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imagine-organization-xiii · 4 years

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I'd love to see the organization member's finding out their s/o is actually genderfluid. Or perhaps transgender, please and thank you!

I left it fairly vague, but someone who reviewed this post for me said that it leaned more toward FtM - that being said, I hope you all enjoy!

ALSO *spoilers* Demyx is 100% also trans in this so y’all can fight me

Masterlist here!

oOoOoOo

Xemnas - Loves you for your brain, not your body. All he cares about is that you’re comfortable with who you are in your own body, whether you identify as male, as female, or as something a little in between. Holy shit, he’s also fiercely protective. Unfortunately attitudes regarding transgender people are less positive than they should be, so he’s ready to SNAP at anyone who bothers to misgender you or give you strange or hateful looks.

Xigbar - Xigbar has been a lot of different people over the years, so he was like… okay, whatever, you want to go get burgers now? It’s as regular to him as breathing. He was extremely casual about it - I mean, you know you better than he does, and if this is who you are now then… okay! He’s there for it! If you’re aren’t out, know that he’ll follow your lead. He’ll use your chosen name and pronouns in private until you give him permission to use them in public, but just know that he will always support you no matter what you decide.

Xaldin - he wouldn’t say that he was uncomfortable with the idea of you being transgender - he was more uncomfortable that you didn’t say anything and that you spent so much time LETTING him refer to you as the wrong gender. He’ll understand your reluctance, but he’ll make it clear that you can trust him with anything and that you don’t need to hide who you are. He’ll defend you to the death, if needed.

Vexen - Does as much research as he can to fully understand what you’re going through, the science behind it, and tries to figure out the best way for him to help you. Do you want top or bottom surgery? He’s got the best experts/surgeons in the universe on speed dial. You need a new prescription for hormones? He’s got it for you already. Wants you to feel comfortable in your own body and will do whatever he can to make that happen.

Lexaeus - This BEEF MAN is SO SOFT. He knows NOTHING about people who are transgender but he will do research!!! He might not understand it, but he’s happy to listen to you explain anything he doesn’t understand - or he might even go to Vexen for explanations if he’s trying to surprise you with research.

Zexion - we all know that Zexion is intelligent, but this is one subject in which he’s pretty ignorant. But that’s okay!!! You get to teach him what it means to identify as transgender, and he’s SO happy to learn. You’re a great teacher and he’ll happily listen to you talk for hours - it’s really just a bonus that he gets to learn something! You both are around the same size, so he won’t even complain if you take some of his clothes to wear, too.

Saix - Saix grew up in a fairly conservative family - he thinks he might have gravitated toward Lea as a kid because the kid was just so outrageous and a deep contrast to his stifling family. He goes cold when he realizes that you’re transgender, not because he hates it, but because he’s WORRIED for you. He knows how awful people can be to things they don’t understand, and he’s so concerned that he won’t be near you and you might get hurt because of some ignorant asshole on the street. Won’t let you leave his side unless you promise him that you’ll continue to be careful and that you’ll let him know if you need him to help you handle a bad situation.

Axel - Can really tell that you’re worried and stressed out, so he might try to make you feel better by making jokes. “Oh, you’re a trans guy? That’s awesome, good thing that I’m bisexual.” You already knew that he liked guys as much as girls, but to see him refer to you as a guy so casually almost makes you cry. Axel is always such a genuine boyfriend, so it’s reassuring to know that he cares about you that much.

Demyx - All but... kind of bursts into tears?? Surprise, surprise, Demyx is also trans. It explains a lot about his attitude and personality in general and you’re happy to share your stories with each other. He’s ready to support you and give information to anyone who doesn’t quite understand your experience. He knows it will take you a while to steady yourself physically and emotionally, so he’s ready to field any questions or concerns to make sure that you aren’t stressed out.

Luxord - Always knew that there was something special about you and now he knows what it is. Smug as hell, not because of your situation, but because he knew there was something off about you - but now that you’ve told him you’re transgender, he hopes that you trust him enough to show him the real you. He’s so proud of you and happy that you were brave enough to share this with him.

Marluxia - Kind of already had an idea that you weren’t quite comfortable with yourself, so Marluxia isn’t surprised when you tell him that you’re transgender. The gender of your body didn’t quite match with the gender of your mind, and reassures you that this is common and fine! You’re allowed to feel this way and you can do what you can to be comfortable with yourself.

Larxene - Larxene literally doesn’t care - you know what, if you’re happy and this is who you are then okay??? She doesn’t date you because of your genitalia, obviously. She may be tiny and you might be larger than her, but hot damn she will FIGHT anyone that’s rude or prejudiced. Also, shopping trips? She’ll definitely take you to some of her favorite places to get clothes and shoes - and she also won’t complain if you want to have a mani-pedi date.

Roxas - has literally no idea what’s going on, but damn he’s ready to SUPPORT. It takes him a while to understand the logistics of being trans, but he’s horrified that you spent so much time not being able to be who you actually are. He’ll have a lot of questions, so just be ready to be patient with it. He doesn’t want to upset or insult you, but it will take a bit before his ignorance becomes knowledge - when that happens, he’ll be happy to help everyone else understand your situation.

Xion - Your number one cheerleader and support system, without a doubt. By your side through hormone therapy if you’re able to take that route, ready to hold your hand before and after top/bottom surgery, basically just ready to help you with anything. Wants you to feel good about yourself because she knows how amazing and wonderful you are - the rest of the world needs to know it, too!

#lgbt headcanons #organization xiii headcanons #kingdom hearts headcanons #angelxxsms

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a-little-slice-of-fandom · 5 years

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You know what I would love? Six to bring back masquerade masks for the choreo All You Wanna Do.

I don’t mean the exact ones that the studio cast used, since the queens had to hold them up. I mean the ones you can tie with ribbon so you still have the use of your hands. But just think about how much more intimidating AYWD would become when the queens faces are half obscured.

I’m going to compare the beheaded cousins’ song here for a second.

In DLUH, the queens doing the back up (i.e everyone except Boleyn) react to the song as it progresses. When Boleyn insults Aragon in DLUH, Aragon reacts! And more importantly, during the facade break at the very end of DLUH where Boleyn screams “he’s actually going to chop my head off” the queens react. They stop singing and look distressed and confused on Boleyn’s behalf. It doesn’t last long, sure, but it shows that the queens are still themselves during the song.

There is none of this in AWYD. The queens just...don’t seem to react to anything Howard does. They don’t laugh along with her in the first verses, they don’t grow more sluggish as the verses continue, they don’t break by the end of the song. And obviously that makes sense for AYWD, due to the much more dark and mature of the subject matter (and I’m very glad that these subjects are treated with respect. Don’t take this as me saying I want them to laugh along with AYWD because I don’t)

The back-up queens during AYWD are just so disconnected from everything that Howard does. They just stand there: completely stone faced and cold. It’s almost like a Haus of Holbein situation, you know? Where the queens are no longer really playing the queens, but different characters within the show. And in the same way Haus of Holbein signifies this by using the neon ruffs and sunglasses, AWYD could use the masks to show that it’s not the queens doing this to Howard.

Plus, bringing back the masks would add another layer of disconnect between the other queens and Howard in AYWD. It would practically isolate her on stage, making her stand alone with figures around her rather than Aragon, Boleyn, Seymour etc, while still also being able to keep all the choreography for AWYD.

You could totally have fun with the designs as well, making them match the queens costumes (e.g green and black for Boleyn, dark blue and silver for Parr etc, alternate colours to match the alternates) and using the light to make the masks seem more threatening. And personally, I think it would look amazing as the queens get closer and closer to Howard with their faces half obscured and scowling. Masquerade masks can just be so creepy sometimes, and it would really work in AWYD’s favour in my opinion.

Of course there are logistical issues with this idea. AYWD starts with very little warning so there isn’t much time to put on the masks (and tying the ribbon to hold them upright could be a pain) but taking them off wouldn’t serve much of an issue since the queens doing the back up run off at the very end to leave Howard alone. There’s also the issue of the masquerade masks clashing with the very stylised costumes that the queens wear, but I think they

Anyone have any thoughts on this? Or am I just throwing out crackhead ideas to the void again?

#six the musical #six #sixthemusical #anne boleyn #katherine howard #catherine of aragon #jane seymour #catherine parr #anne of cleves #anna of cleves #AYWD #all you wanna do #aimie atkinson #vicki manser #sam pauly #samantha pauly #courtney mack

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weaverlings · 5 years

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Every Episode of WTNV with Carlos Mentioned

No, I did not keep track of how long I spent on this. Anyway.

Total series count: 89 episodes

In the main podcast, anyway. The list includes at least partial context; however I wasn't counting the number of times Carlos was mentioned per episode, just if he was mentioned at all. So if he came up more than once I didn't necessarily record each time. Still, there are definitely spoilers.

I can't like… guarantee that I didn't miss something, unfortunately. However, I used both "Carlos" and "scientist" all the time, and I additionally used "boyfriend" from 26 onward and "husband" after 100. So it should be pretty close, at least.

I might go through and do live shows later. However, the answer for them is (almost) always yes, as most of them at least have a segment that Dylan Marron performs at some shows, so it'd be more a matter of checking for mentions of Carlos outside of that.

The reason I did this was to see if I was at all correct in my sense that Carlos has been mentioned less over time. My conclusion: well… sort of?

There actually was less of him than I thought in both year 1 and year 2 (year 1 in particular). However, years 3 and 4 had a LOT of him, and it has gone down from there through the end of year 7, when Carlos was only mentioned in 7 episodes total, with very few casual mentions by Cecil (vs when he had a particular role in what was going on).

So the problem (or at least, I consider it one) hasn't been going on for as long as I thought in the grand scheme of the series. I now believe that a significant part of the issue is just… Well, it has at this point been almost three years since that decline. Plus listening live makes everything feel drawn out, so there's a lot of perceived time in between individual mentions.

That being said, I think the actual conclusion is: it's maybe not as I thought, but I also wasn't completely imagining it, especially not looking at very recent events. We don't know what this year will hold, but year 7, as mentioned above, had the least of Carlos in it so far. There are also some significant gaps - Cecil mentions Carlos in episode 91, and after that the next time he comes up in year 5 is in 100 (!!!!)

He is mentioned in a solid majority of the series, but it's pretty front-loaded at this point. Also he has a few appearances in the first novel, and he's a central character in It Devours!

Finally, thanks so much @cecilspeaks because this wouldn't have been possible to do at all otherwise.

The complete list is as follows:

Year 1

episode 1: yes (well of course)

episode 2: no

episode 3: yes (the Telly thing)

episode 4: yes (dissenting at the PTA meeting)

episode 5: yes (Cecil tried to ask him about the moon but couldn't find him)

episode 6: no

episode 7: no

episode 8: yes (Carlos wants to talk about lights in Radon Canyon, not dinner or weekend plans)

episode 9: yes (but in the context of Telly wandering the desert)

episode 10: no

episode 11: yes (Cecil asked about tectonic activity - Carlos is "distracted yet beautiful")

episode 12: no

episode 13: no

episode 14: no

episode 15: no

episode 16: yes (basically the central plot of the episode)

episode 17: no

episode 18: no

episode 19 A+B: no for both

episode 20: no

episode 21: no

episode 22: no

episode 23: no

episode 24: no

episode 25: yes (absolutely)

Total year count: 9

Year 2

episode 26: no

episode 27: yes

episode 28: no

episode 29: yes (Carlos has opinions on subway riders' DNA)

episode 30: yes (checking out the house that doesn't exist)

episode 31: yes (Carlos "promised a certain person dinner")

episode 32: yes (Carlos gave Cecil the watch for their 1-month anniversary)

episode 33: no

episode 34: no

episode 35: yes (Carlos is being industrious!)

episode 36: no

episode 37: arguably (Cecil mentions finding "someone that might make [him] feel better about what has happened today" which probably means Carlos, but he's not mentioned directly)

episode 38: yes (Carlos has scientific opinions about orange grove growth + Cecil almost texts that he loves him but just knocks the imposter out instead)

episode 39: no (but fun fact: Dylan Marron originally did the pre-episode announcements for this one. I don't have the file anymore sadly.)

episode 40: yes (Lauren brings him up though)

episode 41: no

episode 42: no

episode 43: yes (Carlos is looking into the house that doesn't exist again)

episode 44: no

episode 45: no

episode 46: yes (he's on the phone w/ Cecil about the oak doors)

episode 47: yes (but it's Lauren and Kevin talking about how they haven't found him)

episode 48: yes (Cecil doesn't know where he is)

episode 49 A+B: yes (and I don't wanna talk about it :( )

Total count: 14 (ish, because 37 is subject to debate and 47 is different as noted. So maybe 12.)

Year 3

episode 50: yes (people have been asking Cecil about Carlos)

episode 51: yes (he spends most of it on the phone with Cecil)

episode 52: yes (Cecil's been getting calls and snapchats)

episode 53: no (but Steve mentions Cecil had "softened in the right places" over the past year)

episode 54: yes ("A Carnival Comes to Town." that's it.)

episode 55: yes ("The University of What It Is." again. that's it!)

episode 56: yes (Cecil's been isolated w/out Carlos, Cecil talks to Diane about Carlos, and then Cecil has a dream about being w/ Carlos again and sleeps well…)

episode 57: yes (Cecil wonders if Carlos knew the list, and then discusses the "current context" of their relationship - a matter of space)

episode 58: yes (Carlos doesn't want Cecil to say he's trapped in the other world + Cecil misses him)

episode 59: yes (Carlos is on the phone w/ Cecil)

episode 60: yes (Cecil considering whether or not he can visit Carlos)

episode 61: yes (Cecil mentions Carlos to Earl and also wonders if science can help him process the events of 59)

episode 62: no

episode 63: no

episode 64: yes (this episode has the watercolor painting in it)

episode 65: yes (Carlos leaves a voicemail)

episode 66: yes (considering the logistics of the Dog Park)

episode 67: no

episode 68: yes (Cecil talks about visiting Carlos)

episode 69: yes (Cecil announces his "last" broadcast to move to be w/ Carlos)

episode 70: A; yes (but again, context - it's got Carlos still in the otherworld). B; yes, Cecil describes Carlos' return

Total count: 17

Year 4

episode 71: yes (Carlos "participates" in the heist and is safe at home later)

episode 72: yes (Carlos can apparently sleep through anything!)

episode 73: yes (Carlos apparently tells Cecil not to worry about even catastrophic or paradoxical mistakes)

episode 74: yes (certain local radio hosts and scientists may have been using the Dog Park to go back and forth between Night Vale and a desert otherworld)

episode 75: yes (matching lycra shorts)

episode 76: yes (Carlos makes delicious fruit salad! also he's working on a solution to the flamingo problem)

episode 77: no

episode 78: yes (Carlos likes the gory parade + Earl is invited to dinner w/ Cecil and Carlos)

episode 79: no

episode 80: yes (Cecil tells his boyfriend he wants a beret)

episode 81: yes (Cecil spent time w/ Carlos between reeducation sessions)

episode 82: yes (sort of. Cecil mentions knowing what it's like in a long-term relationship, which is cute, and it's obvious who it's about, so I'm counting it)

episode 83: yes (Carlos does the shopping because Cecil has trouble with auctions)

episode 84: yes ("Hey there, Lonely Boy…")

episode 85: no

episode 86: no

episode 87: yes (Cecil considers the possibility of a tropical vacation w/ Carlos)

episode 88: yes (phone conversation, bunny nickname)

episode 89: yes (what Carlos is up to w/ the stranger situation)

episode 90: yes (Carlos is in the crowd against the dog/strangers)

Total count: 16

Year 5

episode 91: yes (Cecil reaches out to Carlos about the train, but he doesn't know :( )

episode 92: no

episode 93: no

episode 94: no

episode 95: no

episode 96: no

episode 97: no

episode 98: no

episode 99: no

episode 100: YES

episode 101: no

episode 102: yes (Carlos who Cecil is closest to other than Josie)

episode 103: yes (they're excited about going to the beach w/ family + they visited Josie together)

episode 104: yes (Cecil and Carlos go together to pay respects to Josie)

episode 105: yes (Carlos discusses dinner + TV viewing plans and has some concerns about the Smithwick house)

episode 106: no

episode 107: yes (Carlos arranges a task force regarding sounds heard under the earth)

episode 108: yes (tied into broken-reality weirdness)

episode 109: no

episode 110: yes (Steve brings him up - asked Carlos about space and Carlos skips away because he's so excited about science)

Total count: 9

Year 6

episode 111: yes (Carlos worries about having grown too used to Night Vale + the material testing in ep1 was an excuse to talk to Cecil)

episode 112: no

episode 113: yes (everything makes Cecil think of Carlos. Also he's out of town at a science convention)

episode 114: no

episode 115: yes (Cecil isn't concerned about robberies at labs or radio stations, but is concerned about librarian attacks on his family)

episode 116: yes (Strip uno… also "just the most vicious outfits")

episode 117: no

episode 118: yes (Cecil knows science… heck yes of course!!)

episode 119: yes (Carlos' hair is used to calibrate equipment)

episode 120: no

episode 121: no

episode 122: no

episode 123: no

episode 124: yes (A Door Ajar pt 1)

episode 125: yes (A Door Ajar pt 2)

episode 126: yes (A Door Ajar pt 3)

episode 127: yes (Carlos and Cecil plan to hold a blood matter viewing party)

episode 128: yes (the viewing party starts + Cecil and Carlos have a houseguest)

episode 129: yes (everyone, including Carlos, is surprised by the depth of the blood matter)

episode 130: no

Total count: 12

Year 7

episode 131: yes (Carlos texts Cecil about a matter of scientific accuracy)

episode 132: no

episode 133: yes (Carlos has a concern about the time situation, and also there's the Telly ending)

episode 134: yes (Cecil and Carlos attend a high school football game together + with the rest of their family)

episode 135: no

episode 136: no

episode 137: no

episode 138: no

episode 139: no

episode 140: no

episode 141: no

episode 142: no

episode 143: yes (Cecil tells Carlos he's coming home but, y'know, no one can hear)

episode 144: no

episode 145: no

episode 146: no

episode 147: yes (Carlos has been studying the moon and… there's other stuff that happens)

episode 148: no

episode 149: yes (once again a lot of stuff but Cecil remembers by the end. It's "already forgotten" apparently)

episode 150: yes (Cecil discusses their anniversary; also Carlos discovers his clock working)

Total count: 7

Year 8 (ongoing)

episode 151: no

episode 152: no

episode 153: yes (Carlos' experiments get messy so he ends up working at Steve and Abby's place)

episode 154: yes (Carlos is continuing to run experiments at Steve and Abby's and is taken in for questioning when Steve is arrested)

episode 155: yes (Carlos is really the one who figures everything out tbh)

episode 156: yes (Cecil is anxious about death/separation from Carlos, and then gets excited when he thinks there's a way for them to be together forever)

episode 157: yes (Carlos has some concerns about the proposed solution and wants to talk it out w/ Cecil)

Total count (so far): 5

#welcome to night vale #wtnv #wtnv ramblings #carlos the scientist #i mean as far as the time question #the answer is more than i probably should have #so

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tarithenurse · 5 years

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Agent of Hope - 20

Your world falls into ruin together with the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcements Logistics Division when you find out that your boyfriend isn’t one of the good guys. Pairing: Brock Rumlow x fem!reader, Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader Contents: Bureaucracy and bending thereof, dealing with trauma, feels, balancing trust, loads more. A/N: Thanks to all of you who like and especially reblog <3 The house-situation is taking a looooot of energy, especially when combined with my tendency to overthink the wrong things, but hey: Ontkruid vergaat niet. THE GIF IS TOTALLY UNRELATED BUT I LOVE IT!

20 - Not so Black ‘n White

The inlaid granite had felt hard under against the soles of your shoes, cold and grey and absolutely not helping with your nerves. When the stone had given way for carpet, that too had been dark in contrast to the naked walls coloured with some indeterminable off-white shade…at least there was a single palm tree in a much too small pot in the room you’d been led to, otherwise Natasha’s hair would have been the only bright colour in the room.

Your throat is dry, but you’re determined not to stop – if you do then you’ll never be able to start again. “It felt like-like an eternity even b’fore the threats and b-beatings and-d-and I messed up.” Tasha’s hand twitches. Want to hold my hand or kill Brock? “I tried to win time…peace…anything, by making up a story ‘cept i- he…” Your hand shakes so hard you spill some of the water from the crickly plastic cup which is empty before the dry knot in your throat has been washed away. “The point is…I can ermm identify and y’know…tes-…-tify…?”

The eyes boring into you are impossible to categorize in terms of colour, but you recognize the glimmer of pity before you have to look away. There’s been no show of emotions while you told of the life you and Brock had shared before things were brought out in the open, barely any frown as you explained how Hydra came and took you, but now…just a broken sentence hinting at your living nightmare.

I don’t want the pity. Everyone at the Compound walk as on eggshells around you, avoiding certain subjects as the let you decide the pace but there’s no pity just room to heal and grow stronger…what agent Ross radiates make you feel ruined all over again. No, worse than that. Guilt surges in the pit of your belly, pushing the shoulders up to your ears as if that could shield you from anything, when in reality nothing of what happened is your fault but the choice of a deranged man working on behalf of a genocidal organisation. Both of whom knows how to get where they want.

“Can I trust you, agent Ross?”

The simple question startles both him and Natasha, the latter sending you a warning look.

“I like to think that you can, yeah.” There’s a simple sort of honesty in his voice, matching the down-to-earth vibe you’ve been getting from him and which you know is one of the reasons your hero has agreed to co-operate to begin with. “We can do this off the books if you want?”

At least Tasha relaxes a little bit when you nod.

…

Whether or not she’s being protective or supportive, Natasha has moved closer to you. It doesn’t prevent Ross from leaning as far across the table as he can without getting his ass out the chair, and you’re secretly thankful for his short stature.

“That’s…either insane or improbable,” he breathes, fingers carting through the now messy hair, “but with all the shit happening the last years…oh fuck me!”

The exclamation isn’t a request or order but still makes you cringe inwardly. It’s Nat’s hands being squeezed so hard the blood flow is hampered and you’re grateful she’s here even if the assassin side of her is plotting ways to teach Ross to back down.

“Let me make this very, very clear,” she states subtly, “if any of this leaves the room without [Y/N]’s consent…”

A smirk dances at the corner of her lips only for you to see when the poor man blanches, his head probably full of all sorts of horrible options for his untimely demise.

“Understood!” A finger slips inside the tie in a futile attempt at loosening it slightly. “Hrm…perhaps we should continue this at another time?”

… Romanoff …

Not many people manage to surprise the former spy/assassin the way [Y/N] has today and she almost feels prouder than worried even now as she guides the car through the traffic. Next to her, the astounding woman is sitting with a foot on the seat, an elbow resting on the knee to further support her head. By now there must be dents under the chin from the knuckles because [Y/N] hasn’t moved since they got off the highway but merely been staring out the side window. Squinting at the faint reflection, Natasha can’t see the frown usually visible in times of serious pondering. What’s going on, babe? Talk to me. She’s about to ask for just that when [Y/N] breaks the silence.

“I’m sorry I told him what I can do anyways…” A few dust motes hover in the temporary silence. “Thing is that…that he does the same as you and the others? Which means that he doesn’t…he doesn’t…ask…” Breathing shakily, the girl looks back out the window. “None of you have been forcing me to tell anything. Not about what happened. Not about what I…see.”

Oh. “Ross didn’t either.”

“Nuh-uh.” There’s a small smile obscured by the shaking head. “Bro-Rumlow and…those…they kept pushing, forcing me to tell and it was never enough!”

Natasha knows the reason behind it. Hydra doesn’t have room for values such as personal freedom, individualism, moral, anything else but furthering their cause.

With someone that could potentially tell the future in their hands, they’d been sitting on a golden mine and of course they’d had to dig quick and deep to get as much of the valuables as possible before the treasure trove was whisked away. It didn’t matter to them that said treasure was a person and the mine was her mind.

Сукин сын! Through the sleepless nights and the countless days spent comforting the survivor, even nursing her back to a semblance of thriving, most of the horrors have been revealed although never in too great detail. What has never been said, Natasha has been able to fill in the blanks from simply because she’s seen that kind of world and she knows the messed up rules Hydra plays by. The only comfort in this mess is that Rumlow had never shared the spoils with anyone.

“Sweetheart, it’s your life and I don’t have the right to make the decisions for you,” Nat explains softly, “I promised I’d be by your side and that stands whether or not you want to share your intel with me…us…or not.”

A warm hand slips over on the Avenger’s thigh to give a little squeeze. “I know.” There’s that smile again. “And I appreciate all the room and trust you and the others show me…I really do.” The hands stays, thumb tracing light circles on the denim. “Besides…you’ll come to respect agent Ross in Berlin.”

Huh? No explanation follows, though, and Natasha decides to let the spy in her go unsatisfied and instead hope that [Y/N] will tell more in due time.

The rest of the way to the Tower, where Happy, Stark, and Pepper are waiting, the women chat about the hunt on the remaining Hydra cells.

… Reader …

Ever since getting to the safety of Stark and the Avengers the very first time, you’ve been keeping notes about the vision. At first it was short key words on your phone, but the last week it’s been full on recounts in a notebook covered with flappable sequins (navy blue one way and a sparkly rainbow-coloured mix the other), most of the contents naturally being older visions that you try to recall.

Rubbing your left temple in small circles the fingers on the other hand mindlessly trace patterns to break the monochrome surface. Nothing makes sense. You almost whish you were back to the old days where the pain-inducing dreams seemed like nothing more than just freak coincidences and a lively imagination…but then you’d still be with Brock and that’s one nightmare you’d give anything to be without. I thought I loved him…a sour taste echoes in the back of your mouth, the barely visible scars itch. He thinks he still does.

The disconcerting thoughts are broken by the sound of approaching footsteps which can only belong to Happy. He rarely makes it up to the domestic floors of the Tower so when he does, he makes sure to pop by wherever you’re hanging out, brightening your day with one of his full-face smiles.

“Heya!” He allows a box to drop onto the couch so he can stretch a bit. “How’s it going, tiger?”

Meh. “Okay…trying to make sense of my life and shit, y’know?” It’s nice not to have to explain for Happy to get it. The man is empathy incarnate and the nod encompasses that. “Watcha got there?”

As if partially surprised at the box still resting on the soft seat and somewhat chuffed that he knows something you don’t, Happy pats the cardboard lovingly. “Oh…just a little somethin’ somethin’ mister Stark has asked me t’get him…” Shifty eyes, then he leans closer to whisper: “You’ll see eventually.”

“So secretive, my dear sir!”

“Ay, never betray the trust o’ som’one ye care ‘bout, little girl,” he hums in a horrible pirate voice, “’specially not if they’re a super’ero or assassin or whatnot, if ye get mah drift.”

A slight cough behind Happy makes the poor man blanche. “Wise words coming from a man who’s decided not to go straight to their boss who just happens to be such a hero.”

Even with a sickly green smoothie in hand and an old band t-shirt, Tony Stark’s presence takes over the room. Not in an uncomfortable way, there’s just no denying the imposing alpha-male-thing he’s got going. It makes your toes curl and thighs itch with the need to get away and find Natasha.

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brownskinsugarplum76 · 5 years

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NSFW A-Z: Robert Plant

I saw this done first by @xx-kurt-cocaine--xx . I loved your responses! It looked like a lot of fun, and I absolutely knew I had to offer my 2 cents on my lion bae. ☺️ I figured it would also be a good exercise to get me thinking about different conversations/scenarios I could write for my Robert fics. I enjoyed doing this a lot. Great idea you had! 👌🏽❤️

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Aftercare(what they’re like after sex)

*I think it's going to depend on the kind of sex. I think he'd be tender and doting after a romantic romp, or something rough: snuggling, flirting, soft voice conversation. But I could see him being energized and dragging a partner off on some sort of fun adventure after a quickie, a big ball of energy, all laughs, totally invigorated and totally capable of getting his partner to go along with whatever's on his mind.

Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and their partners)

*Robert is clearly very proud of little Robert Anthony and his two lemony friends. And his chest. And his hair. And his legs, with those little red shorts. Everything that he likes to show off is what he likes best.

*On a partner, I think he's going to like whatever her best asset is. I don't think he's exclusively a leg man, breast man, etc. I think women are like beautiful snowflakes to him, and he judges each one on her own merits.

Cum (anything to do with cum…basically I’m a disgusting person)

*I think he's down if the woman's down. Wherever she's comfortable with him releasing on her.

*As far as a woman squirting, our boy loves him some custard pie, in all of its stages of consumption. 😈

Dirty secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

*I think Robert would enjoy being dominated by a woman. I don't think he'd be ashamed of it, but I think it would be something he'd keep between himself and the woman.

*I think younger Robert, say, before the 90s, would not say no to a romp with an older woman.

Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

*Robert was The Sex™ in the 70s. He has a PhD in sexology without ever cracking open a book. There's a reason why there's a lyric in one of his 90s songs says "your body's talking, I swear I've heard it all before."

Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

*I think he likes all the positions. I think he'd enjoy any positon that enables him to assert dominence, show strength, or sex someone deeply. But I think he also enjoys woman on top positions--I think he relishes being under the spell of a strong woman from time to time. I think it's going to depend on his mood which position(s) he chooses for play.

Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

*Goofy during sex? I think it's possible, if he was with someone that he cared about and was in a silly mood, but I think under normal circumstances he'd be intense or passionate or tender, or some combination of those things.

Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc)

*The older Robert gets, the better his hair on his head is maintained, and certainly his facial hair nowadays. He is not one for manscaping below the neck. We know that Robert's hair is some sort of reddish medium-brown, and the hair on his head has traveled to a lot of places on the color spectrum. The carpet and drapes are frequently out of sync color-wise.

Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

*I think Robert craves Intimacy, closeness, touch, PDAs, etc. I think he can get deeply intimate anytime, anywhere. He is generally not afraid to be vulnerable, and he is capable of achieving intimacy in many ways. I once called him an hourly serial monogamist, because I feel like he's able to make deep connections quickly, with anyone, and I think he can bring that level of passion and intensity to any physical dalliance if he wants to. I'm sure he's had anonymous, impersonal sex, but I think forging a connection--no matter how short-lived--is something he enjoys as much as the physical activity.

Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

*Robert has a virtually unlimited supply of partners, but I think there were times when he pleasured himself. Like, I could see a morning orgasm being like a cup of coffee for him if he happened to be by himself. And we know poor Bonzo was subjected to a pre-Zeppelin incident. 😬

Kink (One or more of their kinks)

*I think exhibitionism and voyeurism would be normal. I also think light dom/sub stuff--Robert giving or receiving.

Location (Favourite places to do the do)

*Uh, wherever the mood strikes. Really. 😈 But I do think he would enjoy being outdoors. I fantasize about him being nude on his property. 🥰🥰🥰 I also love the idea of pool sex or shower sex.

Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

*An emotionally/intellectually willing partner who strikes his fancy. I think he would enjoy someone with whom he can have some flirtatious mental sparring. I think he enjoys being physically seductive, but I think he would highly value someone who builds attraction and tension with words. From a physical standpoint, I think he's more attracted to women who don't try too hard, natural beauties, women with quiet confidence. We know he has a type, but I think he could be captivated by just about any woman, if the vibes are right.

NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

*Animals or anything that is excessively harmful. He's a lover, not a punisher. I think narrow-minded women would also be a turn-off. Definitely narrow-minded or prudish sexually, but also narrow-minded in non-sexual ways. I feel like he'd be less likely to engage someone whose worldview is limited/exclusive/negative.

Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

*Loves giving and receiving. A lot.

*Very good at giving; he adjusts his approach to whatever is turning on an individual woman. He's not going to stop until she's a complete, trembling, wet mess of nerves. And he might just keep going after that, to take her to new heights of pleasure, as much as to turn himself on by turning her on.

*When it comes to receiving, I think he would really enjoy losing himself in the woman's actions. I think he would immensely enjoy being deep throated, but I don't think he's going to expect every woman to be able to do it. I think he'd be most likely to let the woman lead the action, until he closes in on his climax. Then, he might be more likely to more forcefully hold her head in place or try to control her action.

Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

*I like to think he's slow and sensual and then builds up to fast and rough, although I think that would change with mood/context. I'm sure he'd go for just the fast and rough immediately after a concert. And just slow and sensual would be appealing when he returns home after a tour.

Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

*I think they'd be fairly common during a tour and less common at home. I think he'd place value on quickies for concert logistics and/or to "let off steam" immediately after a concert, or when curiosity about a new partner gets the best of him.

Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

*Certainly up to the risks of public sex. Up to the risk of physically changing positions. Up to sleeping with the partner of someone he knows? I don't think we can rule that out. 👀😒🤫 I don't think seducing a woman in the first place, putting himself out there, is any kind of risk that would stress him out. I do think he would be less likely to engage a risky person--a criminal or someone else who functions outside of positive society norms--he's not one for drama or bad vibes.

Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

*How many do you want? How many do you need? He's your man, unless he's super extra intoxicated or in an emotional funk.

Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

*I'm sure he's used toys, but I don't think it's a regular occurrence. I think he'd be most likely to use toys from time to time with someone with whom he has a serious relationship, to spice things up here and there.

Unfair (How much they like to tease)

*Robert is an evil, teasing bastard when he wants to be. Teasing with words, teasing with touch and kisses, with dat Plantaconda… Again, I think it strokes his ego but also stokes the enjoyment of his partner. It's not for the sake of asserting control or anything just what he thinks is best for everyone's pleasure.

Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

*LOUD unless he has laryngitis or something. 😂😂😂 Although I think older Robert wouldn't feel the need to be a loud to express his enjoyment. I think he would LOVE for his partner to be loud.

*As far as sounds, choose from the menu of the LZ discography. 😉😈😁

Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

*I like to think Robert at least made out with a guy at least once in the 70s. We know he kissed Peter Grant, Michael Des Barres, Phil Collins… Why not? A lot of men experimented then, and I think it's plausible that Robert did, too.

X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

*Don't need an X-Ray for that. You can see it from aerial shot photos. You can damn near see it from outer space. I can't see the big E on the eye chart well without glasses, but I know I could make out that Legendary Ample Manhood™ without difficulty if someone snatched my glasses. 🤷🏽‍♀️😉

Yearning (How high is their sex drive?

*Very high. Well above average. He's gonna want it. He's gonna get it. And he won't have to beg.

ZZZ (How quickly they fall asleep afterward)

*I think he'd trail off pretty quickly. I think he'd put a lot of energy into it and it would eventually wear him out after a few times. I think he probably was also just generally tired in the 70s, after the drugs and adrenaline of performing wore off.

What do you all think?

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glamglitterandgoblins-m · 4 years

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I just put Jareth through a personality test and this is so important to who he is as a character, I’m posting not only the results but what they mean.

These are the results Jareth received from the 16Personalities Test, which can be found here and I encourage others who want further insight and/or a concise personality description to take this. It is very well done.

RESULTS

ENTP-T: Extroverted Intuitive Thinking Prospecting – Turbulent ( the Debater )

MORE DETAILS BELOW THE CUT.

INTRODUCTION

No one loves the process of mental sparring more than the Debater personality type, as it gives them a chance to exercise their effortlessly quick wit, broad accumulated knowledge base, and capacity for connecting disparate ideas to prove their points. Debaters are the ultimate devil’s advocate, thriving on the process of shredding arguments and beliefs and letting the ribbons drift in the wind for all to see. They don’t always do this because they are trying to achieve some deeper purpose or strategic goal, though. Sometimes it’s for the simple reason that it’s fun.

An odd juxtaposition arises with Debaters, as they are uncompromisingly honest, but will argue tirelessly for something they don’t actually believe in, stepping into another’s shoes to argue a truth from another perspective.

Playing the devil’s advocate helps people with the Debater personality type to not only develop a better sense of others’ reasoning, but a better understanding of opposing ideas – since Debaters are the ones arguing them.

This tactic shouldn’t be confused with the sort of mutual understanding Diplomat personalities seek – Debaters, like all Analyst personality types, are on a constant quest for knowledge, and what better way to gain it than to attack and defend an idea, from every angle, from every side?

There Are no Rules Here – We’re Trying to Accomplish Something!

Follow the path of the unsafe, independent thinker. Expose your ideas to the dangers of controversy. Speak your mind and fear less the label of ’crack-pot’ than the stigma of conformity. And on issues that seem important to you, stand up and be counted at any cost.

Taking a certain pleasure in being the underdog, Debaters enjoy the mental exercise found in questioning the prevailing mode of thought, making them irreplaceable in reworking existing systems or shaking things up and pushing them in clever new directions. However, they’ll be miserable managing the day-to-day mechanics of actually implementing their suggestions. Debater personalities love to brainstorm and think big, but they will avoid getting caught doing the “grunt work” at all costs. Debaters only make up about three percent of the population, which is just right, as it lets them create original ideas, then step back to let more numerous and fastidious personalities handle the logistics of implementation and maintenance.

Debaters’ capacity for debate can be a vexing one – while often appreciated when it’s called for, it can fall painfully flat when they step on others’ toes by say, openly questioning their boss in a meeting, or picking apart everything their significant other says. This is further complicated by Debaters’ unyielding honesty, as this type doesn’t mince words and cares little about being seen as sensitive or compassionate. Likeminded types get along well enough with people with the Debater personality type, but more sensitive types, and society in general, are often conflict-averse, preferring feelings, comfort, and even white lies over unpleasant truths and hard rationality.

This frustrates Debaters, and they find that their quarrelsome fun burns many bridges, oftentimes inadvertently, as they plow through others’ thresholds for having their beliefs questioned and their feelings brushed aside. Treating others as they’d be treated, Debaters have little tolerance for being coddled, and dislike when people beat around the bush, especially when asking a favor. Debater personalities find themselves respected for their vision, confidence, knowledge, and keen sense of humor, but often struggle to utilize these qualities as the basis for deeper friendships and romantic relationships.

Opportunity Is Missed Because It Looks Like Hard Work

Debaters have a longer road than most in harnessing their natural abilities – their intellectual independence and free-form vision are tremendously valuable when they’re in charge, or at least have the ear of someone who is, but getting there can take a level of follow-through that Debaters struggle with.

Once they’ve secured such a position, Debaters need to remember that for their ideas to come to fruition, they will always depend on others to assemble the pieces – if they’ve spent more time “winning” arguments than they have building consensus, many Debaters will find they simply don’t have the support necessary to be successful. Playing devil’s advocate so well, people with this personality type may find that the most complex and rewarding intellectual challenge is to understand a more sentimental perspective, and to argue consideration and compromise alongside logic and progress.

STRENGTHS & WEAKNESSES

Debater Strengths

Knowledgeable – Debaters rarely pass up a good opportunity to learn something new, especially abstract concepts. This information isn’t usually absorbed for any planned purpose as with dedicated studying, people with the Debater personality type just find it fascinating.

Quick Thinkers – Debaters have tremendously flexible minds, and are able to shift from idea to idea without effort, drawing on their accumulated knowledge to prove their points, or their opponents’, as they see fit.

Original – Having little attachment to tradition, Debater personalities are able to discard existing systems and methods and pull together disparate ideas from their extensive knowledge base, with a little raw creativity to hold them together, to formulate bold new ideas. If presented with chronic, systemic problems and given rein to solve them, Debaters respond with unabashed glee.

Excellent Brainstormers – Nothing is quite as enjoyable to Debaters as analyzing problems from every angle to find the best solutions. Combining their knowledge and originality to splay out every aspect of the subject at hand, rejecting without remorse options that don’t work and presenting ever more possibilities, Debaters are irreplaceable in brainstorming sessions.

Charismatic – People with the Debater personality type have a way with words and wit that others find intriguing. Their confidence, quick thought and ability to connect disparate ideas in novel ways create a style of communication that is charming, even entertaining, and informative at the same time.

Energetic – When given a chance to combine these traits to examine an interesting problem, Debaters can be truly impressive in their enthusiasm and energy, having no qualms with putting in long days and nights to find a solution.

Debater Weaknesses

Very Argumentative – If there’s anything Debaters enjoy, it’s the mental exercise of debating an idea, and nothing is sacred. More consensus-oriented personality types rarely appreciate the vigor with which Debater personalities tear down their beliefs and methods, leading to a great deal of tension.

Insensitive – Being so rational, Debaters often misjudge others feelings and push their debates well past others’ tolerance levels. People with this personality type don’t really consider emotional points to be valid in such debates either, which magnifies the issue tremendously.

Intolerant – Unless people are able to back up their ideas in a round of mental sparring, Debaters are likely to dismiss not just the ideas but the people themselves. Either a suggestion can stand up to rational scrutiny or it’s not worth bothering with.

Can Find It Difficult to Focus – The same flexibility that allows Debaters to come up with such original plans and ideas makes them readapt perfectly good ones far too often, or to even drop them entirely as the initial excitement wanes and newer thoughts come along. Boredom comes too easily for Debaters, and fresh thoughts are the solution, though not always a helpful one.

Dislike Practical Matters – Debaters are interested in what could be – malleable concepts like ideas and plans that can be adapted and debated. When it comes to hard details and day-to-day execution where creative flair isn’t just unnecessary but actually counter-productive, Debater personalities lose interest, often with the consequence of their plans never seeing the light of day.

ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIPS

If there’s one thing Debaters are good at, it’s coming up with a never-ending stream of innovations and ideas to keep things moving forward, and this is evident in their romantic relationships as well. For people with the Debater personality type growth is key, and even before they’ve found a dating partner, they imagine all the ways that they can experience new things together, to grow in tandem. This can be an overwhelming process if their partner doesn’t match up, but when Debaters find someone who shares their love of intellectual exploration, watch out.

Show Me a Satisfied Man, and I’ll Show You a Failure

From the earliest dates, Debaters test their partners’ limits for this kind of potential, pushing boundaries and traditions, looking for open-mindedness and spontaneity. Dating Debater personalities is hardly a boring experience, and they make use of their enthusiasm and creativity by delighting and surprising their partners with new ideas and experiences.

Debaters’ idea of fun is often rooted in self-improvement, and people with this personality type bring their partners along the way, as much in a spirit of sharing as in a spirit of expectation. Debaters see either growth or stagnation and don’t buy into the idea of a happy status quo, making them demanding as much as they are exciting.

Some may tire in the face of this constant improvement – while Debaters’ vigor can be attractive, it can also wear down even the most patient partners. A little time to breathe and a chance to rest on one’s laurels for a moment is necessary for many people, but not something Debaters are likely to appreciate. However, if their unwavering enthusiasm is met in kind, it can lead to a magnificent relationship characterized by its strength, depth, and spark.

Genius Is One Percent Inspiration and Ninety-Nine Percent Perspiration

This is perhaps most evident as Debaters’ relationships progress into more intimate situations. All that exploratory curiosity and enthusiasm has a chance to be expressed in new ways when Debaters and their partners come together, and they readily encourage their partners to try new things, to enjoy their intimacy without preconceived limitations.

For people with the Debater personality type, this phase of their relationships is a chance to improve and develop in areas that are outside the realm of academia, though they approach it in much the same way – as a physical and intellectual process of striving towards excellence, rather than a spiritual or emotional expression of affection.

Debaters’ desire to improve in this department makes them fantastic partners when the relationship reaches that point, but their attitude towards this process is also evidence of their most glaring shortcoming – their emotional obliviousness. While Debaters are more open-minded than other Analyst personality types about others’ perspectives, they are also more likely to express their disdain for such things as emotional sensitivity in cuttingly well-phrased and clear terms, easily hurting their partners’ feelings without realizing it. Debater personalities may even ignore their partners’ feelings altogether, instead immersing themselves entirely in some distant idea or opportunity, inaccessible.

Where Debaters’ unwavering desire for self-improvement comes in most handy is in their emotional development, as they may actually be willing to work on areas such as sensitivity and emotional communication with their partners.

Debaters’ best compatibility rests with other Intuitive (N) types, with one or two opposing traits which help to create both balance and opportunities for growth. If they are with a more sensitive partner, this can be an excellent way for them to find another quality that they can work on together, making this weakness yet another opportunity to be creative, challenge themselves, and to deepen the attractiveness that this sense of progression brings to their relationships.

FRIENDSHIPS

Loyalty, support, emotional feedback – these are not what Debaters look for in their friendships. The last thing people with the Debater personality type want to hear is “you’re right”, not unless they have absolutely earned the distinction in a heated round of intellectual debate. If they’re wrong, Debaters want to be told so, and they want every detail of the faults in their logic to be laid bare, partly in their quest for oftentimes arbitrary truth, and partly just so they have to work to defend that logic with counterpoint and parry.

It’s often easy for Debaters to test compatibility with a potential friend – they just need to test combat ability. Debater personalities are quick-witted, and their primary means of expressing this is in the form of arguments and discussions, where they will easily spend an entire evening debating an idea they may not even believe in.

The epitome of Debaters’ friendships is when someone can hold their ground in these arbitrary debates with valid, rational arguments.

These debates are never taken personally, no matter how heated they become or how striking the disagreement. Much as an athlete competes for the physical exertion and the spirit of competition itself, Debaters debate for the sake intellectual stimulation and for the debate itself, and even in overwhelming victory or crushing defeat, it’s never about dominance, only inspiration to try harder next time.

When You Play, Play Hard

They know how to relax and have fun too, it’s just that “fun” to Debaters – a bottle of wine and a discussion about the causes of and solutions to the European migrant crisis – could be described as “an evening from hell” by many other personalities. But Debaters are a genial and enthusiastic personality type for the most part, and pretty much any situation that allows for conversation and a little wordplay is an enjoyable outing.

Debaters are actually remarkably good at communicating with friends and acquaintances of other personality types. Their natural tendency to argue as effectively as possible means that Debaters are accustomed to communicating in other people’s language and frame of reference, and this translates well into normal conversation. Where people with the Debater personality type do have difficulty relating to others is in emotional expression, the Achilles’ heel of all Analyst types.

The Worst Thinking Has Been Done in Turmoil

Being inclined to suppress their emotions and feelings, when Debaters are faced with a friend who, figuratively or literally, needs a shoulder to cry on, they have no clue how to handle the situation. They are perfectly willing and happy to offer a series of rational, reasonable solutions to the problem at hand, as Debaters do for any situation where a problem needs to be fixed, but they are certainly not known for their sensitivity or outward affection, no matter how intuitively they may understand another’s position.

Worse is when Debater personalities try to turn these emotional situations into something they find more comfortable: a debate. Given how remarkably good Debaters are at arguing both sides of a point, they are remarkably bad at putting themselves in someone else’s shoes from an emotional standpoint. Debaters should avoid at all costs the temptation to turn a discussion about the causes of a friend’s recent breakup into competitive intellectual fodder.

So long as everyone understands not to take their words too personally, anyone who isn’t afraid to discuss new ideas – and have them converted into so much confetti – is likely to find stimulating and thought-provoking friends in Debaters. It’s not a compatibility that clicks with everyone, but Debaters don’t really care about being liked by everyone anyways. As long as they get to alternate between being the sounding board and the megaphone, Debaters and their friends are bound to enjoy each other’s company for a long, long time.

PARENTHOOD

One might think that the blustery and flighty nature of Debaters would make parenting a particular challenge for them, and in many ways, they’d be right. However, one thing people with the Debater personality type love more than just about anything is a good challenge, a problem to fix, even if it comes to addressing their own weaknesses. Debaters take their roles as parents seriously, and they are bound to be affected profoundly by this development in their lives – if anyone is able to take an outside influence, like their children, and use that influence to address their own faults, it is Debaters.

Be Brave, Have Faith, Go Forward!

From the beginning Debaters’ distaste for rules and regulations is evident, and they are likely to give their young children the freedom necessary to explore on their own. Independence is one of Debaters’ greatest needs, and they feel that no person is complete without an independent mind.

Debater personalities create relaxed, unorthodox environments for their children, founded on enthusiasm and the joy of discovery through the development of reason, not heavily structured settings designed merely to be safe.

As their children grow and develop, Debaters encourage them to think independently and voice objections, opinions and alternatives. But unlike Diplomat parents, who encourage their children to express their thoughts in terms of feelings and needs, Debaters teach their children to approach these options from a position of impartiality and logic, to state what is more effective rather than what would make them feel good. As in other relationships, this quality of emotional inaccessibility is where Debaters struggle.

As their children grow into adolescence and learn to find a balance in healthy emotional expression, people with the Debater personality type may find themselves exasperated. While always up for a good debate on just about any subject, Debaters often need their partners’ help in managing more emotional outbursts and arguments. Debaters are more able than most, but even they have their limits and rules when it comes to vocal conflict.

There’s a Way to Do It Better – Find It.

Luckily, Debater personalities recognize what’s at stake: they want their children to grow into smart, independent, honest adults. To convey those values, Debaters know that they need, like with any other debate, to communicate in terms that are accessible to all sides. If that means learning how to use the tools of emotional expression and appeals, and in so doing becoming more emotionally expressive in real, personal terms as well, so be it.

CAREER PATHS

In the world of careers, Debaters have the benefit of being naturally engaged and interested in being productive and helpful. But rather than the sort of people-oriented helpfulness that Diplomat personality types bring to the table, Debater personalities are focused on developing solutions to interesting and diverse technical and intellectual problems. Debaters are a versatile personality type, and while it may take time for them to get to a point where they can fully utilize their skillset and qualities, they are likely to find that those qualities translate well into pretty much any career that so much as piques their interest.

If there’s anything Debaters love, it’s flexing their mental muscles, and any environment that lets them devise new approaches, new ideas and new projects, that allows them to push the limits of their creativity, will benefit strongly from what Debaters bring to the table.

Not every career allows this level of unbridled brainpower, but there are those that demand nothing but: entrepreneurship, engineering, even acting and photography. So long as Debaters are honest with themselves about their strengths and weaknesses, they can thrive in most any career that is in need of a new line of thinking.

The Value of an Idea Lies in the Using of It

All this intellectual power can be intimidating, but unlike their Introverted (I) cousins, people with the Debater personality type have the added benefit of being excellent communicators, in the written word but especially in face-to-face conversation. Though they dislike the constraints of managing others (and of being managed), this social adaptability allows Debaters to be natural leaders, showing the way forward and inspiring others with sound logic and intellectual prowess. While others may object to these plans with emotional considerations or general resistance to change, things Debaters place little value in, these competing comments are usually outmaneuvered by Debater personalities’ deft arguments and subtly shifting goals.

The best careers reward intellectual competency and curiosity, allowing Debaters to utilize their never-ending flow of ideas productively by affording a degree of spontaneity in how they engage their intellectual pursuits. People with the Debater personality type value knowledge, rational thought and insight very highly, and they make brilliant lawyers, psychologists, systems analysts and scientists. It’s even possible for Debaters to thrive as sales representatives, as they rationalize purchase decisions that may otherwise seem discretionary – so long as their managers know to give them the space they need to work their magic.

Being Busy Doesn’t Always Mean Real Work

Really it all comes down to a sense of personal freedom, for Debaters to know that they are allowed to apply themselves fully to understanding and solving the problems that interest them, without getting bogged down by social politics and trying to figure out what makes other people “tick”. Routine, structure and formal rules all feel like unnecessary hindrances to Debaters, and they may find that their best careers yet allow them to engage their intellectual pursuits on their own terms, as freelance consultants or software engineers.

The key for Debaters is to have the patience to get to a position that allows for these freedoms, to be in an environment long enough that not just their colleagues, but their managers and, in time, their subordinates, recognize what it is that they bring to the table. Debaters have exceptional qualities – it’s quantifying their achievements and skills that presents the biggest challenge. But once they’ve got their foot in the door, once they’ve got a willing ear higher in the hierarchy, the sky’s the limit.

WORKPLACE HABITS

Debaters have straightforward expectations in the workplace, but ones that aren’t always easy to meet. Strong believers in meritocracy, people with the Debater personality type expect their ideas to be heard by those above them, expect robust debate among their peers, and demand that those they manage offer up new solutions and ideas regardless of their positions. While this isn’t always how things play out in reality, Debaters know what to look for, and can avoid those strictly hierarchical institutions that they would otherwise struggle with.

Debater Subordinates

This dynamic is clearest with Debater subordinates, as they are comfortable challenging their managers’ ideas and have a strong (and well-expressed) dislike for restrictive rules and guidelines. Debaters back this unorthodox behavior with their keen minds and curiosity, and are as capable of adopting new methods as they are of suggesting others do so. If something can be done better, it’s as simple as that, and Debater personalities gladly take criticism, so long as it’s logical and performance-oriented.

The biggest challenge for Debater subordinates is that it is often the fate of the “lower” positions to implement the details, do the dirty work and follow through on plans set out by their managers. This couldn’t be further from what Debaters prefer to spend their time on – they can’t stand simple, routine work, and monotonous tasks are the stuff of nightmares. Things go over much better if managers are able to properly utilize Debaters’ preference for tackling complex challenges and diverse projects.

Debater Colleagues

It is as colleagues that Debaters prove most polarizing, as their passions for brainstorming, debate and over-analysis drive more practical, task-oriented colleagues crazy, but serve as stimulating inspiration for those who appreciate the innovation Debaters bring. Nothing bothers people with the Debater personality type more than getting out of a meeting where everyone agreed with the first plan presented, only to hear everyone complain about how stupid the plan was ten minutes later – but they “didn’t want to make waves”. Debaters strive for honest, direct and objective assessments of these ideas, so much so that they often earn reputations for their insensitivity and condescension.

Luckily Debaters know how to relax too, and their witty wordplay, healthy sense of humor and outgoing nature win new friends quickly and easily. Always willing to draw on their repository of knowledge, conversations with Debater personalities are informative and entertaining, which makes it easy for them to be the go-to person for tough problems that stump more rote approaches. Peer-to-peer relationships with Debaters aren’t always easy, but it’s tough to argue that they don’t work.

Debater Managers

While not always their goal, management is often where Debaters are most at home, allowing them the freedom to fiddle with different approaches and come up with innovative ways to tackle new challenges without having to handle the tedious step-by-step implementation of these plans. Debaters are open-minded and flexible managers, not just granting but also expecting the same freedom of thought that they themselves enjoy. This can lead to disorder, conflicting ideas and approaches being put forward, but Debaters are also great at accurately and objectively assessing which plan is likely to be most effective.

This doesn’t always make friends, but being liked is less Debaters’ goal than being respected and seen as intelligent and capable. And liked or no, people with this personality type hold firm ground in rational debates, making them fearsome advocates for their teams. The challenge for Debaters is focus, as they may find themselves jumping from project to project in a quest for challenge and excitement before their teams are able to wrap up the details of their existing goals and obligations.

CONCLUSION

Armed with a powerful intellect and vivid imagination, Debaters can overcome or outmaneuver obstacles that seem unbeatable to most. At the same time, their many quirks, such as often unconstrained rationalism, lead to many misunderstandings.

#|| not everything is as it seems || { about jareth }#|| out of crystals || { ooc }

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dondake · 5 years

Text

[dohifu] love at nth sight

rating: t summary: The power of suggestion compels you! Or at least, it compels Hifumi to reconsider Doppo. Ao3 Link

[=]

It was one of those nights where the champagne was flowing and a new woman cycled in like clockwork to replace one who finished her session - in other words, it was a busy night such that the manager did not mind if Doppo sat in Hifumi’s corner and drank sullenly. Most of his regulars were familiar with Doppo, who dropped by now and then when he wasn’t saddled with overtime, if not by sight but by reputation. The ever professional Hifumi would never speak at length about someone besides his dearest, sweetest customers, but most everyone had heard of his Roommate whom he’d mention at least once a night. His faithful regulars saw too that whenever Doppo was there, peering bleakly into his beer and offering weary responses to any question directed to him, Hifumi tended to perk up, smiled a little wider and gestured a little more enthusiastically. While the club’s manager making the rounds seldom made Hifumi change his behavior, he was noticeably chipper with his childhood friend around. It was speculated that this was why the manager tolerated Doppo’s presence in spite of his gloomy disposition. “Darlings!” Hifumi cried, clasping his hands together. He was addressing his rapt audience of three women and Doppo, staring on his third beer. “I hope you all are having fun! I am...and it would be a shame if you couldn’t share this happiness with me…!”

His antics made the women squeal, the loudest waving her wallet in the air to summon a waiter for more bubbly. Hifumi made a vapid toast after which they all tapped their flute glasses. Doppo was getting tipsy; Hifumi could tell because his shoulders were starting to slack, the tension leaving his naturally strung-up posture. His face was turning slightly pink. It did Hifumi’s heart good to see that his best friend was finally able to relax somewhat after a long day at work. He sat on the arm of the chair Doppo had taken ownership of, tapping Doppo’s knee affectionately to show that he was happy. Doppo responded in kind, sliding his hand up the small of Hifumi’s back and rubbing gently, soothingly. Hifumi was technically not allowed to chat with non-paying customers (Doppo’s beers were mysteriously scrubbed from the ledger, but Hifumi was one of the highest earning hosts so eyes could be turned away), but this was their way of communicating without Hifumi looking away from his girls.

It was because he was looking at them that he noticed the girls sitting closest to Doppo eyeing the way they were touching. He smiled at them, his most charming one, and the closest girl simpered and looked away; but her friend, bolder, matched his grin. “You guys are so close,” she gushed. “Honestly, it’s an inspiration! I can only hope to have friends for life.”

“Yeah, well! It’s hard to not be close when you’ve watched someone through thick and thin! Me, I’ve seen Doppo-chin through so much...like when he ran his first errand for his dad and when his voice changed and when he had his first wet dream and came to me all worried that something was wrong with him…!” Doppo groaned, the perfect straight man to Hifumi’s antics, and the women giggled at his expense. “But it’s okay! Because it’s hard being so handsome....he’s really good at washing my hair!”

Doppo groaned again. “You’re going to run my hands raw with two conditioners on top of your fancy shampoo...I don’t get paid enough for this...I ought to take care of my hands, my manager won’t take it as an excuse if I bleed all over my keyboard…” Still, his fingers rubbed over Hifumi’s spine, through his suit jacket, as if to ground him as he spiralled.

“If only I could find a man so dedicated to me!” one of the girls exclaimed. Before Hifumi could offer himself, she gushed on. “Hifumi-chan! What would you do if Doppo-kun liked you? Like...in that way!”

Doppo’s fingers skidded to a stop, pressed against Hifumi’s back. Likewise, Hifumi was struck dumb for a moment, though he figured it wasn’t a serious point of discussion by the way the girls laughed again, pushing each other by the sheer cheek of the suggestion. Doppo was his most cherished friend since they were both young. Certainly, their friendship waxed and waned over the years, not the lovely, stalwart example of loyalty and good will as the girls insisted, but Doppo - in love with him? The thought was absurd. “Oh! That would never happen...don’t you know how cliche that is? Childhood friends? This isn’t your afternoon soap, or a popular anime!”

“But isn’t that the reason why it would be such a good relationship? Since you two know each other’s faults and bad habits but you’ve gotten past it and stick with each other?” The girls began chatting amongst themselves on which permutation of themselves would be the ideal coupling, but the one closest to them turned to Doppo. “What do you think, Doppo-kun?”

“What do I think about what?”

“Hifumi-chan, obviously!”

Hifumi glanced over, also curious of the answer. Doppo had withdrawn his hand and was now wringing his hands, uncomfortable at being the subject of attention. He settled on rubbing his temples, frowning slightly. “Well...even in such a scenario, I don’t have time to date, much less take care of my own health. No one will want a man who gets stress migraines and sometimes has to be reminded to eat...no, I’m not a desirable bachelor at all. No one would even consider to ask me to be a candidate for their single daughters. Of course, this is completely expected, I’m just a lackluster employee.”

Hifumi laughed, suddenly resisting the urge to reach over and take Doppo’s hands away from his face before they rubbed a bruise. Normally, he’d talk Doppo down from the funk he was threatening to settle into, but somehow he felt too open, too observed. The girl pressed on. “Hypothetically, though...don’t you think Hifumi is a perfect man? Your soulmate?”

“Ooh, yes! Your soulmate!” The word in his mouth made Hifumi’s stomach flip. What a concept! Doppo, his spiritual other half? He had to shove him out of bed some mornings and put up with doing some things by himself on the weekends when Jakurai wasn’t available because Doppo was asleep. He had to take the phone sometimes when Doppo had dissolved into regular apologizing even to his parents because he hadn’t had time to visit. Doppo was hardly the prince in shining armor that Hifumi considered a soulmate to be, something grand and elevated. “Don’t you think I’m soulmate-worthy?”

“Of course you are,” Doppo said, in the same tone of voice a parent might use with their child upon asking if their dreams were possible. “I have no doubt you’ll make someone very happy.”

“That someone could be you,” Hifumi purred, transitioning smoothly back to host as he turned and clasped the woman’s hands. Properly distracted, she forgot about Doppo and accepted Hifumi’s offer for another drink. After four more long hours, the host club closed. Doppo had since gone home to turn in early and after a closing meeting to go over logistics, Hifumi headed home too.

Waiting for him, though cold, was a fast meal that Doppo had prepared before he went to bed. There was no note, no cutesy catchphrase that Hifumi liked to put into Doppo’s packed lunches; it was a simple affair, ready to be reheated. The apartment was deathly quiet, and Hifumi tiptoed around although he knew Doppo could be the heaviest sleeper. Doppo’s bedroom door was closed and there was no sliver of light underneath the door. Hifumi ate his food, exfoliated, and settled into his own bed. It was normal for roommates to look out for each other like that. Doppo cooking for him, on the rare occasions where Hifumi did not make meals for them both, was completely normal. It didn’t mean anything like Doppo was harboring intense romantic feelings for him. In fact, just because he packed Doppo’s lunches and mended his shirts and cleaned the house was nothing special either - his schedule just allowed for it. It would be flattering, obviously, to be liked, but that just wasn’t what it was. Wasn’t it?

Well - no matter. The customers at the club could say strange things sometimes. Hifumi never let it get to him, and this time would be no different.

A few days later, when Doppo stumbled through the door grumbling under his breath and following the sound of running bath water that Hifumi had set up for him, dropping his shoes and socks and coat and briefcase and disappearing into the bathroom, Hifumi put his shoes away, hung up his coat, and fished out his lunchbox to wash for the next day. The box was heavy in his hands, and when Hifumi opened it, the food he had packed the night before was still there. Doppo came out of the bathroom, hair damp and looking only mildly refreshed, to find Hifumi pouting at him over the kitchen table, arms crossed sullenly. “Care to explain?”

Doppo looked down at the still full bento. “Oh.”

“Just because you’re busy doesn’t mean that you can skip lunch. I thought we moved past this! If you’re hitting a busy patch, just tell me; I can make something easier to eat, like onigiri or sandwiches. When you don’t eat, it doesn’t hurt just you, but me, for having put the effort to make things I know you’ll like and will give you the energy to go through the day, and--”

Doppo held a hand up, bringing Hifumi’s monologue to a screeching stop. “No, I did eat today. I was just put on this big contract...working with the procurement department at a hospital that’s going to open on the other side of the district in a few months. They’re a completely new client so we’ve got to win them over...so I went out to lunch with them. Sorry. I should have told you. Even if my manager hadn’t dropped this on me out of the blue, I should have known...should have put one and one together about this new site...sorry, Hifumi. I wouldn’t just leave your food for no reason. I like your cooking.”

Hifumi opened his mouth and found that he suddenly had nothing to say. His face started to prickle and he could feel it turning red, like when a woman walked in before he had put his suit jacket on - but instead of terror, it was a similar feeling of having his feet swept out from underneath him. Doppo had complimented his cooking before; he had never reacted in such a physical way in the past. But before, maybe he hadn’t considered why Doppo would reiterate the sentiment; the Doctor had praised his boxed lunches on their fishing trips before, but he had really only mentioned it once and Hifumi knew his subsequent lunches were equally good. “You like it?” Hifumi found himself saying, his voice pitched unnaturally high. He had to say something - Doppo, who had been expecting more of a lecture, was starting to frown.

“Yeah...like you said, you know what I like and you can make the things I don’t like to eat tolerable. I’d probably be seeing Doc more often if you didn’t keep me on my diet.” If Doppo was concerned about Hifumi squirming and whimpering, he didn’t show it. “Sorry. Really. I didn’t know it was going to make you so upset.”

“That’s not what I’m upset about!” He wasn’t upset to begin with - but he wasn’t sure what he was, at the moment. He decided to change the subject. “Er...but handling a contract? I thought your manager kept saying that you...that he didn’t think...that he didn’t want you handling clients directly.”

Doppo sighed, hanging his head. “That’s what I thought too. But I guess everyone else is also juggling a ton of projects and I was what was left. I mean, serves me right. Bottom of the barrel, last one picked...I need to do my best so the client doesn’t realize this...that they were assigned the runt of the litter, the leftovers, the hand-me-downs…” Right then, Hifumi was there, patting Doppo’s wet hair and rubbing circles between his shoulders. Doppo was still grumbling, but he was now doing it leaning into the crook between Hifumi’s shoulder and neck and going slack. It was not the first time Hifumi felt Doppo’s body heat against him, but it sent another thrill up his spine. Doppo was something of a misanthrope, convinced that he contributed the bare minimum to society, so for him to be so accepting of Hifumi’s affection - surely he liked it? Perhaps even enjoyed it? Hifumi didn’t have many points of reference, so he wasn’t sure if this sort of dynamic was ordinary for old friends.

“Well...for now, let’s just eat dinner so you can go to sleep with a full stomach. Should we warm up your lunch? And then eat some of the side dishes I made along with it.”

Doppo gave a wane smile. “I’d like that,” he said, honestly, without a hint of deprecation. Hifumi stumbled over a chair to get to the microwave before Doppo could see how he was going all fluffy again.

But it was not the last time he suddenly got self conscious of his best friend, though it was so subtle each time that it hadn’t really hit him until he realized he’d gone from worrying about Doppo eating and taking a break to remember to work to live, not live to work - to fretting about whether Doppo had taken offense to an off-handed remark he’d said or whether his aftershave had always smelled so good. Doppo threatened not infrequently to find his own place and to stop being on speed dial whenever Hifumi was being particularly enthusiastic, but lately it troubled Hifumi to hear it. He knew Doppo would never make good on that promise, but the thought of living in the apartment alone without Doppo’s things and the smell of generic drugstore brand soap or the dish set that Doppo had bought in secret as a housewarming gift...well, it made his stomach tied up in knots. Hifumi decided to take a brisk walk to try and clear his mind.

But no matter what he tried to think about to take his mind off the recurring loop of Doppo, Doppo, Doppo, Hifumi was forced to consider that he ought to admit he had a problem. He didn’t think of himself as a simple, impressionable boy, and he was an adult for that matter so not malleable like he was in middle school. Still, the idea that his customer from weeks ago - he’d already lost count, he couldn’t even say a date if pressed - had fully taken root. It would be disingenuous to say he had never considered it; they’d certainly been together for so long it would be expected to be sick of each other. But the passing thoughts of Doppo’s rare smile being charming or the comfortable weight of their hands together whenever one of them was going through a mood were just that: passing thoughts. He’d never given them weight or power. There was just no need to. It was true, that saying that one who fancied you would make it known, and Doppo had never shown any intent of overture. Though, suppose that woman had been right, and he had just not interpreted the signs right, and he had willfully placed Doppo as a friend when he’d wanted to be something else--

“Hey! Don’t short circuit your tiny brain thinking too hard!” It was Ramuda. Hifumi could recognize that bright, bubblegum pink hair anywhere. He was approaching now, quickly, before Hifumi could react. There was a curious grin on his face.

“What are you doing in Shinjuku?” Hifumi asked.

“It’s none of your business what I get up to, is it?” Hifumi could almost hear the hearts and sparkles dripping from Ramuda’s inflections. Matenrou was not a group with the leisure time to enforce turf boundaries, but it was still unusual for a member of another division to be just around. “What are you thinking oh-so-hard about?” Ramuda pouted, as if he sympathized. “Your head was in the clouds! I didn’t even think you would hear me call out to you!”

“My head was not,” Hifumi protested.

“Mmm, well, no one could be surprised if it was. Not like there’s anything in there heavy enough to keep it on the ground!” Ramuda gave a zero calorie smile.

He was getting nowhere with Ramuda. Though childish, Hifumi took out his phone to tell on him. “Well, if you’re really up to nothing, it wouldn’t be a problem to tell Doc that you’re here, huh?”

“Ooh! You’re threatening me? Okay, go ahead. Call him!” Ramuda really was bad news. For Ramuda to go out of his way to visit meant that there was trouble brewing. Hifumi reached his other hand for his mic, but before he could even begin to prepare for a fight, his phone chirped. It was Doppo.

[Won’t be home for dinner, eating out with the client after work. Sorry. Will make it up to you with your favorite cherry tart from that one cafe.]

“Ughh, what’s wrong with you! You have such a gross look on your face.” For a second, Hifumi had completely forgotten Ramuda was there. Before he could stop him, Ramuda had sidled up to him and was reading the message on his phone. “Wha-a-t! Ew! There’s really got to be something wrong with you to fall for that gloomy, old guy!”

“Doppo’s not old! Or...well, his gloominess is because he cares too much sometimes!”

Ramuda looked at him like a piece of discarded gum on the bottom of his boot. “So you are in love with him. Here I was wondering what kind of interesting people Jakurai had decided to surround himself with now. So this is it. That makes me feel like chopped liver. Like, give me back my time when he was obsessed with me, am I right!”

“Love?” Hifumi sputtered. “I’m not...in love with Doppo-chin!”

“Uh-huh,” Ramuda said, sounding unconvinced. “But just a message from him made you look like one of the pretty big sisters who would do anything for me. Hmm. Sure. Well, I don’t care when you decide to figure that out, but if you’re going to be no fun, then I’ll just leave! I was just wondering what kind of pretty ladies were out here...but if they’re charmed by you I might as well go home!” Contrary to his declaration, Ramuda did not turn heel and return to where he came. Jakurai would surely scold him for letting a high profile public enemy off the hook, but there was nothing he could do against Ramuda once the hellion had decided on something. He tried again to draw Ramuda’s attention, to do battle -

“I’m not in love with him. He’s my best friend.”

Ramuda spared him a single, disbelieving look over his shoulder. “Okay then! Enjoy that cherry tart, cherry boy!”

He would, he decided, just to spite Ramuda. When Doppo finally came home, eyes half closed, Hifumi greeted him with a beaming smile, a thousand watts, and took the tart from his hands. Leaning forward, he smelled the buttery scent of the pastry and a whiff of flowery perfume. He put tea on while Doppo changed and he ignored the way his insides felt icy cold. As Doppo sat down to a slice of tart, already dressed in his ratty bedtime sweater so he could go to sleep after the snack, Hifumi carefully studied his face and his neck for telltale signs that he hadn’t been working after all.

“This project is going to kill me,” Doppo groaned.

“Oh? Why?”

“The client org is just full of upbeat, chipper people...I can’t handle the pressure of their smiles. Especially Yamamoto...always saying, ‘We have time, please work at your own pace and give it your all, Doppo-kun!’. Doesn’t she know that only makes me feel less like I can work at my own pace?”

“Ooh~? She’s calling you by your first name already?”

Doppo grumbled in response, a wordless affirmation, and when Hifumi did not immediately begin chirping off more questions about his day, he opened his eyes bleakly. Hifumi still had that unbreakable smile on his face. “What?”

“What, what?” Hifumi singsonged back.

“Hifumi…” Doppo put his fork down, resting against the extra cream he didn’t eat. He had talked lately about eating less sugar, worrying that it was ruining his aging metabolism. “You’re upset.”

“Me? No way! I’m not upset.” To prove it, Hifumi started eating his slice with gusto.

Doppo was always in some state of frown, but it seemed to deepen a little as he watched Hifumi. “Well, if you don’t want to talk about it...do you want to sleep in my bed? That always makes you feel better.” It’s skinship, Hifumi had said years back when they started living together and Doppo had practically screamed in the middle of the night when his roommate slid under the covers with him. It’s how friends become closer! The offer was on the table, accommodating and unaffected.

“No, no, no, no. I can feel better in my bed too! I’m just tired.” Doppo shrugged, as if to say, suit yourself.

Unlike Doppo, Jakurai was less deterred by Hifumi’s insistences. “I insist,” he said, with Hifumi in tow after the blonde offered to help him run errands on a day off. “You say you are fine, but you’ve been awfully clumsy as of late. Sometimes you are so distracted, it takes me some time to catch your attention. Is it another stalker? Please, Hifumi, you know you can tell me your troubles.”

“It’s nothing! Seriously! What would make you think little ol’ Hifumin is troubled?”

“If you are having an argument with Doppo, I encourage you to reconcile. You two have been friends for too long to not settle your issues between yourselves. When we were planning out our material for our next battle, I noticed that you were holding back on sharing your thoughts on Doppo’s suggestions when you normally are freely offering feedback to try and have him - what do you usually say - lighten up.”

“Ah~! Doctor, I can’t believe you’re watching me so much! But don’t worry, there’s nothing wrong with us at all~!”

“Hifumi, you must know that you aren’t convincing anyone with that smile of yours...ah, speak of the devil. There’s Doppo himself.” Jakurai gestured across the street. Doppo was sitting outside having lunch with a pretty woman wearing an equally professional ensemble of a delicate blouse and black pencil skirt. Even on a sunny day, Doppo had the ability to look impossibly frazzled, elbow deep in paperwork. The woman laughed, reaching over to brush his arm with her hand. “I must say, it’s always amazing to watch him conduct business. You would never think, with the way he talks after work, that he has it together to...ah, Hifumi, if you walk so fast, I can’t keep up.”

About a block of Jakurai walking faster than he’d liked, Hifumi turned around with all the indignation of a man scorned. “I’m in love with him!” he declared, his eyes swimming. The words free, the dam broke and Hifumi began utterly bawling in the middle of the street.

“Ah, there, there.” Jakurai pulled him in, his formidable doctor’s coat assuring alarmed strangers on the sidewalk with them that all was taken care of. He patted Hifumi’s back soothingly as Hifumi hiccuped into his chest. “I see. Why don’t we head back to my office and you can explain further.”

Hifumi woke, with the vague horror in his chest that he’d had a minor breakdown in front of Jakurai. How embarrassing, a man his age making a fuss in public. His eyes felt puffy and he felt a strange sense of tranquil calm. Jakurai had listened to him blubber and had no doubt let him wear himself out on the couch next to his desk. Had he even made any sense? Hifumi blinked, making out Jakurai sitting at his desk working quietly before Doppo swam into view.

“He’s awake, Doctor.”

Jakurai turned. “Ah, good morning again, Hifumi. You’ve been sleeping for an hour. I called Doppo to come escort you home; you were in no state for me to feel comfortable letting you go alone and I am simply unable to leave my post here.”

“Mm fine,” Hifumi mumbled, sitting up quickly. Jakurai firmly believed in letting sleeping dogs lie, but he couldn’t help wondering if he’d told Doppo the reason for Hifumi’s sudden outburst. “You have work...I can go home by myself…”

“I already told my manager that my roommate was sick and I had to make sure he was doing okay first,” Doppo said. “Do you want me to go back to the office and say I was lying? He’d have me skinned first. Let’s just go home; don’t bother the Doctor any more today. He’s got a ton of work, probably...just like me…”

Carefully avoiding both Jakurai and Doppo’s eyes, Hifumi went to gather his jacket, which Jakurai had kindly hung up after he’d sobbed to high heaven. “No, just go back. I’ll go...I’ve got a few errands still and…”

Doppo grabbed his wrist. “Don’t be difficult. Do you know how worried I was when the Doctor called me? I thought you’d been caught without your jacket and...I’m sorry, Doctor, we’re making a fuss still. I’m sorry. I’ll bring him home, don’t worry.”

“No! I don’t want to go with you!” He knew he was whining; he could feel his bottom lip trembling. Doppo signed and pulled him along. They took the longer way to the apartment so Doppo could drop something work-related off in the mailbox, and when they stepped over the threshold, Hifumi had gathered quite a bit of emotional energy again.

“Let’s get you comfortable,” Doppo said, taking Hifumi’s jacket off for him. This was ironic, because it was usually Hifumi pampering Doppo after a long day of work. Speaking of work, Doppo would have to return to the office again after this extended break - that was, if Hifumi was lucky. Maybe Doppo would go out on another out-of-office meeting with Yamamoto.

“Don’t like anyone other than me,” he blurted.

Doppo only blinked at him in response, used to Hifumi’s sudden declarations to take them all in stride. “Well...that’s going to be tough, considering I like Doctor...I mean, it’s hard to be in a group together and hate each other, right?”

“No, I mean...I mean at work.”

“I don’t think you need to worry about that at all. If it’s between being stuck with you all day or being in the office all day, I think it’s pretty obvious which one I’d pick.”

“No! I mean! That woman!” Doppo startled at the way Hifumi was near tears again, but hesitated when Hifumi started thrashing around. “She’s totally into you, it’s so obvious. Well, I like you too! I bet I like you more!” Hifumi groaned and sank down in a despairing squat. “I love you, Doppo. I don’t want you to go off and marry that client woman.”

There was a long silence in the foyer. “I’m not going to date a client,” Doppo said finally. “That’s professional suicide. Or anyone in the office, for that matter. I don’t shit where I eat.” Hifumi groaned again into his hands. “Now come on. Don’t be difficult; let’s get you into the living room, if not your bed. Crying really wears you out.” Doppo sounded exhausted himself, as if speaking from experience.

He felt Doppo’s hand on his shoulder, lightly, and flung himself away. “What’s with you!” he cried. “Acting like nothing’s the matter...was that really so shocking and bad that you have to pretend I didn’t say anything?”

Doppo was squatting too, and now he was sighing, a note of frustration clearer than before. “Hifumi,” he said, curt like the way his voice cut during late nights when he had to take work home and fielded a call from a colleague, “I’m not going to treat you any different just because you have feelings for me. I’ve always treated you like I like you since way before.” When Hifumi gaped at him, wide-eyed, he scratched his chin. “...I’ve liked you since we moved in together. I don’t think I would have chosen to live with you if I didn’t more than tolerate you.”

Hifumi flung himself at him, and Doppo went slack, letting the momentum take them both to the floor. “You idiot!” But Hifumi was laughing now, weakly. “Why didn’t you say anything before? Leaving me to look like the fool.”

“Why would I burden you with how I felt? You obviously didn’t notice at all this whole time, and I’m not going to force you to respond to them. Do I really seem that inconsiderate to you?”

Hifumi gave him a long, sweet Hollywood kiss. It was just as good as all the sugary things he’d say to his own clients. Doppo kissed back, a hand loosely flung over the small of his back. “I have to go back to work,” Doppo said. He sounded disappointed, the minute difference in his voice practically unnoticeable to anyone who wasn’t Hifumi. “We’ll talk about this later, okay?”

Hifumi let Doppo roll him off. “That woman likes you,” he said doggedly. “Push her away, okay? Tell her that you’ve got me and you’re not interested at all.”

“She doesn’t really like me. She’s just flattering me to get the contract done her way.”

“Why wouldn’t she like you? I like you, so she could too.”

“Not everyone has bad taste like you do.” Hifumi let Doppo lead him into their living room and fetch him a cup of water. “Okay, I’ve really got to go. Call me if anything comes up. Don’t call me to talk about how much you love me. I’m not going to answer.” Doppo really knew him too well. “Hifumi...I’m happy. Really. I can almost go back to the office and feel like I can finish the day.” He hesitated, almost vibrating with the exertion of confessing, and scrambled out the door. Hifumi watched him, failing to resist his smile despite the crash of the door slamming shut behind Doppo.

Doppo and Jakurai told him to rest, but now he felt like doing anything but. He could make their shared favorite dishes for dinner, along with auspicious red rice. He knew Doppo had a dress shirt with a spot close to a tear he could mend, now with red thread against the white fabric to show that it was love. He could go out and buy them matching couples plates and mugs, to Doppo’s assured horror. He could call Jakurai and tell him that everything had been resolved and not to take it personally if they flirted during practice. Maybe he could post something on Instagram, knowing the other crews tended to keep tabs on each other, so Ramuda would know he was stupid and wrong. Suddenly it all felt so overwhelming that he settled back into the couch, the bumpy middle cushion slotting into his back. It didn’t matter what he did next. They had time. They had so much time.

#hifumi izanami #doppo kannonzaka #hypnosis mic #hypmic #dohifu #canadino fic

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lifeofanadultsucks · 6 years

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Fuck.

Hey there my nonexistent readers. I hope all is well in your world. I know I have been off the radar for a while, but I am back. My goal for 2019 is to post more, it is never too late to get started on a goal.

Okay, today’s topic is a topic that comes up quite often in conversations with my friends. The topic for today is DATING! Yup, good old fashion dating. Please do not get confused, this is not about love or relationships, this is about the search in finding that person.

Last week, I was having a conversation with a friend, who happens to be gay, and he said that dating as a gay man is difficult and that women have it easy in the dating. In this conversation, he argued that gay men that do not have the nicest body or this certain “look” then it is harder to find a man. Being gay and single by the time you are 30, just means you are going to end up alone. He is gay and he is 27, so he still has some years. Keep in mind, my friend is not ugly, he has an average body, and in my eyes he is dateable. I understand his pain, and, trust, I know his frustration. I was about to sympathize until he said, “Women have it so much easier when it comes to dating.”

That was my exact face followed by a “bitch what”. That comment alone got me thinking.

I have been single for the past 7 years. My last and only adult relationship happened and ended when I was 21. We were only together for roughly three months and kept in contact for about 6 months. Contact=sex. I am not going to go into the logistics of why we broke up, just know I was really heartbroken when we called it quits. Listen, you cannot be with me and not tell me you have a wife and boyfriend...yeah...broke my damn heart. He was a class A asshole. Anyway, I have been single for quite some YEARS and the older you get, the harder it becomes to find someone.

There are numerous ways to meet people online, there is Tinder, OkCupid, Plenty of Fish, Zoosk, Match, Eharmony, FarmersOnly, Black People Meet, Christian Mingle, Grindr, and the list goes on. So you would think with all of these sites meeting someone would come easy right? WRONG!! It is so fucking hard to get a date, I am being dead ass serious. I meet guys online all the time, but our conversation never goes past the second or third day. I can’t even get a guy to go to dinner for conversation and drinks. Fuck dinner, I can't even get drinks. I have been in the dating game for 7 years, I have been on a handful of dates, majority bad, a few okay, and a great deal of no shows. I know all about being single and almost 30.

Let me say this before I proceed, there is nothing wrong with being single. There are times when I enjoy it. I love my freedom. I love just doing what I want when I want. I enjoy discovering who I am and I want I want both in and out of a relationship. I am not going to lie, being single has its perks. It is nice. I know some people in a relationship who loved to be single. I understand that 100%. I enjoy my time, but I wouldn't mind sharing my time with someone.

After that conversation with my male friend, I started talking to another friend of mine who happens to be on an online dating app called Hinge. I told her about the conversation I just had about dating. Like me, she agreed that dating for a female is also difficult. It wasn't until our conversation that I realized, “I am lonely as fuck.” I am serious. I have been single for 7 years. In that time frame, I have had friends have multiple relationships, have a relationship, get engaged, get married, and have children. No focusing on the order, the matter of the fact is they have accomplished. In my love life, I long list of one night stands and random hookups plus one shitty ass two-month relationship. And yeah, I am almost 30. In that area of my life, I have nothing to show for it but some wild stories that will make my mom disown me. I am sorry mom, but thank for reading.

Let me see if I can explain this correctly- it always sounds so good in my mind.

There is this curve or this timeline in which things happen that shows that you are #winning a life. By the age of 25, I should have established a relationship, have my own place, graduated college with a 4-year degree, be supporting myself, working a good job, preparing to be a mom, or having a dream of being a mom. At 25, I accomplished none of those things. Okay, I might have one of those things: a 2-year instead of a 4-year.

By the time I am 30, I should be established in a career, a loving girlfriend or wife, have plans of marriage, have children or desire children, children should be somewhere in my future, have my own place, and support myself.

I am hoping to have at least one of those goals completed by the time I am 30. I cannot begin to tell you my frustration with this curve. I see people on Facebook or Instagram posting their happy relationships and their cute children, and it makes me miserable. I could be okay if I were just casually dating for fun or hell just dating. But I have none of that. I have no boyfriend, no one I am talking to, or hell a “friend” that is a nonsexual partner but there is mad chemistry between us. Hell, it would be easier if I had a strong friend group- I do not even have that.

Am I the only one that feels like this? 27 and lonely. I do not have guys texting me. Oh, and online gets weird as FUCK. I can’t even a guy to grab a drink with me. The act of trying to date is frustrating. I used to have this friend that would tell me, “girl, just play the game”. I would respond with a “no, this is bullshit. If I do not put out right away I am a prude, if I put out too early then I am a hoe.” Sometimes there is no pleasing these men. Wait...do not let me have an opinion and feel strongly about a subject, then I am a bitch who needs to tone it down. I had a female friend of mine tell me that. She told me that I am abrasive and I need to tone it down. If I recall, she is still single.

With all of this being said, I was just wondering if I was the only one feeling like this? Older adults ask me all the time if I am married or dating, and when I tell them no, they say things like, “why are you single, you’re so pretty.” BITCH, I DO NOT KNOW, YOU THINK I WANTED TO BE SINGLE FOR 7 YEARS. Oh, my favorite is the “you’re single, you don’t get it.” I wanted to slap the shit out of that old lady when she said that. Or the question of “where is your ring?”. Shit like that gets under my fucking skin.

You think I want to be single. Wake up alone. Sit around the weekends. Do you think I like going out alone all the time? NO. That shit gets annoying. It does. I would love to take cute couples pictures, go on vacations, or meet the family. Hell, I would like to get cute and go on a date.

See how social media works. People post a photo and it makes 800 people wish they had something of that nature. Oh, online dating does nothing for me. Absolutely nothing. It frustrates me. Dating in general frustrates. How dating is portrayed in movies and mainstream frustrates. No one is offering to hook me up. Or I am not falling for my best friend’s brother--I am taking applications for a best friend, DM for details. I am just saying. Dating is hard as fuck. It does not discriminate if you are gay, straight, or Bi. It does not matter.

Dating fucking sucks! It is the absolute worst. If there was someway to make it easier would be great. Seriously. This curve of accomplishment is bullshit. I mean fuck the system. But can how can you say fuck the system when you’re still lonely. Damn. I just have to know, am I the only one who feels this way?

#dating #single #adulthood #gay #straight #bi #relationships #black girl #alone #lonely #reading #questions #interesting #friendship #goal #system #babies #marriage #7 years

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themostrandomfandom · 7 years

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Do you think Bram was ever going to be endgame? I mean the writers tried so hard (too hard) to make them a cute couple and seem perfect for each other and had them fall in love so quickly in the half a season they were a couple. They even went as far as saying that during the school shooting episode that all Brittany could think about when she was alone in that bathroom stall thinking she might be killed was Sam.

Hey, @that-jones-jimmy!

Nah, I don’t really think it was ever a serious possibility—or at least I don’t think that it was something the writers could really make happen even if they personally found the pairing intriguing. The narrative resources just weren’t there, and the probability for a Brittana endgame was always too strong.

If you’re interested, I’ve got a lot of yammering and criticisms of Glee’s writing after the cut.

_______

Even when the writers were trying their hardest to sell Bram back in S4, I don’t think that they were doing so with Bram in mind as a definite or even probable endgame pairing.

For one thing, back when S4 was originally airing, it was still way too early in the series for the writers to be thinking about endgames for any other pairings than their big flagships, which, at the time, were Finchel, Wemma, and Klaine.

The fates for those pairings had been decided upon since S1 in the cases of Finchel and Wemma and the moment Ryan Murphy fell in love with Darren Criss in the case of Klaine. But beyond them, I honestly don’t think any endgame pairings were decided upon until just prior to the start of S6, when the writers learned that the show was going off the air.

Of course, Finchel never got to be endgame due to Cory Monteith’s real life death, but, according to Ryan Murphy, prior to that tragedy, it had always been his intention to have the final scene in the series depict Rachel coming home to Lima to reunite with Finn.

In some cases, the writers probably had pretty strong hunches about certain pairings eventually going the distance, but that wasn’t necessarily the case for every pairing or even most of them, and they literally waited to make some ship decisions until they were already filming the series finale.

I still can’t believe they played Samcedes that way.

While S4 was originally airing, the writers may have briefly entertained a thought like “Oh, hey, Bram seems to be working well. We could maybe keep this going for a while. They could potentially end out the show together,” but I don’t believe they ever fully committed to the idea.

At that point, there were still too many variables at play, ranging from actor availability to fan response to changing creative whims to how long the show could keep going before cancellation.

Maybe if Bram had been a runaway fan favorite pairing, Heather Morris hadn’t gotten pregnant, Naya Rivera had been unwilling or unable to return to the show after S4, and/or Glee hadn’t gotten picked up again during midseason renewals, then Bram would have been something that the writers decided upon for certain.

But as everything turned out, I think a Bram endgame was only ever a vague possibility at best, and especially because Brittana was likely always the first choice for a potential endgame pairing.

Not that Brittana was ever a favorite with the writers—let’s be real: some of them hated Brittana and the fandom and had resented from day one the fact that they had ever been held accountable to make the pairing canon in the first place—but simple math and the Laws of Narrative necessitated that it be given priority.

To follow through with the logic:

Because Santana’s struggle to come to terms with her sexuality became her central storyline throughout the entire series, she had to end the show performing her sexuality in a visible, tangible way that the audience could understand and appreciate.

The writers had always written Santana as having a preference for monogamy in her relationships with women, so she therefore had to end the show with a girlfriend, fiancée, or wife as opposed to just random sexual partners.

In order for the audience to accept that Santana had gotten a happy ending, said girlfriend, fiancée, or wife needed to be someone who appeared on screen and whom the audience liked and liked Santana with. This character couldn’t just be some rando—we’re talking at least secondary if not main character status here.

Because Brittany was literally the only other wlw character who stayed on the show for more than a few episodes, Brittany was therefore really the only choice to be Santana’s endgame partner.

—which is why I honestly feel like, historically, Dantana was a bigger threat to Brittana’s possible endgame status than Bram ever was.

If Dani Waitress had been a big fan favorite and Demi Lovato had decided to stay on Glee indefinitely, then maybe Brittana would have had some serious competition in the endgame department.

But for as long as Brittany was the only other character on the show who was sexually compatible with Santana, then she was always going to have to be Santana’s endgame partner—and especially because Sam could easily be paired with other characters aside from Brittany for his endgame, including Mercedes, Quinn, and even potentially Rachel in the wake of Finn’s death.

So for as much as I think Brittana annoyed the Glee powers that be, they were always at least somewhat aware that Brittana would most likely be endgame—hence why they never, even during Bram’s heyday in S4, did anything to permanently invalidate Brittana. Even though it pissed them off that they had to do so, they always had to keep that door open just a bit, which is why throughout S4 we so often see little hints that Brittana still have feelings for each other and that they’re still drawn together even though they’re not currently dating (see episodes 4x06, 4x13, and 4x22).

Now make no mistake: While Brittana was always the most likely endgame for Santana, I’m not saying it was in any way fully guaranteed. There were certainly outside elements that affected the ship’s potential, such as Heather Morris’s pregnancy and both her and Naya Rivera’s fluctuating commitment to the show as the years went on. Brittana’s “happily ever after” was subject to so many contingencies and had thousands of intricate, moving parts, so who knows what may have happened had any one thing gone differently?

Honestly, when Hemo went on maternity leave following episode 4x22, that could have been the end of Brittana forever. She and Naya also could have chosen not to come back again after episode 5x13. Naya could have stayed “suspended” following S5. They both could have declined to return for S6. It was all a matter of ifs not whens, all the way up until Heya were physically back on the studio lot filming episode 6x02.

So, even with all these factors considered, the question still remains: Why did the writers go full-throttle with Bram if Brittana was seemingly the more likely endgame option? Why did they try to so hard to make Bram fetch happen if the ship was probably going to stop after midgame?

Really, there is no way to know for certain—why did the Glee writers make so many of the bad decisions that they did? what was their logic? did they ever really even think at all?—but I personally believe it all came down to writer choice.

If you look at which writers wrote the Brammiest Bram episodes, the two names that jump out at you are none other than Matthew Hodgson and Ryan Murphy, both of whom were notoriously sour on Brittana and the Brittana fandom throughout S4.

Am I saying that they played up Bram just to spite Brittana fans?

Absolutely.

Not necessarily.

I’m just saying that because they weren’t personally devoted to the idea of Brittana’s love and they didn’t feel the need to treat Brittana as sacred, they got really interested in exploring the possibilities of Bram.

Like I said above, with the exceptions of Finchel, Wemma, and Klaine, no ship’s fate was set in stone prior to S6.

While Brittana was logistically the most likely endgame for Santana, had the writers gotten a more positive response to Bram during S4, they could have potentially continued with it, particularly as, at that time, they had the option to maybe bring in a new female love interest for Santana and develop her over the course of a few seasons, using her to eventually replace Brittany.

The writers probably should have been able to predict the fandom’s negative reaction to Bram before they created it—particularly as they had to break up not one but two popular ships (Brittana and Samcedes)to make it happen—but they didn’t. For whatever reason, they thought that maybe they could convince the fandom to get excited about the pairing.

Again, while I don’t think they were necessarily gunning to make Bram endgame, I do think they were open to possibility that under the right circumstances, it someday could be, and they wanted to keep that possibility open, because for them as writers, having options was a good thing.

The writers thought that if they really pushed that Brittany and Sam were a great match for each other in personality and intelligence and shoved them into a bunch of tropey romantic situations—fake wedding AU among them—people would think that they were cute. Sure, the writers knew that they would probably never win over the staunchest of Brittana and Samcedes shippers, but casual fans would perhaps fall in line, and if they did, then the writers could maybe get some mileage out of their support.

It really came as a shock to them that Bram flopped so hard—and not just with the Brittana and Samcedes fandoms but even with casual viewers and TV critics. While some people did find Bram cute, you would be hard-pressed to drum up anyone who fell deeply in love with them or who when polled would say that they should be together forever.

For comparison purposes: There are just 82 Bram stories on AO3, while there are 475 Samcedes stories and 2259 Brittana stories.

Of course, the Glee writers had somewhat written themselves into a corner following episode 4x04, because they had set things up to where they had purposefully separated their core couples from one another and placed legitimate roadblocks between them to prevent them from immediately getting back together. That scenario meant that even though the writers had broken Brittana up to create Bram, they couldn’t necessarily just throw Brittana back together even if they broke up Bram—not with the girls still living in separate states, not with the problems that had necessitated their breakup in the first place still unresolved.

Further, even if the writers just broke up Bram and left Brittany single for the time being, that would leave them in a fix with Sam, who, following Finn’s graduation, had become the male heterosexual romantic lead on the show and therefore “needed” to be in a relationship with a girl pretty much at all times at least in their view.

With Mercedes, Quinn, and Rachel graduated, the writers felt that Brittany had really become Sam’s “only dating option”—because god knows they would never pair him with Tina or Unique, and Marley and Kitty were busy being part of a love triangle with Jake and Ryder.

Give Unique a boyfriend, you cowards.

The writers would never just allow both Brittany and Sam remain single for the majority of a season, so they decided to double-down on their bad Bram decision and try even harder to make viewers come around to see their side of things. They kept upping the stakes between Bram to show that there was something viable between them, but, ultimately, they forgot the cardinal writing rule: namely, that it is not enough to just tell one’s audience that something is the case; you have to show it, too.

So, as I say in another post,

The writing staff on Glee made MANY mistakes over the years, but one of their biggest and most frequently repeated mistakes they made was to tell, not show—and one of the places where they made this mistake most egregiously was with Bram.

The writers really wanted to make Bram fetch happen, but in the end they fell short of their goal because what they were telling us didn’t carry much weight and didn’t match up with what we were shown.

They told us and told us that Bram was the real deal, but their telling seemed quiet in comparison to the louder, more glaring cues we saw—and particularly as we compared Bram to Brittana and watched Bram eventually unravel and disappear into oblivion, never to be mentioned on the show again.

Sure, the writers engineered a Bram “wedding.” Sure, they had Brittany say that she loved Sam and that Sam was the person she was thinking about during the school shooting. Sure, they had Brittany spout nonsense about how Sam’s the one who really gets her.

But that was all telling, and poor telling, at that.

Brittany’s initial reluctance to date Sam spoke louder than much of her eventual dating him did. Her unenthusiastic response to many of Sam’s romantic gestures towards her spoke louder than all the writers’ telling, telling, telling about Bram as a great romance. The fact that she would rather serenade Lord Tubbington than Sam drowned out anything the writers had to say about how she felt about Sam as her boyfriend. The fact that she would kiss Santana while she was dating Sam spoke volumes.

(Think: She would have never kissed anyone else when she was exclusively dating Santana. She and Santana would never cheat on each other, even in that small way.)

Look to Brittany’s facial expressions throughout S4. Look to how sad she seems and how she appears to just be going along with things to get along. She uses her Brittanyisms as defense mechanisms, and when she’s with Sam she spouts almost nothing but Brittanyisms—baffling statements meant to keep him at arm’s length and confound him. She’s sometimes downright mean to the kid, such as when she talks about how stupid he is when he bombs the SAT and frequently condescends to him after she is proven a math genius.

Her “marriage” to him reads like a huge misunderstanding on her part—and especially because Sam says in his vows to her that they’re soulmates, and she very pointedly does not reciprocate and instead talks about how she honestly never noticed Sam when he first joined glee club (see here and here).

Her fear for and thinking of him during the school shooting scare is genuine, but her statement that he was the only person she thought of in that bathroom stall rings hollow (see here).

When she fears graduation and what might become of her in the future, she blocks Sam completely out and dumps his ass via an incredibly harsh, even vicious text message.

Then, once Bram is over, it is OVER, full stop.

Brittany never regrets ending the relationship. She never pines for Sam or wonders what might have been with him. She never tries to win him back. In fact, eventually, she seems to completely forget they were a couple. By the time she and Santana get back together, it is as if Bram never even happened to begin with.

Bram do, of course, have some coupley moments. They do express affection for each other. They’re certainly physically intimate, and Brittany does choose to remain with Sam throughout S4.

But, like I said, all of that is just quiet, largely unsupported telling—and what it tells isn’t what the writers seemed to have intended to say.

If you look at the big picture with Bram, it is abundantly clear that Sam was never the love of Brittany’s life—and you can especially see that when you compare Bram to Brittana.

Look back to S2, when Brittany wanted so much to date Santana and worked so hard to make it so that they could be together. Her pining for Santana from afar, her lovelorn expressions as she watches Santana try to come to terms with their feelings for each other, her heartbreak whenever something sets their relationship back, her genuine excitement and gratitude whenever something pulls their relationship forward, her emotional responses to “Landslide” and “Songbird” and her and Santana’s every locker conversation—all of those things speak volumes, and loudly.

Brittany was so enthused by even the smallest romantic gesture coming from Santana.

(Compare, for example, her reaction when Sam sings a song to her to when Santana does. In the first case, she will most often look amused. In the second case, she will most often look as if an angel has just come down from heaven and shown her a miracle.)

She was so open and heartfelt with Santana.

When she and Santana were dating, and she had a problem or experienced self-doubt, Santana was the first person she turned to and the first person she disclosed to. She trusted Santana to give her good advice and to help her find her way—and that was even the case when she was dating Sam. It was ultimately Santana who helped her embrace her genius and make the decision to leave Lima to attend MIT.

It was also Santana to whom Brittany returned to time and time again. She dated Artie in S2 and completely forgot she dated him come S3. She dated Sam in S4 and completely forgot she had dated him come S5. But Santana she never forgot about, whether they were dating or not, never mind the season or the day or the hour.

Notice how many times Brittany name-drops Santana, even while she’s dating Sam.

Santana was always the object of Brittany’s heart, from S1 when they were in love in the background to S2 when they tried so hard to figure out how to navigate their feelings to S3 when were officially dating to S4 when distance separated them and Brittany had to let Santana go for a time to S5 when Brittany sought Santana out and laid her heart on the line to S6 when they finally worked out their happily ever after.

Even when Brittany was with Artie and Sam, it was clear that she never fell out of love with Santana.

Her statement that she was Santana’s, proudly so, was never conditional. It was perpetual. No matter who she was with or where she went or what the official status of her and Santana’s relationship was, her heart was always, always Santana’s—which is something Brittany very much proved in S5 with the speech she made to Santana in 5x12.

In retrospect, then, the story Glee actually told about Brittany, Bram, and Brittana is this, regardless of what the writers intended to say: Brittany has been in love with Santana from the start, and Santana was always both her first and last choice. At times, she and Santana couldn’t be together—first, because Santana wasn’t ready for them to be, then because distance and circumstance separated them. Whenever a relationship between them was impossible, Brittany accepted what she couldn’t change and waited. One of her greatest virtues is her patience. She dated other people and tried to find momentary happiness where she could. But Santana was always her endgame, her end goal. Sam was a stopgap. She cared for him, and she loved him in a certain way, for a time. He made her laugh. He was, for the most part, kind to her. He threw himself into their relationship and tried very hard to be a good boyfriend to her. But, ultimately, he never fully understood her, and when she pictured her long-term future, it was never with him. She was always waiting for Santana, until suddenly she didn’t have to wait anymore.

There is such a difference between the hedging, well-I-guess-so way Brittany gives into dating Sam in S4 and the determined, bold, triumphant way she wins Santana back to her in S5. In the one case, she is completely passive. In the other, she is a girl on a mission, out to woo her soulmate and restart their relationship on the way to forever.

Brittany may have loved Sam, but she is in love with Santana—and being with Santana has actually taught her what love is, the full infinity of it.

Really, to discern the difference between Bram and Brittana, one needs look no further than to Brittany’s willingness to fight for those respective relationships.

In Bram, she was a passive entity. She fell into the relationship, moseyed along until it ran its course, and then went her way and never looked back. She never once fought for anything with Sam. She never once initiated anything with him.

Not so with Brittana.

Brittany fought for that relationship. She was brave and started her and Santana on the course to being together. She was the one who said “With feelings, it’s better” and asked Santana to talk to Miss Holliday with her. She was the one who, after the fallout from the Hurt Locker, refused to let Santana completely shut her out due to fear and bruised feelings. She was the one who said she wanted Santana to put on that shirt and come dance with her and the one who offered to ask Santana to prom—to officially come out first, so that Santana could follow her lead.

Brittany spent S2 hoping for Santana, waiting for her, encouraging her, and battling back through each setback so that they could be together. She fought to maintain her belief that because she and Santana loved each other, anything was possible for them.

She continued in that fight even once they were together and after they broke up. So many times, she entreated Santana, “Let’s be together. Let’s be brave together. We love each other so much. You know it’s right. We’re right. Take a chance on us.”

Even after they’d been apart for months, when they were living in different states, when Santana was dating Dani, Brittany never gave up on her. She won Santana back. She got her a room filled with hundreds of lilies. She told her that nothing could ever compare to the sheer rightness of them.

Then once they were finally engaged and on their way to the altar, Brittany fought to make it so that their wedding day would be completely happy for Santana, trying her damnedest to get Alma there and make sure everything was perfect.

So in the end, the bottom line is this:

People who don’t love each other deeply or even at all get married all the time, and many of them make their marriages work. So maybe Brittany could have married Sam and shared a life with him. Maybe she could have even gotten some joy from that life, making the best of things, as she is wont to do in situations where she must.

But there is a big difference between doing something because it could work and doing something because it is absolutely right, and you know it is right down to your bones.

There is a big difference between marrying someone you’re fond of and someone who is your soulmate, your heart of hearts, your one true love.

Santana is and has always been Brittany’s best friend. Santana is the person who just truly gets Brittany and loves Brittany exactly as she is. Nobody makes Brittany light up the way Santana does. Brittany is never more lively and creative and clever and emotive and warm and heartfelt and unguarded than she is with Santana.

So, really, there is no comparison.

Brittany was always going to be happiest with Santana. She married the right person. The difference between “happy after all” and “happily ever after” is immeasurable, and that’s the difference between Brittany being with Sam and Brittany being with Santana.

Whatever the writers tried to tell us in S4, they showed us throughout the whole rest of the show that Brittany and Santana belong together.

Thanks for the question!

#Crazy Brittanalyst answers #that-jones-jimmy

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amethystiridescence · 7 years

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I am so happy.

My life has always been very relatively fortunate. I know there’s no comparison to all sides of a spectrum so its only with my limited perspective and subjective opinion that I can reflect on my circumstances. Its just for the sake of juxtaposition that I mention any of my subjectively negative life-affecting things. With some warning this is to be a very indulgent ramble as I just want to savour how impossibly incredibly wonderful life is right now.

For a start, I finally live somewhere where I can be relaxed and also call it home. After my parents divorced when I was 10 until I was 25, I lived with my mother. She has taken it upon herself to compensate in a very overbearing way for the lack of a father figure in mine and my brother’s lives. It’s left me paranoid, resentful, strained and absolutely living and breathing anxiety and I desperately needed to move out but money and a stop-start pattern in my career after Uni made it impossible. Through sudden circumstances I suddenly had somewhere I could move into and live in my best friend’s beautiful house. I am eternally grateful and forever in his debt for letting me live in such an amazing place. It’s such a roomy and bright place, and he let me turn it as homely as possible. I got to decorate the kitchen in pink and green and light pine, and I made the living room light and dark blue with tons of nerdy books and old school consoles. I have an old PS1 dance mat and Spyro.

My bedroom is unbelievably gorgeous, and my boyfriend who lives with me across the hallway with his own space built me a window seat which I’ve wanted ever since I read an illustrated copy of the Secret Garden when I was 5. I’ve covered my room in fairy lights, printed polaroids of my Instagram, and I sit on my window seat in the sunshine since it faces south and I read with scented candles. I can actually keep flowers in my bedroom now without them dying from lack of sunlight and I buy different colour carnations every few weeks. My boyfriend is going to put up bird feeders outside my window soon. He makes curries with coconut milk and sticky rice and I cook garlicky seafood noodle broths, and occasionally we all inhale one huge takeaway pizza each whilst watching Friends.

I also live in the most beautiful part of the UK. The sea is less than a mile from where I live to the south, and the moors are less than 10 miles to the north. Everything is wide, green and natural and beautiful on the moors and the wild ponies happily eat from your hands.

I went bodyboarding in the Cornish waves the other weekend and the water was so warm and so blue. I also went swimming in my city’s adorable local seaside lido pool in the hot sun the other week. Eddy bought us hot dogs and slushies.

I now have a huge group of fantastic friends and I’m still not sure how I’ve managed to become part of such a incredible group of people. Thanks to a string of aggressive and manipulative bullying in secondary school, my own socialising skills were shot to pieces and I didn’t make friends easily. When I first moved house I felt lonely and without friends and I was panicking about new people. So when I found the University Amateur Dramatics society by pure accident, I couldn’t believe my luck. For some crazy reason they actually seem to like me and want me to be part of their incredible family. They’re all so talented, passionate and affectionate, and I feel honoured to be able to call them my friends. They even encouraged me to act in plays, and my newfound sense of humour and ability to make people laugh still surprises me after several months.

A few of us went swimming and cliff diving together on the moors in a crystal clear running river in a heatwave a couple of weeks ago. I’m going to a wedding reception party with a few of them soon. They gave me a special creative contribution award on their Awards Night with the most amazing speech even though I’ve only been part of them for a few months. I haven’t felt this confident in myself in years and I owe them all so much for that.

As stated before, my career of choice is very stop-start. I went from no experience to a magazine cover, from waitressing to a stint on Game of Thrones prosthetics team to stacking shelves in Tesco for a couple of months. I seized a more stable less relevant job and held onto it hoping I’d manage to do creative things and unfortunately I ended up much unhappier in the job than I thought as I ended up only really doing computer work. The only solace I had was being able to raise a baby crow from a chick and have his company throughout one of the dullest work summers I’ve ever had.

I was stifled and felt stuck, especially since I kept trying to win this 6 month scholarship at a huge makeup school in Hollywood, and I came so close to winning and kept on just missing the mark. When I came the closet I’ve ever been and lost for a third time this year after getting so hopeful in the light of my work going incredibly viral, I was so deflated and planned to leave the job for the first irrelevant thing I could find just to break the unhappy directionless monotony. And then it all happened. I got contacted by a huge entertainment company requesting me specifically to come work for them as a costume designer and makeup artists for international performances, based half hour away from where I live. I’ve been there 2 weeks and I’ve been feverishly creating everyday with and the days just fly by. I’m even going with my team to Texas next month to do the makeup for the event that I’m creating the costumes for. I might even go places like Kuwait or Dubai as well. I can hardly believe my luck. And as if that wasn’t incredible enough, I’ve had a private sponsor contact me about the failed scholarship attempts and kindly offer to sponsor me for a month’s worth of classes at the school next year. So I’m going to work extra hard and pay for an extra month of classes when I fly to Los Angeles in the spring next year. I can’t believe I’ve actually been granted so much generosity and kindness and that I’m now a professional costumer and that I’m going to Hollywood in less than a year.

I start my VISA application this week.

And honestly, I still look back on the work I’ve achieved off my own back this year and I can truly say I’m so proud of what I’ve made. Cosplay is so important to me and I’m so blessed that I can take it and turn it into a career.

We still go Comic Cons at least once or twice a year and I love every second of them.

The boys got really keenly into cosplay this year and made cosplays they adored wearing so much that they went from wearing them for just the one day to all three days of the Con. I’m so proud of them and I love how much they enjoyed themselves.

I got specially invited to a huge London Comic Con at the end of this month as a cosplay guest and I’m staggered by how generous they’re being with covering all my expenses including a plus one. I feel weirdly famous and humbled by the kindness. I can’t believe I’ll be a guest alongside so many real celebrities such as Christopher Lloyd, Alyson Hannagan, Benedict Cumberbatch and my idol Doug Jones.

I am giddily madly and blissfully in love and I feel so warm and strong and sure of it when I remember how unhappy I used to be. It is a huge shame that my previous and longest relationship ended as needlessly bitter as it did. It really didn’t have to happen that way. I wish I had been mature and less scared of being alone and less inclined to retreat into the devil that I knew for all those years. I had no idea how badly matched we were after growing up differently and growing naturally apart. We just didn’t work together and it was making me so unhappy, frustrated at myself for thinking it must have been something wrong with me when in actual truth I just needed different things from a relationship. Consequently I only realised how badly unhappy I was only after I left it.  But Eddy is everything I’ve been needing and more. He is so patient with my whacky temperament, stubbornness and silly quirks. He is the calming, affectionate, assuring bedrock of my life, and my own self-image is so much better for his constant gentle reminders that I am warmly and passionately loved and always seen and even more importantly I can be totally myself without being resented. He encourages me to keep doing everything that I love doing, and he never misses a trick when I’m feeling upset or distracted. He always looks so happy to see me, and his smiles are infallibly genuine and light up the room. He is so ridiculously intelligent and yet he never ever uses it to make anyone feel inferior or show it off. He is so unbelievably unfazed by how anyone sees him and nothing ever embarrasses him, I’ve never seen someone so chilled in their own image such as him. It doesn’t matter how upset or stressed I am, he can instantly calm me down and break past my aggressive stubbornness or soothe my shame.

I love him for the way he can ballroom dance. I love him for the way he loves to cook and still finds time in between stirring saucepans to wrap his arms around me and dip me towards the floor even if its just to get an indignant squeak out of me. I love him for the way he animatedly talks about facts, history, art and gaming logistics with ease and humour as if its not things to be recited, its things to be actively and keenly discussed. I love him for the way he is shameless about what he loves, whether its a beautiful piece of art or a really bad internet joke.

I have a cupboard specially for all my teas. I have over fifteen types and three types of hot chocolate. I serve the hot chocolates with mini marshmallows. I keep a list on my phone of all the silly stuff Eddy has said that’s made me laugh. I’ll publish it one day.

 I got to decorate the house with autumnal decorations last autumn after mum wouldn’t let me do it at hers. I put orange maple leaves everywhere and real pumpkins displayed with dried leaves. I regularly lit cinnamon and apple scented candles. We had a pumpkin party with toffee apples and toasted marshmallows on a bonfire in the garden. I carved the silhouette of a crow into a pumpkin.

One of my friends from the society lent me a book that made me cry. I’ve bought my own copy. She makes amazing cakes and looks like an elf queen. I’m going to her birthday BBQ tomorrow.

My cosplay got featured in a magazine again.

I got a new duvet cover with the Little Mermaid on it, and a phone power bank shaped like a unicorn. I can love pink, girly pastel things again without feeling embarrassed. I love having pink hair.

We had an incredible Christmas tree last year. I made and ate so many Devils On Horseback and drank a lot of mead.

Eddy took me ice skating for my birthday. We went to see his favourite band in concert at the same place a month later. That following evening he massaged my achy post-heels legs. We listen to the same band when we cook together. He loves to sing along to any music.

It snowed before my birthday again. We went up to the moors early in the morning and it was absolutely breathtaking. We rolled around in the snow and I petted the snow-dusted Dartmoor ponies.

I had a phonemail with my best friend of 20 years earlier today. She’s coming to stay with us for a week soon. Her voice hasn’t changed since we were 13. She still smells like she did when we were 6. We went to the Tower of London as invited by the Ravenmaster himself and met one of the ravens. We also went to see a Steven Spielberg tribute Philharmonic Orchestra concert later that day. She drew me whilst sat on the tube.

I caught the cherry blossoms this year on really warm days. Eddy shook the tree over me so I got coated in pink petals. I got iced matcha from Starbucks later that day.

I acted in a play that started with everybody laughing then finished crying. I loved every second of it and I loved my cast and I loved the play itself. I love acting now.

I think Eddy’s family likes me. They took me to Disneyland the other week for Eddy’s sister’s hen party. Eddy’s mum fixed my skirt for the wedding and she also fixed my dress for the wedding of Eddy’s other sister last year. Both his parents cried and hugged me when I told them about Hollywood.

I bought a scrapbook with unicorns on it. I’m going to print of as many polaroids as possible to stick in it with glitter glue. I’ve been covering everything in rainbow, Pokemon and dinosaur stickers.

I never want to forget feeling this happy.

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glamglitterandgoblins · 4 years

Text

I just put Jareth through a personality test and this is so important to who he is as a character, I’m posting not only the results but what they mean.

RESULTS

ENTP-T: Extroverted Intuitive Thinking Prospecting – Turbulent ( the Debater )

MORE DETAILS BELOW THE CUT

INTRODUCTION

There Are no Rules Here – We’re Trying to Accomplish Something!

Opportunity Is Missed Because It Looks Like Hard Work

STRENGTHS & WEAKNESSES

Debater Strengths

Debater Weaknesses

ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIPS

Show Me a Satisfied Man, and I’ll Show You a Failure

Genius Is One Percent Inspiration and Ninety-Nine Percent Perspiration

FRIENDSHIPS

The epitome of Debaters’ friendships is when someone can hold their ground in these arbitrary debates with valid, rational arguments.

When You Play, Play Hard

The Worst Thinking Has Been Done in Turmoil

PARENTHOOD

Be Brave, Have Faith, Go Forward!

There’s a Way to Do It Better – Find It.

CAREER PATHS

The Value of an Idea Lies in the Using of It

Being Busy Doesn’t Always Mean Real Work

WORKPLACE HABITS

Debater Subordinates

Debater Colleagues

Debater Managers

CONCLUSION

#|| not everything is as it seems || { about jareth }#|| out of crystals || { ooc }

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trendswithstockvideo9-blog · 7 years

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Photos Show Amazon Tribe Untouched By Civilization Stare In Wonder At Plane

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tadasvinokurblog · 7 years

Text

‘Box Man’

Tadas Vinokur

‘Box Man’

N.B. This play is without scenes or acts.

The spectators will find the curtain closed. After the play commences and the curtain is raised, spectators will see a bourgeois study - a room that contains a desk (directed at spectators), a carpet, couple of drawers and a clothing rack with a women’s dress hanging on it. ��Most importantly, there is a box on the stage. The box is sufficiently big enough to comfortably fit a grown woman.

On the wall, across the stage, there is a poster which says in neon letters: ‘Georg is full of shit!’.

The male actor sits at his desk. He is very well dressed. His looks should be immaculate, polished to the degree of male queerness within film noir. The model for the male actor’s overall looks should be Johnny from the movie ‘Gilda’. One of male actor’s shoes is untied.

The female actor is in the box. There’s a door at the back of the box - which audience can’t see - that will ultimately allow Laura to escape.

Throughout the play, the male actor is supposed to be working; I.e., he reads a newspaper, he scribbles something, he contemplates, he listens. Georg’s overall demeanor/attitude is a little manic. He suffers from bipolar disorder. He is often agitated/anxious. Mood swings are a frequent occurrence with respect to Georg’s character.

Curtain is raised.

Georg is reading a newspaper. Couple of moments pass. He puts the newspaper aside. Looks at the Box.

Georg (apathetically) This feels Kafkaesque.

Laura You’re mad! This circumstance is surely Machiavellian.

Georg It feels like I’m in a box..

It’s a little damp in here and my shoes are undone.

(Pauses) Ennui..

I was reading the news today, it turns out capitalism is a fickle creature.

It used to be in favor of boxed welfare, now - apparently - capitalism is reproaching that issue. (Pauses) It’s not really an issue though - it’s just that it smells weird here.

Anyhow, I need to act, I need to resist..

Either that, or neoliberalism will put boxes in the hands of the few.

Disparity with respect to boxes is very obvious already.

They will try to deinstitutionalize my asylum. Next thing you know, they will put boxed men - like me - in prison.

I shall therefore read about civil disobedience.

Where should I start?

Henry Thorough?

Ghandi?

Rawls?

No, I know!

I should tie my shoelaces first - After all, I ought to be able to stand up to injustice.

Georg ties his shoelaces.

Laura (casually) My day was good.

Georg Good, I want you to be happy.

What is this thing behind my back? It’s slimy and hard.

Finds a chalice behind his back.

Right!

It’s the chalice I used during yesterday’s Mass. I was coming back to Jerusalem.

Oh, you should have seen it!

(with admiration) It was GRAND! Pious crowds cheered! People exalted me! Jubilations commenced!

It’s amazing what awe-inspiring things can transpire in my box.

I also had this soggy piece of tofu. Where is it? I had some coconut milk and a piece of tofu, blood and body!

(Anxiously) Where is it?

Without it I shall not resist, Without it - I can’t resurrect.

(calmly) I’m stuck in my box, I have to admit.

People will not show up for the eucharist.

Laura How was your day?

Georg You know how it was. I’m baring the box. Don’t ask me that.

Laura (apathetically) Fine.

Silence

Georg (restlessly) Well, if you really want to know..

Logistics with this box is excruciating.

By the time I’m at work I’m already weak, disabled, wrecked.

(sighs) I become a misanthrope at work. I despise those philistines around me. Their paltry existence gets on my nerves. However, I act as Moliere’s Alceste did - I try to be courteous, affable.

(thinks) You know, Laura, at work there is this lady - her name is Celimene. She keeps bossing me around.

But I don’t mind it. I mean, such behaviour is only fitting.

I love Celimene, she’s a lady of good grit.

I hate the others, they’re too courteous - they’re cogs in the system.

(disgusted) They’re slaves.

Scum.

Vermin.

Celimene is a lady that tells me how it is.

Oh, by the way!

I love you Laura.

Laura I love you too.

Georg As far as my love is concerned - it’s no charade.

True, I’m with the box, but I can nonetheless appreciate love. I learned this from Diotima of Mantinea.

(Hyperbollicaly) In the mean of the wise and the ignorant I attain love. In the mean of the box and the open-space I solidify love. In the mean of depression and elation I redefine love again..

Laura (interrupts Georg) Perhaps it’s a case of bipolar disorder?

Georg Be that as it may, mortal nature is seeking as far as possible to be everlasting and immortal. My love is in the mean of two opposites - mortal and immortal. I mediate those opposites, hence - I love you.

Laura I don’t understand. Sounds like a bunch of platitudes.

Georg Of course it does. I’m baring the box.

Guilty as charged!

Strike me - if you will - with electro convulsive treatment.

It’s a damn box! Only soundbites can reach you!

It’s a verbal hypomania - I will use ‘pressure of speech’ and ‘flight of ideas’, I will be punning and I will make humorous associations between concepts.

But I can’t prove my love to you, can I?

I can’t make love to you..

I can only talk love to you..

Laura I guess you can’t. Georg I can’t what?

Laura You can’t love me.

Georg (shouts) No! You wicked Celimene!

(calmly) My apologies, I didn’t mean to be scathing.

Listen, Plato said philosophy is love. And that’s absolutely crucial!

Like Diogenes, I sit here baring the box.

All I have is my sun. Well, in this case I only have my chalice. Can’t find the tofu..

(mutters to himself) there should be some tofu left on the altar..

What was I on about? (thinks)

Right.. Love!

(enthusiastically) Well, Rimbaud said we need to reinvent love.

That’s what I do here in this box.

And you should appreciate, nay - you should be thankful, Laura!

Just, consider this for a second:

there’s disjuncture here, you roam around the world, I sit baring the box.

Our situation involves two people.

Two.

Two perspectives that are very different.

I can’t inflict upon you what Paris inflicted upon Helen - I can’t abduct you, I can’t put you into my box.

We would lose something, wouldn’t we? I wouldn’t dare to undertake such an escapade. Two perspectives would be lost. We would encounter each other - I would be a man with no box to bear.

A man with no box to bear is no man at all.. Consequently, we are in luck. We are two people, and we construct the perception.

It’s not a perception of one person, but a perception of Two.

You see, through us - both of us - imagination takes power!

(solemnly) L'imagination prend le pouvoir!

Laura What’s wrong with encountering each other?

Georg Why do we have to get bogged down in these quaint, romantic cliches? It’s much better this way - this situation makes us equal.

This situation is egalitarian, we participate mutually through each other’s perspective.

If you had been a woman with a box, that wouldn’t have made sense - we couldn’t encounter each other at all. We would be blind, deaf, oblivious..

Now, It’s a perfect match, isn’t it?

I sit here, you wander around over there..

We don’t have to worry about the encounter!

No, love has nothing to do with an encounter.

We are better protected this way - if we were to see each other we would not live up to each other’s expectations.

Imagine us confronting the corporeality of each other?

That would be obscene, grotesque..

(emphatically) Horrendous!

Now, luckily, we know exactly where we stand - I have a box and you don’t.

Simple as that.

Remember Wagner’s Tristan and Isolde? Well, Laura, you see what happens when two people deprive themselves of boxes?!

Sad!

Tragic - very bitter indeed!

One ought not to tear the confines between Beatrice and Dante! By the same token, I shouldn’t be deprived of my box.

(silently) Apparatchiks will take me to prison, soon.

Very soon.

I shall blame R. D. Laing… (pauses)

Indeed, come to think of it - I’m much like the florentine bard.

You will take me to heaven and I will lurk there in a box - I will sing the dithyramb.

You know, if this box is worth a damn, it is because this box forces Dionysius to jubilate.

All my quips aside, really! And I’m not talking about myself. No. With or without me - this box is special.

That’s where the events transpired - I came back to Jerusalem. If it wasn’t a box it would be the holy grail. With some tofu inside.

(mutters quietly, looks around the room) Can’t find it. There was the liturgy and then the rite, a little tefillah.. Where could it be? Perhaps deacon took it.

No, I’m certain he was on secondment to Damascus.

I hope he is able-bodied.

I worry about him, he’s a feeble man - prone to epilepsy.

(Saddened) Ennui, ennui again..

Lack of tofu.

Dreadful privation.

And to top it all of - they might take me. They really can! I communicate authentic, vivid experiences, verisimilitudes.

(thinks)

They’re supposed to contribute to my schizophrenia, they mustn’t affirm my identity, let alone romanticize my trauma. Again, I blame Szasz.

(growls, fidgets)

Going back to the subject of sex-antagonism.. Was that what we talked about? Or was it love?

Doesn't matter - the crux of the matter is that it’s not over.

Laura What’s not over?

Georg Well, as Rebecca West said, it’s not over.

Laura What is?

Georg Sex-antagonism. But don’t be dazed just yet! I love you nonetheless.

Laura Love you too.

Georg That’s how we overcome said antagonism - I sit here, baring the box.

Castrated and - I know, it might be of surprise to you - a little anxious.

Really.

Somebody might damage the most important of my jewels and frankly - I’m experiencing a little bit of restlessness.

I’m afraid one day I will not be able to tend my box anymore.

Somebody might show up and say that the existence of boxes does not entail the identity of a boxed man.

And then they will take it away, I swear.

Once, they actually did try to take it away. (sighs)

I was in between of ages three and five. I played with my favorite tin soldier by the name of Werther. Once, Werther lost the battle of Leipzig. It was just a matter of bad luck.

A trifle, a non-event!

However, the parent of the same sex nonetheless approached me, disciplined me for not appreciating the gravity of the situation and threatened to damage my box.

Then I got expelled to the Elba orphanage. From that point on, I developed an unconscious fear of damage that could be inflicted upon my box.

God forbid!

It could be taken away! (calmly) I swear.

Hence, as long as I still bear the box, you should remember how democratic this situation is: it’s not a monologue of the box, but a dialogue of two. I put forth a thesis, you answer with an antithesis. I sit in the box - you roam out there. Free like the feminine of Goethe's likings. Unfettered.

Don’t forget that, my dear Celime..Laura.

Laura I bought myself new earrings today.

Georg They look great.

Laura You’re no witness to my purchases.

Georg Are you saying I can’t appreciate your accessories because I’m in this box? Nonsense.

Listen, Laura, earrings are great - Shakespeare wore it.

I wouldn’t do that though - I have no penchant for body modification.

For me, committing to a body by altering it means sitting in a box and pretending that I’m galloping in the meadow while the rest of the laymen yearn for my carnal, mutated, fleshy organic mass.

That would entail servitude - scopophiliac schmoozing between master and the slave.

I have no appetite for titillation of master’s gaze.

I’m closed.

I’m baring the box, and hence I’m liberated. Shackled.

No one can observe, monitor or eyeball me.

There’s no tacticity, voyeurism - mere sound-bites coming out of the black abyss..

(thinks)

Earrings!

How would that look?

Laura Are you asking whether they look good on me?

Georg No, you sweet scoundrel. I know it looks marvelous. I’m asking in what way do they look so dazzling?

Out of mere curiosity I voice the latter interest.

If I’m not galloping in the meadow - surely you are.

Unrestricted soul can readily enlighten the tethered one, oh mistress - set me free.

I therefore want to know: where do those earrings appear in the spur of the moment?

For example, do they hang or do they clasp?

Are they gold or silver?

Are your ears at ease when you wear them?

Are you conscious of wearing the earrings while you do?

If yes. Do you wear the earrings because you endure the stimuli?

If yes. Can one bear an accessory that would be strictly extraneous without the overpoweringly visceral reminder that one is a coquette that accessorizes?

If you’re the lady that accessorizes, do you accessorize for me, for my dreams?

For my affliction and jubilation when I’m situated in a dark, humid box?

If that is the case, can you be my wish-fulfillment then?

Can my dreams relieve me of the pain that I feel when I’m no witness to your earrings?

Will the dream-work soothe my dementia?

Will I displace my grudges by positioning your earrings within the illusionary mise en scene?

Will I condense my fright, anguish, lust, claustrophobia onto the earring?

Surely, that might happen, but first I need to fathom the following:

(slowly) Do they clasp or hang?

Gold or silver?

Are they small or large?

What style are they?

Are they vintage, contemporary?

Can one detect symbolism in them?

Laura is silent.

One has to imagine a mirror,

I see you, Laura, in that mirror,

wearing earrings, tenderly awry,

flesh-and-blood of the picture effortlessly curbed,

Phenomena of your attributes soars through the warped insignia,

Your earrings glide within unruly dream-work,

They fuse, proliferate, like shreds of paper in windswept dusk,

Madonna, in a room of her own - gripping 500 pounds,

Proud and resolute in her monumental deeds,

Like George Eliot, though without phallocentric boxes,

Illustrious in her uncluttered meadow,

Like Shakespeare’s sister, yet without a tainted body,

Eschewing hindrances - trumping obstacles,

Proving suffragists passe,

Creating new instruments,

Inventing, molding, shaping future,

Serving avocado toast for breakfast!

With earrings, tremendously compelling,

Synecdoches of ecriture féminine,

Laura becomes, she becomes a woman,

Accepts masculine values and harnesses history,

Doesn’t cling to the privileges of the Box,

Becomes a full-scale human being,

At the great moment of awe - it knocks me down,

When I gaze at you, out there, autonomous and apathetic,

No interest in me - I recall Rita Mae Brown,

Then I know - you will not make love to me.

You were never meant to encounter me, touch or caress me, Even if you wished for it - we know it’s erroneous!

I’m the monster, phantom, leppard of the Box. Utterly beneath you!

You wield the history - unboxed. Laura, paris veut une masse! Relinquish fleshy intimacy and wear your earrings proud!

(pause)

You wield the history, unboxed..

I know this, because I’m in the box,

The box, that deems me Other,

Fixed, like Odysseus’ duty

Stagnant, threatened by the inevitable - prison,

Natural lump at the center of the burgeoning space ,

Box, that renders me mystical, exotic and veiled,

Confused male mystique,

A non-human, that will be brought to justice,

Now, (laughs) I’m denied justice due to social deviance - (screams) THE BOX!

They will separate psychiatry from the state,

Then they will castigate involuntary treatment,

They will give me legal rights,

And I won’t find my tofu.. My flock won’t assemble! No doubt about it!

Don’t abolish insanity defense,

Insane, they require Boxes!

Like junkies need dope, comedians need tyrants,

Mad need their cells!

Hence I demand, I demand coercive box-policy!

While you, Laura, go! Wield the history! Godspeed!

Laura Georg, we should wield our relationship first - tell me, where we going to live from September on?

Georg (emphatically) Laura, isn’t clear that I’m stuck here?

(mutters) unless of course, they will take me..

Laura Oh, I forgot to tell you, I met this person.

I told them about your box.

Silence

Georg What do you mean?

Laura I told them about the box.

I told them about the tofu, chalice, coconut milk, Jerusalem - the whole lot! The person knows that you’re afraid of someone taking your box.

Georg That’s private. I mean, such information is very delicate. You know that, right? Laura?

Laura This person had some good suggestions though, they can help me to help you!

Georg There is nothing you can help me with. Just settle down and be free!

Stay there and live . . . . . stay there and blossom . . . . stay there and thrive! . . . .Stay there and begin to fathom how lucky you are . . . . . . stay and roam, wander - meander gleefully . . . . . Stay bodily, let loose the ethos . . . . .Like the Cartesian that once ruled the dictum . . . . . Bow! . . . . Reshape yourself with intellectual prowess,

(melancholically) settle down, kind Laura, settle down...

Forget Hans Castorp’s x-ray - disavow your flesh!

Idle, Laura, Idle!

With no box to bear - your agency is immortal!

With no box to bear - you can stay there . . here - at liberty!

With no box to bear - dare to use your own reason!

Idle! Disseminate the erudition!

With no box to bear - you are the Gaia without Chaos,

Without male assistance - open up the skies! Where boxes, like gods and druids, are bereft of life!

Settle down, Laura! Observe me!

. . . . . Look at me! . . . . a captive of Tartarus.

Me? ‘I am body and soul!’ - I assert this due to the box I bear,

Like Zarathustra, I perform the box - I perform my body,

My spirit is the accomplice to the box,

A trifle without it!

Bid farewell to the box - become dumb, become imprisoned!

Bid farewell to the box - abdicate fidelity to ethics. To you, Laura!

Bid farewell to the box - be a slave to the temporality of instance!

No loyalty, no allegiance, no devotedness - no reciprocity!

Unaware of eternal recurrence - I would endure the metonymy without sacrifices of the Jester!

Laura You wish that everybody had boxes?

Georg For some of them - it’s not a matter of choice.

Some of my parishioners are members of the political society, they wage bloodless war against the naysayers - the boxed men and women, members of the civil stratus.

They would rather see proletariat imprisoned within the gig economy.

Wherein you constantly reinvent yourself - construct a plethora of masks and spectacles.

To quote Kierkegaard: ‘Do you know that there comes a midnight hour when every one has to throw off his mask?’

Do you know, Laura?

I can love you, because I can reveal myself. To state the obvious - I’m the Box.

No spectacles here, no ploys or charades.

I say mea culpa, but that is the truth of the matter..

Can one say this even more crudely? I’m the hamartia! The serpent! Persona non grata! Seed of the serpent!

(sighs)

Elephant in the room..

Laura I’m actually really intrigued - I want to make you squirm! Oh, dapper, you!

Georg! The forbidden fruit!

You will shriek and howl.. (thinks)

(casually) But that’s just inevitable..

I have to test your capacity to reveal yourself - your buttox,

your penis,

your skin,

your saliva.

Until it fidgets, drips or is rendered stiff - I will not capitulate.

Georg (anxiously) What do you mean? You’re mad! I’m barred from you, Laura. You can’t change me, I’m already a pariah - a Boxed man.

Through my bowels currents of revolution flow.

Laura Even a boxed man is not impervious to stagnation.

Georg Either kill me or take me as I am, because I’ll be damned if I ever change.

Laura I will call you Juliette. You hear me, Georg? I will call you Juliette!

You’re in the box, does your name even matter?

Don’t be afraid - I will merely set your body free.

Now, Juliette, allow me to see you!

Georg slowly starts undressing, he is confused and petrified. Georg’s hands are shaking.

Georg Stop this interrogation, I demand you, Laura!

This is an infringement of my privacy!

Your words, they penetrate, they mutilate my Box.

I thought we had an understanding - we partake in the relationship between two equals.

We cooperate in the dialog between the free and the fettered.

You roam out there - I sit in the Box.

Simple as that.

We embrace the experience of the world from the perspective of difference.

Listen, Laura, life is being made - no longer from the perspective of one, but from the perspective of two!

Georg puts on a woman’s dress.

Laura begins kicking, punching the walls of her box.

Georg Stop it!

You can’t see me!

I won’t allow it.

You sweet virago!

You can’t take away my box!

You little scoundrel!

Laura (screams) I’ll show you the world. You said you were orphaned, Juliette?

(brazenly) Would you like to meet Noirceuil and Saint-Fond?

You could be their mistress, Georg!

Anatomically boxed in a male body,

You could easily be feminized!

Aren’t you goal oriented, Juliette?

‘L’impossible Monsieur Juliette’!

Georg Stop it! Don’t damage my box! You damn Celimene!

Laura You committed a crime, Juliette! A serious one at that! Remember the robbery? When you wore men’s clothing and you robbed me of my box?

Georg You’re delusional. (starts pacing nervously around the stage, makes grimaces, grotesque hand gestures)

Music . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Laura keeps on trying to escape - to break through. Some scratching, moaning, gasping can be heard.

Laura - Music (together) Remember. . . what . . . . . Noirceuil. . . . . . asked you to do? . . . . . . . . . . . . Juliette? . . . . . He asked you. . . . . . . . to worship his . . . . . . . erect . . . . penis . . . . . . . . . . . . . You probably . . . . . . are aware . . . . . . . . how dangerous . . . . . . . are men . . . . . . . .when their boxes are erect . . . . . . . . . . . sometimes I think . . . . . they would just love it . . . . . . . . if the whole . . . . . . . . . . universe would . . . . . . .cease to exist . . . . . . . while . . . . . . the box is still erect! . . . . . .Moberti said that! . . . . . . . . . . . Remember, Juliette?. . . . . . . . Georg? . . . . . Who has the box? . . . . . .Can you answer me that? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Your fright . . . . . . Your angst was always belated . . . . . . my lack of box . . . . . . . . . my absence . . . . . . . . . was . . . . always secondarily so . . . . . . through . . . . . . . the specular turn . . . . . . . . . you arrived at my genitals and . . . . . . . . said ‘Lack’! . . . . . . . . . . the anxiety of castration . . . . . . . . . . .became coherent . . . . . . . . when you looked at me . . . . . . . . . .and fathomed . . . . . . my present absence . . . . . . . . my ability to move while staying . . . . . . . . my ability to roam while settling down. . . . . . . my present absence of the box . . . . . . the penis . . . . . . . . Binaristicaly . . . . . . you . . . . . put my clitoris . . . . . . . under . . . . . the narcissistic ideal . . . . . . . . . . . under the . . . . . . atrophied Positivity! . . . . . . . You thought . . . . . . you stage . . . . . your own servitude? . . . . . . . By shackling yourself? . . . . . . How is Dominatrix . . . . . . . a free agent? . . . . . . Juliette?! . . tell me! . . . . . . . . I could not even . . . . . carry out violence! . . . . . . . I was rendered . . . . . . cold and apathetic . . . . . .the moment . . . . . you instigated . . . . a theatrical . . . . . . . . reciprocity . . . . . . . . . . . one based on . . . . . . . . . . suspension of violence . . . . . . . . through the endless . . . . . . repetition of the . . . . . . . interrupted gestures . . . . . . . . . . . . Juliette! . . . . . . . . . Georg! . . . . . . you establish . . . . . . you decided . . . . . what I am to think about you . . . . . . . . . how should I feel . . . . . .what earrings I should wear . . . . . . . . you assumed the stance . . . . . of the stage . . . . . director . . . . . . . . and kept explaining . . . . . . . the parameters . . . . . . . of our ‘boxed’ situation . . . . . . the most intimate desires . . . . . . became . . . . . . . objects . . . . . . . of contract . . . . . . . . and composed . . . . . . . . . . consultation! . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . and you have never . . . . . . even seen me! . . . . . . Through point de capiton . . . . . . . you communicated me . . . . . .through . . . . . . signification that is limited . . . . . . .retroactive . . . . . . . .within . . . . . the limited . . . . . . boxed . . . . . . bounded . . . . . . .context . . . . . . . . . . . when the materiality of the boxes . . . . . . unfold . . . . . Juliette! . . . . . . you will comprehend the . . . . . . . excess materiality . . . . . . . which . . . . . . has no boxes . . . . . . No boxes! . . . . . There is no Man in the Box! . . . . . . Juliette! . . . . . . . This is about . . . . . . . the search . . . . . . for libertines . . . . . .who . . . . . could . . . . . strike you with . . . . . the thunderbolt-phallus . . . . . . . after which there is no box that would allow to scrutinize . . . . . nature! . . . . . . . There’s only . . . . . . the box . . . . . and the nature . . . . that will devour you . . . . . . . . obliterate you . . . . . . .There is no man in the Box, Julliette!

Laura finally finds a way to escape the box. Immediately leaves the stage. Doesn’t look at Georg.

Georg stops nervously pacing. Picks up his chalice. Sits down next to the desk, places the chalice in the center of the desk. Takes the piece of tofu out of the drawer - places it on the table. Looks at the cornucopia on the desk and smiles. Georg is happy.

Slowly raises the Tofu above his head.

Georg The body of Juliette! (screams out triumphantly)

Raises the Chalice up.

Georg The blood of Juliette!

N.B. Curtain drops.

The End

0 notes

tadasvinokur · 7 years

Text

‘Box Man’

Tadas Vinokur

‘Box Man’

N.B. This play is without scenes or acts.

The spectators will find the curtain closed. After the play commences and the curtain is raised, spectators will see a bourgeois study - a room that contains a desk (directed at spectators), a carpet, couple of drawers and a clothing rack with a women’s dress hanging on it. Most importantly, there is a box on the stage. The box is sufficiently big enough to comfortably fit a grown woman.

On the wall, across the stage, there is a poster which says in neon letters: ‘Georg is full of shit!’.

The female actor is in the box. There’s a door at the back of the box - which audience can’t see - that will ultimately allow Laura to escape.

Curtain is raised.

Georg is reading a newspaper. Couple of moments pass. He puts the newspaper aside. Looks at the Box.

Georg (apathetically) This feels Kafkaesque.

Laura You’re mad! This circumstance is surely Machiavellian.

Georg It feels like I’m in a box..

It’s a little damp in here and my shoes are undone.

(Pauses) Ennui..

I was reading the news today, it turns out capitalism is a fickle creature.

It used to be in favor of boxed welfare, now - apparently - capitalism is reproaching that issue. (Pauses) It’s not really an issue though - it’s just that it smells weird here.

Anyhow, I need to act, I need to resist..

Either that, or neoliberalism will put boxes in the hands of the few.

Disparity with respect to boxes is very obvious already.

They will try to deinstitutionalize my asylum. Next thing you know, they will put boxed men - like me - in prison.

I shall therefore read about civil disobedience.

Where should I start?

Henry Thorough?

Ghandi?

Rawls?

No, I know!

I should tie my shoelaces first - After all, I ought to be able to stand up to injustice.

Georg ties his shoelaces.

Laura (casually) My day was good.

Georg Good, I want you to be happy.

What is this thing behind my back? It’s slimy and hard.

Finds a chalice behind his back.

Right!

It’s the chalice I used during yesterday’s Mass. I was coming back to Jerusalem.

Oh, you should have seen it!

(with admiration) It was GRAND! Pious crowds cheered! People exalted me! Jubilations commenced!

It’s amazing what awe-inspiring things can transpire in my box.

I also had this soggy piece of tofu. Where is it? I had some coconut milk and a piece of tofu, blood and body!

(Anxiously) Where is it?

Without it I shall not resist, Without it - I can’t resurrect.

(calmly) I’m stuck in my box, I have to admit.

People will not show up for the eucharist.

Laura How was your day?

Georg You know how it was. I’m baring the box. Don’t ask me that.

Laura (apathetically) Fine.

Silence

Georg (restlessly) Well, if you really want to know..

Logistics with this box is excruciating.

By the time I’m at work I’m already weak, disabled, wrecked.

(sighs) I become a misanthrope at work. I despise those philistines around me. Their paltry existence gets on my nerves. However, I act as Moliere’s Alceste did - I try to be courteous, affable.

(thinks) You know, Laura, at work there is this lady - her name is Celimene. She keeps bossing me around.

But I don’t mind it. I mean, such behaviour is only fitting.

I love Celimene, she’s a lady of good grit.

I hate the others, they’re too courteous - they’re cogs in the system.

(disgusted) They’re slaves.

Scum.

Vermin.

Celimene is a lady that tells me how it is.

Oh, by the way!

I love you Laura.

Laura I love you too.

Georg As far as my love is concerned - it’s no charade.

True, I’m with the box, but I can nonetheless appreciate love. I learned this from Diotima of Mantinea.

(Hyperbollicaly) In the mean of the wise and the ignorant I attain love. In the mean of the box and the open-space I solidify love. In the mean of depression and elation I redefine love again..

Laura (interrupts Georg) Perhaps it’s a case of bipolar disorder?

Laura I don’t understand. Sounds like a bunch of platitudes.

Georg Of course it does. I’m baring the box.

Guilty as charged!

Strike me - if you will - with electro convulsive treatment.

It’s a damn box! Only soundbites can reach you!

It’s a verbal hypomania - I will use ‘pressure of speech’ and ‘flight of ideas’, I will be punning and I will make humorous associations between concepts.

But I can’t prove my love to you, can I?

I can’t make love to you..

I can only talk love to you..

Laura I guess you can’t. Georg I can’t what?

Laura You can’t love me.

Georg (shouts) No! You wicked Celimene!

(calmly) My apologies, I didn’t mean to be scathing.

Listen, Plato said philosophy is love. And that’s absolutely crucial!

Like Diogenes, I sit here baring the box.

All I have is my sun. Well, in this case I only have my chalice. Can’t find the tofu..

(mutters to himself) there should be some tofu left on the altar..

What was I on about? (thinks)

Right.. Love!

(enthusiastically) Well, Rimbaud said we need to reinvent love.

That’s what I do here in this box.

And you should appreciate, nay - you should be thankful, Laura!

Just, consider this for a second:

there’s disjuncture here, you roam around the world, I sit baring the box.

Our situation involves two people.

Two.

Two perspectives that are very different.

I can’t inflict upon you what Paris inflicted upon Helen - I can’t abduct you, I can’t put you into my box.

We would lose something, wouldn’t we? I wouldn’t dare to undertake such an escapade. Two perspectives would be lost. We would encounter each other - I would be a man with no box to bear.

A man with no box to bear is no man at all.. Consequently, we are in luck. We are two people, and we construct the perception.

It’s not a perception of one person, but a perception of Two.

You see, through us - both of us - imagination takes power!

(solemnly) L'imagination prend le pouvoir!

Laura What’s wrong with encountering each other?

Georg Why do we have to get bogged down in these quaint, romantic cliches? It’s much better this way - this situation makes us equal.

This situation is egalitarian, we participate mutually through each other’s perspective.

If you had been a woman with a box, that wouldn’t have made sense - we couldn’t encounter each other at all. We would be blind, deaf, oblivious..

Now, It’s a perfect match, isn’t it?

I sit here, you wander around over there..

We don’t have to worry about the encounter!

No, love has nothing to do with an encounter.

We are better protected this way - if we were to see each other we would not live up to each other’s expectations.

Imagine us confronting the corporeality of each other?

That would be obscene, grotesque..

(emphatically) Horrendous!

Now, luckily, we know exactly where we stand - I have a box and you don’t.

Simple as that.

Remember Wagner’s Tristan and Isolde? Well, Laura, you see what happens when two people deprive themselves of boxes?!

Sad!

Tragic - very bitter indeed!

One ought not to tear the confines between Beatrice and Dante! By the same token, I shouldn’t be deprived of my box.

(silently) Apparatchiks will take me to prison, soon.

Very soon.

I shall blame R. D. Laing… (pauses)

Indeed, come to think of it - I’m much like the florentine bard.

You will take me to heaven and I will lurk there in a box - I will sing the dithyramb.

You know, if this box is worth a damn, it is because this box forces Dionysius to jubilate.

All my quips aside, really! And I’m not talking about myself. No. With or without me - this box is special.

That’s where the events transpired - I came back to Jerusalem. If it wasn’t a box it would be the holy grail. With some tofu inside.

(mutters quietly, looks around the room) Can’t find it. There was the liturgy and then the rite, a little tefillah.. Where could it be? Perhaps deacon took it.

No, I’m certain he was on secondment to Damascus.

I hope he is able-bodied.

I worry about him, he’s a feeble man - prone to epilepsy.

(Saddened) Ennui, ennui again..

Lack of tofu.

Dreadful privation.

And to top it all of - they might take me. They really can! I communicate authentic, vivid experiences, verisimilitudes.

(thinks)

They’re supposed to contribute to my schizophrenia, they mustn’t affirm my identity, let alone romanticize my trauma. Again, I blame Szasz.

(growls, fidgets)

Going back to the subject of sex-antagonism.. Was that what we talked about? Or was it love?

Doesn't matter - the crux of the matter is that it’s not over.

Laura What’s not over?

Georg Well, as Rebecca West said, it’s not over.

Laura What is?

Georg Sex-antagonism. But don’t be dazed just yet! I love you nonetheless.

Laura Love you too.

Georg That’s how we overcome said antagonism - I sit here, baring the box.

Castrated and - I know, it might be of surprise to you - a little anxious.

Really.

Somebody might damage the most important of my jewels and frankly - I’m experiencing a little bit of restlessness.

I’m afraid one day I will not be able to tend my box anymore.

Somebody might show up and say that the existence of boxes does not entail the identity of a boxed man.

And then they will take it away, I swear.

Once, they actually did try to take it away. (sighs)

I was in between of ages three and five. I played with my favorite tin soldier by the name of Werther. Once, Werther lost the battle of Leipzig. It was just a matter of bad luck.

A trifle, a non-event!

However, the parent of the same sex nonetheless approached me, disciplined me for not appreciating the gravity of the situation and threatened to damage my box.

Then I got expelled to the Elba orphanage. From that point on, I developed an unconscious fear of damage that could be inflicted upon my box.

God forbid!

It could be taken away! (calmly) I swear.

Don’t forget that, my dear Celime..Laura.

Laura I bought myself new earrings today.

Georg They look great.

Laura You’re no witness to my purchases.

Georg Are you saying I can’t appreciate your accessories because I’m in this box? Nonsense.

Listen, Laura, earrings are great - Shakespeare wore it.

I wouldn’t do that though - I have no penchant for body modification.

For me, committing to a body by altering it means sitting in a box and pretending that I’m galloping in the meadow while the rest of the laymen yearn for my carnal, mutated, fleshy organic mass.

That would entail servitude - scopophiliac schmoozing between master and the slave.

I have no appetite for titillation of master’s gaze.

I’m closed.

I’m baring the box, and hence I’m liberated. Shackled.

No one can observe, monitor or eyeball me.

There’s no tacticity, voyeurism - mere sound-bites coming out of the black abyss..

(thinks)

Earrings!

How would that look?

Laura Are you asking whether they look good on me?

Georg No, you sweet scoundrel. I know it looks marvelous. I’m asking in what way do they look so dazzling?

Out of mere curiosity I voice the latter interest.

If I’m not galloping in the meadow - surely you are.

Unrestricted soul can readily enlighten the tethered one, oh mistress - set me free.

I therefore want to know: where do those earrings appear in the spur of the moment?

For example, do they hang or do they clasp?

Are they gold or silver?

Are your ears at ease when you wear them?

Are you conscious of wearing the earrings while you do?

If yes. Do you wear the earrings because you endure the stimuli?

If yes. Can one bear an accessory that would be strictly extraneous without the overpoweringly visceral reminder that one is a coquette that accessorizes?

If you’re the lady that accessorizes, do you accessorize for me, for my dreams?

For my affliction and jubilation when I’m situated in a dark, humid box?

If that is the case, can you be my wish-fulfillment then?

Can my dreams relieve me of the pain that I feel when I’m no witness to your earrings?

Will the dream-work soothe my dementia?

Will I displace my grudges by positioning your earrings within the illusionary mise en scene?

Will I condense my fright, anguish, lust, claustrophobia onto the earring?

Surely, that might happen, but first I need to fathom the following:

(slowly) Do they clasp or hang?

Gold or silver?

Are they small or large?

What style are they?

Are they vintage, contemporary?

Can one detect symbolism in them?

Laura is silent.

One has to imagine a mirror,

I see you, Laura, in that mirror,

wearing earrings, tenderly awry,

flesh-and-blood of the picture effortlessly curbed,

Phenomena of your attributes soars through the warped insignia,

Your earrings glide within unruly dream-work,

They fuse, proliferate, like shreds of paper in windswept dusk,

Madonna, in a room of her own - gripping 500 pounds,

Proud and resolute in her monumental deeds,

Like George Eliot, though without phallocentric boxes,

Illustrious in her uncluttered meadow,

Like Shakespeare’s sister, yet without a tainted body,

Eschewing hindrances - trumping obstacles,

Proving suffragists passe,

Creating new instruments,

Inventing, molding, shaping future,

Serving avocado toast for breakfast!

With earrings, tremendously compelling,

Synecdoches of ecriture féminine,

Laura becomes, she becomes a woman,

Accepts masculine values and harnesses history,

Doesn’t cling to the privileges of the Box,

Becomes a full-scale human being,

At the great moment of awe - it knocks me down,

When I gaze at you, out there, autonomous and apathetic,

No interest in me - I recall Rita Mae Brown,

Then I know - you will not make love to me.

You were never meant to encounter me, touch or caress me, Even if you wished for it - we know it’s erroneous!

I’m the monster, phantom, leppard of the Box. Utterly beneath you!

You wield the history - unboxed. Laura, paris veut une masse! Relinquish fleshy intimacy and wear your earrings proud!

(pause)

You wield the history, unboxed..

I know this, because I’m in the box,

The box, that deems me Other,

Fixed, like Odysseus’ duty

Stagnant, threatened by the inevitable - prison,

Natural lump at the center of the burgeoning space ,

Box, that renders me mystical, exotic and veiled,

Confused male mystique,

A non-human, that will be brought to justice,

Now, (laughs) I’m denied justice due to social deviance - (screams) THE BOX!

They will separate psychiatry from the state,

Then they will castigate involuntary treatment,

They will give me legal rights,

And I won’t find my tofu.. My flock won’t assemble! No doubt about it!

Don’t abolish insanity defense,

Insane, they require Boxes!

Like junkies need dope, comedians need tyrants,

Mad need their cells!

Hence I demand, I demand coercive box-policy!

While you, Laura, go! Wield the history! Godspeed!

Laura Georg, we should wield our relationship first - tell me, where we going to live from September on?

Georg (emphatically) Laura, isn’t clear that I’m stuck here?

(mutters) unless of course, they will take me..

Laura Oh, I forgot to tell you, I met this person.

I told them about your box.

Silence

Georg What do you mean?

Laura I told them about the box.

I told them about the tofu, chalice, coconut milk, Jerusalem - the whole lot! The person knows that you’re afraid of someone taking your box.

Georg That’s private. I mean, such information is very delicate. You know that, right? Laura?

Laura This person had some good suggestions though, they can help me to help you!

Georg There is nothing you can help me with. Just settle down and be free!

(melancholically) settle down, kind Laura, settle down...

Forget Hans Castorp’s x-ray - disavow your flesh!

Idle, Laura, Idle!

With no box to bear - your agency is immortal!

With no box to bear - you can stay there . . here - at liberty!

With no box to bear - dare to use your own reason!

Idle! Disseminate the erudition!

With no box to bear - you are the Gaia without Chaos,

Without male assistance - open up the skies! Where boxes, like gods and druids, are bereft of life!

Settle down, Laura! Observe me!

. . . . . Look at me! . . . . a captive of Tartarus.

Me? ‘I am body and soul!’ - I assert this due to the box I bear,

Like Zarathustra, I perform the box - I perform my body,

My spirit is the accomplice to the box,

A trifle without it!

Bid farewell to the box - become dumb, become imprisoned!

Bid farewell to the box - abdicate fidelity to ethics. To you, Laura!

Bid farewell to the box - be a slave to the temporality of instance!

No loyalty, no allegiance, no devotedness - no reciprocity!

Unaware of eternal recurrence - I would endure the metonymy without sacrifices of the Jester!

Laura You wish that everybody had boxes?

Georg For some of them - it’s not a matter of choice.

Some of my parishioners are members of the political society, they wage bloodless war against the naysayers - the boxed men and women, members of the civil stratus.

They would rather see proletariat imprisoned within the gig economy.

Wherein you constantly reinvent yourself - construct a plethora of masks and spectacles.

To quote Kierkegaard: ‘Do you know that there comes a midnight hour when every one has to throw off his mask?’

Do you know, Laura?

I can love you, because I can reveal myself. To state the obvious - I’m the Box.

No spectacles here, no ploys or charades.

I say mea culpa, but that is the truth of the matter..

Can one say this even more crudely? I’m the hamartia! The serpent! Persona non grata! Seed of the serpent!

(sighs)

Elephant in the room..

Laura I’m actually really intrigued - I want to make you squirm! Oh, dapper, you!

Georg! The forbidden fruit!

You will shriek and howl.. (thinks)

(casually) But that’s just inevitable..

I have to test your capacity to reveal yourself - your buttox,

your penis,

your skin,

your saliva.

Until it fidgets, drips or is rendered stiff - I will not capitulate.

Georg (anxiously) What do you mean? You’re mad! I’m barred from you, Laura. You can’t change me, I’m already a pariah - a Boxed man.

Through my bowels currents of revolution flow.

Laura Even a boxed man is not impervious to stagnation.

Georg Either kill me or take me as I am, because I’ll be damned if I ever change.

Laura I will call you Juliette. You hear me, Georg? I will call you Juliette!

You’re in the box, does your name even matter?

Don’t be afraid - I will merely set your body free.

Now, Juliette, allow me to see you!

Georg slowly starts undressing, he is confused and petrified. Georg’s hands are shaking.

Georg Stop this interrogation, I demand you, Laura!

This is an infringement of my privacy!

Your words, they penetrate, they mutilate my Box.

I thought we had an understanding - we partake in the relationship between two equals.

We cooperate in the dialog between the free and the fettered.

You roam out there - I sit in the Box.

Simple as that.

We embrace the experience of the world from the perspective of difference.

Listen, Laura, life is being made - no longer from the perspective of one, but from the perspective of two!

Georg puts on a woman’s dress.

Laura begins kicking, punching the walls of her box.

Georg Stop it!

You can’t see me!

I won’t allow it.

You sweet virago!

You can’t take away my box!

You little scoundrel!

Laura (screams) I’ll show you the world. You said you were orphaned, Juliette?

(brazenly) Would you like to meet Noirceuil and Saint-Fond?

You could be their mistress, Georg!

Anatomically boxed in a male body,

You could easily be feminized!

Aren’t you goal oriented, Juliette?

‘L’impossible Monsieur Juliette’!

Georg Stop it! Don’t damage my box! You damn Celimene!

Laura You committed a crime, Juliette! A serious one at that! Remember the robbery? When you wore men’s clothing and you robbed me of my box?

Georg You’re delusional. (starts pacing nervously around the stage, makes grimaces, grotesque hand gestures)

Music . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Laura keeps on trying to escape - to break through. Some scratching, moaning, gasping can be heard.

Laura finally finds a way to escape the box. Immediately leaves the stage. Doesn’t look at Georg.

Slowly raises the Tofu above his head.

Georg The body of Juliette! (screams out triumphantly)

Raises the Chalice up.

Georg The blood of Juliette!

N.B. Curtain drops.

The End

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