#being from the north makes charlie so great

[simptasia]

why didn't charlie call claire "luv". why didn't he throw out a casual luv at his friends. he's a northerner what else is he good for

[precious-little-scoundrel]

Fort Dix to Memphis

Summary: Having traveled for 24 hours, hopped two continents and crossed an ocean, little baby Rosalee has no more patience for the endless homecoming interviews and pageantry required of her Daddy’s precious time, time that should be her’s in this strange, loud, American new world. What’s a new father to do when his baby “Schnucki” won’t stop wailing when he leaves her? Why, do the interviews with her in his coat, of course!

Warnings: Fluffy and wholesome as can be, PG, only small upsets may include a woman nursing, a father helping a baby latch while nursing, colonel parker not minding his business and trying to shove Elaine out of the public eye, Journalists being passive aggressive, little children in some distress

Word count: 4k

Requested: yes

Masterlist

Circa: Early Spring, 1960

“I don’t think she’ll settle without nursing.” Elaine really tried to keep the emphaticism out of her voice as she reclined into the rather luxurious bed the sleeper car was furnished with, watching as Elvis paced in the tiny walk between the window and bed, cradling a fussing Rosalee, lights turned down to nearly nothing and her baby cheek pressed to his just like she liked it. She wouldn’t fully go under though, and Elvis was certain she suspected his motive of making her sleep to then slip out and speak to the journalists waiting outside, while Elaine surmised it was an empty belly keeping the sweet dreams away.

Dark Cherry wood paneling and padded headboards that made it easy to lean against and nurse, low lighting that made it feel like something out of the old Hollywood movies, the train car was coziness personified -and of course Elaine had her exhausted children all in a tidy row between her and the vibrating train wall. All but Rosalee.

Colonel Parker had balked at the expense of such a luxury car, an en-suite bathroom, two beds making an L in the room and a little sitting room adjacent through a door, perfect for press and visitors -and play space- on the long trip. Elvis thought it was perfect for his family, and that’s where he and his manager differed. Colonel Parker had been very eager and very full of plans upon meeting the freshly stateside Presley’s. He’d come aboard the plane as soon as it touched down at Fort Dix and stressed the importance of Elvis going off solo.

“Colonel, I’ve got four children outta the womb, and my wife’s only got two hands.” Elvis had pointed out the obvious and that logic had won over the Snow Job’s dream of reintroducing a rehabilitated and unencumbered Memphis Flash back to the American public.

Colonel Parker then had some ideas about various ways to ship Elaine back to the backwater by cattlecar while Elvis did press in the north -alright he didn’t put it like that but it was the essence of his intent, according to Elaine’s shrewd perception, so much so even her father, Mr. Phipps had balked in offense at the obvious intention of shoving Elaine and her growing belly away from public view.

If Elvis Presley wanted to be so besotted with her that he’d give her five children in less than four years, he could damn well walk down a jetway with her. A sentiment her Mopey agreed with, of course he did.

And before much more fuss could be made, Charlie Hodge and good ole Rex Harrison had spent their newly demobilized time procuring the best train car on the line, and they spent a great deal of Elvis’ money to incentivize that train car to go to Memphis instead of Baltimore.

Those were the sorts of logistics, haggling and arrangements that Elaine usually took great interest and responsibility for negotiating, but freshly arrived from a transatlantic flight, three press conferences deep, decently pregnant and toting four children and a jumpy husband, she found herself ceding such tactical responsibilities for the seemingly endless amount of breast-feeding and lullaby singing her jet-lagged infants needed.

To be honest she was exhausted. As was Elvis. And their children. So much traveling and so much interacting and never a quiet moment. If one pair of twins was down the other roused and neither parent had gotten a full hour of uninterrupted sleep in two days. But still, Elaine felt happy with the warmth finally soaking into her as she snuggled beneath down covers with three little heaters tucked beside her, Daisy Mae dozing at her breast.

And she got to watch Elvis pace and coo and take the responsibility of soothing Rosalee very seriously, he always did.

“C’mon Schnucki, daddy ain’t goin’ nowhere far, hims right here, you jus’ lay your pretty lil head down and close those pretty yittle eyes, alright? You just close them eyes and picture a pretty green lawn with lil blankets on it and wildflowers we can pick and I’ll even get you little lambs to jump around and -that’s home Schnuki, we’re gonna be home tomorrow baby. I know, I know s’been so long for daddy too, hims could cry to, I could, I swear I could but it’s happier to think ‘bout bein’ there soon, and if you close your yittle eyes and dream bout them pretty clover flowers, you’ll get there even sooner. Did ya know that, Schnucki? Sleep makes ya time travel, it does, honest, baby. It does. So you just close those lil eyes-“

His low, murmuring babble was so soothing Elaine felt her arm holding Daisy go limp and she nodded off for a breed second before a resumption of Rosalee’s pitiful fussing jarred her again.

“Elvis baby, let’s try nursing.” she whispered gently, snagging his blazer hem on one of his turns along the little path he’d made and keeping him close.

He pulled Rosalee off his shoulder and held her little onesie clad form at arms length, surveying his inconsolable little one. “I dunno, ya look pretty fat Rosy, but I reckon there’s always room for more, hmm? Hmm baby? You wanna snuggle with mama’s titties, hmm? Get you all nice and warm and full of milk.” he stepped closer to the bed and Elaine scooted aside, with some fear of crushing her other children, to give him room to sit beside her, “C’mon Schnucki, go to mama, baby girl, get your tummy full so those rumbly tumbly feelin’s don’t wake ya up.”

Elvis’ large hands laid his little bundle on the breast that Daisy had not just supped from and helped Elaine position Rosalee in the crook of her mama’s elbow. He helped straighten her legs and tipped her on her side and when she kept turning her little head to watch him instead of focusing on the task in hand, Elvis even fed her little mouth the nipple like feeding a dog a treat. He squished her cheeks closed and tugged at Elaine’s bud until the milk came out and at it sprayed on Rosalee’s palette the baby’s eyes finally lit up.

“There we go,” Elvis laughed quietly, “don’t know what’s good for ya yet. Shouldn't doubt me Schnucki, I knows what’s best for hers, yes I do, and I always wants what’s best and I know, I know that look, good ain’t it? S’warm and sweet and so soft for your cheek, mhmm, nothin’ to fight.” he crouched over her for a minute as she latched and vigorously began to suck, much to Elaine’s relief, and he ran his fingers across her poofy baby cheek.

Elvis and Elaine watched her, too tired to make conversation or wish to break the hypnotically cozy spell Elvis’ cajoling nursery talk had lulled them all into. Jesse stretched in his sleep beside Elaine and cracked open an eye, smiling a silly, happy, lax mouthed smile at seeing his daddy still there. Elvis laid his hand on his boy’s chest and the the little guy turned on his side, rolling his body around it for a moment before falling back to sleep.

“God, y'all look so cozy, could break my heart.” Elvis mumbled as he took his hand back from Jesse’s lax hold, his other still supporting Rosalee’s bum as the baby girl would unlatch and search frantically for him whenever his touch left.

“You could stay.” Elaine pointed out the obvious, reaching her hand to swoop up the glorious flip of hair he had grown out. In the dim light, and even the bright sunshine, now that he’d grown out his army cut, it was more obvious than ever where Rosalee got her chestnut locks. “Don’t have to do press tonight.” she thumbed at his under eyes, marveling how a man could look so beautiful and so exhausted all at once.

“Naw naw, they’re waiting.” he jerked his head back at the sitting room and the low hum of the waiting reporter’s voices through the door, “If I do it tonight, won’t have to do it tomorrow and with any luck they’ll hop off on some northerly station and we’ll have a spot of peace ‘fore Memphis.”

“Alright.” she murmured, holding very still as Rosalee had come unlatched, cheek squished to Elaine’s large breast and her breath coming out in steady little puffs. “Do you think she’s gone?” she asked the man who knew her best after a bit of study.

“I-I think, I think so.” he hesitated, peering at her pink eyelids and the lax set of her mouth.

“She’s gone very limp.” Elaine remarked.

“Here I’ll try takin’ my hand back a-and if that works I’ll wait a minute and get up.” he suggested, slowly pulling his hand away from his infant's body with all the slow precision of a man dismantling a bomb.

Both hands clutched to his chest, Elvis and Elaine watched to see if baby so much as twitched but 48 hours of traveling seemed to catch up with their Rosalee and she didn’t move a muscle. Elvis carefully snagged a pillow and brought it under Elaine’s arm now she was holding all the weight and she carefully snuggled into a position she could maintain without moving for however long the press conference took.

“You alright mamas?” he asked her as he gravely reviewed his precautions for her comfort.

“I’m perfect.” she whispered, pursing her lips and he leaned over her gently, pressing his forehead to her mouth as he knew she wanted. “Oh I’ve stained you.” she lamented, the faded remnants of her lipstick having transferred to his golden face.

He snickered softly and rose from the bed with as little motion as he could, using those strong thighs of his to leverage straight up without a bounce and when he was successful in not waking the Schnucki Monster he went into the en-suite bathroom and reviewed the pale kiss mark above his brow. It was barely noticeable and rather affectingly situated, like a pretty stamp above his more mobile eyebrow.

As Elvis stared at it his heart twisted with a burning loyalty for the woman in bed with his five children while the Colonel’s words ricocheted in his mind until he found himself emphatically redoing his lashes with more than a moderate coat of mascara and after a moment's hesitation, he opened Elaine’s matching toilette bag and took from it today’s shade of coral. Unscrewing the gold cap he pondered it for a moment before leaning into the mirror and gently dabbing it onto the places where her kiss mark failed to make an outline. He was cautious not to overdo it, pulling back to review his entire face and take in the effect.

He had no desire to make her favor look garish, but neither did he want it unnoticed. He looked rather like one of last war’s recruiting posters, white smile, long hair, fresh face with a big smooch printed thereon.

He knew all these press conferences weren’t just about his career. They were according to his manager but for Elvis, he knew he was coming back to a rather different place than he left, social change and an upcoming election had galvanized folks into a sorta mood Elvis hadn’t had the chance to gauge for himself. And in it he wanted to find his footing again, not just as a star but as somebody who could do good. And he couldn’t do nothing without Laney, whatever Parker said, and poor Laney had suffered enough, been put through the American press for her pretty figure and affectionate ways.

And for daring to love him so well.

It wasn’t just his image. It was hers too, that he was re-introducing, and as such he was introducing the parents of his children, going out there to talk about movies was only the side issue, he had the Presley reputation to establish. Tired as he was, Elvis didn’t feel daunted by it, he felt energized and revved up at the prospect of such momentous responsibilities and he snapped the lid on Laney’s lipstick with an emphatic snap of his thumb.

Elvis liked the ‘loved on’ look. He’d never pretended he didn’t with his fan’s love and he wouldn’t with his wife’s.

He exited the bathroom and upon seeing Elaine as dead asleep sitting up in bed as the rest of the babies, he tiptoed out of the cozy space and cracked open the door, squeezing out and shutting it gently, much to the amusement and chuckling cooperation of the reporters waiting outside.

“Whole crew’s sleepin’ in there, gotta stay quiet, man. How’re y’all doing?” he asked them, basking in the colder air that whistled through the cracked window and took his seat on one of the benches, splitting a smile as a camera flash whited out his vision.

It had been near twenty minutes when Elaine was roused from the dead and dreamless sleep she’d fallen into by the shift of Rosalee’s sweaty little head on her chest. She increased the calming pressure of her hand on the little girl’s back and held very still, hoping it was a gesture in sleep. It wasn’t. Soon after she began to root around and whimper, upon waking up enough to notice soft feminine flesh beneath her cheek she began to fully cry, endangering the rest of the others. Elaine promptly untangled herself and stood up, walking away from the others, pacing by the door, trying to hush her poor infant.

“-besides those three films lined up I-I-I really d-don’t have plans, no, I-I-“ Elvis paused in his answer as the sound of crying came from the inner room. He knew which baby it was and his heart clenched.

“Oops!” one of the reporters snickered, a sympathetic father who knew how annoying it could be to have a baby crying all night, keeping a guy up and the wife not able to make it hush.

“I-I uh…” Elvis tried to go on but the cries increased and while it wouldn’t disturb the journalists or even be perceptible on the recordings, he couldn’t bear it. “If you’ll excuse me, gentleman.” he apologized as he rose, determined and unabashed as he crossed across the train car and wove through the pack of reporters back to the suite door.

“Oh darling I’m sorry.” Laney gushed as he slipped in and cast a wary glance at the stirring children left in the bed.

“Don’t be.” he told her sharply and didn’t even ask for the baby, just took her out of Elaine’s arms with surety and sushed her with his familiar hums. “Ain’t no reason to be apart, we’ll just buddy up for this, huh Schnucki?” he murmured and Elaine’s eyes went wide.

“You’re going to do press with -a child?” It wasn’t an image anyone in Hollywood or even politics really tried to create, the family man leading man wasn’t really a seller at the box office or in the gossip column. Not unless he had affairs and regularly got redeemed by famous children, she supposed the Fairbanks might yet prove role models.

“I’m gonna hold my baby while they ask me questions.” he framed it with a pointed look and placed a kiss of his own on Elaine's forehead, “Now I can’t keep ‘em waiting. Go get warm, go, move that cute lil butt, go, shoo!” he swatted her nighty clad backside until she had the covers up to her chin again and Ella tucked into her side. It wasn’t till he had turned back and headed out the door that Elaine gasped in recognition of the kiss mark.

The chattering greetings of the journalists upon his re-emergence quieted as soon as they noticed the bundle in his arms as he stepped back through their ranks to his seat. Sitting with all the nonchalant confidence of a king as he tucked his pacified child into the crook of his elbow and patted her bottom rhythmically with a bejeweled hand. Those who had once lingered around him on tour, chasing him down backstage to snatch sound bites and headliner quotes over the scream of women and the edgy young performers' preoccupation with kissing and winking at every passing female were astounded by the change.

Bob Gary, one of the reporters who had covered his stardom since the hayride and had the pleasure of meeting Miss Gladys, god rest her, was a little less astounded than others that her wild boy had in him the makings of a lovely young man. Bob always thought Elvis was respectful and always got a sense of goodness when around Elvis. It made sense Elvis would set his mind to good fatherhood and perform its functions with as little shame as he felt when moving to his music. “Now who do we have here?” Bob asked kindly after the quiet room got a little too absurd even by journalistic standards.

“We’ve got a pretty little lady joining us, gentleman, this is Rosalee Presley, prefers to be called Schnuki but maybe not by you strange men. Heh.” Elvis proclaimed his sniveling baby’s chosen name proudly and jostled her mopey self a little, only succeeding in making her pout further into his jacket but the tears had ceased. “All this travelin’ has been doin’ their heads in, man, my poor babies. So, you mustn’t mistake her whinin’ as personality, ya see she’s been a very stable baby, hasn’t ever been outside Germany, ‘cept for a trip to Paris, and now she’s across the whole ocean. That’s a heap of miles for a yittle itty-bitty thang like her, you understand gentleman? So as I was sayin’, my lil daughter’s most congenial, most nights, gonna have to forgive her tonight*

Bob Gary laughed as did a few of the press who were equally lost on the topic but eager to return to their questions. “Why can’t her mother calm her?” one fellow asked benignly and Elvis squinted at him, jaw tickling before he smoothed his face and shrugged:

“My wife’s jugglin’ four kids in there, includin’ the one cookin and she does a remarkable job.'' Perhaps Elvis said it sharper than he meant to, but Bob Gary licked his pencil stub and got to writing, paper didn’t convey tone unless the writer mentioned it. “A-a-and see, me and my Rosalee,” the young father went on, “we’re the same, two peas in a pod. I’m the same when she ain’t around, get all mopey and the like. I do man, I do. Got my own lil wooby here, uhuh. What? Oh ha! Sure sure, call it that. Emotional crutch, whatever man I-I-I -all I know is I-I need her, man. What? You ain’t ever wanted to hang out with your kid? They’re a heap of fun man, don’t talk over ya neither.”

“Can we see her face, Elvis?” Asked one hopeful with his camera at the ready.

Elvis thoughtfully prodded Rosalee’s pink cheek but the little girl was always shy of crowds, worse yet when they were masculine ones and despite Elvis’ little pokes his baby only burrowed deeper, as if aware of his query and answering it with a wriggle that buried her face beneath his jacket’s lapel.

“Aww man, I think she’s too shy for that.” Elvis decided, carefully tucking her further in, her chubby little legs, two dangling feet and the back of her reddish head the only visible parts of her. “Now I don’t want y’all thinkin’ this is her usual personality, -all the travellin’s been rough on her.”

“I bet it’s hard on all the kids.”

“I-i-it’s challenging, sure.” Elvis nodded, running a soothing hand up her sweaty back, “But we’re headed home. Gonna be right as rain, soon as we get to Memphis, I just know it. Ya know these last two, they were born in Germany! Ain’t ever been home yet, they’re restless for it.”

That seemed a bit improbable for a bunch of city slickers who considered home to be a vague notion of rented flats and let rooms and so one asked:

“__Mr. Presley, you’ve quite the large family now, uh, how old is your daughter? Hard to keep up.“

“She’s not yet one.”

“—And your wife’s already expecting again, correct?“

“Yessir she is.” Elvis nodded soberly and he felt little Rosalee begin to forget her bashfulness and twist herself a little so she could play with the rings on his left hand.

“Does the growth of your family surprise you? It certainly surprised the rest of the nation. Do you have any regrets?“

Elvis thought about the adoring bundle in his arms who gave him all the terrifyingly unconditional trust he always wanted to be saddled with and stuttered out a reply after clearing his throat, “Well uh, no sir, not really. My wife she -she was on me like a duck on a junebug, sir, right away like. And uh, I saw it as my peace keepin’ duty to keep her peaceful, ya see? Heh. So, so anyways, we’ve got all these kids now and I find them mighty precious. They’re the most special things I’ve ever had. I-I- didn’t-what we had gentleman, when we married -it weren’t no great romance, see, it were rather like the reasons our parents married. Course I love her now but we’re intentional and this is what we wanted. She’s made what coulda been some of the darkest years of my life, well she -she’s made them the best. Awww yeah you too Schnucki, yesss, of course hers too.” he trailed off with a coo as Rosalee raised her face to watch him, learning by his tone that he was talking about mama.

“—What do you expect for your little family, what with you gone to work on the movie contracts Colonel Parker has lined up for you?“

“Oh well, they’re comin’ with me, ain’t no question of that. Whole family I-I-I gotta have ‘em. They’re not a favorite pillowcase you can leave behind. Colonel Parker says the trailer ain’t big enough but he forgets they’re lil still, we all fit in a single bed. Sleep that way most nights, they’re all yittle still. And I need ‘em. They’ll be with me.”

“What’s Miss Rosalee think about seeing palm trees, huh?” the same hopeful as before, this time with his damn camera lowered, took the liberty of grabbing at one of her little feet, intending to wag it playfully but Miss Rosalee let out a wounded cry of disbelief and climbed up her father’s chest with the alacrity of a hunted koala.

Elvis tried to moderate his voice when he cautioned the young journalist, “She don’t wanna be touched, man, please don’t.” but nothing could temper the cool blue flame of his eyes at the guy’s presumption. “Hey, hey hers ok, yes hers is.” he whispered to his baby and slowly brought her down into his lap, a curled little dough ball in a soft pink onesie. “Here Schnucki, curl in baby, have at it.”

He opened his jacket wide and exposed a soft sweater beneath his blazer, dark red and with a deep neckline, he’d bought it for the cowl neck he liked for shielding from the wintry gusts and hiding his chicken neck from photographers. Rosalee likes the way it warms her up and tickles her nose, she burrows her face into his chest so fast it’s comical and the guys laughed as did Elvis gently, all while he closed his blazer back around her little body and gathered up her one vulnerable outlier in his large hands - her little footsies.

“I dunno what y’all are laughin’ at.” Elvis pretended ignorance, crooked grin about ready to split his face, “There ain’t nothin’ here, man, nothin’!” he protested as the guys wheezed in amusement over the tiny, frizzy shock of chestnut hair sticking out the top of his buttoned coat. “Now’re you fools gonna ask me about formula brands or hollywood, hmm?”

The next thirty minutes passed uneventfully, for Rosalee at least. It was warm and damp in daddy’s jacket, against his chest and she could feel the thoughtful rumble of his answers buzzing her right cheek. When he was done she felt a little whoosh of flight as he stood up but she was safe, his arm kept her anchored to him and the buttons cocooning her near his chest held up. She had been oblivious to the nervous way her daddy sweated when he dodged answering about who he’d vote for in the coming election but she had felt when he had tensed at a question about her parents’ taped phone call. She raised a clammy hand out the top of his jacket and patted his jaw till he had laughed. The press laughed too. He never answered that question after all. Rosalee smiled a proud baby smile against his sweater.

All Miss Rosalee knew was daddy laughed and then he calmed and his chest rumbled some more then there was a whoosh and the jostling of him shaking hands and soon he was walking, she could feel the bounce of his gait. “We fooled them, didn’t we Schnucki.” she heard him whisper down into the jacket.

The soft click of the door. Mama was near.

And soon, Rosalee felt a chilly little gust as the inferno was opened and the faint lights of the bedroom suite crept in as daddy unbuttoned his jacket and gently laid her down next to mama on the bed before stripping out of his clothes. Mama lay on her side in the bed and deftly slipped the lacy strap of her nighty off her shoulder, gently cupping Rosalee’s head to her breast, hoping for cooperation.

Without preamble or hesitation the little girl latched on for her midnight snack.

Elvis was slipping in beside them, tucked in with Rosalee between himself and Elaine, when his pretty wife chuckled in disbelief.

“What is it baby?” he asked, whopped from all the diplomacy and melting like butter on pancakes at the mere proximity to his little tribe.

“You smart little lady,” Elaine murmursd to Rosalee in admiration, “you know your daddy isn’t leaving anymore and now you want to eat, huh?”

Elvis grinned with half his pretty face smashed into the pillow, trying in vain to stay awake to watch one of his favorite activities under the sun -his wife feeding his babies from her own body. His eyes began to droop anyway and he found himself jolting periodically, having drifted off.

The third time he awoke like this he felt Laney’s cool fingers gently tugging his eyelids down, smudging the mascara but soothing him, “Night, night mopey, you can go now, she’s gone, too.”

Hope y’all enjoyed! Your “bugging” and “screaming” is music to my ears, fuel to my fire and keeps me writing, please never hold back -this is a safe space for feral little Elvis loving rodents…like you and me.

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[ohanny]

stabby murder husbands kentakim au!

does this make much sense? no. is it going to be long? yes. am i sometimes very happy about what my mentally ill lil brain cooks up while i sleep? very much so.

tony chen is a rotten super villain in every universe but in this one kenta was his assassin until he finally had enough, turned on his master during the bloodiest night known in these circles, john wick style, and then disappeared off the face of the earth. was tony running the high table? how deep does the lore go? who knows. i was asleep. my brain did not have the capacity to figure it all out.

flash forward some years. kenta is living a normal life. he has a boring office job. he’s reconnected with babe, his estranged brother who ran away from home at the first sight of sketchy activities and was spared from all of tony’s bullshit. unfortunately for kenta, babe - happily married and pregnant - is channelling all his extra hormones and boredom into a mission to socialize his hermit crab of an older brother.

which is how kenta ends up eating dinner in babe and charlie’s warehouse loft of doom, sitting opposite of kim - a regular customer at the couple’s garage and a casual friend. it’s an awkward affair because a) kim can't stop staring b) babe keeps shooting these looks at kenta all “see, i brought you a hot ginger, do something with it” and c) kenta would much rather be at home. unsurprisingly, when kim offers him a ride home at the end of the evening, kenta says no.

this turns out to be a bad call because on his way home, kenta gets jumped. it happens sometimes - after all, he was tony’s weapon for over a decade and made a lot of enemies, no one can escape their past without occasionally being haunted by it. except this time when he limps out of the alleyway, clutching a minor stab wound on his side, there is a car idling by the pavement.

it's kim, rolling down the window and telling kenta to get his ass in. against his better judgment kenta does.

kim speeds off the scene of the crime with the kind of ease and confidence kenta has only ever seen from babe. it quickly becomes apparent that he knows way more about kenta than he should because he starts asking about cameras and when kenta just stares blankly - bleeding all over the nice upholstery - kim laughs and says “don’t worry, even if you got a bit rusty and missed one, i know a guy. or two. since they live with me you'll meet them soon anyway.”

and fuck, kenta should have just trusted his instincts instead of chalking kim making him nervous up to having someone so pretty pay any level of attention to him. he finally finds his voice (and lowkey also his knife) and demands to know who the hell kim is or if he's even called that. “oh i am,” kim answers gleefully, “and you could say i’m a… freelancer.” which, great. just amazing. kenta is being kidnapped by some amateur bounty hunter and his day officially couldn't get any worse.

… but it does. because once they reach their destination, the second he's ushered into an apartment he's greeted by an obnoxiously loud scream of “holy shit, he actually did it!” followed by a slightly less obnoxiously loud “our kimmy here is a big fan!” and then “oh fuck he’s bleeding all over the place, get the med kit dumbass!” and kenta realizes he wasn't kidnapped by some amateur bounty hunter. he was kidnapped by a fucking fan boy. on the bright side they do seem to be capable of basic wound care so there's that.

(yes, the trio is living their best mercenary vigilante life. kenta’s purge of tony happened right as kim was getting into the game and he went full “holy fucking shit, this man took down tony fucking chen and got away with it?” and basically became obsessed with the legendary lore of john wick kenta. so imagine how pumped he was when babe of all people introduced him to his ultimate murder crush goals)

kim: obviously you'll need to stay the night since you're so injured. You can have my room. i’ll just sleep with north and sonic.

kenta: …

sonic: you have a problem with three men sleeping together?

kenta: … no?

north: great! but if you hypothetically did you could ask kim to share with you instead because trust me, he's like super interes -

kim: shut up or i’ll evict you.

north: pls, whose day job is paying the bills here since you only take on charity cases?

kim: my name is on the lease! and i'm being a good person!

sonic: honey, you kill people.

this is where i got with my dream sequence but other things that just make sense in this verse:

the first person kim ever killed was winner. he was a toxic college hook up who kim dumped after few gos but who wouldn't take no for an answer. kim could have dealt with him being a dick on campus but then he started harassing kim’s dorm mates, north and sonic and kim just… snapped.

it all came to head on an alley behind a trashy gay bar. winner tried to grab sonic and kim honestly just meant to beat the shit out of him but went too far. when they read the news the next day it's weird. none of them regret it. they’re happy about it. and when no one knocks on their door to ask any questions, they realize how easy it actually is to get rid of a bad person.

the second person kim kills is a campus dirtbag who likes slipping shit into girls’ drinks and taking them home. they plan it all together but kim goes out alone and after… he's a mess. winner was a crime of passion in the heat of the moment but this is something different. he's all keyed up. he can't settle down and paces around their living room. a man is dead and he thinks he got off clean but only time will tell. he's nervous and elated and half-hard and full of adrenaline and it's sonic who nudges north and goes “look at the poor thing, we should take care of him.”

the night ends with kim’s head on sonic’s lap, sonic’s fingers in his hair, telling him he did well and he's so good when he cries as he's getting fucked into the mattress by north. kim wakes up sandwiched between them, in a mess of limbs. he has a very brief freak out about what the happened - the sex, not the murder - but north shushes him, telling him it’s not a big deal. “we love you, hyungie” sonic shrugs and pecks his cheek. “you two get some more rest and i’ll bring breakfast, okay?” and that's that.

needless to say kenta is in for a culture shock with the northsonickim arrangement. like he's taking a shower with kim and things are getting good when sonic barges into the bathroom, yanks the shower curtain back and goes on a rant of “kim, you gotta tell north to do the laundry because it was his turn but he forgot and now my favorite pants still have cum stains on them!” and kenta is like “um, excuse us?” but kim just rolls his eyes and proceeds to yell for north and then has an entire damn conversation with his dick out while kenta just stands there all 🧍‍♂️. (after he's done chewing north out for the laundry, he turns to sonic like “and you! we talked about this! kenta is new, we don't want to spook him!”)

the whole murder thing will be another conflict. kenta is happily retired. he killed because that's what he was raised to do and he didn't have any other options until he did. kim though? kim kills because he wants to. kim kills because he believes certain people deserve to die.

kim: i have a date with a wife beater at 2am. wanna come?

kenta: stop calling them dates. and you shouldn't be so… flippant about it.

kim, smirking while pulling on his leather gloves: don't tell me you never enjoyed it.

while kenta’s kills were always obvious hits, done using knives and guns, kim likes to deliver justice personally. he warms up using his hands and finishes the job with whatever blunt object he can pick up.

one time kenta’s boring office job takes him out of town for business and kim is climbing the walls. he calls kenta all “please quit and just become a hit man again, the pay is better and you'd be home when i need you” and kenta sighs because yes, his job is boring but he's trying his best to be normal and he has a morning meeting. so he tells kim to go occupy himself with north and sonic

kim: wait.. What?

kenta: don't you guys have sex with each other all the time?

kim: we did, BEFORE i met you

kenta: … huh. well. go fuck or get fucked or whatever before you start hunting pedestrians for stress relief.

kim: is this a trap?

kenta: no? i would never mess with whatever the three of you have.

Kim barging into north and sonic’s room, growling at them to take their clothes off and sonic’s first reaction is “oh shit, they broke up” but then kim’s like “dick first, rings second, i’m going to wife that man so hard he won't know what hit him” and everyone cheers and no one feels bad about having a pre-engagement celebration threesome not involving one of the grooms.

also, pete? did he step up after tony’s death? does he run a business like the continental? is way his weird attic wife that fucked himself over in the business and now can't step a foot outside the hotel without getting his brains blown out the less fun way? in any case he would have an eye on both kenta (because their whole… brotherhood) and kim (because kim is a wild card and truly independent and neither follows nor knows the code).

[queersouthasian]

There are so many things yet to be talked about like when will I ever move on? (as if I am even trying to lol), anyways, I had a few realisations:

Remember when in ep3, Babe saw Charlie working outside his house and he whined about how Babe kept on changing passwords? The fact we never hear about door passwords after that and even Alan/North/Sonic walked into his house (we never see anyone walk in his house from his team before) most probably because Babe stopped putting passwords on his door because then Charlie can walk in anytime he wanted to. Even when he was mad at Charlie in ep4 and ep 7 (first half), he did not put any password on the door, we see Charlie directly walk in.

Alphas in general don't release pheromones, they do at certain situations, definitely during sex, and Charlie didn't. He smelled good, but the thing is, his smell was nothing like the strong scent of pheromones, and that's what stood out. In ep 2/3, Babe recognises Charlie by smell alone, if he was sleeping, he most probably didn't pay attention to his senses rather he immediately catches onto Charlie's scent. That's such a great metaphor of Charlie not technically "standing out" yet being the one who always stands out for Babe, just like his scent.

Charlie was a freelance editor, and if Jeff was an undergraduate, he technically didn't have a job, so Charlie technically was the one who was majorly financially supporting them.

Charlie has the habit of masking his pain with his smile, but can't do that infront of Babe. Babe would always catch on, ALWAYS. Also, Charlie almost cried/cried only once, and that too infront of Babe.

Babe would always make sure Charlie is at a safer place. He would always push him towards Alan or his found family, knowing they would keep him safe.

Charlie asked to be Babe's servant in ep1 but was genuinely taken aback that Babe would offer sex, he was not scared 'cause he had lack of sexual experience but because he knew he would take babe's senses, and that's why he hesitated to touch babe AND THAT'S WHY HE WAS TERRIFIED TO TELL BABE.

Babe forgiving Charlie was a very important moment. He never forgave way for his betrayal until death, not even his dad until the confrontation, but he knew Charlie didn't betray him. He immediately understood Charlie and forgave him because he knew his motives and genuineness. It's very important because it shattered Charlie's terror, his fear and insecurities.

Babe immediately knew it was dean who did something just 'cause he said "just because Charlie is dead, we have to all mourn for him?", you have to be completely heartless to not love Charlie and Babe knows that so Dean's lack of concern alerted him immediately.

[badnew2005]

dennis’ shirt in gets romantic . do you remember hoodiegate. blue and arguably stripey (simply because of how material works) a core emotional dennis motif. but these aren’t bold stripes. it’s The material that makes it seem stripey, all blended together, unending stripes, you can’t tell where one ends and another beings, it’s continuous, but still landscape. you don’t know where he is emotionally, and he doesn’t either. just come back from north dakota. pretending everything’s the same. knowing everything’s different. macs out. and he left. and came back. there are blue stripes.

then THE blue stripe dennis emotional shirt. big and bold. it’s got a different neckline than break up’s shirt but it’s essentially the same pattern. following the narrative of the episode. dennis is out (of the plan)… but he won’t leave. hearing mac set up dee and greg. the wink. confusion and then acceptance. “what do you mean the plan is in motion for me, i thought i was out” setting dennis up with lisa. maybe teddy was a platonic friend from highschool that makes greg jealous. maureen kicking mac out of their apartment after getting married to dennis. “so i’m still your leading man” the big stripes. big emotional arc. calling lisa “my roomie” when he has to flirt with her. drinking wine. helps when your sad. still got big blue stripes. you miss teddy and no one can replace him. macden coming home singing the boys are back in town. maureen couldn’t replace mac. i don’t love you maureen (looks at mac) i never loved you (maureen). blows hitting on lisa purposefully. if he really wanted to sleep with her “sex, banging” he wouldn’t have been that forward, knew it wouldn’t work. big blue stripes. i’m still your leading man. mac thinking that went great. i find you annoying this whole thing is annoying. i’m leaving (to mac’s room). you just have to trust the structure. Just Trust The Structure!!!

third and final dennis shirt. still blue. it’s checkered But the more prominent stripes are facing downward. a Change. the emotional blue stripes are still there but there’s new stripes, going in a different direction. horizontal stripes shown in closeted dennis moments. the macden story and frank and charlie’s stories mirroring eachother - as they once did in fights gay marriage/gets divorced. straight is gay. the stripes have changed. the whole worlds upside down and the emotional dennis stripes have twisted. stops trying to set dennis up with a woman and moving the focus to setting mac up with a man. it won’t play in middle america but we’ll jam it down their throats till they enjoy it. mac coming in and out of the closet like a yoyo. so you’ll help me. i will. emotionally charged macdennis moment. mac let’s go find you some romance. the stripes have changed. this cat is coming out of the wall. to get him out you introduce another cat and they get codependent then that second cat will come out and hopefully the first one will come out soon after. episode before gets romantic was mac finds his pride. Just Trust The Structure. the framing of dennis, with his horizontal and vertical stripes, standing behind mac (hoodiegate). if you just give us a chance, we could tell a love story for the ages (chuckles softly) (dennis is out of frame) a gay…. gay-ass love story. sunnys relationship with its audience and the media. greg i don’t know what you’re talking about … back to dennis. and his stripes. you can barely see the horizontal stripes. they’re mainly vertical. he’s changing. this is a turning point. it was me, it was always me. lisa’s here, focus on dennis. lisa as maureen lisa as mandy. he doesn’t want lisa here. now dennis and his stripes are out of frame again. moving away from the love story, teddy reveal, someone smarter than me could talk about father son relationships here. dennis isn’t over macs shoulder but we still go back to him. you can see the checkered shirt so clearly but the vertical stripes seem even more prominent up close. director glenn. trusting the structure. dennis shots isolated from macs “love story” until the reveal it wasn’t romantic. dennis ready with the speaker. that’s not romantic or comedic. i guess we’re not gonna get that romantic comedy ending after all. mac and dennis’ story mirroring charlie and franks’ Again. the stripes have changed. the cat is coming out of the wall. and i am trusting the structure

[befuddledcinnamonroll]

I'm so not ready for Pit Babe to be over. This is one thing I love about BL, it's never the shows I expect that grab such a hold of my heart.

Oh my heart.

The way Babe's hands were shaking as he touched Charlie to make sure he was real...*sob*

Also, can we please stop giving this man head wounds?

Way to understate it Babe.

"I'm not happy" = "I was utterly devastated and incapable of functioning without you"

There we go! Time for the Kenta flip.

Being distracted from the plot by how good these two look together:

Also, I just realized Way is in white for what I think is the first time? Look at our boy getting all lightened up by being with Pete.

There's something about ultimate sunshine boy North calling Tony a dickhead that I can't stop laughing about.

Holy shit! I mean, I'm not surprised Tony killed kids, I had assumed the ones he deemed useless were sold off for their organs or something, but this is so blatant.

On the other hand, knowing what we know about the ultra-wealthy...yeah, this tracks.

Although I have to laugh a bit that the first video people will see is Tony just shoving a kid, and then it moves right along to straight up murder. Bit of an escalation there.

Dude, this is on the internet. You are way past containment!

Uh, yeah, great plan - kidnap another millionaire and a famous racing personality, I'm sure you'll have no problem staying under the radar.

I am so not normal about how North always puts himself between Sonic and danger.

Show, if you don't let these boys kiss... *growl*

Kim! My sexy baby! Coming in clutch!

Lol, alright I give Winner a few points for audacity.

Dammit, I knew Way was gonna get shot.

Also, what is it with all of the villains lately who are pulling the "just do what I want, and you will get what you want" move? It didn't work for Jareth, it's not going to work for any of you!!

Omg, Kenta!!

I have to give so much credit to Garfield, he has been acting his ass off these last few episodes.

Um, can we now stop focusing on sad faces and get Way some medical help?

Equally annoyed that they're doing the death via redemption, and distracted by how pretty Nut is during his dying scene.

Oh shit, showing Alan like this is what got me.

Well, this is just rude!

Though the fact that the funeral setup is just like Charlie's makes it feel oddly like Way is now off faking his death somewhere.

Poor Pavel, the man must have been so dehydrated after filming all this.

AlanJeff are such a balm for the soul.

And that tattoo is so sexy.

Damn, the faces these two make. I am weak.

Yay, our baby is fully where he belongs! Have fun Kim, surrounded by a big group of lovable idiots who will need your constant help.

Ah yes, can't finish this show without one more locker room railing.

Also, love that they keep getting more and more specific that Babe is, in fact, the one "taking it", for all those people who cannot see past stereotype.

Sweet.

Noooo, don't end. I need more fluff.

Ok, we for sure need a special episode, people.

We need:

SonicNorth kisses

Pete & Kenta closure (can be romantic or platonic, either way)

Kim to get a boyfriend

A bunch more group cuteness and shenanigans with zero trauma

[breitzbachbea]

@fvriva Copying this out so I can do more stuff -

But yes! One of Charlie's many exes, only two of whom have ever received a name, is a guy called JJ! His full name is Jacob Johnson and I once posted some old pictures I had of him here .

They used to date when Charlie was pretty young and just out of school and were part of a bigger gaggle of gay guys. Guys who were just experimenting and finding themselves ... and who thought it'd be funny as fuck and their good right to fancy Charlie's father substitute Paddy. Charlie didn't find that shit funny at all, but kids can be so cruel. (I also bet like some were like "Ohhh, he's from the North and he's kinda badass, do you think he's an ex-Provo?" because these boys are pulling a Michelle from Derry Girls. And saying "He's a Prod from Derry" has zero effect, because then it's "Oh my god, that means he doesn't got all that repression! I bet he's a real Casanova!" at which point Charlie was ready to either eat the Abrakebabra tray himself or shove it down someone else's throat.)

However, Charlie's boyfriend JJ never participated in that tomfoolery. Because he was a clever young man, who knew if he kept it to himself, he could date Charlie, partially to get closer to that hunk of man. Enjoyed it very much whenever he was with Charlie and Co. and Paddy was around.

However, JJ overall didn't feel like Ireland was a great place to live and wanted more opportunities, so like many young Irishman, he went away to America. And before he left, he did the kind thing of breaking up with Charlie ... and also the not so kind thing of telling him the truth in regards to Paddy. Rough breakup.

JJ gets to America, things don't really turn out as they are ought to be and America has more or less just the same problems he wanted to escape, be it in a different costume. Poor JJ falls in with the Mob to get by and after seven or eight years, he is like "Hey. I am not gonna snitch on you, I am not gonna cause trouble, but I just wanna go home. Could you arrange something for me?"

And his boss, a young man called Alfred Jones, is like "Hmm, sure! I think I know someone you could work for, someone to keep eyes on you and who takes care for you in Dublin! Harry O'Connel's the name!"

And JJ does think. Hey, that's the name of Charlie's childhood friend. Even the surname is spelled that weird way ... But he shrugs it off, because maybe someone just left an L off the end and there have to be plenty of Harry O'Connell's in Ireland.

And Harry thinks the same when Al talks to him about an Irish guy called Jacob Johnson, like yeah yeah sure. Fork found in kitchen situation.

And then JJ arrives back in Dublin, goes to the office after some preliminary meetings with other subordinates or so, walks into Harry's office ... and Harry's face is not one that you forget. Not much has changed since puberty is through. And thusly Harry also learns that he has hired Charlie's ex as a new subordinate.

So poor JJ, comes home from his failed American Dream, learns that his ex's childhood friend is a mobster and THEN learns that the same holds true for said ex and has always been the case for the middle-aged guy he fancied.

JJ has learnt a lot about himself since he went away, especially about his priorities in life, so he now also realizes that Paddy was just some embarassing Teenage infatuation and nothing genuine at all. Not to mention that he may have a soft spot for Charlie still, but no old spark that is still alive. Charlie does make a bit of an ass of himself for wishing it was the case and being thoroughly disappointed when he gets mercilessly roasted by JJ and not even a little bit fancied. Sir, you are getting steady now, you don't NEED your ex-boyfriend for approval.

That's Jacob Johnson! Poor lad, deserved better :/

[officialbillhader]

There's something about Mac. Like that stupid movie from the '90s, except no one is chasing Mac, no one is lying to him, tricking him, finding him across the country and flying to him with blind hope. Not even Dennis, who isn't quite sure what he'd do if anyone else tried to get with Mac. But it doesn't matter, because no one but Dennis sees what he sees in Mac. There's something about Mac, but only for Dennis.

He remembers when they first met. When he overpaid for the blunt because he brought too much cash and didn't want to deal with the rest in his pocket, back when he was rich, when he didn't have an alimony payment and debt that wasn't his to begin with, a failing bar with his name listed in the paperwork. A failing bar with Mac, but he's off topic, because this is about Mac, and passing blunts around with him under the old football bleachers and talking late in the night about their fathers, inviting Charlie over every once in a while to watch him get high off glue, but Dennis's eyes were always on the pink of Mac's always dry lips.

He'd like to say it was hard to leave Mac for college, but it wasn't. It was a way for him to fulfill his long laid plans, and he had to make peace that he hadn't planned on seeing Mac ever again. But he did see him, because Mac would show up on weekends, crash in his frat room, smoke with the window wide open, chastise Dennis for smoking a cigarrete while he'd be chugging down a blunt. He's never made much sense like that, yet it's endearing. It's always been endearing. And stupid. So fucking stupid. College was the first time Mac watching Dennis fuck a chick, the only time he's gotten to see it in real life, but Dennis later found ways to conspicously watch Mac jerk off again at the same time he told him it's only what bros do.

There was one time they made out. New Year's Eve, both crossfaded, it just happened, and Dennis slipped out that he wishes they could always do this, and Mac looked at him dumbly and said nothing. Mac threw up the next morning, but Dennis never did. He invited Mac to watch him fuck three weekends after that.

There was no reason they needed to move in together except for haunting teenage dreams and before Dennis knew it Mac was cursing and saying he wouldn't be able to co-sign the lease because his credit score is fucked. Dennis's wasn't great, but it was better. Dennis made Mac sign a shitty handwritten contract that stated he would pay half the rent despite not being on the lease, and Mac signed it after some argument, but then Dennis never held him to it. He figured Mac made up for it in other ways, like sometimes making them burnt eggs for breakfast or restocking their beer supply or putting a blanket over Dennis when he passes out during movie night. It's something, at the very least.

And he never would have expected Mac to become gay, never would have expected him to admit it, but something shifted in him once Mac did. It was nothing, but it was the biggest experience of his life, and it wasn't even his expierence. There was just something about Mac. Something about their future. Something about a declaration of love and joy and fucking men instead of woman, which Mac quickly became no stranger too.

Leaving him for North Dakato was easy, until it wasn't. He soon realized that it wasn't college and Mac wasn't going to randomly show up every once in a while. It was real, adult, fatherly life. It was absolute hell. It was life about Mac without Mac.

He knows it hasn't been the same since. His abandonment left a permanent scar. Mac hasn't looked at him the same way since and the closest they got was during lockdown, was while royally fucking up the presidential election, but Dennis was oddly happy. He was singing with his best friend while they both had glimmers in their eye, and he never minded when Mac would steer their lyrics towards gay sex and Dennis would have to reel him back to more flowery things. It was all Mac's idea, everything they did during quarantine, but Dennis followed. He followed happily.

When he got Covid, he had fever dreams of Mac and the castle. Dreams he hasn't wanted to revisit since for good reason, dreams he hopes he forgets one day, if only so the unfettering ache in his chest will leave.

But there's always something about Mac. There's always something about Mac and their future. Dennis just isn't sure what.

[thecrossoverwriter15]

Hey guys! I’ve been working on ideas to write a film based off of the books, the Guardians of Childhood and wanted your input!

Now, I’m against writing a sequel to the first movie only because I feel like Rise didn’t set up enough to write a sequel that people would go to see. It didn’t really show the growth of the Guardians as a team. In other words, the movie felt like it started halfway through their story, like there should have been a movie before setting up everything in Rise. Not to mention the fact that the movie isn’t very huge with audiences minus us and Jelsa fans, it would be hard to really get us involved with the characters stories UNLESS it was just redone. If Dreamworks started at the beginning of the Guardians’ journey, it would have made the death of Pitch in the finale of Rise feel much more impactful. Set up and payoff - that’s what a story needs. You know, it’s actually a good thing that the books aren’t as popular because then there’s a chance to bring these characters into the movie world with a BANG. Plus, there are fans of Rise Of The Guardians who would get excited over a sequel or ANYTHING involving the team!

So, that brings me here! l’ve come up with some ideas, but overall, I want the basics the be:

• The look of the universe, the world building itself and characters will look and feel as they did in the books, with their respective powers and traits. (Yup, I’m looking at you Nightlight!) I will also add little easter eggs to make Rise fans happy!

• 2D - I chose the 2D animated design because I feel like the order to make this, I need to push the boundaries as to how the characters can move. You know the original episode of the series, Hazbin Hotel? The way the character Alastor stretched and moves when he first walks into the room upon meeting Charlie? It would be great if Pitch had that sort of movement. (I’m still debating on an Anime, Blue Eye Samurai look or an Arcane matte painting, combined with the character designs from the books.)

Now I’m going to ask you guys some questions in a bit! I need some fan input into what you guys would want to see with these characters! I don’t want Jack being the main character only because I want to try something different, but if it comes down to you guys wanting Jack as the MC, then he can continue to be the protagonist!

Alright, guys..

Will be posting the second poll after this one is up!

[fionamccall]

Getting acquainted with the Magician of the North

Walter Scott's house at Abbotsford in the Scottish borders is a marvellous place to visit, and tells you everything you need to know about the man.

Being within touching distance of Edinburgh, its well on the tourist circuit and best combined with a visit to nearby Melrose Abbey, from whose gargoyles Scott borrowed large parts of his innovative Scottish baronial style decoration - example below:

Even the best writers are not plutocrats: the house is not a huge place and in his latter days Scott was in financial difficulties, but it is crammed full with objects of interest, as you might expect of someone who was such a key influence on the Victorians. Scott was an inveterate and, it seems, indiscriminate, collector of historical artefacts - large items include a full set of armour from the battle of Bosworth:

There is a full armoury, complete with a portrait of King James IV of Scotland:

A small cabinet of curiosities includes (I kid you not): Napoleon's blotter, a Mary Queen of Scots's crucifix, a Charles I memorial ring, a medieval Ave Maria charm brooch, Flora Macdonald's purse and a lock of Bonny Prince Charlie's hair. Oh and something belonging to Byron which I didn't manage to take a picture of.

In the interior decoration it is often impossible to be sure which are the genuine old items, and which copies, all blended into a seamless architectural gallimaufry:

I've read a couple of Scott's books now: Old Mortality and Tales of a Grandfather and am now enjoying Heart of Midlothian. Scott is so knowledgeable that to read his novels you'd think he was a historian. But what Scott is above all an entertainer: what he really likes is a great incident or story, which he recklessly adapts from a totally unrelated context, in order to make his tale more exciting. What you read is not history but the greatest of historical fiction.

[safyresky]

Happy Saturday night/Sunday morning fellow tsc fans! How we all feeling post episode drop? Good? Bad? SHOCKED and APPALLED at the Charlie scene*? Smad about Jack being called a frozen lunatic? Because our emotional support lunatic DID in fact THAW? Mad that Santa can now, uh, blow winds and uh, send ICICLES? WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN? WHAT DID HE DO TO JACK? WHERE IS JACK?

I'm calm, I'm cool. I'm chill. Uh.

Are you tired of people being like nah, fuck it, Jack is still evil/frozie/villain lmao, POST tsc3? Girl, same.

Well, may I offer you a plug for Crystal Springs in this trying time?

Crystal Springs? You ask. The thing I see you post about a solid 25% of your time on hellsite?

Yes! Crystal Springs!

Well...alright, I'll bite, you say. What is it?

Crystal Springs is a genfic that I wrote that takes place a year after tsc3, and focuses on our boy Jack Frost, who has THAWED! He's been chilling at the Pole, doing them community service hours, making up with Santa and the other elves, just. Y'know. GETTING BETTER POST-THAW. HE'S HAVING A REDEMPTION ARC! IT'S GREAT! IT'S ALL GREAT!

Except for one itty bitty tiny thing...

His powers seem to be...gone. And you know, this wouldn't be TOO much of a problem if he wasn't tied to the Dome that shelters the entire North Pole and saves them from exposure and also, keeps Elfsburg temperate!

But unfortunately, keeping the Dome shipshape is one of the ah, not so perky perks of Jack's job. And when his powers stop working...the Dome starts melting, warming up the North Pole and letting the magic leak out. And if the magic leaks out??? It'll spread way too fast, way too hot, and potentially jeopardize not only the magical populous of the world, but the regular populous, too! Because not only does the Dome keep them safe and temperate, it also doles out the magic in proper quantities so as not to overwhelm the magic that coats the entire globe!

And on TOP of that, BECAUSE the Dome melting is starting--a process known as the Deliquesce--everyone is beginning to think that maybe Jack's going back to his old ways...ruh-oh raggy!

So what to do, what to do? Well, after finally admitting his lack of powers to the Council, there's one thing that may be able to help Jack: the Legate Law.

Santa has his clauses, but the Council? Well, they all have a lil' something known as the Legate Law, in which, should something happen to them or they become unable to do their job or even just retire (yeah tscs series, I did it FIRST! HA!), their Legate steps in to take their place!

Jack's Legate should be good to take over his seasonal duties and fix up the Dome temporarily, if they partially enact the law. They may even be able to help Jack get to the bottom of his power shortage!

There's only one problem.

His Legate is his younger sister, Jacqueline.

Who he hasn't seen or talked in fourteen hundred years.

In fact, the last time they saw each other, he uh. He maybe almost killed her. Maybe. Almost. It was bad. Bad enough to be known as the Day of Darkness in magical history.

But, Jack, realizes, it's time to make amends with the fam. And this seems to be the only way to save the North Pole and all of the magical world. (And Christmas too, I guess).

But when Jacqueline arrives and things take a turn for the worse, the pair realize that if they want to fix this at all, they're gonna have to go home.

Back to Crystal Springs.

(BOOM NAME DROP!)

So off Jack goes to make amends with his parents, meet the younger twin siblings he didn't even KNOW existed, and hopefully get his and Jacqueline's sleet together before the nefarious stranger in the shadows manages to string together a devious plot for some very, very, very old vengeance on the Frosts.

Oh, I didn't mention the mysterious stranger? Well, there is one, and he's stirring up trouble for the entire Frost Fam!

So. In conclusion. Crystal Springs has EVERYTHING.

AND MORE! (Bernard, weird evil man working in the shadows for lord knows WHAT reason, canon characters IN CHARACTER)

But mostly, it has JACK. And if anyone out there is missing their emotional support frozen lunatic, well. I GOTYOU ;)

🆕🆕 And is now on ao3 here! 🆕🆕 (Up to Chapter 29: Mind Goop)

*we here at SafyreSky Industries are aware of the reasons they did the Charlie scene the way they did in Disney+'s The Santa Clauses. However, we are upset at the way they portrayed him and his wife's relationship. SafyreSky Industries is of the opinion that:

A) Charlie should have TOLD wifey AGES AGO about Scott as Santa AGES AGO and that

B) Had he and wifey had a nice conversation that was drawn out and not, you know, like THAT. Just a bit more mature and heartfelt and communicating their needs to one another, then it would've been LESS anger inducing, and finally

C) Like Charlie being next better and as such, will be going forward in CS Verse canon with Charlie becoming Santa's Legate and after that, the next Santa :)

[pvbby-b1ush]

strange and bizarre stories from my childhood

when i was a lot younger, we used to go to my aunt and uncle's restaurant up north. and it was usually always semi-normal. i remember getting early christmas presents from them at their house, and my aunt had a really creepy american girl doll collection and the bathroom smelled really good.

anyway

one year when we arrived, my aunt had a live bagpipe player who was apparently a good friend there and he was playing when we entered and she had him play right in front of our table and i remember being so overstimulated because on top of that absolutely horrifying noise (he wasn't very good) my baby brother started screaming cause there's a man playing bagpipes like right in front of you. literally feet away from you

i remember me screaming at my dad, who was ignoring me, because my drawing was actually burning up cause they had candles there and i was holding a paper that set on fire

so my uncle put out the fire and put the burned up drawing on the seat of my baby brother's high chair and i said isn't his butt going to get burned from that and everyone told me he'll be fine

other than that it was usually a great time, we watched charlie brown there and i remember they brought lemon cake once which was really good. but back in about 2015 they lost their house in a fire, so we didn't see them until about 2018

so we visited their now relocated restaurant one year for thanksgiving, and i don't remember what exactly happened except i was really proud of myself for making this nasty concotion using the kitchen stuff. and then my aunt started crying and suggested we all hold hands and sing a hymn together. and then the two chefs there whispered to my brother and said "please help us, what are they doing"

and i remember us all being in a car together getting starbucks afterwards but there were literally 5 people in this super tiny car and my brother insisted on sitting in the front. so i was sitting in the middle of these two chefs who i have never met before feeling more than mildly uncomfortable

when we were back at the restaurant at one point a woman came in from her jog to say hi to us and like the first thing my aunt shared was that my dad met obama once which is not true at all but my dad wasn't about to tell her no

anyway after that we all drove home and the entire thing feels like a fever dream now but yeah that was like every thanksgiving before covid

[signalwatch]

Angry Animal Watch: Cocaine Bear (2023)

Watched:  05/12/2023

Format:  Peacock

Viewing:  First

Director:  Elizabeth Banks

EDIT: After posting, I was reminded that Banks also directed "Pitch Perfect 2" and "Charlie's Angels". I want to thank the commenter here and on signal-watch.com who mentioned this. Also, a big reminder to check IMDB before I hit publish.

Sometimes a movie is exactly what you thought it was going to be, but is also what what you were *hoping* it would be, while also being *better* than what you expected.  It's a peculiar equation, but in the middle of this particular triangle of expectation vs. reality, we find Cocaine Bear (2023).

Now, Cocaine Bear is not for everyone.  I read a few reviews that were quite cross about "nothing happens, it's just a bunch of sequences".  And, sort of.  But, also, that's exactly the point.  This is a movie about the joy of a rampaging bear fucking people up.  And, frankly, if you think the *many, many* movies about people getting picked off one-by-one are deep character work with the bear/ shark/ what-have-you as merely a framework, I have some property to sell you in Arizona.  A few are, 90% of them are filling time.  Elizabeth Banks, here in her first feature directorial effort, utterly understands the assignment.  

Banks cuts out any character development to the "bare" minimum.  The bear is not a metaphor.  It is not retribution.  It is not even a force of nature, for in nature, bears do not do massive amounts of coke.  While technically "man vs. nature" is our conflict, nature has consumed massive quantities of cocaine.  

We are not here to learn anything.  We're not going to pretend there's a story of human ingenuity or the human spirit.  We're going to observe people get killed in hilariously horrible ways by a bear, starting from minute one and ending in minute 90.  And we're going to like it.

Cocaine Bear is clearly a rated-R horror comedy, and indulges in a gleeful nihilism as the mission rather than pretending it's doing something else.  No one's morals or innocence are going to protect them from a bear hopped up on goofballs.  So, be prepared for chaos in a world with no real meaning.  

The plot is based on two things that really happened.  IRL, a known drug dealer was found dead in someone's yard with an un-popped parachute and loaded down with 70 lbs of cocaine.  The plane crashed in North Carolina, but drugs seem to have fallen from the plane into Georgia, where a 175 lb bear got into them and was found dead from partying too hard.  No hikers, naturalists, rangers, punks or anyone else was eaten by a bear.The movie knows this is an anecdote, not a story.  And, in the time-honored tradition of cinema, asks "what if?"  

Banks, who has been a thing in Hollywood since at least 2002's Spider-Man (she made a smashing Betty Brant, and I'm sorry she was so underutilized in that franchise), is able to get some interesting casting.  I assume she just said "I'm Elizabeth Banks and I'm making a movie" and that was a selling point for much of the cast.*  

Sure, it's weird that this is Ray Liotta's second-to-final picture (he's also in the just-released Fool's Paradise).  But the film has Keri Russell, Matthew Rhys, Jesse Tyler Ferguson, Margo Martindale, Alden Ehrenreich, Isiah Whitlock Jr., and Ice Cube's son, O'Shea Jackson, Jr.  That's kinda nuts for a movie about a rampaging bear.

There's a lot of remarkably good visual humor in this thing - if you can stand fake bear maulings - from tree-based jokes to ambulances in trouble.  But character stuff, too, like the mini-arc of the detective disappointed in the dog the ASPCA has given him.  One of the funniest gags of the movie - to me - is that a kid (a friend of Russel's daughter) acts shockingly like a real kid in the midst of all the chaos.

Anyway - quality work.  A perfect Friday-night watch.  Two paws up.  Way up.

*whenever Banks gets interviewed, she's very sharp.  I suspect getting into directing could be a great move for her.

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[floatingonalowvibe]

chapter six, part one

After reading that letter, I had just a moment to think.

I didn’t think of anything in general, but just a moment to sit.

The joint had burnt out a long while ago, but the high was still strong enough for me to feel floaty and light.

I knew Dad was coming to visit the family in a few weeks, so that would be the time I would leave.

Ever since I first visited the North Pole that one faithful night, it seemed so alluring to me, like it wanted me to stay. It was so comforting, the small snow flurries, the faint smell of something I can only describe as a Christmas smell. And the friendlier than ever elves, how they would let me watch their work, and how even sometimes they would let me help. I still know how to make a few trinkets that they taught me how to make. I will never forget the wonderful feeling of the North Pole. The feeling of belonging was always there. The human world could never compare.

I could never forget Bernard, how whenever I think of him, the smell of peppermint and cinnamon finds a way to waft into my nose and calm my mind. His tall stance of confidence, how he would loom over me when I was around him. His tight curls, lopsided hat. I couldn’t get him out of my mind.

I could imagine his voice, how smooth it was.

God, I can't get enough of him.

He's just so.....i don’t even know how to describe it.

His pointed ears, always rosey face with a slight sparkle to it.

I knew it was the drugs talking, but he was beautiful.

~one week later~

this weekend dad was coming over. I have been waiting for what feels like forever.

Charlie helped me pack up a good amount of the items I owned. in total, I had one large suitcase and two bookbags filled. I didnt own much, but a cherish what I have.

everyone was downstairs, Charlie and I were sitting in the living room, him being busy trying to figure out how to fix a CD player he got about a month ago. I on the other hand, was going through old cassettes I had, figuring out which ones I could erase and re-tape for different songs. Neil and mom were both in the kitchen, talking about some boring adult stuff. I know I'm basically an adult, but it doesn't seem right to me. being an adult sounds scary to me.

everything was silent, except the crackling fireplace charlie and I started about an hour ago.

the silence was broken by a rythmic knocking on the front door. Charlie and I immediately bolted for out seats in the living room to the door.

we were greated by none other than dad, who sported a nice red sweater this evening. he looked jolly as ever, with his rosy cheeks, big round belly, and white hair with a matching beard.

"Hiya guys!" he said, opening his arms to give us two a hug. we both have him a big bear hug, which he returned with an even bigger bear hug.

we all had huge smiles on our faces as we walked into the house, Charlie going on a rant to dad about all the interesting things that have happened since he has been gone. I just watched him.

~pretend I wrote a whole dinner scene~

I was back to my place in the living room, stuffed from the dinner.dad and Charlie were sitting next to me, dad helping Charlie figure out his CD player.

I glanced over to the clock that sat above the fireplace, it read 8:30, right on the dot.

I made an agreement with mom that I could leave at 9:00, so I have been anxiously waiting for that time to roll around. And now it was almost time.

I got up from my spot, causing dad to ask here I was going. I replied, telling him I was grabbing my stuff, getting ready to leave.

I made my way up the stairs, walking into my room.I grabbed my bags, looking around at my room. I wasn't going to miss anything.

~timeskip, theyre about to leave~

hugs and kisses were being tossed around as we were standing outside by dad's sleigh. Mom had me in bone crushing hug, not wanting to let go of her son who she loved dearly. I awkwardly hugged her back, reassuring her that I would be back before she knew it. I was only staying there for a few months to see how I liked it there.

Niel was right behind her, giving me a big hug. he was telling me how much he was going to miss me, how well I'm going to do, and reassuring with me that I got everything I needed.

last but certainly not least, was Charlie. he was almost in tears as he hugged me. I hugged him tight, talking him that I would write letters. His hug lasted longer than any of the other hugs.

after yet another round of hugs, kisses, and goodbyes, dad and I were off.

the feeling of the crisp air flying through my hair was amazing. I couldn't wait to get to the north pole.

part 2 should be posted later today.

any type of interaction with this story is greatly appreciated.

go drink some water.

[seabreeze2022]

Wales day 6 and 7, August 2024.

Today we trek to a Castle in Caernarfon on the Wales mainland. Neil and Beverley have seen this multiple times so they did some shopping in town while Nancy and I did a 1 hour self guided tour.

Neat little town, this was a four day weekend and it was busy.

You can’t go to Caernarfon without going to the “Black Boy Inn.” As the sign says, built in 1522. Making it one of the oldest pubs in Wales. To pit in perspective, 254 years before America was founded.

This is the front door.

Neil and Nancy bellying up to the bar while putting in our order of Guinness.

Round two….

Wales is known for their love of poetry. They have a yearly competition where the winner is presented with a one of a kind hand built chair. Here I am sitting in one from a bygone era.

From the “Black Boy Inn” we headed to a great Indian food dinner. I thought it a bit strange that a sign in the entry said “no personal sodas allowed.” Turns out being muslim they did not sell alcohol. So you were allowed to bring in your own beer, just not sodas.

Day 7 morning walk. One of many wild flowers, vines and blackberries along the walk.

Neil’s twin sister Janet and her son’s dog joined us for the walk this morning. The day prior we ran into one of Neil’s neighbors near Saint Ceidio’s Church. She mentioned she had the key to the church and helped keep an eye on it. When stopped at her house and retrieved the key that day. She was kind enough to invite us in. She and her husband had taken an old water mill that was in ruins and rebuilt a beautiful house out of it. So today we will get inside of the church.

This church is a 19th century church built on a site that may have been used as a church as long ago as 630 ad. This church was rebuilt using the stones from a 14 th century church previously sitting here.

West wall with its bellcote.

Neil with the key to the door. The round headed doorway may be from the 14th century.

This church has not been in use for many years. So we had to knock down several spiderwebs. Neil made himself at home in the pulpit. Which he had also done in the church in New Bedford, Mass. Which was featured in the movie Moby Dick.

In the back of the church was a stretcher used to carry caskets to the graveyard.

An inscription on slate in the memory of a 21 year old who died in 1802.

Dropped the key off at the old mill which is now a house.

Janet, Charlie and Nancy checking a pasture on the way home. Hurry up we don’t want to miss tea time!

After lunch we drove to the north shore of Anglesey to look at this lighthouse on the point to the right.

Point Lynas lighthouse is very unique. Since it is plenty high to see from the sea. It is built into the wall of the building with light only visible for 180 degrees.

The walk to the lighthouse.

The gate leading to the lighthouse. There are a couple of rooms that you can rent here. Not sure how nice those expensive rooms would be when the fog horn sounds.

Here is the actual light. There is a modern radar antenna, and anemometer on the roof. The ship pilots used this point to help ships getting to Liverpool. The pilot station was built in 1776. This light was built in 1835 which is visible for 18 nautical miles.

A heather covered hillside leading to the water. One seal was visible nearby.

Windy out here on the point.

View from the point back towards the lighthouse.

Neil in the heather.

Neil working the lath in his shop, which he let Nancy try her hand at. One more night watching “Rawhide” then we leave on the ferry the next day for Dublin. What a great vacation, thanks to Neil and Beverley Gadsby.

[culttvblog]

Number 6 was a Plant: The Schizoid Man

You can read the introduction to this series of posts considering the theory that Number 6 didn't resign and was a 'plant' in the Village here: https://www.tumblr.com/culttvblog/738540162388213760/number-6-was-a-plant-introduction

Oh alright, even though I love the theory greatly and it's one of the best explanations for what's going on to my mind, I'm damned if I can twist the events of The Schizoid Man to fit the theory that Number 6 was a plant.

I mean, I'm sure all sorts of organisations get inspected or audited all the time but nobody has to face a workplace event in which they are just practicing their psychic ability when they are faced with an exact double of themselves and tortured into believing the double is them. And I'm supposed to make sense of this? It's one of the favourite episodes of the show, doubtless because it's one of the more fantastic, but the events are difficult to fit into a mundane explanation.

Instead I'm going to talk about the matter of the flapjacks given to Flapjack Charlie. It has bugged me forever watching this show, that the problem is those are not flapjacks. They look more like what are called in this part of the country Staffordshire oatcakes, which are more like pancakes but including oats. In the picture the foods are called in British English from left to right: Staffordshire oatcakes, oatcakes and flapjacks. The word oatcake on its own means something much firmer and more like a biscuit.

It was the Free for All podcast (go and listen to them, it's great) that sorted this for me, by suggesting that in parts of the USA the food on the plate might be called a flapjack. That would mean this is one of only two occasions I know of where US English is used on the series, the other being where Number 6 refers to 'candy'. Anyway I found one site which asserted that in the south of the USA flapjacks is used for flat griddle cakes (although the site described them as larger than pancakes and they're definitely the size of pancakes in Staffordshire, although it may only be the north of Staffordshire traditionally). Apparently they don't necessarily include oats but in Britain all three foods always do.

At least I have an explanation for why Number 2 is giving Number 12 Staffordshire oatcakes to eat and calling them flapjacks. Although I was even further confused that the website that told me this included a picture of what I would call girdle scones, and that's even without going into scones, muffins and pikelets.

I'll tell you right now, my head is spinning so much that any critical comments to this post will certainly result in a lengthy explanation of why tea tastes better in Birmingham than anywhere else in the country. Including Yorkshire.

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