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heygerald · 4 months

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Falling Without A Harness - Chapter 5

AU where Tom Ryder is still an asshole, just not a psychotic one. When he has good news, but no one to share it with, Parker invites him along to her brother's birthday party. A moment of weakness, or a moment for him to prove he's more than just his Hollywood ego?

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"—and Jody said she was going to wear something simple, maybe jeans and a t-shirt, but I'm not really sure I want to match that vibe or go for something a little more, you know, fun. Maybe I could finally break out the bucket hat tonight," Colt's voice droned on from the phone tucked indelicately into the crevice of her neck and shoulder. Parker was only half listening, as was the usual when it came to her brother's incessant rambling about anything related to the pretty blonde camerawoman, and while he talked, she made work of slowly peeling strips of painters tape from the freshly painted wall. The ball in her hand was nicely sized by this point of the conversation. "So, anyway... uh, wait, what was the point?"

"Was there a point?" she mused aloud. "I stopped listening when you started talking about some pony she rode once at her twelfth birthday party."

She heard him snap his fingers. "Right—the birthday party."

"Hers or yours?"

"Mine! Listen, I know that you all put a lot of work into planning this shindig—"

"Shindig? God, you're old!"

"—but I would really appreciate if you told me what to expect tonight. Just a hint will do. I'm not trying to show up wearing dress shoes to a disco if you know what I mean."

Parker stuck another piece of tape onto the ever-growing ball with a blithe snort. "I never know what you mean."

"Park," he whined, much like a child, and not the thirty-something year old man that he was. Was this year number thirty-seven or thirty-eight? She should probably figure that out before putting candles on his cake. "Come onnnnnn. Just tell me. Just a hint!"

"And ruin the surprise? No way, Jose."

"But it's my birthday surprise! You can spoil it for me. I mean, realistically, no one would blame you if, maybe, you accidentally let the surprise slip. It'd be expected coming from you, actually."

She frowned. "What do you mean it would be expected coming from me?"

"Well, you know, you can't keep a secret to save your life."

Parker tossed the ball of tape into the trash and picked up the broom with an indignant scoff. "Excuse me, I am a very good secret keeper."

A long winded and high-pitched whine followed, and she winced at the volume of it. Parker switched the phone to her other ear, certain that between her brother and Melissa she had permanent hearing damage.

"Oh, so now all of the sudden you're a locked vault!" he blathered on. "Where was this dedication to silence when I got sick at Macy Lindwigs wedding and you spent the entire evening telling everyone you could find?"

An image of Macy Lindwig, dressed to the nines in a beautiful handmade wedding dress, staring in horror as her brother puked in an azalea bush three minutes before the ceremony started came to mind.

"Oh, I totally forgot about that," she snickered, the memory almost too sweet to ignore now that it had been brought back up. "You ruined her heels that night, you know. What was I supposed to do? Not tell everyone?"

"For starters. Or, at the very least, you could have refrained from blabbing about it at Christmas," he muttered petulantly. "Grandma never looked at me the same way again. She still won't let me near her rose garden."

"Cause and effect," Parker chirped. "You drank one too many tequila shots the night before, and thus, you have to suffer the fate of Grandma judging you every Christmas Eve."

"Miami Vice premiered the night before!" he argued, shouting, in what she suspected was a deranged manner. Parker hoped he was somewhere public; perhaps a grocery store or laundromat. "Just another example of how you can't keep a secret for the life of you, not even when your brother's good name is at stake. Your only true sibling, might I add."

"And here I thought I was an orphan found in a box."

She could hear Colt kicking something, palm clasped over the speaker as he whined, before he was back. "You're worse than Judas, you know. You ruin lives just for the fun of it, no silver needed."

"Are you offering silver?"

A cough. "Uh, I mean, I'm a little tight on silver at the moment. I think I have a free sub from Publix somewhere around here."

"A coupon. Wow. So generous."

"It's a punch card, and those aren't easy to fill out, you know," he huffed indignantly, obviously put out that Parker wasn't going to accept his lackluster offer. "What if I say pretty please?"

"Ha! Nice try. I happen to like Jody, so even if I wanted to tell you what we're doing tonight—which I don't—I'm not going to. She was really excited to help me plan this year."

Some spluttering followed her resolution, before he was kicking something again. Apparently, whatever he kicked was harder than he thought, however, and the next moment her brother was wheezing in pain.

"Jesus, take it easy, alright? You're going to need your toes for tonight."

In a breathless voice, he weaseled, "tonight at...?"

But Parker was no novice when it came to keeping secrets from her brother, and so she didn't fall for the trick. "Ha, nice try," she snorted while stooping to sweep her pile of dust and paint chips off the ground. Shades of green and white stained her hands, but she didn't bother to clean them off. It would be a pointless endeavor, after all, considering what they had planned for Colt's birthday party later that evening. "I'm trying to stay on Jody's good side."

"Both of her sides are good sides," was his immediate response, something wistful coloring his tone. "She's gorgeous. If you haven't noticed."

"Trust me," Parker deadpanned with a blithe glance at her own disheveled appearance, "I've noticed."

"Do you think I should bring her flowers?"

"To your birthday party?"

"Girls like flowers. Plus, she's planning the whole thing."

"I helped!"

"I'm not bringing you flowers to my birthday party, Park. It's not about you, you know."

"Right, of course, how could I have forgotten?" she deadpanned. However, despite his disinterest in showing her any gratitude, Parker smiled at the concept that there was a man out in this world so infatuated by a woman, that he not only spent all his time talking about her, but he also wanted to bring her flowers for no good reason. If only she could find someone like that who wasn't her brother. Wishes and wants, she supposed. "As nice of a thought as that is, don't bring her flowers tonight. They'll end up wilted by the time she gets back home from the party. If they aren't totally trashed first, that is."

His tone pitched higher, eagerly. "Trashed? Why would they be trashed? Are we doing some floral vandalism tonight? Oh!" Colt cried, hands clapping together. "Are we going to a wreck-it room? I've always wanted to do something like that. You know, somewhere that wasn't on a set, anyway, where I'm being beat up for a living with props."

Parker covered the speaker of her phone to curse at herself. While she hadn't ruined the surprise, Colt was like a dog with a hambone, and was not likely to let it go anytime soon.

She cleared her throat and attempted indifference. "Not even close," she said, but it didn't sound super convincing, and with an exasperated huff, she threw her hands up. "Jesus, Colt, you're going to get me into trouble! Just chill out. Jody should be picking you up soon, anyway."

"Picking me up soon for...?"

Colt's whining was interrupted by the tinkle of the front bell, and as she switched her phone back to her right ear, Parker took a moment to scoop up the paint-splattered tarp sprawled across the floor.

Melissa had been on to something with her suggestion to repaint the store, and while they had only gotten the walls finished over the past two and a half weeks, the mossy green color with gold accented picture frames really gave some life back to her shop. It still had that musty smell, as well as a pair of flickering lightbulbs from the janky electrical sockets, but they were definitely taking a step in the right direction. The color made everything feel cozier, and once they coated the bookshelves with shades of blue and yellow and replaced the overhead fluorescents with something warmer, she thought it might look like an entirely new store for the price of a few gallons of paint.

Not to mention the color stood out from the recent tan and brown trend that had swept across Hollywood hills. Win, win.

"Ugh! Stop trying to spoil your own surprise and let it happen, alright? You're going to love it," she pacified half-heartedly while booting a stool out of the way. Too deep of a breath had the smell of laquear and paint fumes killing off some braincells, and Parker dropped the tarp along with the rest of the paint materials with a cross-eyed huff. "Plus, it was all Jody's idea, so if you hate it, I would keep that to your..."

Parker paused halfway up the aisle.

On the far end of it, a brown and black colored dog sat patiently wagging its tail at her. Its tongue was sticking out of the side of its mouth, but despite Elon Musk's predictions about the existence of intelligent life in the galaxy, she was pretty sure that the local population of Hollywood mutts had yet to grow opposable thumbs capable of opening a door.

She blinked at it.

"Er, listen," she muttered into the phone, gaze darting past the dog, but not seeing its owner. "I have to go. There's a dog situation that I need to take care of."

"A dog? I've been asking you for years to get a dog, and now you finally decide to get one on my birthday! That's so totally fu—"

Parker hung up before he could complain any further, and slowly tucked her phone into the back pocket of her jeans. The dog barked at her, as if excited to finally have her attention.

"Er—hi. Did you—how did you get in here?" she asked.

It responded by tilting its head to a ninety-degree angle. She stared, waiting, as if the language barrier would suddenly disappear.

Unsurprisingly, it didn't. The dog barked a second time.

"I don't have any treats on me," she said again, not sure else what to say, but certainly feeling like she should say something. It trotted towards her, and though it seemed friendly at first, when it stuck its head into her crotch to take too deep a sniff for comfort, Parker jumped backwards. "Ah—fuck! Buy a girl dinner first, huh?"

She sidestepped the dog, hands splayed out in front of her like she was a robbery victim, and did her best to avoid being felt up as the dog followed her towards the storefront. It nosed her rear end, and Parker let out an undignified squeak.

"Jesus! I know the humane society is underfunded and all, but this is a little ridiculous, don't you think?" she asked it.

The dog darted in front of her, nose going right back for the crotch, and Parker just barely managed to leap onto Melissa's sunken reading chair when an increasingly familiar head of blonde hair stepped out from behind one of the bookshelves.

"Talon, Jean Claude," he said, and as though the dog hadn't just been harassing her, it plopped down onto the floor right beside him. Dog and owner blinked at her in bemusement. "Don't seriously tell me that you're afraid of dogs."

Parker shot him a disgruntled glare in response, but Tom didn't seem to mind the heat packed behind it. Instead, he smirked at her, crossed one arm over the other, and languidly leaned back against the front counter.

It was obvious he was laughing at her, and not with her, and Parker added it to the list of all the things she couldn't stand about Tom Ryder. Worse though, she couldn't help but subconsciously smooth a hand over her hair, because where Jody was effortlessly gorgeous, Parker required quite a bit of effort not to look awful. And right now, with paint-stained pants, a half-assed pair of dutch braids, and miscolored converse, she was certainly not showing him her good side.

If she even had one, that is.

"I should have known you would have a pervy dog," she said while looking down her nose at him. Literally, too, considering she was still standing on the chair. Parker flushed a bright red at the realization and none-too-glamorously clambered down onto her feet. "And French, too. I think that's stereotyping, Ryder."

Despite the distrustful look she shot the dog, he seemed a whole lot less pervy and rabid now that she knew he had an owner, and when she approached it, its tail flapped back and forth excitedly.

"Insulting an entire country?" Tom harrumphed as she started to scratch the dog between its ears. "Maybe you should sit through PR training with me next time Gail hosts a session."

She blew a bland raspberry as she read the dog's name tag.

Jean Claude. Huh. Cute.

He let out a low whine when she hit a particularly sensitive spot, and in delight, he rolled onto his back with half-lidded eyes.

"Is this the one you were talking to the other day, or do you have any other expat mutts that I should know about? I can only be felt up so many times before I file a harassment complaint."

"Jean Claude isn't a mutt," he corrected her, disdain at the very idea of owning a mutt. Parker supposed adopting a kennel-dog was likely below him, being a superstar and what not. "He's an Australian Kelpie, pure-bred, and he certainly wasn't fucking cheap. His parents are award winning cattle dogs in the Australian circuit."

"That's an award category?"

"Hmph. Laugh all you want, but I'd bet he's better trained than you are. He's even trained to attack someone in the balls on command."

"So am I," she sassed while making kissy faces at Jean Claude. "Oh, he's cute. Yes, you are. Yes, you are," she cooed.

He ate it right up, tail flapping in every direction, and when she spared Tom a glance, she could feel the jealousy rolling off him that someone else was getting more attention. Dog or not. Parker snickered.

"Sorry you're stuck with this one," she added, jerking a thumb over her shoulder to gesture in Tom's general area. "But trust me, you're way cuter, and probably lower maintenance than he is."

Tom cleared his throat. "Are you done?"

"Jealous?"

"Of a dog?" he deadpanned, rolling his eyes beneath a pair of expensive Ray Bans—not at all disproving the theory—and Parker smiled at her private joke. "Hardly."

She leaned closer to Jean Claude, and spoke in a stage whisper, "I think he's jealous."

And—yup—that seemed to do it.

Tom pushed off the counter with a sharp huff, unamused by her teasing, and make a command in French. Jean Claude bounded onto his feet, trotted to where Tom was, and curled up between his legs.

Parker stood and planted her hands onto her hips. "Real mature."

"I can always show you his attack command," Tom threatened. "I doubt you'll find him as adorable when he attacks you. It's always a hit at parties, watching someone get their balls bitten off."

"I think I'm missing a critical component for that trick to work," she pointed out with a dry smile. "But, anyway, what are you doing here? If you came to return my books, they're yours, considering how much you paid for them the other day."

He shrugged. "Maybe I want my change."

"You came all the way here, through traffic, to get your change?" she echoed, clearly disbelieving his piss poor excuse. Under her stare, Tom shuffled uncomfortably on his feet. "Hm. I thought I was supposed to be the penny pincher between the two of us."

"Maybe it's not the money I care about. It's the principle of the whole thing."

"Ha! You expect me to believe that you have principles?"

Tom huffed, but she caught the crooked upturn of his mouth. Still, he played the victim—always acting, this one. "You're right. I don't just deserve change. I should get a full refund, considering how awful your book recommendations were. Not to mention the books practically fell apart when I touched them. Clearly, you sell cheap products."

"Clearly," she muttered, while flipping the sign on the front door from OPEN to CLOSED. There wasn't much going on outside, anyway, and she doubted she would be missing any customers by taking the day off early.

"You want to tell me what you're really doing here? Because we both know you liked my recommendations," she said matter-of-factly, moving to the cash register now. She had made a few sales throughout the day, more than a typical Friday, and so she carefully began stacking her receipts. "I mean, who wouldn't? Those are good books I gave you. Contact is in my top ten."

Tom leaned on the counter. "Books I bought."

She waved him off, stack of receipts in hand, as she locked the lower cabinet. Tom could complain all he wanted, but she did know that he liked her book recommendations. He had finished them all within a week, when he likely should have been spending more attention devoted to practicing for his audition. Granted, it was a sci-fi movie he was auditioning for, but—

She startled.

"Oh, duh!" Parker sprung to her full height with a curious look. "Did you get the part?"

Tom smirked.

It wasn't bashful or pleasant or soft like authors typically described their tall, dark, and handsome characters, but it was so very him that she hardly minded it. In fact, Parker sort of liked it. It crinkled the soft lines by his eyes, loosened the tension in his shoulders, and made him look younger. Nicer. Cuter.

"Of course I did," he sassed. "I told you I was going to get it."

She ignored his blatant peacocking to punch him in the shoulder. The action seemed to shock him, and Tom clutched the spot with his other hand—as if she had done some real damage—while Parker grinned. "Holy shit, that's great! I mean, sure, you were a shoo-in or whatever, but this is a big deal. Right? It's a big deal? You must be jumping off the walls right now!"

Tom gave a bemused huff, eyes darting over the length of her face, and nodded. "Biggest movie I've gotten yet," he said. "My first sci-fi film too, so, that's going to get my name out there even more than it was. I mean, if I thought I was well known before... after this, everyone will know who Tom Ryder is."

"That's awesome!"

Tom rolled his eyes at her enthusiasm, clearly not buying into it, and though Parker was so excited on his behalf, Tom seemed like he was fighting off indifference to the news. "Yeah, well, a role's a role, you know."

"Well, yeah," she hedged, waving a hand at him, "but this is your first sci-fi role, and it was one that you even told me you wanted to get. You must be at least a little excited for it. Sci-fi is so interesting, I bet filming it is gonna be a ton of fun."

"Sure," he echoed dryly. His smirk had returned, and though she wouldn't necessarily classify what his face was doing now as a smile, it was certainly close. "Fun. That's what I'm aiming for in my career: fun."

"Oh, please," she clucked her tongue at him, receipts shoved hastily into their folder. "You can be a huge movie star and still have fun doing it. I mean, isn't that the point? Doing something you love and all that. I'd imagine it's going to be a whole new experience for you, stepping into a sci-fi set."

He hemmed, mouth twisting between a smile and a frown. "I guess."

He didn't sound all that convinced. In fact, when Parker thought about it, she seemed to be far more excited about the role than he did. She tilted her head at him suspiciously. "Alright, well... what are you doing to celebrate?" she asked. "A vacation? Buying yourself a new car? Oooh—Legoland?"

He furrowed his brows at her in surprised. "Legoland?"

"It's what I would do," she shrugged. "Probably, anyway. I've never been because the tickets just don't seem worth the price, but if I had just landed a giant role in a giant blockbuster, I think buying a ticket would be the least of my worries. You could probably even write it off on your taxes."

He blinked at her. "Poor people are so sad to me."

She stuck her tongue out at him, and took delight in the way that he huffed in amusement. "Well? Come on—make me jealous—what are you doing?"

Tom shrugged. "Gail's throwing a big party next week to announce the role. She always does that. Invites her producer friends and talent agents and that sort of stuff. There'll probably be some sort of attraction, singers or a zebra or something."

"Casual," she snorted.

"She has a weird thing for exotic animals, I don't know."

"Seems like it. But that's what she's doing, what are you doing?" she needled further. "I mean, I assumed you would do a big party with your friends before then. You know—cops get called, party crashers—the whole scene."

Tom hesitated to answer, and when he did, he didn't sound all that much like himself. "Well, I can't really do that—she controls when I make go public with the news—has the whole timeline figured out, and manages all the press for it. She doesn't let me tell people ahead of time."

"I'm people."

He rolled his eyes. "You're a nobody," he said. Not to be mean; no, Tom was very clear in his words when he intended to be mean. Instead, he had said it nonchalantly, as if it was a universal truth that everyone understood. And, in all honesty, Parker got it. "I mean, who are you going to tell that would care, you know?"

"Okay, ouch," she muttered still, before barreling on. "Don't you have any non-work friends that you can go get drinks with?"

"All my friends are work friends."

"What about people that don't know Gail?"

Tom huffed and waved a hand at her. "That's the same thing, you know. She introduced me to everyone I know in the industry. Other than some set hands, we have the same circle."

Parker sank onto her heels, feeling slighted on his behalf, but knowing that she didn't really have a right to. Surely, Tom Ryder would have stood up to Gail if he didn't like her hands-on, helicopter parent approach to managing his life. And clearly their work relationship was beneficial to them both. He certainly didn't need a nobody like her feeling sorry for him.

And yet, she did.

Because, as she listened to him talk, it felt like he had to give up everything just to be a somebody in Hollywood. And while it might have been the norm for him, it was absolutely not the norm for everybody.

Did he even realize that?

"Fuck that," Parker said before she could think better of it, emotions getting the better of her. Colt always joked that she had a bleeding heart, but she had never thought there was anything wrong with that. "Come hang out with me, then."

Tom arched a brow at her, mouth parted dumbly. "...what?"

She shrugged, feeling a little like a specimen beneath a microscope, and struggled to explain herself. "I mean, you just said that Gail doesn't want you telling anybody that matters, and I only hang out with people that don't matter in the grand scheme of Hollywood politics. I'm getting ready to head to Colt's birthday party after this, and if you're not doing anything else, you may as well come with me. It won't be a celebration for you, obviously, but... it'll be fun."

He blinked at her slowly, surprise written in the fine lines of his face.

"We're not going to murder you," she huffed indignantly.

"I—I never hang out with Colt or those guys."

"Yeah, for good reason. They all sort of hate you for being an asshole on set to them. Like, all the time. I wouldn't want to hang out with you outside of work either, if I was them."

He scowled. "Oh, well, when you put it like that," he huffed. "Obviously, they're not going to want me to come. And, I may be an asshole, but I try not to gatecrash birthday parties."

She waved his concern away with a paint-stained hand. "First off, you won't be gatecrashing, I'm literally extending an invite. And secondly, they only hate you because you're a prick on set. What better way to prove that you're not a prick, by coming to Colt's birthday party, and—you know—actually being nice for once. Just don't be a dickwad. Or an asshole. Or any sort of thing that you usually are on a normal day."

"I think the saying is 'always be yourself'," he deadpanned.

"That absolutely doesn't apply here."

"Smartass."

Parker nudged him in the shoulder with an exasperated look. "Come on! What else are you going to do? Do some irresponsible spending and buy everyone a round of drinks. I bet they'll think differently of you after everybody is a few beers in."

Tom didn't seem too convinced with her logic. "Crashing his birthday party doesn't seem the best way to get on Colt's good side. I didn't even know it was his birthday."

"Now you do," she shrugged, as if it wasn't a big deal. And—well—her brother was probably going to bitch about Tom's presence at the party, but Parker also believed that after a few shots of liquor, everyone would get over the issue fairly quick. Not to mention the party itself was designed for stress relief. Bringing Tom may actually make the night. With a conniving wiggle of her brows, Parker tried again. "I know for a fact that there's room for one more. Jody and I planned the whole thing together, and if she's allowed a plus-one, so am I. Jean Claude can even come. Colt loves dogs."

Tom seemed to sway a little further with her reasoning, and with a slow nod, he finally agreed. He certainly didn't look happy about it though.

Parker punched the air. Oh, Colt is going to love this.

"Awesome! Give me a minute to lock up, and then we can go."

"Fine," he huffed, not too unlike that of a sulky toddler. "But I'm driving."

Parker smiled. Her car was a piece of shit that barely worked on a good day. She was going to insist he drive in the first place. Plus, now, she could get really drunk.

"Fine by me," was all she said, not eager to give away that piece of information just yet. "Just promise me you won't be an asshole. I won't be able to keep my reputation of favorite sister if you ruin the night."

"I'm not going to ruin the night," he snarked with a petulant glare. Parker shrugged, grabbing her things, as he asked, "...wait, I thought you were his only sister?"

"Exactly. Now, come on, I want to get there before they start assigning teams."

The bell rang as she stepped outside, Jean Claude trotting with her, and Tom hesitated for a brief moment before what she said caught up to him.

"Wait," he called, jogging after her. "What do you mean teams?"

---

Tom's presence did not go unnoticed. In fact, it had taken a mere three minutes before Jody was elbowing her to the side, a stern, disbelieving look furrowing her brows. She had let it go in a huff, however, when Parker pointed out that Tom had promised to be on his best behavior, as well as promised to buy the first round of drinks once the game was over.

That had been a lie, of course, but she supposed she could deal with that tantrum later.

Colt, on the other hand, hadn't been so easily placated, and as the twenty odd players stood in a circle, listening to the instructor drone on about safety, he weaseled next to her with a glare.

"I can't believe you brought Ryder," he hissed for the third time that night, hot breath on her face. She would have shoved him away if the instructor hadn't already reprimanded then twice for being distracting. "I mean, seriously Park, I can't stand the guy."

"Oh, really? I couldn't tell."

"Really!"

"Well, I'm sorry," she shrugged, although the apology was half-hearted at best, and Colt seemed to know this as he narrowed his eyes at her irritably. She huffed. "What was I supposed to do? Leave him behind?"

"Yes," Colt whisper-yelled. Dan glanced over his shoulder at the pair, and in perfect Seavers' sibling unison, they plastered fake smiles onto their faces with a friendly wave. He shook his head at them, but likely didn't think they were worth whatever trouble they caused, and faced forward once more. "That's exactly what you should have done!"

"It's not that easy," she argued, hissing as well. "He looked so sad! Like a little abandoned puppy dog that had just been kicked. It was a moment of weakness!"

"Oh, really?" Colt drawled. Together, they glanced over at Tom to find him ignoring everyone in the group with his head stuck in his phone. When a fly buzzed too close, he swatted at it with an icy glare. "That? You couldn't say no to that?"

"I said I was sorry!"

Parker's voice hitched higher than she intended, and the instructor paused in his speech to glare at the duo. She gave him a weak smile in return, mouthing, a guilty, sorry!

The man only got two words back into his speech, however, before Colt started whining again.

"Look, I'm totally stoked about the surprise party, okay? You did a stand-up job on it and the guest list. So how could you fuck it all up so close to the finish line?"

"What the hell does that even mean?" she asked in bewilderment. Parker shook her head. "Seriously, you need to update your sayings."

"Update my—?" Colt bit off a groan, pinching the bridge of his nose to take a long, overdrawn breath. "Why was he even at your bookstore? Since when did you two become friends? What happened to the whole—asshole, asshole, asshole—bit you had going on?"

"I still think he's an asshole," she shot back. But, well, when she caught Tom's gaze across the grass, she faltered. Did she think he was an asshole at his core? Or had he simply become someone she was beginning to understand—a dog that lashed out when someone got too close? Parker rubbed circles into her temple. "And we're not friends. And, even if we were, you have no one to blame but yourself."

"Myself?" he echoed in disbelief. "What do I have to do with this?"

"You're the one that gave him my phone number."

Colt snorted, shaking his head at her. "Fat chance of that," he said. Parker, thinking he was joking at first, fell silent when he caught the look in his eye. But, if Colt hadn't given Tom her phone number, then who had? she wondered, mentally counting down the list of people it could have possibly been.

Bigger fish to fry, she reminded herself when the list made her go cross-eyed.

"Whatever. We're not friends or buddies or whatever you think we are, so you can stop worrying about that."

Colt snorted. "Oh, sure you're not. He just happens to hang out around your bookshop and you share recommendations and, oh yeah! You bring him as a plus-one to my birthday party!"

Parker scowled. "I made the guest list, I think I have a right to bring someone along with."

"Sure, someone. Not Jaws over there."

She frowned at him, thrown off by the random insult. "Jaws?" she echoed, crinkling her nose distastefully. "What does a shark have to do with this?"

Colt sighed. "No, not the shark, the James Bond villain."

"That's a stupid name for a villain."

"I didn't write the damn thing."

"Okay, well, maybe he has the arrogance of a James Bond villain, but at least pick one from this century."

"Silva?"

"Nah. Whose the the one with the weird eye?"

Colt hummed thoughtfully, gaze darting over towards Tom. "Le Chiffre?"

Parker snapped her fingers and pointed at him. "That one!"

"Yeah, alright, I'll give you that," he conceded, nodding. "He does give off Bond villain vibes with the sunglasses and hair-do."

"Right? Oh you should have seen these glasses he was wearing last time. They were huge, and yellow tinted; like Tony Stark would wear. They were so ridiculous."

Colt snickered for a moment, enjoying mocking Tom with his sister, before realizing that he was currently mad at her. He threw his head back with a subtle groan. "Stop doing that! I'm still mad at you!"

Parker gave her brother a blithe look. "I think you're looking at this all wrong."

"Wrong? What other way should I look at it?" he snarked. "With my eyes closed?"

Resisting the urge to smack him, Parker instead gestured to their instructor, the paintball gun in his hand, and then towards Tom. "You literally get the chance to chase down and shoot, Tom Ryder, bane of your existence or whatever. Shoot him. Think about all the welts and whining and, maybe, if you're lucky, the tears you can get out of this experience. Legally. Without getting fired or arrested. What's better than that, huh? It's your very own personal rage room."

Colt considered all of that silently. He swept his gaze from the large pile of paintball guns set off to the side, to the acres of arena in front of them with inflatable obstacles, and then to his blonde alter-ego sulking at the edge of the group.

He slung an arm around Parker's shoulder with the boyish grin. "Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

Parker snorted, amused by his mood swings. "Not nearly enough. It's all Jody this, and Jody that anymore."

Jody, having finished listening to the instructor's demonstration, peered around Colt's shoulder to blink at the siblings. "What about me?"

Colt and Parker shared a silent look.

"Nothing," she said, whilst he cooed, "just talking about how pretty you are."

Jody blushed a bright rouge instantly, and Colt obviously took pleasure in that when he slung his other arm around her shoulder. Taking a deep breath, he let out a happy sigh. "My two ladies. Paintball. The smell of tears and blood on the horizon. What better way to spend a birthday?"

Parker glanced at Jody, expecting her to roll her eyes, but the camerawoman instead just smiled with something soft in her eyes.

Parker responded by wiggling out of Colt's reach. "Ew, blegh, that's disgusting. They say cooties are contagious you know."

"What on Earth are cooties?" Jody asked.

"An STD," Colt replied, only half joking, and though Jody appeared mildly disturbed by his joke, Parker had known her brother long enough to appreciate his odd ball sense of humor. "And they're not contagious if you have a shot."

Jody, not wanting to know if he was serious or not, let it go as the group slowly filed forward to get their guns, face masks, and coveralls. They followed shortly after, snickering like kids the entire way through.

In the end, Colt and Jody both got white, while Parker and Tom were given black ones.

Karma, she supposed, is that she wouldn't be able to shoot the asshole after all.

"Somehow, this is a step up for your usual clothes," said asshole chirped, pinching the baggy material hanging at her waist between his forefinger and thumb. Parker swatted him away, only for Jean Claude to bark at her. "Easy, you want to get taken down before the game even starts?"

"Please, you're lucky we're on the same team," Parker teased. He didn't seem to buy it if the blithe look he shot her was anything to go by, and she huffed at him. "I bet I could have gotten the first hit on you if we weren't on the same team. I have mad skills at paintball, Ryder. Seal Team Six type stuff., you don't even know."

Tom rolled his eyes at the same time that Colt reappeared, face mask propped on the top of his head, looking just a tad too comfortable in his onesie. Jody and Dan flanked him, and Parker didn't like their smiles one bit.

"What?" she asked.

"You suck at paintball," Colt egged. "Remember Tallahassee? You were covered in welts for weeks!"

Tom snorted, and Parker considered him the greater threat considering the fact he was standing closer to her than Colt was. She glared at him to state, "I'm not joking. I could literally take you out. Any of you," she added with a stern point of the finger sweeping through the group. "All of you!"

Not a single person believed her.

Tom went so far as to snicker at her. "I don't buy that. for a second. You're a total klutz."

She gasped. "Am not!"

Colt raised a hand. "Are too. Remember when you broke your ankle trying to play hopscotch?"

"Just—stay out of this!"

He did not, in fact, stay out of it. "What was it you said, Park? Cause and effect? You suck at sports, and the effect of that, is you're about to go down on the course."

She blew a rather wet raspberry at her brother. "Please, if you and Tom were on the same team, I would smoke both of you."

They bickered for a moment, amusing some, but boring Tom, and the A-lister broke up their argument with a long-weary sigh. "Oi! Whose to say either of you could get a shot on me?" he taunted.

The siblings turned to face him.

"Is that a challenge?" Parker asked, hands planted on her hips, whilst Colt raised his brows.

Tom shrugged, unconcerned.

"In fact, I bet I'll make it a whole round without getting shot once," Tom tacked on, ego puffing his chest out as he smirked at the group standing around. Dan rolled his eyes, while Jody coughed into her hand to hide an obvious laugh at his showboating. "I'm serious. First one to hit me gets five hundred dollars—"

Thwack! Thwack!

Tom gaped at his chest, now dotted with one yellow and one blue splatter. Parker and Colt stood in front of him, guns still smoking, and while his eyes widened in anger, the pair of siblings were more concerned with claiming the prize to notice.

"First!" Colt cried.

"What? No fucking way," Parker argued. She waved at the yellow paint splatter haphazardly, almost taking out Jody as she did so. "I was so first. Tom! Tell him!"

Tom, now even more unamused by their bickering, blinked in wide-eyed disbelief at them both. "Are you fucking serious?" he shouted. "The game didn't even start yet!"

"But you just said—"

"I meant during a match. Christ, Parker, we're on the same team," he blustered, attempting to wipe off the paint, but only managing to smear it further down his chest like a bad Jackson Pollock painting. "Fuck!"

Colt, sensing a blow-out was coming, swung his gun behind his back with a wide eyed, innocent look. "Hey man, it was all her," he started. "Totally uncool. And immature. And, really, if you need me to smack her around a little after this I totally can."

Tom glared at Colt, effectively shutting him up in seconds, before turning to Parker. Everyone watched in baited breath, nervous what he might do, and while Parker hadn't been on set long enough to know what his meltdowns looked like, the ones most familiar with Tom were left stunned by his reaction.

Or, really, how utterly tame this one was to the hundred others they had seen.

"Are you happy now?" he asked.

Parker hemmed and hawed for a moment before deciding that honesty was the best policy. "I mean, I'd be happier if you gave me my five hundred dollars."

"I'm not paying you shit."

"Oh, come on," she rolled her eyes, popping a hip as she did so. "It's not like you're cash poor or anything. You're just upset that I shot you."

Tom gaped at her in disbelief. "No shit!"

Parker, shifting her gun over her shoulder, waved the other at him blithely. "You'll get over it once the game starts. It's—heh—surprisingly therapeutic."

"Shooting me is therapeutic?"

She paused, caught up in her own statement. "Er, well, not you exactly. Just someone, in general, you know." Parker swallowed when Tom continued to stare at her. Awkwardly, she laughed. "Just... wait till you get out there, and you'll see."

Tom remained silent, blinking at her for a long, tense, moment before he rolled his eyes with a heavy sigh. And—

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

His gun went off before anyone could stop him, and Parker gaped at the trio of yellow paint that was now splattered across her chest. "Fucking ow!"

Tom smirked at her, blowing the muzzle of his gun for extra flare, before swinging it over his shoulder. "Huh. I guess you're right. I do feel better."

"Asshole!"

"Yeah, well, takes one to know one, right?" he snarked.

And—oh.

She could kill him. Really, seriously kill him.

But, well, the longer she stared at him and he stared at her, eyebrow cocked and a daring smirk in place, Parker realized above the hatred simmering in her chest, she felt something kindred and wanting flutter like butterflies. Something amused by the curve of his smirk, flushed by the scorching burn of his gaze, and—dare she think—understanding at the retaliatory strike. She had, afterall, shot first.

He had only lowered himself to her level; played by her rules.

And with a strong suspicion that Tom Ryder wasn't so much an asshole as he was just looking for someone to understand him, Parker's only response to that was to throw her head back and howl in laughter.

Despite this, no one else moved for a long moment, too busy darting their gazes between Parker and Tom in case they needed to intervene, but in an even more surprising turn of events, he laughed as well. Not so outright, and not nearly as loud, but he did. Prompted by his positive reaction, it wasn't long before Colt started to laugh, and then Jody, and then suddenly everyone was knelt at the waist in laughter.

It wasn't until their instructor honked a blow horn at them, none too amused with the pre-game warfare, that they calmed down. He honked the horn a second time at Parker and Tom, threatening to kick them out if they kept breaking the rules, and while they managed to stay straight-faced, the moment he turned his back on the group, they shared matching grins.

Maybe, she thought as they got into place, it hadn't been such a bad idea to bring him along.

And maybe, her brother thought at the exact same time, Parker and Tom being friends wasn't the end of the world.

#the fall guy #falling without a harness #tom ryder x original female character #ofc #tom ryder imagine

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gaybananabread · 7 months

Note

I might be forgetful or just obsessed, but I don't think anyone's asked for headcanons about our Spider Gang: Miles, Gwen, Pavitr, and Hobie. >w< Or just your favorites, of course. I admit I'm most curious about Gwen and Hobie.

-Panda/Black Feathers

🕸️Spider Gang Tkl Headcanons☆

~What's wrong with both? But yeah, I've yet to do headcanons with these goobers. I don't know this “consistency” people speak of, so expect none of it. I do wanna add some other spider peeps to these, but we'll keep it to the Gang for now. Expect some more food, probably within the next few weeks. Thank you for the request!~

🎧Miles🎨

General:

We can all agree that he's a massive dork about this, right?

He's a lee-leaning switch, though it's close.

Loves tickling both ways, but can admit neither.

Boy gets squirmy every time the word is even mentioned. You bet he practically dies when any scene comes on TV

Lee:

Lee moods for him are quite frequent.

His friends have a system for detecting them at this point. Checklist and everything if they feel like being goofs.

Nervous giggles, extra knee bounces, higher voice, showier clothes if he's bold, easy blushes and jumpiness. They've got him down to a T at this point (⁠✿⁠^⁠‿⁠^⁠)

Super squirmy lee, you almost definitely need to pin him if you wanna live. Known for his donkey-kicks.

Worst spots are his armpits. He will screech if you even try to get him there. Not a spot for the weak-willed.

Melt spot is his neck. A few fluttering fingers, maybe gentle scritches under his chin, and you’ll have a giggly puddle of sleepy mirth.

Real easy to fluster. Say the t-word a few times, compliment his inevitable blush, maybe incorporate the Itsy Bitsy Spider. Immediate results!

He feels like he'd be super air-ticklish. Can not handle any wiggling fingers or sneaky teases.

Doesn't ask for what he wants, like, ever. Gotta use your detective skills around him (the checklist above is very helpful (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠))

Ler:

Such a shit, even though he can't handle a fraction of what he dishes out-

Absolutely webs people up to help himself (only if they're comfy with it ofc)

Very playful and teasing. You blush? Get ready for him to point it out at least seven times. Snort? Good luck.

“Your cheeks are all red, gigglebox. This fluster you that bad?”

“Aww, you snort? No, don't hide your face! I wanna hear it again!”

“What d’ya think happens when I go here? Yeah, right there. Only one way to find out~”

Once he gets a handle on his venom power, he learns that very small shocks can be quite effective in wrecking his lee.

So, Miles being Miles, abuses that knowledge at the most inopportune times.

Little jolts during training, walking through the halls, studying, you name it. By the end of the day, people are either ready to kill him or want him to just get it over with. He's happy either way.

Has high respect for boundaries. Before starting, he'll make sure the safeword is remembered and clarify what they're comfortable with.

Super nice aftercare. Cuddles, snacks and maybe listening to some music and napping on him while he sketches.

🥁Gwen🩰

General:

I’m gonna go with ler-leaning switch. Like Miles, it’s pretty close. These kids just love to laugh ¯\_(´꒳`)_/¯

A bit better in terms of confidence. If it’s a good day and the mood isn’t too severe, she can ask one of her close friends. Other than that, suffering until someone notices.

Lee:

When she gets lee moods, everyone is almost immediately alerted.

Either she has the courage to ask, or in the more likely event that she doesn’t, she’ll provoke everyone.

Snippy comments, crop tops, hair up, sarcasm for days, and THE SASSSS

If they don’t realize she’s in a lee mood, they’re gonna wreck her anyway for getting on their nerves.

A squirmer for sure, though not quite as bad as Miles. Careful of her legs, though. She was a dancer; that kind of strength combined with spider-power won’t feel very good to the jaw.

Worst spot is her navel. A few raspberries and she’ll be a cackling, snorty mess.

Melt spots are her back and ears. She loves light traces and scratches along her back, and a feather on the shells of her ears would be heavenly.

Adores cheer-up tickles. You’ll make her entire week if you gently trace her belly or squeeze her sides when she’s upset.

She’s got a really pitchy, bubbly laugh. You get her to belly laugh, and you’ll be rewarded with lovely snorts.

Ler:

VERY sassy and playful. Will tease the living hell out of you and giggle while she does it.

Anything she can tease you for, she will. Usually teasing-compliments, but she shakes it up.

“Such an adorable belly! It’s like it was made for me to poke and squeeze. Can’t deny its purpose, can I?

“It’s so easy to fluster you! I just need to say that one little word, and you can hardly breathe~”

“It tickles, does it? Sucks to be you. Now, onto those ribs…”

Gwen likes doing her nails with her friends, so those babies are always nice and tickly. The boys can never manage to keep theirs like that, no matter how hard they try.

She likes blowing raspberries if it’s someone she’s close to. Loves the silliness, and their reactions are just too cute.

Very good at giving cheer-up/comfort tickles. If someone’s upset, they go to Gwen for some special pick-me-ups.

Wondrous aftercare. Back rubs, praises and a movie night. She’ll even braid your hair if that’s something you’d enjoy.

✮Hobie🎸

General:

The switchest spider to walk the Earth, I dare you to fight me on this/j

So chill on both fronts. He just goes with the flow.

Has magic “can say the t-word whenever” powers, loves abusing them.

Absolute menace in tickle fights. He’ll either kick your ass, or fluster the hell out of you while you attempt to wreck him.

If anyone’s in a mood, lee or ler, Hobie’s their best bet.

Lee:

Okay, so…he definitely is open to being wrecked by his friends.

One of them has a killer ler mood? Hobie’s here to help. He’s gonna be all teasy about it, but it’s quickly replaced with giggles.

When he’s just straight-up in a lee mood, he can ask with next to no problems. Coincidentally, he “accidentally” flusters his ler more often than not.

If he just doesn’t feel like asking, he’ll put on a crop top, rest his arms behind his head, and wait for someone to get a ler mood or try something.

We can all agree that this smug bastard would try to fluster his ler, right?

Holding his arms up without being asked, telling them to keep going, how good they’re doing, “Ready when you are~”, teasing them for “staring,” the list goes on.

Worst spots are his feet, followed by his underarms and hips. He’s not always in the mood for footer tickles though, so the pits are your best shot.

Melt spots are his calves and palms. Mr. Guitar would adore some hand tickles, and the tall prick deserves some draw-backs.

Rumbly, base-sounding giggles if it isn’t that bad a spot. If it is, you’ll get loud, boisterous, scraggy laughter. Very fun to find and point out the differences to him, he’ll definitely appreciate it! ( ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )

Ler:

He has two sides, one very different from the other.

The first is gentle, comforting tickles. He won’t go too fast or vigorous, only upping the ante if you ask or seem ready.

“Those some cute giggles ya got there, mate. Glad you’re sharin’~”

“You’re adorable, ya know that? All blushes an’ squirms, but you ain’t said ‘stop’ once~”

The other is the one you should be terrified of.

Evil teases, immediate worst-spot tickles, keeps you laughing until you’re in tears (unless you tap out beforehand)

“Wha’s that? Oh, tickles, does it? Good, ya needed a laugh.”

“Man, you’re laughin’ pre’y hard. Blushin’, too. I didn’ know any better, I’d say yer enjoyin’ yourself~”

Either way, he listens to boundaries and stops whenever you ask/seem like you’re done. Boy is all about respect, in this sense anyway.

He definitely plays the lee-guitar game. Your ribs are now his strings. Might even get his pick out if he’s feeling really evil.

Changes up his methods for each lee (let’s stick with the gang’s regular moods here before I go on a tangent)

For Pav, he’s a smug asshole. Lots of fake-outs before he actually starts, continuously calls his reactions “fuckin’ adorable” to see him blush. No mercy until it’s needed.

With Miles, he’s a bit less evil. Mainly just teases him for being so ticklish and his blushes.

For Gwen, he’s rougher. She usually likes to forget her name, and he’s more than happy to help. Raspberries, teases, the whole nine. Whatever gets her cackling.

Amazing with aftercare. Will pull you into his lap for cuddles, and he gives incredible massages and back rubs. Praise for days if you need them, and even if you don’t, he’s happy to supply them.

🪷Pavitr☕

General:

Suuuuuch a sunshine boy I swearrrrrr ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

He gives lee-leaning switch. Loves getting his ass handed to him, but occasionally loves making his friends giggle and squeal.

Can admit that he likes both sides, though he can only say the t-word itself if he isn’t flustered.

Always up for helping one of his friends if they’re in a ler mood, and sometimes ready to wreck them for the greater good (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

Lee:

Loves being tickled, especially if he’s in a really bad lee mood.

Most of the time, he’ll whine to either Hobie or Gayatri that he’s “feeling fuzzy” and they’ll get the message. If he isn’t that worked up, he’ll flat out ask.

Very squirmy little worm, though he doesn’t flail like some of the others. Has accidentally headbutted before though, so careful if you’re messing with his neck.

Decently easy to fluster, though it takes a while to wreck him. You’ve gotta know exactly what you’re doing to really get him good (just ask Hobie or Miles, they’re loving narcs)

Worst spot is his belly, specifically his navel. Raspberries are killer for him there. Him and Gwen share a death spot and both torment each other with that knowledge.

Melt spots are his forearms and under his chin. Adorable to trace a few inches up from his pits and watch him dissolve. You can’t tell me he wouldn’t love some gentle tickles under his chin, can you? (answer: no)

Bright, bubbly, almost boyish giggles. Things get a lot pitchier when you really wreck him, squeaks and squeals coming in no short supply.

Ler:

Surprisingly formidable ler when the mood strikes him.

Most don’t suspect it to be that bad and give him full reign. They’re quickly proven wrong.

He respects boundaries of course, doesn’t ever go overboard. Takes breaks to check in and let his lee breathe every few minutes.

Loves to tease with compliments and praises. This is where he abuses his powers.

“Aww, your laugh is so cute! Who knew you’d be so ticklish?”

“That blush is just adorable, friend. You really have to show it more often!”

“I know, it really tickles here, huh? You’re doing great!”

If he’s feeling like a goober, he’ll play “Tickle Monster” and blow little raspberries on your belly. Might even make little “nom” noises while he does it to be a menace.

Loves giving tickle hugs. He’ll sneak up behind someone, koala-hug them and start wiggling his fingers into their sides. (Being short actually helps him there)

If one of his friends is upset or stressed, he’ll talk it out with them before suggesting a tickly cheer-up. If they don’t legitimately object, he’ll sweetly tease them until they’re all giggly and happy again.

SUPER sweet with aftercare. Cuddles, snacks, praises, and just general conversation. If you want to, he’d even be open to a nap.

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sigridstumb · 9 months

Text

Get out of my own way

There's a phrase that is new-ish to therapy models, one that I look at entirely askance because what is now termed "pathological demand avoidance" is what I have spent my life knowing as "self-sabotaging dumbass." In most of my life, I manage to avoid being a self-sabotaging dumbass. But in one area, that of cultural trends, it sometimes sets in. Usually to my loss and detriment.

It's just that, when I am barraged with a whole bunch of people all loving a thing at the same time (Tumblr amplifies this a LOT) it *irritates* me. This is asinine, and it makes ME the asshole were I to voice it, because oh my god, Sigrid, people love what they love! Do not squash joy in this parlous existence! But internally I resolve to never watch or read or listen to the thing in question.

Why? I dunno, because sometimes I am a self-sabotaging dumbass!

At any rate, after months of being vaguely irritated with the INTENSE love people have for Dimension 20 (it's not you! It's me! I have a problem! You go on and keep loving the shit out of what you love!) I finally saw a TikTok clip of the show Game Changer. And Brennan Lee Mulligan was hilarious and brilliant.

So, I sought out the show, Game Changer. Spouse and I both really enjoy it, and agree that Brennan is our favorite. I figure out that to watch more episodes, I should subscribe to Dropout.tv. I do, and suddenly realize that Brennan Lee Mulligan is that guy from Dimension 20 that everyone loses their goddamn minds over.

Oh. Oh!

I, with a sense of letting down some internal moral code and a pervasive feeling that I am doing something shameful, watch the first episode of Dimension 20: Fantasy High. It is, as literally everyone (not literally, obviously) already knows, very very good.

I am hooked! I have become One Of Those People! And, Sigrid, the only thing keeping you from enjoying this all along was your own self-sabotaging dumbassery!! Argh!!

ANYWAY.

For those of you who do not know, you are one of Today's Lucky 10,000.

Firstly, Dropout.tv is a comedy troupe formed out of the wreckage of College Humor when it imploded. There is a core group of, I'm not sure, 12-20 people, and they invite guests. The group does a variety of different web tv shows, some of them game shows, some skit comedy, and a great deal of table-top role playing game based improvisational theater. The members are actors, impressionists, writers, voice actors, musicians, and very skilled improv comedians.

Dimension 20 is the umbrella name for the 30-ish different TTRPG campaigns they have filmed. They play in different genres, there are a handful of GMs (though Brennan does a LOT of them,) and the player group composition shifts around a lot. In later seasons, there are nerd celebrity guests.

We, the viewer, are watching people play AD&D 5th edition. That's it, that's the show.

Except it is not at all the show! Here are some points I was not expecting:

- The production values are great. The props, the miniatures, the sound effects, the models of the combat areas, it's all great. It's the dream TTRPG set-up of my teenage years. - The people are voice actors. They are fantastic. They inhabit their characters, and it is fantastic to watch. Also, Brennan Lee Mulligan as GM does all the non-player characters. He does voices for ALL of them. - These people are all IMPROV COMEDIANS. Whatever the others say, they roll with it. Unexpected things happen constantly, both because of the dice rolls and also just because players are unpredictable, and everyone picks up the event and carries on. - They are actually playing a game, so much of what happens in controlled by rolls of dice. And everyone is pretty damn good about this. They make it work, they make the plot continue, using whatever the dice has given them to work with. They are SO much better at it than any of the gaming groups I was in! - The episodes I have seen so far are all good-natured in vibe. The people playing want everyone to have fun. They want the GM to have fun, the players to have fun, and the audience to have fun. There's no sniping except in the most friendly way, there's no sulking about bad rolls, there's no vibe-kills that I have seen.

Anyway, if you like improv comedy, if you like voice actors performing SF/F plays live, if you like other people's TTRPGs, Dimension 20 might also be for you.

#Dimension 20 #brennan lee mulligan #pathological demand avoidance #pda #pda autism #actuallyautistic #autistic #ttrpg #dropout tv

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george-weasleys-girl · 1 month

Text

North Star Series

Chapter 51 - The Chapter That Shall Not Be Named

(i.e., I couldn't think of a decent title, and you wonderful people have been patiently waiting an insanely long time for this, so I'm posting it anyway)

Start here:

Summary: The weight of the war takes it toll.

Warnings: a couple of curse words, not the happiest of chapters, only did one quick proofread instead of the 97,438 proofs I usually do

~•~

Sunday nights were quiet at the Weasley twins' household. Except for the occasional explosion accompanied by an earth-shattering boom, followed by raucous yelling and laughter emanating from the boys' workroom.

It was, in other words, experimentation night. When most of the twins' inventions were created. And since the store was closed on Mondays, they usually didn't stumble into bed until the sun was cresting the horizon. A fact that George was quite happy about these days because it meant no nightmares. He'd found sleeping during the day so much easier. There was just something about the sunlight peeking through the closed curtains that held his damned fears at bay.

~•~

Fred stretched and gave a jaw-cracking yawn. "Looks like you and Y/N had fun last night."

"We have fun every night," George responded with a cheeky grin.

"Well, with those monumental suitcases under your eyes, I'd say you had extra fun." Fred waggled his eyebrows at his twin, then turned his attention back to the prototype in his hands.

The younger twin chewed on his bottom lip for a few seconds before speaking. His lack of sleep was a subject he'd not yet brought up to his twin. And he wasn't entirely sure it was worth the bother. They were just stupid dreams, after all.

"Sales have really gone up for the - " George blurted out.

"Nope." Fred interrupted and leaned back in his chair.

"Nope? What do you mean, nope?" The younger twin eyed his brother.

"Don't try to change the subject."

"Well, I'm certainly not regaling the details of my sex life to you."

"And thank Godric for that!" Fred chuckled. "Besides, I know this isn't about your sex life."

"Oh?" George crossed his arms. "So what's it about, then?"

Fred mirrored his twin's movement and added his trademark smirk to the effect. "Hell, if I know. But I do know that look. It means something's wrong. And I'm pretty damn certain it has nothing to do with dancing the horizontal mambo."

~•~

Fred flopped onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Then he stared at the clock.

2:42 am.

So much for a decent night's sleep tonight.

He'd knocked off early, feigning tiredness in the hopes that George could catch up on his sleep.

It worried him. His twin's nightmares.

Despite all his bravado, Fred held no illusions to the realities of war. Though it wasn't himself he was worried about. Not really. Of course, the possibility of his own demise had crossed his mind a time or two and while he certainly didn't want to die, if it came down to the wire, he'd take the killing blow for those he loved any day of the week.

Except... how could he leave George?

The thought haunted him, always lingering there in the back of his mind. Ever since they were little, he'd taken care of his twin brother. It was his mission in life. And he knew, deep down, that Y/N would take up the mantle, should the worst happen. But still, he needed to hear her say the words.

Fred sighed and looked at the clock again.

3:07.

"Well," he muttered to himself. "There's only one thing for it."

Stretching, he rolled out of bed and plodded into the kitchen. Maybe some nibblies and a shot or two of firewhiskey would calm him. He needed a few hours of sleep, at least, before having a little chat with Y/N.

~•~

Y/N slouched back in her chair, her eyes scanning the array of dots and squiggles covering the parchment on her desk. She and Callie had been writing to each other in their own personal code since their third year at Ilvermorny. Over Christmas break of that year, Callie's older brother had swiped one of their letters, which revealed his little sister's crush on one of his friends which he then proceeded to read out loud in front of said friend.

Callie was mortified and barely left her bedroom for the rest of the holiday. That's when Y/N decided they needed a better way to communicate.

Neither of them had ever expected it would become a matter of life or death.

Y/N sighed and folded up the letter and slipped it into the envelope, placing a stamp neatly onto the top left corner. She missed the days of just dropping her mail off a few doors down at the International Floo to be whisked away across the Atlantic.

But now, with Deatheaters intercepting the mail, it was just too much of a risk. So, muggle mail it was.

Now for the hard part...

Y/N grabbed another piece of parchment.

Dear Gran, she began. Then, put down her pen and massaged her forehead. Writing to her grandma these days felt like one big extravagant lie. Thus far, Y/N'd managed to keep the war hidden from her, even managing to keep it secret during her visit to England for the wedding, thanks to her husband's last minute suggestion that they conveniently move the festivities to a secluded farmhouse in the north of Scotland.

"Sorry, we can't take you to visit the shop," Y/N had apologized.

"Oh nonsense," her Gran waved her off. "I'm here to see my only granchild marry the love of her life. That's the most important thing. I'll see everything next time."

And that was something else that worried her.

While Y/N certainly appreciated her Gran's easy-going attitude on the matter, she'd still expected a little push-back. Yet, her Gran's usual feistiness was noticeably absent. And as much as she wanted to agree with Callie and George's reassurances that her grandma had probably just been exhausted from the whole excursion, having just hopped off her millionth cruise and pretty much straight onto the plane, Y/N couldn't rid herself of the nagging thought that time and age were finally catching up with her beloved grandmother.

She sighed and rubbed a hand over her face. Things would be so much easier if Gran just lived nearby. Maybe after the war, Y/N considered, she could convince her to move here. Perhaps set her up in a little cottage or something.

'If there's anything left after...'

The thought trickled through Y/N's mind unbidden and she shook it off with an irritated huff, picking up her pen again.

Things are going great... (her marriage was indeed going great, so that wasn't a total lie).

Business is booming... (also not a lie, just never mind that it was government contracts for magical Britain's war machine that was keeping it afloat).

My research... she started, then erased it.

Best leave her illegal activities out in case the letter fell into the wrong hands. After a long lull, things had picked back up again thanks to the recent acquisition of a couple vials of muggle blood, courtesy of her former mentor's muggle wife during their brief sojourn in London.

The weather's been nice...

With a groan, Y/N tossed down the pen again, oblivious to how it bounced across the table and onto the floor.

"Bullshit! Bullshit! Bullshit! Who gives a fuck about the weather?" She demanded of the empty room and let her eyes fall back down to the parchment, scanning the words. The whole damn thing read like a fucking form letter, and she hated it. But what else could she do? She couldn't tell her Gran the truth. The truth that they were at war. The truth that every day had become a strategic game of survival.

After a few quiet weeks, kidnappings and killings were on the rise again. And no one knew why.

Maybe her stupid magic 8-ball could give her some answers. Y/N had picked up the toy at muggle joke shop while on an outing with George shortly after her return to England.

"What is Voldemort planning?" She asked and shook it.

Reply hazy, try again later.

She sighed, rolling her eyes and absentmindedly reached for the pen that wasn't there, when a soft knock sounded on the lab door, followed by Fred's grinning face poking in. "Hey, Y/N, got a minute?"

"You're up early," she said, blinking in surprise. It was rare indeed for Fred to be up and about before George. "What's up?"

"I wanted to talk to you about George and... well... his nightmares."

~•~

"Ah, the nightmares," Y/N nodded, waving him in. She'd been expecting this conversation.

Fred pulled up the spare chair and jumped right to the point. "How bad are they? How often are they happening? Is there anything I can do?" He asked in rapid fire succession. "George tried to play them off like they're nothing. But I know better."

Y/N exhaled a long sigh. "Two or three times a week. They're always intense. He wakes up shaking and sweating." She leaned forward a little. "They're far from nothing, Fred. The thought of losing someone he loves terrifies him. Especially you."

Fred gave another nod. "And you." His eyes softened a little, and the corners of his lips quirked up. "I'm glad you found each other. You're so good for him. And to him. And I know you'll take care of him if something happens to me."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat. Fred wasn't one to wear his heart on his sleeve or anywhere else on his clothes, for that matter. He buried it deep within him, hidden under a maze of jokes and witty diversions. The fact that he'd even brought it up meant he'd been thinking about it, and it worried him. Maybe even scared him a little. But he'd never admit to that. Not even to himself.

"Nothing's going to happen to you," Y/N spoke slowly, enunciating every word, as if that would somehow make it so.

Fred shook his head, and his eyes shifted down and away from her gaze for the briefest of moments before darting back up with their usual mischievous glint. Then, he leaned forward, motioning her closer. "Ok, what I'm about to tell you is a big secret, so don't tell anybody," he said in a conspiratoral whisper. "But even the great and powerful Fred Weasley can be hurt."

Y/N opened her mouth to speak. But he continued on with a stare that bore straight into her soul. "And I just want to make sure that if something happens to me George is taken care of."

It wasn't a request.

"You know I'll take care of him," Y/N said. "I promise."

"Good," he stood and stretched, a crooked grin playing across his features. "I'll see what I can do to help with those pesky nightmares. We'll get Georgie dreaming sweet dreams again in no time.

"Okay... thanks, Fred," Y/N said, pasting on a smile.

He nodded, still grinning, and bounded out.

Y/N sat stone still, watching him go, a sinking weight settling deep in the pit of her stomach.

~•~

@milivanili99 @slytherclaw1978 @quackitysdrugdealer @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @fancy-pantaloons @samberriejams @totalwitch2 @aslanvez @mrsgweasley @morally-grey-obsessed @asuperconfusedgirl @hmisa11 @superduckmilkshake @junerprsh @wolfkill16 @kaysau2510 @planetkt @thankyouforanonymity @thatonepersonwhocantwrite

@Smallsweetvanillabean @hanne-montana @greenapplegrass @yoursarahg @marvelgirlstories @ceehance @whotfskai @sierraluvzz @now-that-we-dontalk @moonatician @lillisummers @niktwazny303 @bohemianrhapsody86

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x fem!reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x you #north star series

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mikelogan · 2 months

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hi, this edit is cool, would you please tell me how do you make the circle shape and text like that in the second gif?

https://mikelogan.tumblr.com/post/727834848573669376/forgiveness-is-warm-like-a-tear-on-a-cheek-think

hi!! i'm so sorry this took me so long to answer, but i've hardly been on my desktop for the last couple months and haven't been giffing. finally getting around to this and thank you for the kind words!

in this tutorial, i'll show you what i did as well as another way to achieve the same effect:

once you've made your gif and colored it the way you want, you can get the circle effect one of two ways. i'll show you how i did it first and then a more "normal" way lol

i actually had this circle texture laying around and for whatever reason, i decided to use that. so i popped that onto the canvas and used ctrl+T to center it both vertically and horizontally

then i used a glitter texture over the top of the circle layer and applied a clipping mask so that the glitter only shows up on the circle and not the entire gif. to do this, make sure your glitter (or whatever texture you decide to use) layer is ABOVE the circle and then right-click on the glitter layer and select "create clipping mask." you should see this lil arrow on the layer now:

as a quick note about textures/overlays: chances are that if you just google "glitter texture png" or something similar, you'll find tons, but the png portion is important because pngs have transparent backgrounds. this wouldn't work if the circle texture was a jpeg because its background is not transparent and the overlaying of the glitter texture would appear on every pixel, basically just taking the shape of the entire jpeg rather than just the circle.

i have a resources (basically anything downloadable, from overlays to actions to psds) tag on my gifmaking sideblog as well as one specifically for textures and overlays. i also utilize the websites freepik, pngegg, and pngwing for pngs (especially freepik).

to make the glitter layer the same pink/purple color i used, i ended up using a hue/saturation layer above it and also applied a clipping mask to that layer so it only affected the glitter layer. this step is totally optional depending on the coloring you're going for. you might be happy with the glitter texture exactly as it is. you could also skip the hue/saturation layer and instead apply a color overlay to the glitter layer, select the color you want, and set it to screen or another similar blending mode. to do this, double-click on the glitter layer, select color overlay from the menu, choose whatever color you want, make sure the opacity is set to 100%, and adjust the blend mode to whatever you think looks best.

the "normal" way to do the circle would just be to use the ellipse tool (right-click on the rectangle tool and choose ellipse) and input your desired dimensions. to get a perfect circle, the width and height have to be the same as one another. then you'd continue on with the rest of the process.

for the text, create your main text layer. these were my settings for a 540px canvas:

i also added a drop shadow to the layers with these settings (double-click the text layer to bring up this menu):

then i duplicated the text layer 6 times. select the first duplicated layer (the second line), use ctrl+T and your arrow keys (i only used the down arrow) to move the text down the desired amount of space. i made sure i moved each line down exactly 25 pixels, which is equal to 25 presses of the down arrow. i just think it looks nice when they're equally spaced. with each subsequent layer, i just dropped the opacity.

starting with the original text layer, i used: 100% -> 80% -> 60% -> 40% -> 20% -> 10% -> 5%, but this was just my personal preference.

anyway, that's pretty much it! but if you have any additional questions on this tutorial or any other set, just send me a message and i'll do my best to get to it much quicker than this one 💙

#answered #Anonymous #gif tutorial #gifmakerresource #typography tutorial #overlay tutorial

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littlethingwithfeathers · 8 months

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I'm grumpy about Silent Hill again...

TW for discussions of suicide, self harm, abuse (both parent to child and amongst peers) and general spookiness. Y'know... the usual Silent Hill rigmarole of trauma and despair. Also be warned that I'm going to spoil a lot of the Silent Hill series, in particular Silent Hill 2 and the Short Message game that just came out. ***

So... one of my most popular posts out there is this one. It's about Pyramid head and the loss of subtlety in media. And I couldn't help but feel like we hadn't moved an inch from when I posted that back in... *checks date on post* hrrk. my bones... 2017. I'm going to die soon. Anyway. Today I watched Second Wind do a run of the short, free-to-play Silent Hill: Short Message. I admittedly had a good bit of trepidation going in just because of the marketing. Which, for all of you marketing majors out there, that is called "Not a good sign." Marketing should make you want to play a game... especially if you're a fan of the series already. But this... it was a bit of a wet blanket, largely due to the fact that it spoiled a lot of the focus of the game. It basically said "this is a game about how bullying and being chronically online is real bad. We're gonna be spooky about it now." And... straining to push aside how incredibly reductive that is... why give it away? Why say it out loud? Why did you tell us what you are doing? Can you imagine Silent Hill 2 if we'd known it was about James killing his wife from the jump? We didn't. We hadn't the first clue. We knew nothing other than that he was looking for her and she was maybe dead? But we didn't know how... possibly lung cancer or TB given that she had the most pointed coughing sequence since the movie Tombstone. And hey... the last game had someone looking for a loved one too. Maybe that's the deal with Silent Hill. Who knows? No one did at that point. It was still a big old mystery for the most part. And then the E3 trailer... like there's the weird pretty lady in jail? But what's she talking about? Who the fuck is Mary? Is that... his wife? Well then who the hell is Ms. Miniskirt? No wait... is that his wife in the VHS tape? What the hell is going on? Oh look gameplay! And... a little girl? And a weird guy with a gun... This soundtrack slaps. I'm gonna go see if it's up on Napster yet. (this was 2001... again... my bones etc) I remember combing over low-res copies of that video for HOURS when it came out. Why are the nurses different? It's not snowing? Who are all these people... And why do they all sound like they put ketamine in their coffee. It was like a great big puzzle to work out and we had a ball theorizing and researching so when it came out we were HYPE. And that was largely because in short... we knew SOME things at release. Fog. Nurses. Big stick. Weird people. Banger soundtrack. Dead (but probably not) wife. And we presumed or supposed more... cult activity? New beasties? Radio maybe? But we effectively knew nothing about the plot. And the best part was, while they had a solid hook (Find dead lady who we love so huggy buggy much) and instant intrigue (Angela in the cemetery being weirder than a film by David Lynch), and a very familiar setting (we may have improved draw distance on the PS2, but we don't have to use it!), we still didn't really know what was going on. The plot was essentially unfolding out of a black box. Silent Hill 2 was quite content to be a slower burn than trying to boil the Lake Superior with a signal flare. You don't even see the main "villain" Pyramid Head until a few hours in and, as I pointed out in that other post, there's no flashy cut scene to introduce him and go WOOOOOO SCARYYYYY. He's just chillin' behind some prison bars (which that totes is normal in an apartment complex) and staring at you like I stare at the inside of my fridge when I really would like some cheese to materialize.

And then... like we're not even really sure what the hell is going on for the longest time. We meet our wife's hot twin with the key to a strip club and she keeps getting killed over and over... and things keep getting increasingly rapey and lewd in a way that's just uncomfortable more than anything... But even at the end. Even with the big reveal of "You killed your wife." they still don't ever explicitly state "And you killed her because you couldn't have sex with her anymore." It wasn't until you finished the game, and talked to someone else about it, or let your brain cook on it for a bit that you went... heyyyy... he's a horndog! (In fact... if I'm going to chide SH2 for anything it's that right at the very VERY end they tried to frame James's actions as understandable because the woman who was dying and frightened and in pain was mean to him. Yes, being a caretaker is hard. But Christ... pick a topic for discussion.) But contrast all that with Short Message. The marketing and such all said out loud "THIS IS ABOUT BULLYING" so even going in... I was already like "yep. The bully is probably us, but we had reasons because we have to be complicated and you aren't allowed to make the player feel bad" And lo was I correct. There was no... intrigue. I was never curious about the character or the people around her because I knew this story. They already told me what story they were telling so I could practically sing along, especially as a millennial that had to grow up watching little videos and skits in school about the evils of bullying. And when you are going to tell a trope-ish story, and you tell the audience what the trope is, it becomes "say the line" writ large. This isn't me advocating for super twisty unexpected plot arcs (looking at you, Supernatural). Far from it. You absolutely should tell a story in such a way that the audience understands how you got from point A to point Z, even if there are some surprises along the way (See Sixth Sense for that masterclass). Rather, what I'm missing from this (and frankly a lot of the Silent Hill games and honestly... media in general these days) is a sense of restraint. A sense of trust in their audience to "get it." They can't just plonk us in the fog with a radio and a stick and say "You're here to find your best friend/dog/cousin/wife/business partner. Good luck. Here's a weirdo to prattle cryptically at you in order to unsettle you immediately. Bye!" No! They have to tell us what kind of story they're telling and what themes are important. They can't just... give us a Silent Hill Game and trust that we know what to do with it. It's... insulting frankly. Especially as a longtime fan of the franchise who remembers when they did trust us and they did have faith in their work. I will say this in compliment to Short Message. The environment design was pretty cool. Especially the sticky-note hallways... they looked like leaves... and sometimes teeth... and like tightly packed bones in an ossuary. It didn't... say anything really. But it looked cool. And you can't go wrong with Akira Yamaoka's soundtrack. But... while I'm on the subject of design. Y'all. An animate sakura tree in an oversized hoodie is not scary. But bless you for at least having the restraint to not make her Pyramid Head.

#silent hill #silent hill 2 #silent hill 4 #silent hill short message #horror #writing #story telling #suspense #video games #video game design #horror games

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powderblueblood · 7 months

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You know what's just burrowed into my head? given how often poor Camilla was forced to say the word daddy on that show it made me picture lacy saying it to Eddie but in that I'm clearly making fun of you, I'm not into that stuff kind of way but he's our beloved pervy loserboy so of course he short circuits over it anyway. I hope she finds out just how much of a perv he can be now that they've done the do. I mean the whole thing with her pen in the very first chapter? and the shower scene when she had to stay over? I would love to know how she'd react

18+ MINORS DNI i accidentally went crazy on this? god bless you anon happy valentines day

l i t erally she is shoving eddie out the door of the newspaper room after a heavy makeout session where she's got him all wound up and whining on purpose, sing-songing something like, "c'mon, hurry up! everyone in the drama room is gonna be looking around that dungeon, wondering where-oh-where is daddy?"

and eddie just shoves himself between the jamb and the closing door (painfully, for a multitude of reasons) (reasons pertaining to his cock) and hits lacy with the prey animal stare.

"huh? come again?" you'd like that wouldn't you badum tsss etc

but lacy like, knows and like, eats it right up, the way she draws out every syllable with a dirty little mockery of a snarl.

"better run along now, da-a-addy."

eddie manages to wrangle her in for one last kiss, stomach all butterflies and dick all cardiac arrest, "i'm gonna get you for that," and lacy's squealing into his ear, "and your little kitty too! shit! evil!"

"first and last time you'll ever hear it, i guarantee you!" liar!

but, evil actually comes in the form of lacy lifting a pair of her panties from the glovebox of the van later that night.

"hello? have you been doing my laundry or what?"

eddie gets a laceful in the face as she flings them at him. immediate snow white blush on his cheeks, this guy, because he's still toeing the line of being a little bit of a pervert with her. testing the waters. though, she had perched in his lap and watched him jerk off the other day, after specifically asking to which naturally made him cum neatly under the runtime of zeppelin's dazed and confused.

i wanna see how you do it. how do you touch yourself when you're thinking about me?

and she'd been all sweet, tits out and skirt on, running her hand up his chest as he pumped his cock in his fist (he hadn't been allowed to touch her), telling him how pretty he was, how much she liked watching him make himself feel good. eyes never leaving him. studying him like SAT prep. not putting as much as a fingertip on herself, but squirming against his thigh.

this is about me, he realized, heart warming, dick throbbing. she wants to make it about me.

eddie had cum, and had possibly narrowly avoided a hemorrhage of the brain due to how fucking hot that was, and was soon springing to back to life in lacy's palm. she had that effect on him; just when he thought he was spent, boom, he is risen.

he needed a solid fifteen minutes to process the aftershocks after she rode him til both their eyes were streaming, lacy stroking his hair and pretending like she wasn't trembling as much as he was.

if that girl isn't careful. he swears to god. wedding bells. big 'uns.

but. anyway. panties. panties he had been actively using as a gag when he jerked off on the rare occasions she couldn't come meet him. sure. whatever.

"you must've left 'em here!" eddie shrugs (wide-eyed, beautiful, you know the vibes), tossing them back at her, to which lacy rolled her fanned-out mascara'd eyes.

"and walked around commando? when have you ever known me to do that, smartass?"

true. she liked making him take off her panties with his teeth too much, and he liked watching the way she slid them back on. that little jump she did that made her ass shake.

which could be a part of the whole stuffing them in his mouth thing. listen, he didn't have time to ruminate on it.

guilty as all hell, he shrugs again, slapping his hands on the wheel. but eddie's heart is like, hammering. was that a step too far? nabbing her panties out of her room the last time he'd snuck in there?

there's this silence in the van for a couple beats that he hates, even though lacy resumes looking for a tape in the glovebox she's probably never gonna find.

"you know," she goes, eyes downcast, "if you wanted to borrow a pair, you could've just asked."

a stutter in the air. she knows just how to make his record scratch.

"whassat now?" eddie leans in, gripping the steering wheel for dear life.

"you heard me," and her mercurial eyes flash at him, gaze drawing down his body in that way that makes him sure he knows what it's like to do heroin without ever having tried it.

"just, tell me if you ever wanna try 'em on," lacy smiles, and eddie smiles, and eddie also dies somewhat, "i wanna see how cute you look when you're hard in them."

and look, we haven't even begun to think about lacy's reaction the first time he jokingly calls her mommy.

#powder room talk #Anonymous #e. munson by powder #edlacy #hai brainrot #father john misty voice je ee e esus christ girl

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mdhwrites · 9 months

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Do you think it's a bit odd how muddy the premise of TOH is?

I can sum up the premise of other similar shows I've watched in one sentence to any hypothetical viewer going in blind. SU: A chubby boy struggles to master his own power, identity, and goodness while navigating complex family dynamics, old wounds, and sick sci-fi technomagic. Amphibia: Three girls search for each other, stretch their friendship to its limits, and find a way back home in a wacky land populated by amphibians. She-Ra: An imperialist soldier turned rebel fights to free her homeland from occupation whilst struggling with the unique bond she shares with her frenemy.... etc!

I'm just not sure what I could say for TOH. A girl runs away from home to be mentored by a wild witch? But she doesn't really get mentored, and she didn't exactly run away either (she just... didn't go home until it was too late.) A girl leaves her home dimension to enroll in a magic school - hm, but that wasn't really something she super duper cared about, it was just part of the witch gimmick for her.

What else?? A human enters a land of witches, only to discover sinister scheming from the only other human to genocide - which - he's 400-ish too, so, uh, that proves that... colonialism... um.. religion... Let's restart. A human enters witchland and discovers things are not as they seem - no, things are pretty much as they seem-

A closeted girl is thrust into a new world in which she can be herself, and catches the eye of a popular rich girl? Hey, that's not too bad, except it ignores a whole lot of other shit that went down.

How about: A girl enters a wacky land that fulfills her dream of living a fantasy to a T, including the unpleasant parts of the genre.

...Yeah, I guess that's the closest I'm getting. Anyway, what d'you think about TOH's premise? Is it clear to you?

So when I bring up that TOH has a split personality problem, this is what I'm talking about. It effectively is trying to tell three different stories, with three different tones. Any one would be good on its own. Any two would need some finesse but they had plenty of time. All three? Well, even disregarding time constraints, you would have had to be really smart in mixing all three elements in order to make something cohesive as keeping them all separate for longer would simply create the same problem as keeping them apart for a short time does.

And TOH doesn't even fucking try. The literal only element that consistently ties all three story ideas together is Luz. I'll get into it more in a second but this is part of why when you pitch the show to someone, you kind of just have to focus the entire description on Luz in one way or another. To mention any of the other elements causes you to inherently imply one is more important than the others and TOH never chose anything to prioritize.

But of course, what were the three stories trying to be told and with what tones? And I'll talk about how it handles each of them weaving into one another once I've just established a baseline for each.

Well, first we have the slice of life, comedy, coming of age story that is Luz, Eda, King and Lilith. Especially in S1, most hijinks with them are focused around blunt morality, hijinks and just dealing with a problem of the day. It is the most bluntly kid's show of any of them, adopting a lot of the tone of Amphibia. This is why we get so many B plots with King that are the same thing over and over again. It's why Lilith and Eda are on opposite sides of the law but they don't fight until the end but instead are just nice, silly sisters here for hijinks. It's also part of why Lilith is made into a joke in S2 because that is more keeping in line with the tone of this storyline than if she were to actually what happened to her seriously and mixed in with:

The second is a fantasy epic about the corruption of a world by hate and prejudice. Of one man's corrupted beliefs of religion and want for control ruining a land. It is a much darker toned story, meant to reflect the horrors of the real world and its prejudices. This is the plot of Belos and Hunter. It is also the plot that is the smallest part of TOH but should have been the most omnipresent due to how so much of it is tied strictly into the worldbuilding. A lack of world building easily makes this sort of story, like most dystopians, fall completely apart. It also is the one that requires the most adherence to it as conflicting elements makes this story feel all the weaker each time someone treats this existential threat as nothing to be worried about.

The third is the most obvious: The school drama/romance story. This one is probably the one actually trying to be the most concise due to how almost every element for a season and a half of this plot is dedicated just to the weird girl/serious girl romance. It's a classic and one I've iterated on multiple times myself as it's just a fun concept to handle.

So there you go. Three ideas that are each on their own a good story but have their own complications. Each one of these could have easily taken two seasons to properly explore and tell. With more efficient storytelling, any of them could have taken a single season or less.

But then you get the exponential problem of mixing them together. Because mind you, tonally you have a comedy slice of live, a romantic drama, and a dark epic. Those are VASTLY different genres for each tonally and in narrative intent.

The easiest combo is actually the first and second. This is actually what Amphibia is effectively. The show starts in a somewhat isolated part of the world so its lighter tone can not contrast with the darker epic that is to come, giving it a safe space for character development, relationships, etc. Then with each threat, it gets a little more serious with its tone. There's a reason Hop Pop buries the box in S1 but the confrontation about what that means isn't until S2. There's a reason why S3B of Amphibia is MARKEDLY more serious than anything that came before it. The strength of this combo is that when the darker elements show up, the contrast of what came before makes them hit all the harder and makes you care about the stakes.

So what about how TOH handles it? Well, Lilith and Eda are theoretically a blend of the two but Lilith is never treated quite seriously enough. Also, rather than it being ideological, it comes across more personal with those two and it kind of leaves Belos out of it for the entirety of the first season, especially due to how wishy washy the show is about the covens being a big deal. Then in S2, Lilith absolutely SHOULD be the connective tissue. Her and Luz share a similar anger towards Belos and the two acting on that anger is a way to show that hate in any form is destructive, playing on the grander themes of the epic side of it while bringing in The Owl Family.

Instead, Lilith is just kind of flicked away, rendering any connective tissue from S1 to just evaporate, especially as no one actually seems to have cared about Belos almost murdering Eda. Rather, Raine is the connective tissue for the two plotlines. You know, the character who never gets to meaningfully interact with Luz or King, nor actually has a role in potentially pulling Luz to different ways of learning like Lilith might have, meaning they don't interact with the mentor side either. Even in their first episode, Raine is entirely self contained away from the other two. Eda and King's closest contribution to the plot before S3 is honestly in trying to get info out of Warden Wrath and that's really it. Otherwise, they're entirely divorced from Belos, his philosophy and his machinations.

So next easiest combo: The grand epic mixed with the school setting. This is how you get things like S3 of RWBY, My Hero Academia or Harry Potter (Though HP sucks dick at it too because good old Joanne sucks both at being a good person and actually writing anything serious.) The school setting is used as a kind of safe space for drama, romance and teenage shenanigans while the dark elements allow those things to come to a fever pitch as well as a way to test the bonds made at school versus the grand threat's hate and evil. It's hard to make smooth though, if the fact that I listed two things with... questionable plot writing to put it mildly isn't indicative. It at least has been done before. Oh, Naruto pre-Shippuden could possibly also be counted as this.

And TOH mixes these two by... Hunter? That really is the closest it ever comes to mixing them. The school is easily the part that obliterates taking Belos' regime or themes seriously as it constantly, CONSTANTLY undermines the worldbuilding of the show and struggles to actually feel like a part of the grander society. None of the Hexside Squad members ever properly face what being a wild witch or ditching the coven system actually means after all. Amity literally treats it as something that will mildly disappoint her parents but isn't a big deal.

So all you really have is Sport in a Storm and Labyrinth Runners as at least those episodes are using the school setting to give Hunter a chance to make friends and become a better person, theoretically, and he's important to the epic storyline so that kind of counts. If you REALLY want to stretch it, Eclipse Lake is another point of crossover before all three plotlines are mashed together starting at Clouds on the Horizon but the only justification there is that Amity is from the school stuff, though it's closer to fitting the tone and tropes of the mentor's storytelling than that of the school's.

But that is still three... In almost 38 episodes.

The last one is easily the most awkward and the one I don't have examples for: Mixing the Mentor and School plotlines. It's actually pretty easy to see why this would be hard. Both are about teaching the main character but in different ways. I think you could claim some works have done this by having a specific teacher be the primary teacher/mentor for the main character while the school is just where that mentor is accessed.

So how does TOH mix the-

Error 404.

Huh...

I'm not over exaggerating that much. Besides Teenage Abomination, VERY WEAKLY, the two never actually mix. Eda comes to Hexside once. King interacts with the Hexside kids a couple times but always in episodes or B plots that are much closer to the silly slice of life stuff than anything trying to mix the two tones. Even when it does, you get Really Small Problems where neither story is progressed and it all feels bad. Remember the closest that Eda comes to ever being a part of fixing a school problem is in Understanding Willow where she's just a spell dispenser before then being an idiot for Gus. It doesn't make her look better or play with any of the themes. The next closest is during The First Day where she is isolated entirely in her own plot so it's not actually mixing it besides the fact that Eda is at the school.

And for all three?

Well... I think the best way to point this out is that the best example of all three plots coming together is Edric deciding to expand his knowledge of magic. He actively chooses to reject what society has told him, tries a new method endorsed by the mentor figure but does at least acknowledge that his old schooling didn't prepare him for it. It's not strong and it's still hamstringing the epic storyline because he's already practicing two types of magics and so is mostly just nervous about being any good at this but it's SOMETHING.

But otherwise? The three shall never meet. Even once Clouds on the Horizon happens, they never meet. Eda literally never spends time with the Hexside Squad, especially as a whole. King is barely a part of the mentor stuff by then and is purely in the Epic territory and he's still not interacting much with them. Even in the final episode, the Hexside members are entirely on their own while Luz, Eda and King properly take out Belos, rather than everyone trying to protect Luz or having to fight by her side.

This sequestering of characters, themes, plotlines, etc. causes the show to waste a LOT of time and never have a proper focus. You never know what the point to a scene is because what it's serving is unclear, if it's serving anything at all. The show, by the end, can still have cut Amity and Hexside out entirely and lost literally nothing except much of what made the fandom engage with the show. And a reminder: Disney SUGGESTED Hexside. Dana said yes. It wasn't forced on her.

And that fits the show's entire storytelling ethos. It never feels like it is actually focusing on a single point. Instead, individual episodes will present interesting ideas or statements that immediately conflict or need to be retconned by other episodes because nothing is properly congruent. It is all conflicting against each other because each part is acting entirely independent of the rest.

It is an ever growing leviathan but rather than bringing in more of what is around it to make it stronger, it only ever hurts itself more and more as the details that once shone on its surface are made murky and unclear by all it has piled upon it until there is nothing but a rancid sludge. Unclear, unfocused and hard to describe except in the most blunt way possible. So what is the most blunt way to describe TOH?

The only factor that gets to cross all three storylines: Luz. So the only way to describe the show is "A story of a teenage girl going into a fantasy story." What type of fantasy story? Who knows. The writers didn't seem to after all so why should we?

======+++++======

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I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

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#the owl house criticism #toh critical #toh #the owl house

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dr-futbol-blog · 2 months

Text

The Siege I, Pt. 8

Sheppard is lying helpless on the ground as the wraith approaches him, having incapacitated him with a stun weapon. The wraith rips open his tactical vest preparing to drain his life-force when it, in turn, is stunned by Ford and Teyla, saving him in the nick of time.

Sheppard is not unconscious when the wraith comes for him, his tactical vest probably having absorbed some of the blast. He does seem to be fighting to stay conscious, though, able to only slightly move his head. Later, when Ford asks him how he is doing he describes the pins and needles that are the after-effect of the stunner, but we never learn what he was thinking or feeling right here, first at the mercy of the wraith and then having been saved by two members of his team that he has trained and watched grow into the roles they have now. It's only when he is sure that he's out of danger, that Ford and Teyla have got him, that Sheppard allows his consciousness to slip away.

I want to draw attention to how the scene is presented as an allegory for attempted sexual violence. The wraith and the Ancients seem to represent opposing Jungian archetypes, the Shadow and the Self, the Anima and the Animus, the feminine and the masculine, exaggerated depictions of different facets of the human soul. In spite of the majority of their population seeming to consist of male drones, the wraith represent the monstrous feminine, the horror feminae, what with their life-sucking vagina hands and the moist womb hives which they inhabit. It's really not that subtle:

I'm sure someone has written about this concept previously and I'm not sure I even want to pursue it further. But Sheppard is presented not unlike a victim of sexual assault in this scene, and I'll return to this later, but there are some indications that he has been victimized in his youth, by women. He seems not only incapable of turning down the advances of women but horrifyingly doesn't even seem to realize that he can say no, that his consent is even a factor.

Anyway, Sheppard is saved and they once more call attention to communication and communication devices, their role in the narrative, what with Ford's comment "You were on vox, sir. We heard the whole thing and double-timed it." Not only had the wraith been listening in on their communications, Ford and Teyla listening in is what saved him. A lot of attention is placed on communication via devices in this episode.

Back on the satellite, the wraith ships are closing in and McKay and Miller seem unable to get Grodin out because rerouting the power to the weapon shut down some of the systems that allowed for the jumper to dock with the station. Grodin tells them to leave him behind, which McKay seems reluctant to do.

McKay: I'll go back and reroute the power. Grodin: There isn't time for that. The wraith ships are too close. McKay: Yeah, well I know what I'm doing now. Grodin: Rodney. Leave me. McKay: Well, we're not doing that. Grodin: Look, get to a safe distance and then come get me once the satellite has taken care of the wraith ships. McKay: Peter... Grodin: It's the only option and you know it. Besides, this way I can power down the satellite until they're well within range. Then there'll be no way for the wraith to realise we brought it back online. McKay: Alright. We'll cloak, and come back for you after it's done. Grodin: After it's done, then.

What ever their relationship is, McKay still cares about him and doesn't feel good about this. Grodin manages to logic him into leaving him behind which does tell us that he knows McKay pretty well. McKay fully believes that they will be able to go back for him, that they are only temporarily leaving him on the platform and that the satellite will be able to take care of the ships. It's the rational thing to do and he is a man of reason. They have so much riding on this thing working out for them, there is no chance of aborting the mission at this point. They have to protect Atlantis because they are the only ones who can. But this does not sit well with him. Desperate times call for desperate measures, as he had pointed out himself some time ago.

On Atlantis, Sheppard once more is late to join the party, apparently coming straight from the infirmary to the brig area to see the incarcerated wraith.

Ford: Good to see you on your feet, sir. How're you feeling? Sheppard: You know, pins and needles. Hate getting stung by those damn things. Has he said anything yet? Ford: No sir, not yet. Sheppard: You got a name? OK--we'll go with Bob. Bob--I'm gonna need to know what you've been doing here for the past two weeks, and I'm gonna need to know now.

Sheppard names the wraith because it is an interrogation tactic, one which US Army doctrine perfected during their campaigns in Afghanistan. He establishes personal rapport and takes a swing at the wraith's pride and ego by giving it a human name, all at the same time. Sheppard appears to be well-versed in the utilization of these techniques. This is not his first time interrogating a wraith but this time, they are under a time-element and he is fully aware that he will be required to use some of the harsher methods. His tone is soft and conversational here, but there is a chilling undertone to it.

He told Weir in Poisoning the Well (S01E07) that since the wraith don't abide by the Geneva Convention, neither should he. But make no mistake, as much as he might hate and fear the wraith, he is doing this to get information out of it. What ever information this wraith possesses, they believe that the fate of the Earth may depend on it. And even more importantly, the fate of McKay may depend on it because if the wraith had known about their plans with the satellite in advance it means that McKay's team would be ambushed, the wraith would know what they were flying into.

At the same time on the other side of the solar system, the wraith armada has reached the LaGrange point satellite and Grodin, still inside the satellite, is preparing to launch the weapon as McKay and Miller watch on from the cloaked jumper. What is important here is that McKay is in contact with Atlantis, and very specifically the control room where Weir is. What they are talking about is obviously not broadcast to the prison area as allowing the wraith information about their operations would be counter-productive. So Sheppard and his crew are unaware of what is happening in the control room or the satellite that is in contact with them. All they know, if they are paying attention to the time (and Sheppard certainly seems to be in a hurry to get information out of the wraith) is that the armada should be approaching the satellite by now.

And the wraith is not talking.

Ford: I don't think he's in a very talkative mood, sir. Sheppard: Yeah. I need to know what he's been doing and whether or not he's been transmitting back to the hive ships. Ford: Wouldn't we have picked up a transmission? Sheppard: We can send secure messages--there's no reason he can't.

Again the importance of communication, of sending messages, is highlighted. Sheppard explicitly tells us what his motivation here is: to find out whether McKay's mission has been compromised, whether the wraith ships know that he was coming. He even mentions secure messages of which we haven't really seen any examples from them--at least in the main text. But he is telling us that he has the ability to send and receive secure messages, and it's entirely possible he has been making use of this capacity of late. Also the fact that these messages can be sent over vast distances is pointed out.

And once more we need to make note of the fact that Sheppard needs information from this wraith. Everything that he is doing here is designed to get information that he thinks is vital not only for their security, for the success of the mission McKay is on, but the survival of the Earth. He is desperate to get information out of the wraith. Desperate enough that he is finally even willing to let Teyla access the wraith psychic network in spite of what happened the last time she did, and even though he clearly thinks that it's a bad idea:

Teyla: Maybe I can try and connect with him. Sheppard: I don't think so. Teyla: If the Alpha Site has been compromised, Major, we need to know. Sheppard: OK, see what you can do.

Sheppard agrees to let her try even though it might not just be dangerous for her and all the people inside the room with her, it might reveal the wraith all of their plans if they should be able to access Teyla's mind. She points out that they need to know whether the Alpha Site has been compromised but by allowing her to attempt this, they may actually be putting the Alpha Site in jeopardy. That is how badly he thinks that they need this information. He personally needs that information. But it is noteworthy that it is her mentioning the Alpha Site that makes him relent, makes him allow for her to do this. The Alpha Site is what he stayed back for, after all. The Alpha Site is the reason he's not out there with McKay right now.

Teyla attempts to connect with the wraith but it seems to have the stronger mind, easily overtaking her. She seems unable to disconnect which prompts Sheppard to shoot the wraith twice to get it to stop. Not to injure it, certainly not to kill it, but to get it to disengage from Teyla. The wraith even tells him that it's not a big deal to it:

Bob: My wounds will heal. Sheppard: Yeah, but for how long? I need to know what you've done to this city. Listen, Bob, I have no problem with killing you whatsoever.

Sheppard shoots it a bunch more times because shooting it seems to at least have some kind of an effect. He is purposefully antagonizing the wraith both with his words and his gun. And he is getting more and more desperate. Not only does he need to know what this wraith knows about them, their defenses, their plans, about Earth, all of it, but he also needs to know what the wraith are doing right now out there, whether their armada has reached the weapons platform, what is happening with McKay. He needs to know.

He tells the wraith that he has no problem killing it, and this is true. He doesn't consider the wraith people or even enemy combatants. They are sentient creatures that are not beasts but something even worse than that, they are actual monsters. He would gladly kill each and every one of them and not feel bad about it. He wouldn't lose a wink of sleep over it. He is not lying when he tells him this.

But killing the wraith is not what he is planning on doing. It's what he says, not what he intends. He is utilizing an interrogation tactic. He is threatening the wraith to get information out of it. That is the most important thing, that is his goal. He had no intention of executing the wraith, not even after he would have gotten all the information out of it, as having a prisoner might come in handy for all kinds of reasons. It's leverage, it's potential for studying them, a possible hostage, a chance to learn more about the wraith. Even though he has no problem killing them whatsoever, he had no intention of killing Bob.

He is using the gun because that seems to be the only thing that is able to get a response from it. So while he isn't lying, the reason he tells the wraith this is to intimidate it into giving up information. He has run out of patience and is willing to move from interrogation to... enhanced interrogation, to straight up torture (and the Air Force has a particularly dark history in the creation of many of these methods reverse-engineering them from their own survival training). During the administration of when the show aired, worse things than what Sheppard does here were actually officially sanctioned although not necessarily broadcast on the evening news.

At the same time, Grodin who is still inside the satellite, manages to take out one of the hive ships. McKay informs Atlantis and the control room cheers for this victory. Maybe there's hope after all.

There were three hives with cruisers and darts coming their way, and they managed to neutralize one using the ancient weapon. But just as they get their hopes up that they might actually be able to survive this, they run into a serious problem:

Grodin: We have a problem. McKay: What? What problem? Grodin: It looks like the circuit we re-routed has overloaded. The weapon can't fire again. I'm trying to find another pathway. McKay: We're heading back in to pick you up. Grodin: Stay exactly where you are! McKay: Look, we're cloaked--they won't see us. Grodin: There's no time! Just get the hell out of here! I'm sorry. McKay: Get us back to that satellite!

McKay wants to save Grodin, tries very hard to get to him, but there is no time. They watch the wraith destroy the Ancient satellite and all their hopes with it. And McKay very much blames himself for what happened because it was the malfunctioning of the satellite that caused this. It was the fact that he had been unable to fix it that killed Grodin.

The scenes switch between McKay and Sheppard, Sheppard and McKay, back and forth. We are watching the emotional journeys of these two men, separated though they are by a vast distance. We are watching the intensifying of their emotional states side by side, the darkening of their respective moods. And the scenes are not unconnected. They are showing us how desperately they need each other. McKay is lost without Sheppard. And without McKay, Sheppard is losing himself.

Continued in Pt. 9

#stargate atlantis #sga #sga meta #john sheppard #sheppard is bi #rodney mckay #rodney is gay #ep. the siege #ep. poisoning the well

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