. Relief shone clear as a sunny day on his freckled face. "I don't think anyone saw us. And our faces didn't make it on screen, which is a miracle, but if anyone did see and knows our nicknames, well..."

Bakugou shrugged more calmly than Kirishima thought he was capable of. "Then the cat's out of the bag. We're almost graduated. I'm surprised they haven't figured it out yet, but then again, they are all dipshits."

"But-"

"Before you say something that's just going to piss me off, I don't care. We've been faking it for almost two years. I'm tired of having to sneak around and pretend like you're not my mate. So, fuck it. We were going to go public after graduation anyway."

If Kirishima felt like an intruder before, he felt like a proper interloper now as he watched Midoriya stare lovingly up at the alpha, nose twitching wildly as tears filled his eyes.

"Aw, fuck, Deku, don't start crying. You're going to kick start your heat early if you do. I don't think you want Shitty Hair seeing all of that."

Eyes widening and ears standing at attention, Midoriya spun towards Kirishima. "Sorry, Kiri! Thank you though. For letting me use your computer and warning us. I don't know what would have gotten out if you hadn't told us about the stream. I'm really, really grateful. I'll do anything to repay you."

Kirishima's face reddened again at the honest sincerity on Midoriya's face and the way his alpha paced restlessly in his chest. He waved his hands through the air wildly. "You don't have to thank me, I'm just glad everything's alright." He ducked his head in deference as he drew closer to the pair to gather up his computer and Bakugou's warning snarl filled the room. Backing away quickly, he smiled. "I'm going to go back to bed. I'll see you in the morning."

Making a break for the door, he just caught the moment when Bakugou buried his face in the crook of Midoriya's neck and his growl turned into a contented purr. Midoriya giggled as he closed the door.

The next morning without any help from Kirishima, the entire class knew that Bakugou and Midoriya were mates. They were discussing them over breakfast before the pair even appeared, those who had caught the last minutes of the stream speaking the loudest. When they came down, they ignored the others, but didn't pretend like everything was normal. They were completely drenched in each others pheromones and could, for the life of them it seemed, not keep their hands to themselves. Kirishima could of sworn that every time he looked at them, they were pressing close for another kiss.

Spurred on by his friends' show of affection, he nuzzled Mina's neck. She buried his hand in his hair, but continued with her conversation with Momo.

He wondered if the pair were putting on a show, but suspected that this was just how they had always acted behind closed doors. Their affection was as natural as breathing. They were two planets orbiting each other.

He wished that coming out had been on their own terms, but either way, he couldn't have been happier for them.

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yourultraarchive · 5 years

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Reply to @prurientpuddlejumper on this ask:

I’m sorry you’re frustrated or if I offended you somehow, but to be frank I don’t appreciate the tone you’re using here. However, to answer you anyway:

> they def meant the links to these alleged "online generators," because I am in the same boat as anon

First of all, unless you ARE that anon, I don’t think you can say they “def” meant anything, since they never came back to clarify, and I did try my best to answer them the first time, and I seemed to have helped since they didn’t come back to report any problems with my answer.

Second of all, “alleged”? That’s very rude. Just because you cannot see them on tumblr mobile, does not mean they do not exist. Plenty of other people have used them just fine, as evidenced by the many posts submitted to this blog. And as the last two people who’ve asked about mobile access before never came back with problems, I can only assume they simply went on the desktop site to use the generators instead of accusing me that it’s not accessible at all.

> post after post about how you updated the UI or whatnot with no link to the thing you updated

It was only two posts (so far anyway), and if you read them closely, you may have noticed I said I was only working on new updates, that they weren’t done, and that they aren’t out yet. And also that “the current generators are still up” so that people have a fully functional version of the generator to use, even if it’s not as pretty as the update is going to be. So no, there is no “link to the thing I updated”, because it’s not done yet. And as the point of the post was about the updates-to-come, I saw no need to promote a link to the generators that are currently available. Seeing as you want that though, I shall go correct those posts and link it, for your and future readers’ convenience.

I apologize for the misunderstanding, if I wasn’t clear enough about the updates being a work-in-progress. I was just trying to update my actual followers (of which I noticed that you are not one) that I was working on stuff, since this blog is usually pretty quiet.

> I REALLY wanna see it, and am growing increasingly frustrated about how much work you're pouring into this *thing* without giving mobile users any way to *access it*.

Again, I’m sorry this is frustrating to you, and you do bring up some legitimate feedback about the mobile accessibility. As I mentioned, I’ve answered at least two asks about this issue before, but since it’s been a few years and phones have definitely gotten more powerful I can look into developing a proper mobile version. But a lot of issues come up with making a mobile version, namely UI and responsive design (because I’d have to account for both vertical and horizontal orientation, and again I reiterate that UI design is hard), dynamic coding/image generation/data input/font importing and styling/etc., and how to save the actual generated image or at the very least the export/import save data for later use on a desktop browser. It takes a lot of work (more than most people realize, I imagine), so if you would like to help with that, let me know, otherwise you have no right to shame me for not making a mobile version, taking my time, or doing any of this.

As it is, you can actually still access the generator on mobile, just not tumblr mobile. You just have to go to a browser on your phone (there’s a reason my URL is so simple). However, as mentioned above, the template was not designed with mobile in mind, so all the fonts and effects and arrangement on the template itself just looks... not like it’s supposed to. Which, again, is part of the issue with the design, but at least you can access it on mobile, against your claims that you cannot.

Also, I mainly made this a desktop site because of how large the dimensions of the template are, in order to make sure the text is visible/legible even in the downsized preview image. Even when I view the template on my phone, I have to zoom in a lot, and with the current live version of the online generators, it would have made scrolling around to input data annoying. The PSDs, as well, would be inaccessible on mobile as far as I know (if Photoshop Mobile has improved enough to handle all the layers, masks, and effects, I’m unaware) so it was a conscious decision to make this whole thing desktop-only when I first started this blog several years ago.

> Even the "downloads" link you just shared just redirects back to this same page. Which is probably because you've hidden all the links away in "pages" which are completely invisible and inaccessible on the mobile app

It’s very much tumblr’s fault, and I really should have thought of that at first, but again, it was a conscious decision to make this a desktop site. Even if I made rebloggable/viewable posts with the links in them (which I plan to do soon, if only to satisfy mobile users like you), only the PSD download links would work (but again, not sure how well downloading PSDs work on mobile devices), as the tumblr app will still loop back to the blog, since the online generator is still one of those blog “pages”. And that is not changing for as long as I don’t have the time or money to host it on its own domain.

I can’t change the fact that tumblr mobile doesn’t automatically open blog pages in an external browser, so the only solution I can offer you is to take the extra step to copy the url and go into your mobile device’s actual internet browser, or just go to your browser and type in my URL manually.

If you actually couldn’t access the templates at all (which should not be an issue if you “REALLY wanna see it” given that not only did I offer you explanations and solutions for the tumblr app problem, but also that it IS accessible on desktop and you reasonably could have just gone on a computer) or had any other problem with them, I have made no stranger of myself and have always been open to help people. They have been polite or nice when they do talk to me, and I’ve always tried to be cordial in return. Your feedback is legitimate, and I appreciate it, but you really could have worded your implied suggestion a little better. And to be quite honest, I was offended by the rudeness of your reply, especially when you called my hard work a “*thing*”. Those asterisks imply a very negative tone, in case you weren’t aware.

I get the impression that you think that your demand will be fulfilled right away if you make enough fuss about it, but I’m not going to be manipulated or guilt-tripped because you feel bad. Maybe you don’t mean it that way, but you can “grow increasingly frustrated” all you want, because not only am I working on this for free, on my free time, and by myself, but I am also not doing this for you. You’re right that I am pouring a lot of work into this, as much work as any fan artist or fanfiction writer will put into their own works, and I’m very proud of it (both as it is now and what it will be in the future) and I have fun working on it, but this is not my job. And you’re not paying for a service.

I’m not working for anyone, and I have no reason to have made more than I originally did--originally I only made the student template PSDs for some friends, and the generator (which seems to be my most popular template, even though my original focus was on the PSDs) only came about because one of my friends didn’t have Photoshop. And I wasn’t even going to release either of them to the public, but I did, and the villain ones came over a year later because of this blog and the people who follow it. No one asked for a user interface update (in fact, more people have asked for a pro hero template), but I’m doing it anyway because I can and I want to. That’s all this boils down to. Also my free time (if you hadn’t noticed, everything on my blog runs on a queue, and when I do queue stuff it’s usually like 3am or so--including right now... it’s currently 5am actually) and motivation (I’m well aware of how few people actually use the templates compared to how many people follow and reblog the posts, and honestly it’s a little discouraging). So if I do make a mobile version, be aware that it won’t be coming out for a very long time. (Also, I think you’re the only one in several years who has complained about it, and you are literally 1 in... what, 3000+ people? Judging by the number of notes on the original post I made when I started the blog and my current number of followers. And again, you’re not even one of them. So to be honest, I’m really not motivated to work on this quickly.)

If you want it faster? Being nice when you show your interest helps, it’s how I got encouraged to make the villain templates. Though I never asked for much other than patience. Or at the very least, the respect any fandom content creator deserves--I may not be cranking out fanart daily or new chapters of a fanfiction weekly or anything, but I am still providing the fandom with something they can enjoy at no cost. And like reviews on fics or comments on art, many people have expressed that they’re grateful the templates and generators exist at all, unlike you, which is really the reason this blog continues to exist and the generators/templates to be updated with new and improved features. I could have just left my original template generator up there and abandoned it, but I know how it feels to find out a fanart you loved years ago was deleted or a really good fanfic was discontinued. So I’ll continue to work on it, and yes I’ll put mobile compatibility for the generators on my to-do list, but I’ll do it at my own pace.

Also I’m not making money off of this, but hey, if you wanna give me incentive that way, hop into my DMs or something and we’ll talk, but I’ve never asked for donations or anything and I don’t plan to. The generators and templates are free for use, and most of that is because of tumblr, which gave it a platform and a home. If I hosted it on its own domain, I’d need a means to pay for that, and I’m personally not invested enough to do that when tumblr is free and works well enough.

If you or anyone else wants to help change that, come talk to me, the ask box is always open.

Otherwise, please visit this blog page on a desktop browser or at the very least something that isn’t just the tumblr mobile app, because nothing can be done about mobile compatibility right now, and I’d hate for you to miss out on seeing the templates. Hopefully I can look forward to whatever you will create with it.

-archivist

#archivist #prurientpuddlejumper #replies #long post #blog management stuff #kinda

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catsblob · 6 years

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i made my first basics post on nov 23 2016 and current me doesnt even know that innocent bitch anymore.. though she made some points

i won’t be repeating myself from before unless it’s to clear up somethin so here we go class

there’s no simple way to this. this relies on so many things such as post quality, interaction, active posting, and personality. if u got a shit personality, u’ll only be in this town for a month or so before getting kicked out in some way.

make friends. yes, it’s easier said than done, but u gotta. reply to people’s posts, send asks, ask for collabs, make jokes, etc. etc. it helps to hang out w people who have similar aesthetics or interests as you! ur just gonna publicly clown yourself if u just hang out w people who have 0 commonalities w u...

also posts? POST. preferably only sims-related stuff. many people, including me, avoid blogs that are mixture of irrelevant fandoms or are super personal. make a sideblog or a twitter to put that stuff in. yeah, its fine to post some personal updates here and there but... have mercy

this ties in with your posts getting attention. everyone starts off rough and getting lucky with a single like or even a reblog. it may take some people longer to get through, but you’ll make it if you try hard enough. don’t get easily disheartened!

this is just a reality check everyone needs entering this community, just about ANY community. at some point, you’ll most likely get some form of anon hate in your inbox or on simsecret. don’t take it seriously. laugh it off. make some jokes about it. clown them. key point is that there is a difference between a criticism and just plain rudeness.

within the past year, tumblr has done goofed up bad and has an automated system that flags posts that they believe is “sensitive content”. 99% of the time it isn’t so you gotta appeal it. sometimes, if you’re lucky, it’ll show an appeal button for you on the posts. if not, you can follow this method to appeal. if that doesn’t work, well, might as well just repost it.

most of the things that trigger the system are warmer tones (thinking its skin). i haven’t really noticed what else triggers it but i don’t even think tumblr staff knows that.

there’s been an uprising of patreon creators, esp in the ts4 community, and many use this as a way to earn some money for their work. may it be early releases (most popular), exclusive cc (which you shouldn’t do. it’s shitty), wips, benefits, etc. etc. it’s basically a fancier version of a donation box.

a lot of patreon creators do exclusive cc which is quite frustrating, esp for people who 1. do not have extra cash to spend on two files of cc 2. are literal children and can’t pay.

support who you want and know who you are supporting. don’t waste your money.

i’m answering this as someone who creates for ts4. download sims4studio and blender (3d program - covers just about everything for ts4). you won’t really need anything else (besides, of course, photo editing programs) until you go on the deep end of 3d meshing. watch youtube videos. read tutorials (and resource tags). go wild with what you wanna do. figure out which area you wanna go ham in. poses, recolors, retextures, new meshes, building, decorating, etc.

if you’ve been following me for the past couple of months, you know the general jist of this. legally, according to ea’s TOS, anyone is allowed to do whatever with someone’s UGC (cc) even without notifying them. this is when it gets a little crazy.

simblr has the reputation of having rigorous TOUs where you cannot edit at all (or you can with special permission). understandable, it’s just a respect of each others’ rules. people then go to the next step to copyright their cc, which isn’t truly legally correct. i’m no lawyer, but once you put your shit into the .package format (dedicated format for sims content [EA ownership]) then it’s a free for all.

here on tumblr, people can submit DMCAs and take down your posts and give you strikes to your account (three [uncontested] strikes and you’re out within an 18-month period). for example, marigold (sims4marigold) sent me 2 DMCAs over 3 of my posts that recolored/retextured their cc. with my cc respectfully going along their TOU (reminder: this is all just a respect thing), I submitted a counter claim through support (follow the steps it shows > if it doesn’t show, choose the “other” option) and explained how the DMCA was false.

you will then go through a ridiculous process that will take months. you will need to submit personal information to properly submit a counter, so be wary of that. after that is processed and you agree to all the terms, you will go through a 10-business day process of waiting to see if the DMCA sender rebuts it. typically, such as in my case, they did not so my content was restored after the wait.

if you were truly falsely DMCA’d, this will be a tedious process and annoying, but it’s worth it. contest to all of them and remove those strikes so your account is not terminated permanently.

and that bout does it! those were the tips i could think of that would benefit newbies in the community and hopefully helped anyone else who was a little confused by certain things. if you have any further questions, please go right ahead and ask!

#simblr #simblr tips #there are prob grammar mistakes in here but it should b fine enough to read iosgnsioedsfd #feel free to reblog!

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amiafairyprincessyet · 5 years

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Alright... Don’t say I didn’t warn you...

Here it is: the exhaustively detailed breakdown of my 1920s costume/outfit for the interactive theatre event I went to! I’m posting this 60% because I can’t shut up about historical fashion, 30% because it’ll be fun to re-read years down the line, and 10% because hey maybe you’ll find it interesting.

Let’s start with how I built the outfit and started to form the character for it!

The two most important pieces for this outfit were the dress and the hat, and I can’t quite remember now which one I bought first. It looks like both purchases hit my bank account on the same day, so that doesn’t clear things up. I think maybe it was the hat?

Alright, so let’s start with the hat. Now, see, I love the 1920s but they really don’t love me back. The main problem I have is with the popular silhouettes of the clothes, but I also have a serious issue with the hats--I’m allergic to wool. Cloches are the stereotypical 1920s hat and almost ALL of them are made of wool. I can’t do it! But, sometimes, you can find ones made of straw. I’ve been meaning to buy a cloche for ages (tbh it’s ironic I didn’t do it until I had long hair) so I’d been planning to buy a straw one. Now that I had an occasion, I was ready to make that leap! I searched for straw cloches on Etsy, found tons of cool ones, and then drastically reduced my options when I started paying attention to sizing. (My head is both literally and figuratively big and I have A Lot of hair.) I finally settled on this one from itbecomesyou.

I actually wasn’t planning on buying a dress specifically for the occasion--I have one or two things that I could fudge a little and it’d look okay. (Certainly better than, like, a cheap Halloween costume, which is what some people were wearing.) But I was right by the thrift store anyway, so I popped in and looked around. The green dress was almost the first thing I spotted, and I got my hopes up right away. I could tell that it would fit loosely and have a low waist on me, even if that’s not how it was intended to fit--it’s actually from eShakti so it was custom made to someone’s measurements! That person also clearly donated more than one dress, because there was another dress there in the exact same style made of chambray--I’m wearing it as I write the first part of this post, actually. For some reason, I think the chambray one is a little smaller, but that’s not relevant.

The dress definitely isn’t perfect--I think it’s kind of obvious that the waist is elastic, and it’s still way too defined. The skirt is also a bit short. (Skirts in the ‘20s weren’t as short as popular culture would have us believe!!!) I figured it was supposed to be the late ‘20s (specifically ‘27) and the skirts got to the shortest point around then, so the length was forgivable. But the waist? Iffy. Like... with the full skirt it’s ALMOST got a bit of a robe de style silhouette going on but it’s not really all the way there, either. It’s a very confused dress. (Or it’s really just meant to be a more fitted style for someone a size up from me. Whatever, I like loose clothes and I’ve already worn it a bunch of times!)

When I was initially planning, I was originally going to put my hair in a low updo rather than a faux bob. That would actually be period-accurate--a lot of women who didn’t want to cut their hair did it! They’d often do a lot of work to keep their length while faking or imitating the look and shape of a bob. So I figured that with my long hair and my not-quite-boxy-enough dress I would just be unfashionable and poor, newly arrived to the city. Especially because this is clearly more of a day dress than an evening gown. My hypothetical character wouldn’t have the means to buy a dress just for going out in the evenings, and she’d maybe come straight from work (as a secretary, since that’s my actual job and I wanted to keep it simple) without changing.

As for the rest of my clothes... Well, between the hat and the dress I could see I was going in an earth-toned direction, so this was the only cardigan I had that would work. I have NO IDEA if it’s period-accurate or not. The scarf wasn’t really planned, but I thought I needed something with a bit of pizzazz, or else even my dowdy and plain “poor, rural secretary” outfit would be too boring. My compression stockings are obviously a) medical gear that I kinda just have to work around, and b) not at all accurate. Pretty sure in the ‘20s they still wore thigh-highs (sort of) that you had to hold up with straps. My shoes are okay, they’re character shoes from a musical I was in, so they’ve got a much thicker heel than most modern heels do. The shape of the heel isn’t quite right but like... I don’t think anyone’s looking THAT closely. (Okay, maybe I am.)

As for hair and makeup, well, my makeup isn’t as dramatic as you might think it should be for the ‘20s. Like I said in the makeup post, I shared that misconception too, up until pretty recently. Most of the standard misconceptions of 1920s fashion I already knew about, because I am. a nerd. But I thought that the makeup was pretty heavy! I re-watched Karolina Żebrowska’s video on the ‘20s and actually paid attention when she talked about the makeup this time. I was kinda relieved when she said that the makeup was much lighter than you’d think, because this outfit would look pretty weird with heavy makeup, since it’s a casual/unfashionable day look. I didn’t do any particular research other than glancing quickly at the examples of “normal” makeup that she showed because I was being lazy. Also, don’t come for my eyebrows. I like them and I refuse to do anything to make them look super-thin.

On to the hair, which is probably the most complicated and most important part! Like I said, I was originally planning to just do a low updo instead of a faux bob. However, when I got the hat and tried it on, I realized that a low updo wouldn’t work with where the hat sat on my head/how it fit me. A faux bob would also mess with the fit, but my hope was that it would be a bit better. I didn’t practice at all before the day of the event, I just kinda decided that It Would Definitely Work. So here’s how I did it:

Pincurl hair the night before

Wear hair down in pincurls the next morning

Humidity deflates curls within an hour, wear hair in improvised updo for rest of day

Try to redo pincurls in the afternoon

Oh shit it’s humid they’re still wet

I don’t own a hair dryer

OH WELL

Take top section of hair, sticking fingers in and parting so that you’re separating out the section in front of the ears

Go up to top of head in inverted V shape, so that a lot of the hair at the back of your head is not in the chunk you’re holding (how much depends on how thick your hair is)

Clip that chunk up; look ridiculous

Braid the hair that’s down--my hair is super thick so it made five braids

You want a LOT of your hair to be in these braids

Pin braids flat to the back of your head--similar to what you do to fit hair under a wig cap

Let down clipped up hair

Sigh over the fact that it’s barely wavy at this point

Make sure side part looks clean

Take back-most chunk of loose hair and grab a decent section, maybe an inch wide?

Grasp one small subsection of the hair in that section

Tease all the hair of the section--you don’t need to go overboard

The one piece you held onto should still be longer and straighter than the rest

Curl that bit around your finger a bit and then pin it up under the braids right at the back

Repeat for all but the two front-most sections of hair on either side of your part

Don’t tease these, just try to make the waves look nice with some subtle pinning and then pin the bottoms up

Oh shit you don’t own hairspray better hope this stays

Shove hat on top, DO NOT take it off for the rest of the night

I had a hilarious conversation about my hair with one of the actors, who was in character as a ~mystical flapper~. It went something like this:

me: Yes, I know it’s all the fashion these days to bob your hair, but I just couldn’t bear to cut it! Really my hair is this [gestures to top of chest] long, but I’ve got it pinned up.

actor, in character as someone in an era where “toxic orange” is not really a feasible hair color: That’s your real hair!?

me, with no hesitation: I’m Irish.

actor:

me:

me: That’s... orange. It’s orange. That’s why.

actor: :O

I then rolled with my ~brilliant improv~ and introduced myself as Bridget Kelley for the rest of the night. To be fair, I am almost certainly related to someone with that exact name.

The other bit of characterization I came up with (which I never really got to do much with) is that Bridget was a serial killer? I have no idea why I decided this, but I actually chose it a couple days ahead of time. I think I just had Chicago on the brain, since it’s set in the ‘20s. I also made her socially awkward but kind of the opposite from me where she was intense/focused/non-fidgety/interested one-on-one and shy as hell in crowds. I’m generally a fan of crowds as long as no one tries to socialize with me, because I can just hang out anonymously. I like being one-on-one or in small groups with people I like, but with random strangers I absolutely hate it.

And that’s basically it! I had a lot of fun at the event and I was really lucky and caught a ride home with an acquaintance I didn’t even know was going to be there. We got “raided by the police” at one point, and I also spent a decent chunk of time in the corner sewing. Good times!

#blog business

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deputysaint · 6 years

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for @prophesyr because i keep thinking about this post and also i love you

officer deacon is not a good cop, of that he is well aware. he’s too nice to suspects, and although he’s popular among the women of rome because of his characteristic politeness, he is still a cop that probably shouldn’t be a cop. he’s just too... gentle for rome city police force, too soft around the edges and easily manipulated.

which is probably how he ends up as a glorified security guard being sent down to the old slaughterhouse to supervise the situation going down there, the conflict between the new church and the more devote religious folk of the city, and make sure the verbal abuse doesn’t turn into something more... physical.

the last thing the city needed was the hotshot lawyer suing their department, his captain had told him, go make sure this stays peaceful, saint.

only, when he’d shown up, joseph had smiled at him with too kind eyes and shook his head at the offer of assistance, insisting that they could handle it, that there would be no blood shed on this day, in this house, and that everything would be fine.

still, deacon had stayed, hovered in the the back of the warehouse with his arms crossed over his chest, watching joseph talk to both people of his church, and people who’d heard about him before. within ten minutes, deacon knew joseph would be going places. he was a strong speaker, empathetic and kind to all who sat in his makeshift church. he did not isolate or shame those who had problems, who committed all kinds of sins in the name of selfish desire. he was... compelling in a way those paid-for ministers were on the television, only his faith appeared real, and he shook off any and all mentions of donations.

ten minutes in is when shit starts to show signs of hitting the fan. a woman in the front stands up, calls him a blasphemer. deacon moves to remove her when she shows no signs of shutting up, but is frozen in his tracks when joseph holds up a hand to him, and then motions for the woman to continue. another stands up, this one a man, and there’s hate in his voice when he throws a bible verse at joseph, something that deacon doesn’t quite catch, but knows is being misused.

within a minute, there are five people standing, five interlopers in joseph’s makeshift church, each of them telling him the same thing, but in different ways. he is wrong, he is a sinner, god will strike him down for spewing lies about his word. hellfire will reign upon him and his flock for showing acceptance of those who lived in sin.

deacon catches the word faggot and his jaw clenches, eyes burning. a rare show of temper has him moving before he realizes it, but it’s a low tone that catches over the microphone that has him stopping in his tracks.

“your god ain’t shit.” there’s rage in that georgian accent, thick and heavy rage, that has all sounds in the room stopping. everyone freezes.

the ugliest of snorts escapes deacon then, unbidden and surprised.

the room explodes in shouting.

turns out the protesters are more afraid of jacob seed than they are of deacon, as it takes them both to remove the unwanted guests from joseph’s flock. but they go peacefully, leaving threats of hellfire in their wake, but as joseph had told him in the beginning of the day, no blood was spilled, and the sermon moved on.

deacon radios in with dispatch, relays the names of the protesters he knew from around, gives vague descriptions of the rest, and tells them that the seeds didn’t want to press trespassing charges. it’s what they want to hear, and dispatch relays a good job from his boss that has him smiling faintly.

someone knocks on the window of his patrol car, and deacon is unsurprised to find joseph there. he looks tired, like speaking takes it out of him, and there’s bruises under his eyes from deacon can only assume to be stress. but there’s a softness there. and deacon knows why people flock to him like moths to a flame.

deacon rolls down the window. “father joseph?”

“officer saint, i just wanted to thank you for today. jacob could have handled it, but it was nice to have the law on his side.” there’s an unspoken for once there that deacon picks up on, but does not question. it’s never been his place to question the friction between certain individuals and the law, only to see if he can smooth it before it becomes troublesome.

“it was no problem. you have any more issues, you call me, okay?” deacon fumbles for a card, but finds it and hands it over to the other man, who takes it with a small smile.

“thank you.”

officer deacon saint never gets called down to the slaughterhouse again, but he hears rumors of joseph having issues with the law, and then him and his flock leave rome.

years later, deputy deacon saint walks into joseph’s church, in the middle of hope county, montana. and nothing is the same.

#unfiled. ( tbt )

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littleredroseonthevalley · 6 years

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Our Lady of the Incarnation

Or, Positive Sum

Summary: Summoned to Ledford Park under false pretenses, Edmund Marlcaster is offered a trade he might be unable to deny.

Rating: K - Content suitable for most ages. Intended for general audience 5 years and older. Free of any coarse language, violence, and adult themes.

Words: 2160

Notes: Hello, people of the XXI century. How do you do? A few clarifications, I do not know whether intraracial marriages were in fact abolished in Paraguay under de Francia’s dictatorship (c. 1810 - c. 1836), but I do know that it is a popular folk tale, and I also know that Paraguayans are amongst the most miscigenated populations in South America.

Regardless, I hope you enjoy it!

“And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing.”

~ 1 Corinthians 13:2

Edmund Marlcaster rode silently through the dark of the night, the only light being the one from the full moon above him and the only noise was the sound of roofs hitting against the pebbles on the road.

He took a leisure pace, his carriage had suffered an accident on his way to Grovershire a few days ago, and his ribs still felt sore. In fact, if the destination was not so close and the tone of the request was not so urgent, he might had declined.

“Mr Marlcaster,” Theresa had said, on occasion of his father’s wake. “I understand you might not be at your best condition, given all that happened to you those last few days, but my father is becoming impatient about our wedding.”

“Miss Sutton, do you not realize I am burying my father or you simply does not care?!” He asked, on an uncharacteristic harsh tone. She usually tires him, but his response is always cool disinterest.

She, in turn, sighs. “I know, Mr Marlcaster, and I understand. However, it took all of my persuasion to keep him from coming here himself to hand you a demand. If you could only… talk to him, explain that during your closed mourning, it would not be proper for your family to hold a marriage celebration…”

He had to concede that the woman had a point. It was so rare he had to take note of it.

“I cannot travel long distance.” He responded. “I am still unwell from my accident.”

“I understand. That is why I had required of Mr Sinclaire the use of Ledford Park for an evening next week. I am sure I can convince my father to come, and it is not so far as in to be extenuating for you.” She said, and turning into pleading eyes, she continues, “Please, Mr Marlcaster. It is of utmost importance.”

How could he decline such a simple request from his fiancée? To meet her at Ledford Park for an evening. The young man may not care much for Miss Sutton, but he had to admit she was a dotting, loving woman; he owed her at least some deference.

So, he complied. He had the groom saddle him a stable ride and departed through the three-mile road that separated Edgewater from Ledford Park.

Upon arrival, he notes there were three footmen waiting for him at the entrance, what was most unusual. Edmund may not have had many an opportunity to interact with Mr Sinclaire, but he never appeared to be one for such gestures of grandeur.

It must be Miss Sutton’s idea, he dismissed quietly.

As two footmen care for his horse, the third asks to be followed, as his master awaits for him at the study.

When he reaches the room, and the footman disappears, is that he notices it was all a carefully engineered set-up. There were three people inside that room, and neither one of them was Mr Sinclaire or Mr Sutton.

“Good evening, Edmund.” His stepsister greets, smiling wickedly from the chair behind the bureau. “Nice of you to join us.”

“Miss Sutton, what is the meaning of this?!” He barks at his fiancée. “Where is your father?”

The young woman glared in response. “Mind your tongue, Mr Marlcaster! Believe me, I wanted to do much worse. You ought to thank your sister for that deceiving you is the least I am due.”

“Edmund, please.” Miss Daly tries to reason with him, from the right-arm side of her mistress. “Just listen to what Susan has to say. I promise you, it is not something bad.”

What was particularly striking about Briar is that she was not wearing her uniform, but she also did not seemed to be wearing anything a servant might on their holy days. No, instead she wore a royal blue dress, highly embroidered and decorated.

It was so fancy that, if not for the perfect measurements on her figure, she would have swore it was a loan or a donation from Lady Susan.

“It seems it is you I have to blame for this whole spectacle.” He glares, furious, at the natural daughter of his stepfather. “Very well, then. What is that so important that you have to tell me, Miss Beauchamp?”

She smiles like a lioness closing on her prey. “Edmund, please. We are supposed to be family. You can call me Susan.”

“Miss Beauchamp, please.” He growled.

“Very well, as you wish.” She smirked, stood up and walked around the Bureau, in a pensive fashion. “Tell me, Edmund, do you know where the Parana River is located?”

He huffed. “No, and I do not see how that relates to anything.”

“I am getting there, I am getting there.” She smirked and then pointed a map hung on the side of the study. “It is in southern America, between the old colonies of Portugal and Spain, up the estuary of Rio de la Plata.”

Susan walks around the bureau once more and sits back on the chair. “Say, Edmund, would you not mind to take a seat? This would be much easier on both of us.”

As if on cue, and perhaps exactly like that, Miss Daly sat on one of the chairs in front of Susan, while Miss Sutton retained her sneering post on the left corner of the study.

Feeling the tiredness of his ribcage, he begrudgingly complied with a chair next to Briar.

“As I was saying, some nine hundred miles from the mouth of Rio de la Plata, up the Parana River, lays a small village named Encarnación, at the Intendancy of Paraguay. Lovely place, I am told.” She smirked once again, probably out of her own inner joke. “A few years back, I have you hear, their ruler decided to outlaw marriages between any two locally-born Whites. Their men often marry Indians. Isn’t this so very curious?”

“Very.” He grunts. “Again, what does any of this have to do with any of us being here?”

“You see, Edmund, my mother and I were not completely destitute, she could amass some savings out of a lifetime of work. That, coupled with a generous loan from Mr Sinclaire, was just enough to buy a sizeable chunk of land, just outside Encarnación.”

“I see. Are you sailing to the New World, then?” He questions, a tone of hope on his voice.

“Not really.” She responds. “You see, I never hated you. If anything, I pitied you. A mother who did not care for you, a stepfather who would take more to a daughter he never seen before than the son he raised from age five. The only person who loved you, and whom you loved in return, was dead and buried.

“Furthermore, you have no tact for business or administration. You were positively lost with the legers at Edgewater under the watchful eye of the Earl, now that you are alone, you would absolutely wreck the books. And if you did think I would not notice your infatuation with my maid, you are more naïve than I thought.”

Briar chooses that moment to interlock her fingers on his and to smile kindly at him.

“Given our situation regarding the Earl’s last will, and your mother’s delusions, I am here to offer you a way out, so to speak.” She opens a drawer and fetches a few papers. “There is a ship that sails from Liverpool in a fortnight, headed towards Buenos Aires. From there, it is a three-day journey upstream to Encarnación.”

“Susan wants you to leave.” Theresa blurts out, and, under the intense glare of the aforementioned woman, retracts with a, “Pardon me.”

“While I would not put it in quite those terms, yes.” A pause for effect. “I do believe it is mutually beneficial for you to immigrate to Paraguay.”

He looks at the woman dispassionately and then chuckles loudly. “Are you insane, woman?”

“Edmund, please.” Briar holds his hand tightly. “Think carefully. More than once you complained to me your unwillingness to inherit Edgewater. Lady Susan is offering you a way to back off from it, and still have a comfortable lifestyle.”

“Yes, but in Paraguay.” He stresses the word, as if it is poisonous. “How can I trust that this is not a plot to take me away from the country long enough to usurp Edgewater from under me?”

For the disdain for the land, Briar takes her hand away, as if terribly hurt. Edmund notices it, but does not understand why.

“Well, Edmund, I chose Paraguay because it was the most suitable place for you and Miss Daly to live together as a lawfully-wedded couple. There would be no man to bat an eye to it there, of this, I am certain. In here, though…” She trails off.

“The British are harsh with those of different skin colours, and even more so of those who collude with them. If you doubt me, I can have Mr Harper to come here and attest to it. However, if you so desire, I am sure we can find something here in England to your tastes.”

Such a statement made the grinds on his mind to swirl. Edmund did not think about the complications arising from Briar’s skin tone. He was still stuck on those related to her position as a maid and his status as an engaged man.

Furthermore, while he did feel a great deal more strongly about Briar than he did for Miss Sutton, or any other woman, for that matter, he was still unsure about whether he wishes to actually marry her.

“As for whether you can trust me, I am willing to make a concession. The current owner of the estate I am proposing is a business associate of mine, a Frenchman who lived in Paraguay for many years.” She continues, off-handedly. “He has agreed to guide you through your journey from Buenos Aires, to show you the estate. You need only to sign your claim to Edgewater to me if it is all to your liking.”

“What about my mother?” He asks. Wretched or not, he still had a duty towards the woman.

Susan shrugs. “I do not care what you do with her. Leave her here, send for her after you settle, take her with you in the ship. Just be certain she will have no home with me.”

It was to be expected, he considered, seeing how strained is the relationship between his mother, his step-grandmother and his stepsister.

Despite Susan’s assurances, however, he was still very insecure about it all.

“That being said, the ship goes off in fourteen days. While my offer leaves with it, I am sure you can afford a few days to think about it, dear brother of mine.” Susan says, detecting the doubt on his features. “The farmstead is not attached to a marriage to Miss Daly, as well, though I believe it to be in good taste, considering your night-time activities.”

“Very well.” Edmund breathes out. “I will consider your offer.”

The brunette nods. “It is all correct. Miss Daly will be awaiting for you with your tickets and the name of my associate at Ranelagh Place in Liverpool. You needn’t to speak to me about it any further, but I am willing to respond to any further doubts you have. Miss Daly shall relate to me whether you made the deadline or not.

“There is one thing I ask of you, and it is of utmost importance. Do not speak to your mother about my offer. I am trusting you, but I do not trust Henrietta.” Susan glares at the mention of the name. “If I know you consulted with her, I will be interpreting it as a refusal of my generosity.”

“Sure, seems reasonable.” He agreed.

“The major domo shall show you out.” The woman points to the door and he left with no further words.

Later that night, when Briar and Theresa had already left for Liverpool, Susan sat alone at the study with the master of the house.

“Do you think Mr Marlcaster will take it?” Ernest comments, thoughtful. “The deal, I mean.”

Susan hums her affirmative. “I suppose he will. He desires a fight for Edgewater just about as much as I do. He knows he has no talent for administering an estate of such nature, and he has been blessed with the lack of desire for it as well. The Paraguayan farm I offer him is much more manageable.”

The esquire smiles. “In any case, it was generous of you to offer.”

“Eh.” She shrugs. “I know how much value Edgewater holds, monetary and emotionally-wise. If a few hundred pounds and the loss of a handmaid is enough to keep it, then I say it was mighty cheap.”

Taglist: @catlady0911; @choicesyouplayandmore; @cocomaxley; @enviouslylove; @hellospunkiebrewster; @mrsernestsinclaire; @shelivesinthewoods; @tornbetween2loves

#desire & decorum #edmund marlcaster #theresa sutton #briar daly #ernest sinclaire #luke harper #henrietta of edgewater

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lightsandlostbells · 6 years

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Skam France episode 9 (S1 finale) reaction

Thanks to everyone who reads these things! I’ve gotten a lot of nice messages and comments since I started blathering my thoughts on Skam remakes into the void, which I didn’t expect, and it makes my day. Even if you don’t agree with me on something, I appreciate hearing your thoughts. I love talking about sad teens and their drama and it has been a grand time talking about sad teens and their drama with others!

Also thank you to everyone who translates or helps increase accessibility to any of the Skam shows, I am truly amazed by the kindness and generosity of everyone who donates their free time to it.

Episode 9

Clip 1 - Daphne peed on the wrong stick

Nice job getting in that shot of the condoms and water bottle at the beginning as if to say “I fucking told you so.”

There were apparently several real time errors in this clip in that French students should not have been at school that day, and Daphne mentions having gum at 10 am when the clip dropped at 8 a.m.

This doctor does not quite have the same quality of being from another planet as Dr. Skrulle.

Alex screaming to the heavens about no baby is glorious, but on the other hand, GIRL, you might wanna lower the volume about your friend’s pregnancy scare as people are clearly hearing you.

I love Daphne and think she did a really great job here of being bitter and resigned. I think Vilde was also great in this moment, but I think she was approaching it more from an outwardly (phony) sense of self-assurance. You don’t know want what you’re talking about Noora, I do. And though Vilde is pretty stunned by the doctor’s visit (and tbh I think part of her wanted the baby to be real … but that’s another conversation) you can see her starting to laugh and smile with the other girls before Noora pulls her aside. Then it feels more like cheerful denial that there’s anything wrong with what she’s doing. Daphne seems straight up miserable and defeated.

Clip 2 - Charles creeping again

MY BELOVED THEATER KIDS RETURN. One day they will get their day in the sun. One day.

TBH Charles has more sleazy charm than William and I can’t determine whether that’ll end up being a good thing or a bad thing.

This clip is WAY better placed than the original, actually! It always seemed off that Noora would be taken in by William telling her she’s beautiful when she still thinks he’s knocked up Vilde. Now that they’ve determined this isn’t the case, it makes slightly more sense. At least that consideration is out of the way.

The only drawback about having the doctor clip before this clip is that it occurs to me that Noora’s conversation with Vilde is likely what prompts Noora tell William to apologize, since Vilde has internalized his words so much to the point of repeating them, and I find it harder to believe that Manon would give a single shit about Charles’ flattery after she’s heard how bad his words made it for Daphne.

Lmao at fucking Charles being like “What are you doing here?” and Manon being like “I go to school here, dipshit”*

* (100% accurate translation)

Wait, this is the same song for the Emma/Yann scene. Is this going to be a Skam France love theme? Will French Even sing it to Lucas?

My favorite thing Emma has done all season was the ensuing text conversation after this clip where she just replies to everything Manon says with “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.”

Clip 3- Emma and Lucas on the steps

The setup of this scene satisfies one of my burning questions, in that I always wondered what the vibe was between Eva and Isak as they walked over the the bench (awkward) and here Lucas joins Emma on the steps so I don’t have to wonder about their weird small talk or painful silence.

This is the first time where I bought Lucas’ acting. He’s still not exactly wowing me, but I thought he was fine here. Maybe he just needs that very large scarf to hide in to make him seem all vulnerable.

“You smoked at the cabin?” Emma, didn’t you literally see them smoking??

Wait, Tom was supposed to be Ingrid‘s brother? That’s what it sounds like, because why else would Yann contact Ingrid if he couldn’t get through to Tom, if Tom is just some unrelated dude who has weed? I thought her brother was some other guy because Elias was not Norwegian Ingrid‘s brother. Surely Emma would know Tom as a result of being Ingrid‘s best friend for years, but I don’t think either of them said anything about that, unless I missed it or can’t remember it. At the cabin I didn’t get the vibe they were anything more than acquaintances via Yann. And if Tom is Ingrid’s brother, then doesn’t it make more sense that Emma would hear Ingrid in the background on the phone, and it wouldn’t automatically be a cause for suspicion? It’s not weird for Yann to hang out with Tom.

I think Tom isn’t supposed to be Ingrid’s brother, but this line of dialogue is confusing, considering they changed it from Yann not being able to reach Ingrid’s brother to not being able to reach Tom. It doesn’t make sense to get Ingrid to get in touch with Tom; the chain should go Tom -> Ingrid’s brother (who also has weed) -> Ingrid.

They changed a bit from where Isak owned up to being shady when Eva asked him about hearing Ingrid‘s voice over the phone, he implied that he kind of suspected it wasn’t anything serious and figured it had to do with the drugs, and he acknowledges that he could’ve told Eva this, and he gave her bad advice to ask Ingrid about it. Lucas says he swears he didn’t know, which is kind of funny because IMO, Lucas seems way sneakier and more plotting in that scene than Isak did.

I do appreciate changes to the material but since they’re keeping most of it the same, I wish that they left in the line about karma being a bitch and Emma understanding how Ingrid would’ve felt, because I think that was a thematically relevant line.

Aw, it was sweet to see how Yann smiled and seemed so happy when Emma called. It’s a shame I like him so much more away from this relationship. He seems so pumped for their meeting. I think Yann is a little needier than Jonas and it affects their relationship positive and negative ways, like I think maybe he’s a little more attentive than Jonas, but he also seems to get more threatened by potential obstacles to their the relationship.

Clip 4 - The Emma/Yann breakup

Yann is so sweet and charming here, like I get why Emma fell for him.

So the final bit of this clip worked pretty well for me!

I said in another post that the three scenes they needed to nail were the skate park, Ingrid in the bathroom, and breakup scene, and while I didn’t think this was as powerful (mostly because the season-long buildup didn’t make it feel as earned) I still thought this was a strong scene, definitely the strongest of those three.

I loved the sweet moment of Yann holding Emma on the steps and them smiling sweetly at each other, and that was an aesthetically appealing, tastefully done semi-sex scene, especially the shot with their hands. Although I did find myself wondering if they sat on the steps and then smiled at each other like “let’s go have breakup sex” or if they banged it out, put their clothes back on, and cuddled outside. TRUE TO THE ORIGINAL in that regard.

More Seinabo Sey songs, love her.

Clip 5 - Ending party

The Emma/Yann hug is really sweet and makes me think the breakup is going to be less fraught, more amiable. which, IDK, it kinda feels like it should be more fraught considering these two are supposed to be very much in love? But it also makes me buy them airing season 2 so soon after S1’s finale, if Yann and Emma are going to be on more friendly terms.

Also the general atmosphere of the scene is more lighthearted. The music too, not as much of a serious tone.

Lucas was all right acting-wise in this scene, too.

INGRID AND EMMA NEED TO HOOK UP. I can’t say I shipped it in OG Skam but here … they should get together.

Ingrid, Sara and Imane dancing together is great.

Also Ingrid is there when Daphne tells Imane and Alex about Charles, awwww.

I love Daphne. I know I’ve said that a million times but she’s the MVP of Skam France.

The shot of Lucas with Yann definitely did not have that immediate SO THAT’S WHY HE DID IT effect. Yo, Skam France, remember how some of us were like “You’re telegraphing Lucas’ crush on Yann too hard?” Well if ever there was a time to project that shit from an IMAX, THIS WAS THE MOMENT.

Forreal, Lucas is paying about as much attention to Yann as to the other dude standing next to them. Where is that OTT longing gaze?

You’re holding a drink, dude, you could give us a dose of innuendo by slurping on that straw while you make eyes at your bro.

But then again, I guess no moment can be as OTT as when you have “Gay Bar” as your musical accompaniment.

There is a major continuity error in the scene because the other guy that is in the scene with Lucas and Yann can be seen behind Manon immediately in the next shot, so either he has a twin who dresses exactly the same or he teleported.

As much as I love Isak’s love of BUTT as the final moment, closing the season on Manon and Charles is a perfectly logical choice for leading into S2. Although lol, the lyrics being like “I’m just waiting for my day to come” are very creepy, Charles. “Cause something inside has changed” is better, though.

General comments:

They should’ve ended this season with the girl squad’s party, dude. Doesn’t that seem like a fitting finale? If the object is to gain popularity at school, shouldn’t they do it as soon as possible so they gain some capital before the popular senior guys leave?

One benefit about airing the next season right after S1 instead of taking a few months is that I can at least buy that they could have the party at the end of season 2. The longer they draw it out, the less it makes sense.

Lucas was definitely panicking and trying to be overly nice in that text to Emma post-Camille’s party. Emma was keeping it cool and Lucas was like I HOPE ALL IS WELL AHAHA WE’RE SO FRIENDLY :D :D :D oh god don’t tell Yann

Right now, I don’t have many thoughts about the season as a whole that I haven’t said before. Emma’s character arc is somewhat muddled, certain plot developments and characterization don’t make sense, the show overuses music, the girl squad dynamic is one of the show’s better qualities, marry me Daphne, marry me Ingrid, etc etc.

My main takeaway is that, out of the three remakes that have aired so far, Skam France definitely has less of a personal identity than Druck or Skam Italia. Even with those shows being early into their first seasons, I can already tell they’re more distinct adaptations with more done to fit their respective cultures. That’s not to say either of those versions are perfect or that Skam France doesn’t have its own strengths, but I would very much like to see Skam France develop more of a unique personality. Not sure if they can do that until S3 since they’ve already filmed S2 and can’t incorporate viewer feedback. It depends on how much it is going to reflect original Skam’s S2; judging by the trailer, it feels like the answer is A Lot.

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