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fitrahgolden · 1 year

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Should You Need Me: 1 - Hand in hand with someone else

"No entourage?"

"I'm sorry?"

Kate had been enjoying the silence, trying to get her mind to quiet down along with it, when Anthony spoke. He was using scrap fabric to drape the basic shape of her custom dress onto her body, his hands sliding expertly across her skin as he worked. His touch felt completely innocuous. Respectful, professional. Unfortunately, that didn't stop Kate from getting lost in it every so often, for the briefest of moments. Anthony's breath tickled her ear from behind her when he spoke again.

"It's just that most clients bring at least one person with them, usually more. You know, parents, your partner, the wedding party. Fifty of your closest friends, perhaps?"

"Oh." Had this really not occurred to her? "I, um, I didn't think to tell anyone I was doing this today, actually."

"Really?" If Anthony had made any attempt to hide his surprise, it was wholly unsuccessful. "I mean… It's unusual, but it's nice, if I'm being honest. To work one on one like this, no distractions."

Kate rolled her eyes. Sure. He isn't distracting at all. She jumped a little as he moved down her body, running a piece of fabric around her waist.

"You alright? I didn't mean to startle you."

"No, it's fine, I'm…fine," she said with a shake of her head. Yup. It's all just fine, fine, fine. Shouldn't it be great, though? Shouldn't it be wonderful? Shouldn't it be a dream?

She looked at the ring on her left hand and twirled it around a bit with her thumb. She must not have been particularly subtle because Anthony commented.

"It's a beautiful piece. And, no, before you ask, I don't say that to everyone. It's very unique."

Kate hummed in agreement, looking down at her hand again.

"Thank you. It was his grandmother's."

Anthony tensed for a moment before resuming his work. It was almost imperceptible, but Kate caught it.

"What's his name?"

"Tom." Her mouth quirked up into a smile, and, bizarrely, Kate found she was happy Anthony couldn't see it. What the hell?

"Tom." Anthony mumbled it quietly, as if he was only speaking to himself. This was usually the part when she'd be asked how long they've been together, how did they meet, something like that. But Anthony just cleared his throat and put a guiding hand on her shoulder. "Can you turn around for me?"

Kate followed his instructions. She watched his brow furrow as he looked at her decolletage. He pushed up his glasses. Again, his gaze, his movements, everything he was doing felt completely appropriate. He was taking no liberties. Still, she was terrified he would feel how fast and hard her heart was beating as he worked on the neckline.

This probably happens to him all the time and it's probably annoying as hell, people treating these appointments as free range opportunities to ogle as he circled them, touching them all over. But, then again, who knows? Maybe this is a great way for him to pick up dates. It’s not as if all of his clients are engaged. And, like he said, most people bring a group with them. Anyway, I'm not ogling–

"Ms. Sharma?"

"Huh? Sorry."

Anthony laughed and god fucking dammit, he could bring the world to its knees with his dumb, stupid, perfect smile. Bastard. Damn you to hell.

"I said we're done for today. I'm gonna take this off you and put it on that dress form. It's gonna be kind of a slow process since I'm gonna try to keep as much of it intact as possible. Do you mind if I take some photos for reference first? Just a couple of full length shots."

"Yeah, of course." Yup. Just take a few photos of me before you slowly undress me, Mr. Bridgerton. Absolutely. Go ahead. Totally fine. She was wearing a camisole and leggings, but still. Fine, fine, fine.

—

"Are you happy with the mock up? Is this the direction you want to go?"

Anthony was standing behind Kate as she sat, looking at the photos and his sketches. He followed the movement of her hands as she purposefully studied every line, every curve. Don't stand too close. Don't be a fucking creep, which is probably exactly what she expects. Standing a respectable distance back did not stop her scent from reaching him. He had been surrounded by it for the entirety of their appointment. And, damnit, he didn't hate it. He fucking loved it.

"Yeah, looks good." Kate said hurriedly, almost thoughtlessly, as if she suddenly wanted to be anywhere but here.

"Oh, OK. No notes? Are you sure?"

Kate sat up too quickly for Anthony to react and she accidentally backed into him.

"Shit, sorry!" She turned and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You OK?"

Nope, which makes no fucking sense. "Yeah, don't worry about it. Let's get you settled up so you can be on your way." He said it curtly, maybe coldly. He wanted to make sure she knew he wasn't thinking of this as anything other than a business transaction. He bent over behind the front desk to grab her file. "Let's see…" He walked back over to where Kate was waiting. "It says here everything is being expensed to Tom Dorset?" Saying her fiance's name again tasted bitter. Anthony hoped his voice was even enough not to betray anything.

Kate cleared her throat. "Yeah, he's, uh… He's taking care of it.

Anthony's smile was tight as he wrote some things down. "Got it. Well, you're good to go. The twenty-sixth of next month still works for you?"

"Yeah." Kate looked like she had already checked out mentally, so Anthony rushed through the last bit he had to say. "I'll have the basic bodice and skirt put together. Just one layer to get a better idea of what the ultimate design will be and sizing, and then we'll go from there. We have months to make changes, so never feel like you can't speak up if you don't like something, OK?"

"OK. I'm sure whatever you come up with will be beautiful." She looked around at the gowns in the showroom. "You obviously know what you're doing."

Anthony eyed her warily. Considering his usual clientele, working with someone who didn’t have a laundry list of what they did and did not want for their gown or suit was extremely rare. "Thanks. See you next month." He extended his hand and Kate took it. Anthony's jaw clenched and he had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. That wasn't a spark, idiot. There is no such thing as a fucking spark.

Kate withdrew her hand quickly as if he had burned her, though her eyes couldn't seem to leave his. It was so strange. She had seemed like she was itching to get out of the shop, but now it was like she was frozen.

"Should you need me--I mean, anything. If you need anything, have any questions, before our next appointment, you have my card. You can call or text me." And please just leave before I do something incredibly fucking stupid.

Kate seemed to shake herself out of whatever stupor she was in. "OK. Thanks. Have a great afternoon."

And with that, she rushed out.

Once Kate disappeared down the street, Anthony took a deep breath and ran a hand over his face.

"Genevieve?" He called out, keeping his eyes on the window.

"Yeah?" she called back, annoyance lacing her voice. She must have been working in the studio.

"Is anyone else coming in today?"

"No, thank fucking goodness."

Thank fucking goodness, indeed.

—

There was no other way to describe it. Anthony needed to recover from his first appointment with Kate. As ridiculous as that sounded, it didn't make it any less true. What the actual fuck?

Plenty of his clients were attractive women. And, yes, sometimes, he enjoyed getting to be close to them, to touch them. But he was always very aware of how he conducted himself during his appointments. It was imperative. Not just for his business, but for his character. Anthony wasn't a creep. He was a professional. He never forgot where his eyes and hands were supposed to be. Even if his client was single and his type, or brought friends with them that were, Anthony never got dates from work. It just wasn't a good look. He knew a lot of people were wary of a male dressmaker, with good reason. But he'd worked for years to prove himself, to become one of the most sought after custom formalwear seamsters in London. He didn't want to muck it up by gaining a reputation for dating his clients. So what the fuck had Kate Sharma done to him?

Anthony didn't know the answer to that question, just that he needed to erase her from his mind, at least until he had to see her again. And the best way Anthony knew to do that was to go to a bar and find someone to go home with. As he locked up the boutique for the night, he called his brother.

"Benny. Please tell me you don't have plans with Sophie tonight. Brilliant. Fancy going to Mondrich?"

—

"Hey, Katie Kat."

"Hey, babe." Kate was tucked back against the cushions of the large, plush sofa in Tom's living room, staring at the wall across from her.

"What did you get up to today?" Tom asked from the foyer as he toed off his shoes and stripped out of his scrubs.

"Nothing," she said absentmindedly. "Oh, no, I, um, had my first dress appointment."

"Ooh, exciting." Tom sauntered over and gave Kate a quick kiss before turning towards the hall. "Let me jump in the shower and then you can tell me all about it."

Honestly, the last thing Kate wanted to do was talk about her trip to Bridgerton Formal. She hadn't processed it yet, and the fact that it was even something she felt like she had to "process" was… Well, it certainly was not a good thing, to say the least. Picking out a wedding gown was a nuisance, as far as Kate was concerned. She and Tom already had two separate wedding ceremonies to plan, so she wanted to keep both as simple as possible. But Tom was so excited when he surprised her by booking an appointment at a posh boutique that was only available because of an auspiciously timed cancellation. She didn't have the heart to tell him she would much rather just order something online and have it tailored if needed. Her mother and stepmum were providing everything she needed for the Tamil ceremony from their own weddings, which made Kate smile every time she thought about it.

Anyway, she went to the appointment, and now she was stuck seeing Anthony Bridgerton on a semi-regular basis for the next year. A whole fucking year. Bridgerton Formal was in such high demand, with only three dressmakers, Anthony included, so their turnaround was ridiculously slow. Another reason this whole wedding gown todo felt like way too much. At the very least, Kate was thankful there had only been room to book her so she didn't have to subject Edwina and their mums to all this nonsense.

"Hey." Tom settled down on the couch and pulled Kate into his arms. She leaned into him, felt him kiss the top of her head. This is good. This is safe.

"You alright?"

"Mmhmm."

"You sure? Was the appointment OK? Is Anthony Bridgerton a snob? I know it's quite a posh shop, but everyone online said he's very personable and down to earth and all that."

"He's wonderful," she said without even thinking about it. Fuck. "Um, well, I–It was fine. He's fine. It was good, I think. Everyone there is nice." She hadn't met the two seamstresses who worked for Anthony, but there was no reason to think they weren't nice, right?

"Good, I'm glad I didn't set you up to deal with a bunch of arseholes. So, tell me about it, hm?"

Kate squeezed her eyes shut before tilting her head up to kiss Tom's jaw.

"I can't very well tell you much of anything, can I? I wouldn't want to give anything away. It would ruin the big reveal on the day." She gave him a cheeky smile. In truth, Kate didn't give a fuck if Tom saw her dress before the wedding day, let alone if he knew anything about what it looked like. But it was a good excuse to end the conversation. And it worked.

"Ah, of course. You're right. Keep your secrets, then."

Tom would have no way of knowing, but that was apparently the exact wrong thing to say. The mention of secrets struck guilt straight into Kate's gut. And she didn't even know why.

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yourcoffindoor · 4 years

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Bulletproof Heart Pt. 3

Pairing: Gerard Way x Reader

AN: Without further ado, here’s part 3! Sorry if there’s any typos that I missed, I kind of speed edited this one. I have one more part planned for this series, so the end is coming up soon. Hope you enjoy!!

From city to city, crowd to crowd, the tour continued on, and you went on with the show, your unwelcome encounter with Alex only making you more tenacious, more determined to outperform every band there.

You put on an unaffected front, making it seem as if you couldn't care less that he was playing Warped tour as well. Gavin was the only band member who knew about your history, and he fluttered about you like a mother hen ready to offer comfort or homicide at the drop of a hat. He would regularly attempt to gauge your feelings, but it only served to make you withdraw deeper into yourself, denying that could ever be shaken by his presence.

But the truth was you were shaken. You were scared. Scared that you would one day see that face smirking at you from a crowd and freeze, unable to ignore a presence so heavy and halting like a storm cloud threatening a downpour.

And then there was Gerard. You hadn't seen him since your first show, but your thoughts turned toward him again and again. What must he have thought that day, when Alex forced his way between you? When you stormed off alone? If he had tried to come and speak to you since that day, you hadn't heard anything. Did he think that there was still something left between you and Alex?

It was that thought that caused the most pain every time it crossed your mind, and you hated yourself for it. At night when you were alone your thoughts went around and around in the same infuriating cycle, from not caring what anyone had to think about you, to anxiously wondering if Gerard had someone else he was sharing that crooked smile with. You never let the words cross your mind or leave your lips, but your heart beat constantly with the hopeful thought: Please don't think that I could have feelings for anyone else.

Meanwhile, the Parties never ended--in fact they seemed to grow in boisterousness, picking up attendees like a tornado gathering wind. Your band mates went every now and again to socialize, but They held no value for you. Primarily because the chance of running into Alex was far too high-- You knew he would never miss an opportunity to get shit faced, and he would probably be skulking around in hopes of seeing you there, ready to latch on and torment you further. But beyond that, the chance of running into Gerard was likely to be less than zero.

That didn't stop your band mates from encouraging you to loosen up, hoping to pop the contemplative bubble that you'd encased yourself in for weeks.

"I'm gonna head out. What are you up to tonight? You should take a break from everything." Gavin suggested before heading out one night, despite knowing full well you'd die before you'd agree.

"I'll find something to keep me busy."

"I'd tell you to come with, but I know a certain someone you're crushing on won't be there."

"Oh really?" You flipped through a book on the table in front of you, playing dumb and failing miserably at it. "I do not know to whom you are referring."

"Yeah poor guy. Frank told me that there's too much pressure to drink here, so he's always in the bus alone. Bored. Desperate for human contact."

You gave Gavin the side-eye. "Alright alright, we get it."

He laughed. "Their bus is five down on the left. Y'know, if you feel like it. Thank me later." He said, darting out the door before anything could be thrown at him.

You rolled your eyes and flipped through the book, trying to read and forget the information that was just dropped in your lap. You remembered when you and Gerard had last spoke, how shy he looked when he attempted to invite you over before being cut off by Alex's sudden arrival.

Maybe a quick stop wouldn't hurt, you thought to yourself. He was in the middle of asking me to anyway...

Before you knew it you were on your feet, flinging on a jacket and taking a step outside. It would be the nice thing to do after all, since he can't leave the bus...

It took a bit of searching, but you finally found a bus with My Chemical Romance painted on its side in large black letters. Your heart did its familiar flutter as you walked up to the door, raising your hand and giving a rapid succession of knocks.

You heard a slight shuffle from inside, and after a few moments Gerard answered, his face changing from one of confusion to a soft smile as he shook the hair from out of his eyes.

"I hope this isn't a bad time," you said sheepishly, "I was told I could find some good comics here."

He flicked his spent cigarette to the ground, blowing smoke from the corner of his mouth. "Is there ever a bad time for comics? Come on in."

You followed him inside, and he stopped suddenly. "Aw shit." he muttered.

"What is it?" you asked, concerned.

"I just realized we're fucking slobs."

He wasn't wrong, you observed with a laugh. The interior of the bus was divided into piles of organized chaos; clothes tossed into piles on the floor and empty chairs, makeup left open and scattered amongst soda cans by every available counter space. A few stray guitars sat soundless, happily resting until their next performance.

Gerard was obviously a bit embarrassed by the state of the place, as evidenced by the faint red blush that clouded over his nose and cheeks.

"Yeah, so its not exactly Buckingham Palace in here..." he joked, one hand anxiously running through his dark hair. His bashfulness only endeared him to you further.

"Well my bus actually IS Buckingham Palace, and it looks just about the same so don't feel too bad."

"Perfect. Anything to make you feel more at home." He mused, relocating some crumpled clothes from a small sofa nearby. "Have a seat, your majesty."

"I haven't seen you around in awhile." You noted as he hastily shoved things into cupboards.

"I've basically turned into a hermit when I'm not performing. Since I can't step outside without seeing a bottle, I don't really have much choice."

So Gavin was telling the truth. Hm.

"Well, the hermit lifestyle is probably underrated anyway."

He laughed softly. "Oh for sure. And I'll show you whats been keeping me busy this whole time."

Gerard shuffled to the back of the bus for a moment before returning with an armload of comic books, laying them proudly on the table in front of you. "These are some of my current favorites," he began after taking a seat beside you, close enough for you to admire the look of sheer happiness in his expression as he spoke. He was clearly in his element. "This one here has some of the best coloring I've ever seen."

You must have stared at him for a bit too long because he caught your affectionate glance and paused.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," you said, immediately breaking eye contact as heat flooded your cheeks. "Its just nice to hear you talk about them. You're so passionate about it."

He laughed. "Well its also nice to talk about them with someone who gets it."

You felt like you could fly right out of your skin. Everything about him made you feel a sense of belonging that you hadn't found with anyone else before.

"Hey when do I get to see that comic you said you were working on? I think you mentioned that the last time I saw you."

"Oh you remembered! Uh, one sec, I'll pull it out."

He wandered back into the unknown void that was his bunk, and came back with a folio filled to the brim with concepts, sample panels and character sketches.

"I'm pretty proud of this. Its a work in progress so uh...be gentle."

You knew Gerard was talented, but you were taken aback at the skill and creativity that had gone into this endeavor. Here he had created a world entirely his own and you were drawn in immediately.

"Gerard this is fucking fantastic! Seriously I need a full length comic right now."

"Right now? I'd rather talk to you."

You and Gerard talked as if you'd known each other forever. You found him to be witty and charming, but most importantly sincere; and the conversation flowed with ease.

"You know I'm a little surprised. I wouldn't have expected a guy like you to be alone in his bus on a big tour like this."

He laughed. "What do you mean?"

"I mean there's a lot of bands here that seem like they're only motivated by the attention they can get from girls. You're not like that."

"Its never been about that for me. I find those guys just as annoying as you do." He paused for a moment, hesitating as if he was unsure if he should continue. "Speaking of annoying...That guy, Alex--"

"Oh, yeah, sorry about him. I didn't even know he was gonna be on this tour since I haven't spoken to him in ages. I'm doing my best to avoid him."

"You seemed pretty upset when I saw you last. Just wanted to make sure he wasn't bothering you or anything."

You paused for a moment, replaying his words in your head to process them. Gerard not only noticed your reaction to Alex, he remembered and was concerned?

"So you guys aren't like...a thing anymore?"

"NO," you said a bit too eagerly. "I mean no, definitely not. I'd have to be crazy."

"Good," he replied softly, "I mean, I'm glad as long as you're happy."

You realized you had been making eye contact with his lips, the pair of you inching closer to each other with every syllable.

Your breath slowed, and you tucked a strand of stray hair behind your ear. "And...there's no one that you're involved with?"

"No," he confirmed without missing a beat, "but there is someone I have in mind."

If there was a speed limit for heartbeats, you would have been violating the law. Your next words came out almost as a whisper. "And who would that be?"

Hazel eyes flashing, Gerard cupped the side of your face with one hand, and you instinctively moved closer to meet his lips. The kiss felt like it was part dream, too good to be true as endorphins flooded your veins, a heat kindling in your stomach. You couldn't begin to tell if it lasted seconds or minutes, but still when your lips parted, it felt too soon.

"Oh." was all you could say, and the pair of you merely grinned, satisfied to be silent in the aftermath.

You caught a glance at your watch. 1:05 AM.

"I can't believe I have the willpower to do this," you began reluctantly, "but If I don't head back now I'll end up living here."

"I don't see the problem." he remarked, and you punched him in the arm.

"Thanks for a great night." you pecked him on the cheek, and before he had time to react, you jumped up and made your way towards the door.

"Come back anytime for more talk about comics!" he called after you with a laugh.

Your cheeks were buzzing and a warmth spread through your veins, giddy from your night with Gerard. You paused outside of your bus door, taking a deep breath to try and steady your heartbeat. You didn't want to rouse any suspicion from your band mates-not yet anyway. You just wanted to keep this moment to yourself for awhile.

After you cooled down, you quietly opened the door, hoping nobody would notice you sneaking in and that you could hop straight into your bunk. Instead you were met with Gavin and Liz sitting down on the sofa, looking very concerned.

"Hey," you said with hesitation, "Everything alright?"

They shared an uncomfortable look.

"Y/N, I'm not sure how to put this..." Liz began, fumbling with her fingers in an attempt to find the right words.

"What's going on?" you felt the blush from only moments ago drain away into cold dread.

"Its Alex," Gavin explained, "He and his band have been going around with a camera getting girls to flash them in exchange for backstage passes..."

You rolled your eyes. "So he's still trash. What does this have to do with me?"

"Well, the thing is, he's been telling people he has video of you. And him. Together. And that its gonna be included with the rest of the fucked up footage they're recording."

Your pulse started racing, erasing your giddy buzz from only moments before. You slumped into the nearest chair, trying to gather your thoughts.

"I never even knew I was being filmed..." you said softly. Nausea bubbled in your stomach as you were unwillingly dragged back into your intimate memories, a place you had successfully moved on from in recent years but whose impact you could never truly erase.

"Are you ok?" Liz asked, her voice low and gentle as though she was afraid you were about to shatter. Those words were all you needed to be set off.

"No. No I'm not fucking okay." You stood up suddenly from your chair, pacing. "Do you know how hard it was to leave that situation? Do you you know you much I struggled to make a life an a name for myself? How I had to rebuild myself after him? And now this?" You were shaking, your voice trembling with pent up emotion. "This was supposed to be an amazing, once in a lifetime experience. The beginning of everything for us. So why can't I just be left the fuck alone!"

Your band mates called after you as you stormed to your bunk, pulling the curtains tight behind you and burying your face in your pillow. For the first time in a long time, you let yourself break down, your unhindered sobs turning your pillow into an ocean.

#gerard way fanfic #gerard way x reader #gerard way imagine

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sparklyaxolotlstudent · 5 years

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The Ladybug Puppet Show

Chapitre 11.

Lila Gets Exposed

Lila felt weird.

Ever since returning from her “trip”, the class had believed all her tall tales so far, even briefly turning on that goody two shoes Marinette, but ever since they started their dumb little show, they had been paying her less and less attention. Sure, they still believed her, and included her in their reunions and projects, but whenever she tried to make herself the center of attention, to try to make their dumb little show include Ladybug’s BFF, aka herself, they would sidetrack her, like when she promised Original Muppets, and they had the gall to actually accept the offer and make her fulfill her promises. And after she spend all that time choosing good socks and the best googly eyes the store had, they had dared to refuse her masterpieces, all for the crappy puppets that Marinette was making.

To make matters worse, whenever she tried to get them to do something for her, they would say they were too busy with the show. Even Alya!

To quote Chloe, it was ridiculous, completely and utterly ridiculous!

But everything changed when they had their meeting for the second episode.

Unfortunately for Lila, people had less taste that she gave them credit for, and the first episode had been a success, despite its low brow humor, easy jokes, clichés and stereotypical and 2D characters. Chat Noir had even made a fart joke FFS!

After getting Ivan’s approval, it was decided that the second episode would be about Stoneheart, and have the team actually defeat him, since the first episode had been an origins story where they fought(and lost) Hawk Moth directly, which was honestly delightful. And it was kind of fun how much of a dumbass they were making the “heroes” out to be.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng had barely been paying attention to the meeting, lost on her own little world in her sketchpad, so Lila of course had to ask her what was she doing while everyone else was working. And that girl had smugly replied that she had been sketching some ideas for the puppet of Stoneheart. What a bitch. So of course everyone went to praise their little ‘Everyday Ladybug’. Gosh, Marinette was as bad as Ladybug sometimes.

But not everything was lost, after Marinette had allowed the others to praise her, she expressed some difficulty on making the puppet look scary and actually made of rocks, and was planning to go to the fabric store to see what they had, until Kim suggested gluing rocks to the puppet, which made everyone laugh.

Lila herself had said that they might was well use a rock with googly eyes (she still had some). Her plan, of course, was that Marinette would get furious and then she would play the pity card and turn the class against Marinette. Again.

She wasn’t planning that Ivan would actually like the idea of presenting Stoneheart as a silly rock with googly eyes. Mylene then said they could add some wax lips to the rock and kissed Ivan (yuck) and everyone loved the idea even more. Even Marinette! She didn’t seem to mind that now her sketches were for nothing! A simple comment meant that she had wasted her time trying to make a scary akuma puppet and she was smiling!

Lila was furious… or rather, she would have been, but the others were actually praising her idea. “Good thinking Lila!” she heard Rose say, with others echoing her. Unlike other times they were praising her, this time felt different… Lila couldn’t put her finger on why, or how, but she didn’t felt the usual rush she felt for being the center of attention, however, she felt something else. She wasn’t sure what it was.

She also promised to get the googly eyes she still had.

She actually got the horrible feeling that they were playing a prank on her, or that Marinette would reveal yet again that she actually made a stone puppet of Stoneheart and steal her thunder… but her googly eyes were actually well received. It felt weird to actually not break a promise and deliver what she had said she could do. It felt even weirder when Marinette genuinely thanked her. It was that weird feeling again.

Ivan even picked the rock she suggested would make a nice Stoneheart, and thanks to her experience with the socks puppets, she actually helped gluing the googly eyes to it.

She ended up with glue-y hands with colored paper, as did Ivan and Rose, (which was weird, because they weren’t using any paper) and she thought the others would make fun of her, but they didn’t! Kim was a dork(like always) and their comments actually made her laugh.

She contributed in other ways to the episode, always vigilant in case they were trying to prank her, but… the attack never came. Rose actually added some of Lila’s commentary to her adlibbing of Princess Moth. Marc had thanked her for some inspiration writing the episode. Including the fact that they made Stoneheart a Rock with googly eyes. It didn’t move or had any dialogues. It was just a rock, and still, the team had had difficulties defeating it.

Their favorite dialogue was Queen Bee using Venom on Stoneheart… which did absolutely nothing, and still the team being surprised it didn’t work.

Hawk Moth had been avoiding her for some time now, which did not help with her mood, but on the other hand… ever since that meeting she had been a lot less annoyed at her being ghosted.

After Alya uploaded the episode “Stoneheart”, Lila noticed something that made her feel even weirder. Ever since that meeting, she hadn’t told the others any tall tale, or had asked for any special treatment, and yet the others were still as friendly as ever, even more than before. Marinette even made macaroons to celebrate the first episode getting a million views, and actually made her pistachio, her favorite flavor.

Lila felt weird.

And she kinda liked it.

If I’m going to redeem Gabriel and Chloe over a freaking puppet show, I might as well redeem Lila while I’m at it. And what better than redeem her over some googly eyes? I’m always salting on her, so this felt like something out of my comfort zone to do, so I did it. Don’t get me wrong, I still hate how she is handled in canon, but only making fun of her, even in this AU would get boring (and kind of mean for the other characters to keep doing) real fast.

Is she still a horrible person? Yep! But she will change with the Power of Friendship, or die trying!

So the full title of this chapter was actually “Lila Gets Exposed... to Friendship”

#miraculous ladybug #ml au #ml fic #ml salt #Ladybug Puppet Show

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paulisweeabootrash · 4 years

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2020 mini-review pack

Di Gi Charat (1999)

Episodes watched: 7

Platform: VRV (Hidive)

Di Gi Charat (pronounced like “carrot”) is a series of fast-paced 4-ish-minute shorts nominally about Dejiko and Rabi-en-Rose, rivals trying to be Earth’s greatest idol. Who are, respectively, a catgirl and a bunnygirl. Oh, and also they’re aliens? That’s... uh... certainly a premise, I guess. The actual show consists of self-contained gag-filled episodes with no ongoing story, in almost a sitcom kind of way, throwing the characters into situations without context, but with a stable “baseline” situation (unlike, say, Pop Team Epic, where the characters serve more as stock personalities playing different roles in different sketches). Dejiko is a snarky schemer. Rabi-en-Rose is a snarky schemer whose main activity seems to be bothering Dejiko at work. Puchiko is a small and quiet child and behaves accordingly. And Gema is... something? I have no clue, honestly, and neither does the fan wiki. Other recurring characters fill stock roles such as “manager” and “otaku”. A lot of the humor centers around poking fun at fandom. It’s a show by, for, and about otaku from an era before our current internet culture, and since I’m a millennial and not from Japan, that makes it unusually hard to evaluate.

W/A/S: 8/2?/5?

Weeb: Chibis. Catgirls. Idols. Kappas. Kawaii verbal tics. Akihabara. Low-detail background characters who look like blobs or thumbs with faces. Kanji left on-screen but untranslated. Particular sorts of highly-exaggerated facial expressions we may have become familiar with through emoji, but which still haven’t made their way into American media generally. This is ludicrously Japanese.

Ass: This really isn't that kind of show. Although it is certainly designed for adults, as evidenced by the presence of phrases like “naughty doujinshi”.

Shit: The art is fun. It has style shifts from comic strip to watercolor painting to mainstream 90s anime, and looks better than some of its contemporaries that were, uh, “real” shows. The opening takes up about a quarter of the total runtime and gets annoying quickly (but that's because it’s clearly designed for being part of a broadcast block, not binge-watching). Still, unless I’m missing hidden cleverness on account of not having the background knowledge, there’s not much to it. It’s just okay.

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First Astronomical Velocity (band, active 2011-present)

Platform: Spotify, surprisingly

Okay, this one is a bit different, and I’m jettisoning the whole format for it. Remember how I said the music-centered episodes of SoniAni were actually pretty good, even though the modeling-centered episodes were so offputting I never finished the show? Well it turns out that First Astronomical Velocity, Sonico’s band, has released several IRL albums. Physical copies may be a little hard to come by, but official uploads of a lot of their music can be found on Youtube and Spotify. Do your musical interests include at least two of: string arrangements that would be at home in a particularly sappy movie soundtrack, 90s-00s alternative rock, synthesizer beep-boops, and that constricted cutesy Japanese women’s vocal style (you know the one I mean)? Then this is for you. They’re a pretty good... uh... alt-pop-rock band, I guess is what I’d call them.

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Interspecies Reviewers (2020)

Episodes watched: the entire 12-episode season

Platform: I plead the 5th. But it’s getting a video release soon, so it will finally be legitimately available in English!

I started this year with a plot-light fanservicey animal-people show, and now I’m ending the year with... a plot-light fanservicey animal-people show. But unlike Nekopara, this show had me cracking up, eagerly clicking “next episode”, and not complaining about the premise. I’m sure a lot of people do have a problem with this show’s premise -- which centers almost entirely on various forms of sex work -- and I understand and respect that they will want to skip this show.

But for the rest of you: Interspecies Reviewers is a wildly-NSFW comedy about a group of fantasy world adventurers who gain fame and fortune reviewing brothels of different species. I expected excessive nudity and fantasy tropes, but I didn’t expect to also get serious thoughts. Like showing, in the golem and Magic Metropolis episodes, some of the unsettling problems that are looming IRL as deepfakes and sex robots are in development -- note especially the contrast between consensually and non-consensually basing automata on real people in those episodes. Or the discussion in the last episode of how much riskier sex would be in a world without magic (i.e., ours). This is a much smarter and more interesting show than you’d expect, considering that it has so much sexual content that it got dropped by two of the networks airing it and even its US distributor.

W/A/S: 5/10/4

Weeb: Although heavily influenced by the Western fantasy media canon of European mythology and Tolkien and tabletop RPGs, familiarity with the tropes of fantasy anime will help you “get” this too, as will familiarity with the -sigh- character dynamics and censorship practices of hentai. Especially because it’s a comedy, there are probably also instances where I have completely missed topical references or wordplay that a Japanese person would get, but I can’t think of any specific instances right now of “there was clearly supposed to be a joke but I missed it”.

Ass: Look, this could not possibly have more sexual content without unambiguously becoming porn. Genitals are (almost) always carefully hidden by viewing angle or conveniently-placed glowing (something lampshaded in one episode as an actual feature of one of the species they review), but otherwise, expect lots of nudity and almost nonstop crude humor. Do not watch this with children. Do not watch this with your parents. Do not watch this with friends you don’t know well enough to know how they’ll react to something like this.

Shit: This show is better-made than it deserves to be. It’s pretty dumb at points, but it’s fun enough to make up for it. The art is consistent and pleasant, and the opening and ending themes are extremely fun, but it’s not a serious standout in any of those departments. Also, I swear the background music is stock music, but I don’t remember what other show(s) I’ve heard it in before.

Stray thought: Crim is a precious and relatable cinnamon roll and I love them.

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OreSuki OVA (2020)

Platform: Crunchyroll

So, I know I didn’t cover the whole season in my initial review, but I still want to mention the hour-ish-long finale of this show, which was released straight to streaming. Short version of the rest of the season: Joro starts to actually fall for Pansy, but a new challenger, Hose, appears. He is irritatingly attractive and effortless at maintaining the right persona for the situation, leading Joro to describe him as “the main character”. Hose is the sociopathic manipulator Joro wishes he could be, and Pansy, who has a bad past with him, clearly wants nothing more than for Joro to stand up to him. But, since this is OreSuki, it’s not going to be handled simply. No, instead, strap in for a grand finale of Joro and Hose competing in, and trying to manipulate through rules-lawyering, an absolutely ludicrous competition to win the right to date Pansy. And, on top of it, we also get to finally see how Sun-chan got to be the way he is and what happened at that pivotal baseball game that set off the whole plot. What has Joro learned from the experiences of the past season? You’ll see! And you’ll facepalm about it!

Really, you must watch this if you watched the regular season.

W/A/S: 6/5(!)/4ish

Weeb: Basically the same as I said before. Gags referencing other Japanese media, anime and otherwise, and it's better if you’re familiar with the high school romcoms and harem comedies Joro thinks in terms of.

Ass (and slight content note): -sigh- Why does the camera need to be there? Also, Joro, you just committed a little bit of sexual assault for the sake of this contest. Stop.

Shit: I want to rate this overall better than I did the regular season because I think it’s an excellent finale overall because, even though it ends in a very “let’s leave everything unresolved” way that’s common in media that rely on absurd relationships to propel the plot, it does so in a way that makes sense in character. I personally think it would’ve been stronger if it had, well, confirmed its title, and at least some of the other “challengers” had lost interest in Joro, but I guess they probably want a Season 2, since they have so much more source material to work from. There are... oh god 14 light novels?! That is too many.

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Your Name. (2016)

Platform: DVD

Two high schoolers -- small-town girl Mitsuha, from Itomori, and big-city boy Taki, from Tokyo -- find themselves in each other’s bodies for a day. They both think at first it must be a very vivid dream, but when it happens again, and they start finding clues like notes they don’t remember writing and comments by friends and relatives about their out-of-character behavior, they realize the body swap is real. This begins a relationship of mutual understanding that nobody else can really understand -- or would even believe (except Mitsuha’s grandmother, who is... familiar with this phenomenon) -- and the plot then pivots to a tense adventure where they use their connection, some crucial information Taki has, the skills of Mitsuha’s friends, and the intervention of Itomori’s patron deity, to save the town from an impending disaster.

And that’s all I’ll say about that, because I really do think this is something you should go into blind. My only remaining comments are that (1) the red string of fate is critically important imagery, and is particularly interesting to me here because, if I took a particular scene correctly, Mitsuha made her own red string of fate from sheer necessity, which is a very different twist on that trope, and (2) I am now curious about the history of the body-swapping phenomenon in-universe.

W/A/S: 4?/2/2

Weeb: As mentioned above, symbolism of the Red String of Fate shows up throughout the movie, as do the occasional distinctly Japanese quirk like a wildly out-of-place vending machine or a café with dogs, and but for the most part it’s a cross-cultural story of understanding and dealing with someone else’s life, and of forming a connection other people don’t -- can’t -- truly understand, and to some extent of divides between urban and rural and modern and traditional that I think could play out in any country with just the local symbolism tweaked. The significance and content of Shinto beliefs and practices depicted, particularly kuchikamizake, are made pretty explicit, so although foreign to the vast majority of the non-Japanese audience, I feel like this movie also has nearly no barrier to entry for people not familiar with the cultural context, so I don’t want to rate it very high on this scale.

Ass: Look. It involves teenagers switching bodies. What do you think they do? Especially Taki? But it’s played for laughs, not titillation.

Shit: This movie is beautiful and punched me in the feels and was very satisfying. The closest I have to a complaint about any aspect of it is that the musical breaks that I guess are supposed to mark acts of the movie almost make it feel like binge-watching a short series instead of watching a single self-contained movie.

#weeaboo trash #anime review #mini-reviews #happy new year #di gi charat #first astronomical velocity #super sonico #interspecies reviewers #oresuki #Are You Really the Only One Who Likes Me?#your name

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mastrechef · 5 years

Text

I finally finished one of my other writing projects, so I came back to this early. So here’s the next installment of my Kingdom Hearts fic that I still have yet to come up with a name for.

If you haven’t read the previous parts, here are links:

Part 1: https://mastrechef.tumblr.com/post/610880203769757696/this-idea-has-been-stewing-in-my-mind-for-a-while

Part 2: https://mastrechef.tumblr.com/post/611540563650609152/more-kingdom-hearts-stuff-just-because-i-feel-like

The scene was familiar, and yet at the same time not. She looked like no more than a doll, motionless and absent of any sign of life aside from the faint rise and fall of her chest. Looking on, Namine felt the usual stirring of remorse as a different image superimposed itself over Kairi. She had already spent far too much time standing by the wayside, watching while others slept away, unaware of the world moving on without them. To be in that situation again, even if—or perhaps, especially if—her involvement was minimal, left her feeling unsettled.

“How are things looking?” And there was Riku, checking in for updates like clockwork.

“Still nothing I’m afraid. Ienzo and the others were thinking it might be time to wake her up.” Riku nodded distractedly. Namine contemplated him for a moment. He had been running himself ragged lately, although he tried his best not to show it, his misplaced guilt over Sora’s disappearance driving him to extremes. Idly, she wondered when he’d last had a decent night’s sleep.

Speaking of sleep… “I heard you’ve started looking into your dreams for leads.”

“That’s right.” He huffed in discontent. “I feel like there’s something there, but I don’t really know what it is I’m looking for.”

Namine pursed her lips together, debating to herself. There had been something on her mind for a while now, something she hadn’t really known how to address. If anyone should know about it, it was Riku; yet, she still found herself hesitating. Her powers had caused nothing but pain, and if she could live the rest of her life without using them again she would be happy. More than anything, she wanted them to be gone. But in this case, her lingering connection to Sora might be their best lead. As much as she disliked it, she owed him this much.

“There’s something I need to show you,” she said eventually, flipping through the sketchbook she carried with her everywhere. She skipped past all the old drawings of Sora and of Roxas, past the newer sketches of Radiant Garden, finally coming to a halt on an image that stood out from the rest in its monochrome coloration. “The place in your dream...does it look like this?”

He took the offered sketchbook from her to examine the drawing in detail. “The buildings themselves look different, but something tells me they’re the same place. How did you know?”

“I suspected as much,” she said mostly to herself. “It was so strange, I wasn’t sure what to make of it at first. It seems my ability to influence Sora’s memories still works. I pulled this from some of his newest memories.”

“You mean you can tell what Sora’s been up to? What he’s doing right now?”

“Sort of. The memories are distorted, and they’ve only been getting worse.”

“Still, it’s another avenue we can pursue.” He took Namine’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you for sharing this with me.” Riku understood what it was that she was offering; he also understood just what it would cost her. Already she felt anxious. For Sora, she reminded herself.

...

He’s like a stray cat, Sora couldn’t help but think when Vanitas inevitably hunted him down again, this time aimlessly wandering the winding city streets. About as prickly as one too. He made a mental note never to mention that out loud. He had a feeling Vanitas would take issue with the comparison. Deciding to let the other start the conversation this time, Sora kept his silence. He didn’t have to wait long.

“Who is that guy you’re always fighting?”

“His name’s Yozora, although I don’t think that’s really him.” Sora didn’t bother to elaborate further. He had the barest inkling of what was really going on, though Yozora’s role in it was the one thing he was certain of.

Nevertheless, Vanitas obviously understood anyway. “He’s the reason you’re stuck here.” It wasn’t a question; rather it was a confident assertion.

“Yeah.” Sora took a moment to scrutinize the other boy. There were deep bags under his eyes and weariness hung over him like a cloak. While physically they looked to be about the same age, Vanitas looked to be much more weighed down, like every instant just existing was felt as a physical burden. An ache of a different kind bloomed in his chest. “Why don’t you stay with me for a while?” he offered on impulse. “My heart has always been a sanctuary for others. I was able to help Ventus become whole again; I could do the same for you.”

Vanitas shot him a flat stare. “You don’t get it.”

“I’m not dumb. I don’t know all the details, but I know that everything you’ve been through must have been painful.” He had enough vague impressions from Roxas and Xion to understand that much. And he himself knew intimately the pain of not being enough; not strong enough, not fast enough, not worthy enough. More gently, he said, “At least if you stay with me you won’t ever be alone. And if you want to sleep and ignore the world for a while, that’s fine too.”

The sound of Vanitas’ footsteps halted, and Sora stopped as well to look back at him.

“Why are you trying so hard to save me?” If he was trying for aggressive, all he achieved was sounding mildly annoyed. Above all else, he just sounded tired. It made Sora incredibly sad to see someone in such a state.

“Because you deserve a chance. All you’ve known is darkness, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have something else.” He put as much sincerity into both his words and his expression as he could. He wanted—no, needed Vanitas to believe him.

In the face of Sora’s earnest desire to help, Vanitas was unable to refuse. Sora could read it in his eyes. He beamed. Vanitas stubbornly avoided looking at him directly, seeming to already be regretting his decision, but all the same, he didn’t call up a dark corridor to get away.

“So how does this work?”

“I have no clue. I don’t really remember how it happened before. Maybe—if it’s anything like the power of waking, it’ll come to me when I need it.”

Without warning, Sora grabbed Vanitas by the wrist to pull him close, simultaneously placing a hand on his chest, digging blunt nails in slightly when he tried to flinch away. He closed his eyes in concentration. He had opened his heart to Ventus once, and later to Kairi, Roxas, and presumably Xion, even if he hadn’t been conscious of it at the time. Now, he just needed to replicate that. His heart would lead the way.

There was a slight shift in energy, and a tingle went down his spine. Sora could sense it now, the flickering pinprick of light coated in darkness that was Vanitas’ heart. He focused on it, drawing it out. Vanitas exhaled in a woosh, but Sora didn’t acknowledge it, focused as he was. Come to me, he willed. There was a sudden pulse and Sora nearly lost his balance as Vanitas disappeared in a shower of light. In his mind’s eye, he could see Vanitas descending gently onto his station of awakening.

“Oh,” he whispered breathlessly. The void that had opened up when Ventus woke was shrinking, the cracks in his heart filling in. The old, persistent ache was gone. In its place he felt...surprisingly warm, like a flame had ignited within his chest. It was a little strange, but not unwelcome. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who had forgotten what being whole was like.

You cozy in there? He was only a little startled to actually receive a reply.

Just peachy. Now shut the fuck up and let me sleep. But don’t think I won’t take over if you start doing stupid shit.

Got it.

Sora lifted his gaze to the stars overhead, renewed resolve flowing into him. He had a feeling that his next meeting with Yozora would go very differently.

Dodging immediately to the side had become so routine as to be pure muscle memory. He brought his keyblade up to block the swift alternating succession of laser beams and sword strikes. Feeling faster than he had in all their previous battles, Sora took the initiative to charge Yozora, landing a couple solid strikes to his midsection. Yozora backflipped away, and Sora held back, knowing he would be readying his next attack.

Phantom sword slashes flew through the air as Sora danced around them. Narrowly twisting away from another one, he threw a firaga his opponent’s way, distracting him enough to allow Sora to close the distance once more. A surge of exhilaration flooded his body. After what felt like an entire lifetime fighting heartless or nobodies or any resident big bad that was up to no good, battle was in his blood. As much as he’d like nothing better than to return to Destiny Islands with Riku and Kairi, he doubted he could settle into a peaceful life. A restless part of him would always seek out adventure or the adrenaline rush of a good fight.

When Yozora retreated from his assault again, Sora tensed his muscles in preparation. He rolled away before the glowing red pyramid could trap him. As soon as he got to his feet, he instantly spun around, bracing his keyblade against Yozora’s lightning quick onslaught. He evaded a second pyramid, then cast thundaga to interrupt the other’s rhythm.

The battle continued, becoming more of a competition of stamina. The fatigue that had plagued Sora before was non-existent. He felt so energized that he could go on like this for ages. Yozora showed no signs of slowing either.

An idea formed as he recalled the fight at the Keyblade Graveyard. Pouring all his magic into it, he summoned forth the ultimate keyblade transformation. Surrounded by a swarm of blades, he had but to direct them towards Yozora. He was quickly overwhelmed.

Yozora collapsed to his knees, panting in exertion. He lifted a hand as it began dispersing into blue light. “I guess...that my powers aren’t needed yet.”

“What do you mean?” Sora was confused. What powers? Was Yozora not the one who trapped him here?

Yozora’s expression turned strangely melancholy. “Nevermind.” He gave Sora one last tiny, barely there smile before everything burst into light.

Sora uncovered his eyes, blinking away the spots burned into his vision, to see the cloud filled sky and mirror-like watery landscape of the Final World. The last specks of light drifted off into the air like puffs of dandelions blown by the wind.

#kingdom hearts #post-kingdom hearts iii #ficlet #namine #riku #sora #vanitas #yozora #this is basically the end of the prologue of this story #now i need to get cracking on planning the actual story

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themadlostgirl · 5 years

Text

NDY AU (2)

*A lot of people wanted me to continue the AU I wrote a while ago so here is a short mini-fic full of fluff while I’m working on the new main story.*

Pairing: Reader x Peter Pan

Warnings: language

*Months Earlier*

I don’t think it was a secret that my life in Storybrooke was pretty miserable. Okay, maybe miserable was too strong a word. It was more boring than anything. Monotonous and routine and insufferably predictable. I think there was a phrase that summed it up perfectly: Familiarity breeds contempt.

Everyday was the same. Wake up, go to school, babysitting all afternoon, go home, do homework, go to bed. Each and every day. I didn’t even get a weekend break because that’s what everyone else did. They were off having fun while I watched their kids.

At some point I finally broke. My alarm clock went off and I decided that I was done. I stayed in bed and kept sleeping. When my mom came up to see why I wasn’t up I told her I was sick. Trusting as she was she decided I was telling the truth and left me to my own devices while dad and her went to work. I heard their cars pull out of the garage and then I got up.

It was stupid. I shouldn’t be skipping school. Not like there is a lot to do around this town in the first place but I needed one day off. One day away from my life of repetition. I threw on a inconspicuous hoodie and was out the door.

I meandered around town dodging the gaze of everyone I passed. I was so nervous about skipping school I thought that if someone saw me out and about they would drag me back and I’d get detention for sure. I decided to take a walk through the woods. I had always felt more at home in the wilderness. Something about the neverending trees and chatter of birds put me at ease.

After a good hour of hiking and getting further away from the trail I heard something out of place this deep in the woods. Music. Not loud blaring music coming from a stereo but something softer. It drifted across the air like a lullaby hushing the birds and stilling the trees.

I walked towards the source curious and found an unzipped backpack. Inside was a bunch of notebooks and an overflowing pencil case. Next to it was a phone with music coming out of its speaker. Fairy Dance? Interesting.

“Didn’t your mommy teach you not to snoop.” A voice from above made me jump. I dropped the phone back to the ground.

There was a boy in the tree above me. He dropped down with a glare. He was kinda cute in a bad boy, scruffy, wrong side of the tracks kinda way. It was his eyes that kept me staring though. They were the most beautiful shade of green.

He picked up the phone and stopped the song before stuffing it back in his pocket. “What are you doing out here.”

I snapped back to my senses and looked away, “I was just taking a walk. I heard and the music and--I’m sorry.” I backed away ready to leave. “I’ll be going now.”

“Wait a second. Wait a second.” The boy grabbed me and turned me back around, “You’re cute.”

“Thanks?” I removed his hand from my arm and kept on walking. Still he followed.

“Do I know you?”

“Don’t think so.”

“You’re right. I would remember a face like yours.” he smirked, “What’s your name?”

“Why do you wanna know?”

“I’m a curious guy. I swear I’ve seen you before.”

“Probably at school. Which, shouldn’t you be there right now?” I don’t think this guy could be that much older than me. What was he doing skipping school?

“Nah. Don’t go to school much.” he shrugged. “Actually, if it is a school day, why aren’t you there?”

“I--I--” Crap!

“Don’t sweat it, pet,” he grinned wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “Teenage rebellion. It’s a good thing.”

“I’m not rebelling. I just needed a day off.” I shrugged him off once more, “Also, don’t call me pet.”

“Well if you told me your name I wouldn’t need nicknames.” he didn’t try to touch me again but still followed closely.

“Y/N. Happy?”

“Yes. My name’s Peter by the way. Since you didn’t ask.”

“Wasn’t interested.”

“So cold.”

“Only towards creeps like you.” I huffed.

“Hey, hey,” he ran in front of me stopping me, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“Really? Do you just not have any sense of personal space.”

“Truthfully? Always been a bit of a problem with me. Guess because I never got that much love growing up that I crave the gentle touch from others.” he winked and I gagged.

“And you wonder why I think you’re a creep. Although with that comment now I’m thinking you’re more of a pervert.” I shoved past him.

“Okay, seriously, I am sorry. I’m just being a dick.”

“Obviously.”

“Y/N,” he cut me off again, “Can we start over?”

“Why do you care? Leave me alone.”

“If you wish it,” he gave an exaggerated bow and stepped aside to let me pass. “I am sorry though. Don’t think badly of me.”

Those damned green puppy dog eyes. He was actually sorry, wasn’t he? “I forgive you. I’m really on edge with skipping school. It’s not something I’ve done before.”

“Clearly.” he straightened up, “If the lady would be so kind as to let a humble delinquent such as myself teach you the ways of a successful ditch day I would be honored.”

“Wow, you are so damn extra.”

“I try.” he winked, “What do you say?”

“Why not? Not like I have anything else to do.” I shrugged. I don’t know why but I felt like I could trust him. Not only to not be an asshole but to take me on a small town adventure.

He offered up his arm and I took a deep breath before accepting it. We kept on with our walk while Peter talked to me about things to do and how to avoid getting caught.

“What are you doing out here, anyway?” I asked after a while.

“Nothing. Relaxing. Keep away from the house.” he shrugged.

“And the notebooks in your bag?” At that I got a glare. “Sorry, I saw them in your bag. You write?”

“Sketch.” he grumbled.

“Can I see?”

A clap of thunder stopped him before he could answer. “Shit. Come on.” he tugged me along faster now.

Gotta love this Maine weather. We ran through the forest as rain came pouring down on us. I was drenched and freezing but I couldn’t help but smile. I let out a crazy little laugh and Peter looked back at me with a similar grin.

Ahead of us was a run down trailer. We ran inside out of the downpour laughing like idiots. For being an abandoned crappy trailer it wasn’t that bad inside. It was mostly clean and free of any wildlife.

“How’d you know this was here?” I asked as I stripped out of my soaked hoodie.

“Found it a couple months ago. Cleaned it up as best I could so I had a place to hang out in cases just like this.” He shook out the rain from his hair. His eyes raked over me. I crossed my arms over my chest suddenly aware of how much my t-shirt was clinging to me and what it may be showing.

“Here,” he handed me a dry hoodie from in the small closet. “You look cold.”

“Thank you.” I pulled it on relishing in the warmth. It smelled like forest.

“Looks like the rain won’t let up for a while. Unless you wanna brave the storm we’re gonna be stuck here until it passes.” he collapsed back on the couch.

“Joy.” I sat down next to him. “Got a way to pass the time?”

“There’s a chess set in one of the cabinets but half of the pieces are missing.”

“So nothing.” I slumped further in my seat.

“I got a book in here.” he rummaged in his bag and pulled out a copy of Lord of the Flies. “Don’t know if it’s your thing but it's a classic.”

“Gotta say I’m more a Jane Austen kinda girl myself but this’ll do for now.” I took the book, “Thanks.”

“No problem.” We sat in silence for a long while. The only noise being the patter of rain against the side of the trailer and the sound of Peter’s pencil scritching and scratching in his notebook. It was strangely comfortable. There was no need to fill the silence between us. We didn’t need to.

At some point the rain had stopped but I was so invested in my reading I hadn’t noticed. It wasn’t until Peter tapped me that I came back to myself. “Rain stopped.”

“Oh. I guess it did.” I looked around for something to mark the page with since I refused to be a degenerate and dog-ear it. Peter seeing my struggled ripped a piece from his notebook and handed it to me.

“You can keep it if you wanna finish it.” he told me as we left the trailer. “I’ve read it like five times already.”

“You like a story about feral children murdering one another that much?” I cocked an eyebrow up at him.

“Well when you say it like that I sound like a weirdo.”

“You are a weirdo.” I joked.

We walked back to town. School should be letting out about now so I didn’t need to worry about that anymore. Peter pulled me along as we stopped inside the pharmacy for snacks. I noticed him trying to sneak out chocolate bars and smacked him. “I have some cash on me. No need to shoplift sweets.”

We went up to the register and the man scanning the items kept glaring at Peter suspiciously. I would too if I had the right to believe this little shit was stealing inventory. We left and I let Peter take the lead as we wandered around town and talked.

“Alright, I got one,” I said in between bites of my candy, “Would you rather be locked in a room that is constantly dark for a week or a room that is constantly bright for a week?”

“Dark, no question.” he answered.

“Seriously? But you can’t see anything!”

“My eyes would adjust. Besides, the dark doesn’t scare me. Constant bright light would be so annoying though, especially when you’re trying to sleep.”

“Point. Your turn.”

“I got a good one,” he turned to me with that dumb smirk, “Would you rather go back home and pretend to be sick or keep being a rebel and grab dinner at Granny’s with me tonight?”

“Oh…” I felt my face grow warm, “I think--”

“Y/N?” I froze. Dad.

“Hey,” I turned to him, “What’s up?”

“I thought you were sick. Why aren’t you home?”

“Just taking a walk. Getting some fresh air.”

“Uh huh,” he glanced at Peter, “And who is this?”

“Peter...my friend.” I mumbled.

“Sure.” Dad grabbed my arm and pulled me away from Peter’s side. “You’re coming home right now. And you,” he rounded on Peter, “Don’t think I don’t know who you are. I’ve seen Graham dragging your ass into the sheriff’s station on a weekly basis. Stay away from my daughter.”

“Dad!”

“I believe that’s up to Y/N, sir.” Peter smirked wider. I swear I thought steam was going to come pouring out of dad’s ears at any second.

“I will not let my daughter ruin herself with something like you. Now beat it.” Without another word dad dragged me away.

I craned my neck to look back at Peter. He gave me a wink and continued on with his walk.

(1) (3)

#peter pan ouat #ouat peter pan #ouat #neverland #peter pan imagine #peter pan x reader

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advocaado · 6 years

Text

Day 19: Dragons

Another late one! I’m so sorry about this. I just have very little time to write now with the holidays so close. Please bear with me.

@thirtydaysofzutara @zutaramonth

Find the whole collection on fanfiction.net User: Advocaat

It was an accident. It was a single, teeny-tiny, barely-noticeable mistake. It was the sort of trivial miscalculation that was so seemingly innocuous that the great spirit Barnaby could be forgiven for not catching it. After all, it was nothing that affected him nor anyone who resided on his plane of existence. It was the sort of minor error that happened daily to the best of spirits; the kind that was so utterly inconsequential that it normally wouldn’t even be worth the small amount of energy it took to fix were it discovered.

The problem is, you see, that screw-ups made by the divine have a nasty habit of manifesting in the human world as divine screw-ups. And when the Fire Lord suddenly and inexplicably popped out of existence and was replaced by a two-ton, fire-breathing dragon in the middle of giving a speech at the annual peace summit in Ba Sing Se, there was, quite honestly, no more fitting description.

This, of course, caused no small amount of panic. After all, the last time a dragon had been seen by anyone was at least thirty years ago, and to have one suddenly spewing fire and carrying on inside the Earth Palace was not the sort of thing any reasonable person would generally be equipped to handle. This, unfortunately, included the Avatar and his friends.

Now, as we all know, dragons are famously interested in only two things: treasure being one.

The other being princesses.

So it was that when the dragon-fied Fire Lord swept over the crowd on leathery wings, snatched up the daughter of Chief Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe, and promptly flew straight through King Kuei’s favorite decorative window, nobody could fault him for it. Katara was the closest thing present to a princess, after all. And the window was very shiny.

What follows is a series of snippets showing the events that transpired between Fire Lord Zuko absconding with Katara of the Southern Water Tribe and the Avatar journeying to the spirit world to fix this dragon-sized debacle.

oOo

“Really, Zuko? A cave? You could’ve picked anywhere to be your lair—the Fire Palace, an air temple, a tropical island, a laundromat—but instead you picked a stupid cave. You know I’m going to freeze in here. I’m not dressed for spelunking.”

Zuko snorted and tucked his nose into his wing. He was, apparently, entirely unconcerned by her complaints.

Katara was about to be very offended. She opened her mouth and prepared a finger for some very stern wagging, but she was abruptly knocked off her feet when Zuko’s tail snaked around her from behind and pulled her against his warm body. Katara’s lecture died on her tongue. “I guess that works,” she grumbled. Jabbing a finger into his side, she added, “But don’t think this suffices as a long-term solution. If you’re going to keep me here, you at least need to get me some bedding.”

Zuko made no motion to reply, He merely closed his eyes and began to breath evenly and slowly.

oOo

“Why’d you kidnap me, anyway?” Katara asked as she drew little doodles in the earth outside the cave with a stick. “I mean, not that I don’t enjoy hanging out with you, but I’d think your animal instincts would drive you to more familiar behavior, such as trying to capture the Avatar. You know, I bet Aang would even think that was cool.”

Zuko’s canine lips parted, showing off a row of long, wicked-looking teeth and he tossed his head. His bright gold eyes rose to the ceiling briefly before falling back down to look at her.

Katara stopped sketching and placed her hands on her hips. “Did you just roll your eyes at me?”

Zuko snuffled his great nose and managed to look noncommittal despite his severely limited facial mobility.

Katara’s eyes narrowed. “Just how much man and how much beast am I talking to right now? You seem to understand me, which means you’re intelligent. But are you actually aware of what’s going on right now? Do you know what happened to you?”

Zuko just stared down at her with large, catlike eyes.

Katara frowned back at him. “You’d better not be playing dumb. This is a huge mess, you realize. We can’t go on living in this cave forever. I mean, you’ve got a country to run and I’ve got… Well, I’ve got stuff. I guess.”

Zuko’s nostrils flared and he exhaled a puff of steam that engulfed Katara in a muggy cloud.

Katara crinkled up her face and swatted the cloud away. “Stop that! You’re going to make my hair frizzy.”

oOo

“Zuko!”

A poke.

“Zuko!”

A jab.

“Zuko! Wake up!”

This time, Katara smacked his scaly neck, hoping it would be enough to rouse the slumbering dragon. Her effort was rewarded when one of Zuko’s large eyes opened slowly and he gave her an annoyed look.

“Thank goodness you’re awake. I need to use the bathroom and you’re blocking the exit.”

Zuko looked like he wanted nothing more than to drop back into dreamland, but he hefted his heavy serpentine body off the floor and slithered out of the way so that she could reach the cave mouth.

Katara thanked him with a pat. “Jeez, why couldn’t you have turned into something more manageable? Like a cat? Or a hamsterkeet?”

Zuko snuffed and lowered his head back to the floor, shutting his eyes again.

Katara left her friend behind to step out into the chilly woods. She shivered and rubbed her upper arms, feeling gooseflesh under her palms. It was dark still, but she could tell by the pale halo on the surrounding mountains that dawn was approaching.

She took care of her business quickly and hurried back to the cave, determined to get some more shut-eye before the sun rose and turned Zuko on. Night was the only time she ever got any peace. As long as the sun was out, Zuko was an unstoppable force of dragon energy. He hunted, he terrorized the local wildlife by dive-bombing them from the sky, he tromped around scraping off tree bark with his enormous claws, and La help her whenever she chose to go to the river for a bath. He loved water and he would dive in and out of the river, tossing water this way and that while she attempted to wash her hair. He was so unlike his normal, human self that sometime Katara wondered if the beast really was Zuko or if Zuko had been sent somewhere else and this dragon had been deposited in his place.

But Katara knew that wasn’t the case. Though his facial scar was missing, likely due to the fact that dragon skin was impervious to fire, his lightning scar was still very much present, as she’d seen when he’d rolled onto his back to scratch his shoulders.

So, then, where was her Zuko? Was his personality still there, but buried under layers of dragon instincts? Did he even know who she was, or had he kidnapped her completely by coincidence?

She wished he could talk. That would make all this much easier. She also wished she had some window to the outside world. She could only imagine the chaos the Fire Nation was facing with their ruler up and vanished. By now, the story of what had happened at the summit in Ba Sing Se would’ve spread and everyone no doubt knew about the Fire Lord turning into a dragon and absconding with her. Katara was sure the rumor mill was having a field day.

There had already been plenty of rumors about her and Zuko to begin with. This would do absolutely nothing to help that.

As she reached the cave, she decided that when Zuko woke up she was going to have a chat with him about going back to check on the world situation. At the very least, they needed to reassure their friends that they were okay.

oOo

It turned out they didn’t need to do any reassuring after all because the next day, Aang, Sokka, Toph, and Suki showed up at their cave.

Katara had been attempting to convince Zuko to throw out a sapling he’d ripped out of the ground and was gnawing on as if it were some kind of chew toy when they arrived. He was shaking leaves all over the cave and she was not at all relishing the idea of having to clean up after him. It was as she was in the midst of wagging her finger at him and giving him a talking to in her most stern tone that Appa descended from the sky and landed a few feet away with a groan of greeting.

“Katara! Zuko! There you are!”

Katara turned around in surprise. “Aang?” she greeted the young, bald monk, shocked to see him there. Her gaze moved past him to the others who were in the process of jumping down from Appa’s saddle. “How did you guys find us all the way out here?”

“We followed reports of dragon sightings to find the general area and then we used Appa to search from the sky until we spotted you,” Sokka answered, coming up beside Aang. He smiled widely then and enveloped Katara is a hug. “I’m glad to see you’re alright. We were really worried.”

Behind her, Zuko snuffed and lashed his tail, apparently offended by the insinuation that she’d been in any danger.

The movement caused the group’s attention to turn to him and Katara watched her friends study Zuko with interest and wariness. The weight of their scrutiny caused him to extend his neck to its full height and shake his fluffy head at them like a peeved rabbiroo.

“So, that’s Zuko?” Suki asked disbelievingly.

“Gained a few pounds, that’s for sure,” Toph remarked from the side of the group.

Aang frowned and approached Zuko with his hand out. Zuko watched him warily but didn’t do anything to stop his advance. When Aang placed his hand on Zuko’s shoulder blade, Zuko made a short, thoughtful rumbling noise deep in his throat. He seemed to decide Aang wasn’t a threat because he lowered his head, relaxing out of his defensive stance.

“Do you know how this happened, Aang?” Katara asked, joining the young monk at Zuko’s side. “If we don’t figure out how to return him to normal, the Fire Nation’s going to have a real crisis on their hands.”

Aang shook his head. “I don’t know. I’ve never heard of a person changing into an animal.” He squinted up at Zuko and crossed his arms.

Sokka stepped forward then, scratching his chin as he appeared to inspect Zuko up, down, left and right. “Doesn’t this whole thing sort of reek of spirit world shenanigans?” he postulated. “I mean, the only times I’ve ever seen one thing turn into another thing were when the spirits were involved. You know, like Yue turning into the moon and you turning into Koizilla.”

Aang nodded. “You have a point. Humans can’t just transform all on their own.”

“Well, why don’t you go ask you friends in the spirit world?” Toph suggested, raising her hands palm-up. “Even if they don’t know what happened, they might know of a way to fix it.”

Again, Aang nodded. “Yeah. That sounds like the best course of action. I’ll go right away.”

“Well, then,” Sokka said, turning back around to look at the group. “I guess we’d better get comfortable. This could take a while.”

oOo

While Aang meditated outside the cave, the rest of the group sat in a circle and thought about what they were going to do if Aang couldn’t find the answer he was looking for.

“I mean, I guess he could still lead the Fire Nation,” Sokka posited. “There aren’t any laws saying a dragon can’t be Fire Lord, right?”

“And just how exactly is he supposed to govern when all he wants to do is scrape up trees and eat squirrelmunks?” Toph argued. “Not to mention it’s difficult to give orders when you can’t talk.”

“Well, what do you want to do? Hand the throne over to Azula?”

The whole group cringed visibly. That was definitely not an option.

Zuko, who had been lying quietly with his head on the ground beside Katara, suddenly came alive and opened his mouth, displaying his rows of daggerlike teeth. He coiled his neck back and his throat moved, producing an odd growling rumble. They watched his lips and tongue move in a way that looked very unnatural on his canine face and he cycled through a collection of sounds, none of which anyone in the group could extrapolate any meaning from.

“Is he…trying to speak?” Sokka wondered aloud, his eyebrows shooting up nearly to his hairline.

In response to his question, Zuko gnashed his teeth in frustration and wagged his head up and down violently.

That was a sign all of them could understand.

Sokka’s mouth dropped open in shock and he scrambled to his feet to lunge comically over to Zuko. He grabbed Zuko’s great snout and leaned forward to look him in the eyes. “Whoa! Zuko! Are you in there, buddy?”

Zuko made an annoyed barking sound and tossed his head to shake Sokka off. His tail rose off the ground and lashed the side of the cave, leaving a mark on the stone.

Katara rose to her feet as well and placed a hand on his neck, causing him to still. He craned his neck around to look at her and she could read frustration in his large, gold eyes. He made a noise that sounded almost like a whine and one of his feet scraped at the ground, creating five parallel lines in the dirt. “Zuko?” she questioned tentatively. “Is that really you in there?”

Zuko tossed his head again and a jittering growl rose out of his throat. Katara’s brows furrowed in confusion and she looked beseechingly back at her friends. “What does that mean? Was that a yes or a no?”

Suki shrugged helplessly and Toph raised a hand to her chin. “I don’t know if it was either. It sounds like he’s fighting his dragon instincts. It’s like he wants to communicate with us but he can’t.”

Katara turned back around to look at Zuko. Was that true? Was his personality in conflict with the dragon’s? That sounded awful.

Zuko made another whining sound and dropped his head back onto the floor.

“Well, it seems like he wasn’t too pleased by Sokka’s suggestion to let Azula take over,” she submitted. “I guess if he feels strongly enough about something his human self can override his dragon side?”

Toph snorted and turned to look vaguely in the direction of Zuko’s shoulder. “Sorry, Zuko, but I don’t think brief flashes of personality are going to be enough to run your country. You could always consider becoming Katara’s pet, though.”

Zuko crumpled his snout up and snapped his jaws at her. Katara as well levelled Toph with an unimpressed glower. “Toph…”

“Listen guys,” Sokka spoke again, walking into the center of the circle. “We don’t even need to be having this discussion because Zuko is going to turn back to normal. Aang will figure this out and we’ll have the old Zuko back in no time. So let’s stop trying to turn him into a pet and instead think about how we’re going to explain this whole mess after Zuko gets re-humanfied.”

oOo

“Well, guys, I have some good news and some bad news.”

The members of Team Avatar exchanged wary glances. This can’t be good, was the thought on all their minds.

“Why don’t you tell us the good news first?” Katara suggested, raising a hand imploringly.

Aang nodded and the straight line of his mouth curved upward into a smile. “Okay. The good news is that Zuko can definitely be turned back.”

A sigh of relief rose up through the group at Aang’s announcement and Katara’s face broke into a pleased smile. “That’s great!”

Sokka nodded his agreement. “So, then, what’s the bad news?”

At once, Aang’s smile faltered. “Um, yeah. The bad news is that I don’t know how to do it.”

A period of silence followed this statement as the group looked at Aang uncomprehendingly.

“What do you mean you don’t know how to do it?” Toph asked the burning question. “Didn’t the spirits tell you?”

Aang smiled sheepishly and scratched the back of his head. “Well, the spirit I talked to said that the solution was super obvious and not worth his time to explain. Then he shooed me away.”

Sokka slapped his forehead with his palm. “Shooed you away? You didn’t try asking again?”

Aang held his hands up helplessly. “I couldn’t! He shooed me right out of the spirit world.”

Katara exchanged a baffled look with Suki. Spirits could do that?

The next one to speak was Suki. She crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her weight onto one foot before saying, “Well, he said the solution was obvious, so maybe it’s something we can work out for ourselves.”

Upon Suki’s suggestion, Aang and Katara adopted contemplative expressions while Toph and Sokka looked immediately at a loss. “Like what? Ask him?” Toph asked, brandishing her arms. Stepping up to Zuko who was pawing the ground impatiently, she shouted, “Turn back into a human!”

Zuko snorted and flicked his tail but remained quite clearly a dragon.

“Did you really think that was going to work?” Katara asked her, crossing her arms over her chest.

“What? The spirit said it was obvious. That seemed like the most obvious solution to me.”

“Yeah,” Sokka agreed. “What else are we supposed to try? A kiss from prince charming?” He puckered his lips and made obnoxious kissing noises.

The suggestion was obviously meant as a joke, but Suki’s eyes widened and she clapped her hands together. “Wait! Maybe that’s it!”

Sokka turned around to eye her skeptically. “Suki, it was a joke.”

Suki shook her head. “No, it’s a valid suggestion,” she argued. “Think about all the fairy tales where a cursed prince or princess is cured by a kiss.” She turned to point at Zuko. “Zuko’s not technically a prince anymore, but he’s still cursed royalty. Maybe he needs the kiss of a princess to turn him back into a human.”

The group looked around at each other as they considered this. Suki did make a fair point.

“But I thought it was supposed to be true love’s kiss,” Aang disputed. “Won’t it not work if the person who kisses him isn’t in love with him?”

Toph waved a hand dismissively. “Love schmove. Most of the kisses in those stories are from people who literally just met each other. I’m pretty sure just being a princess will be enough.”

Aang didn’t look convinced. “I dunno… I still think it’s supposed to be true love.”

Sokka called the group’s attention to himself by clearing his throat. “Why don’t we just try having Katara kiss him. She’s the most princess-like thing around here. If it doesn’t work, we’ll go find Mai or something.”

Katara made a face at her brother, unappreciative of being called a thing. Still, she couldn’t argue that the three nations were a little short on princesses at the moment. They certainly weren’t about to go and fetch Azula.

“But—”

Aang started to protest, but he was cut off by Katara. “Fine.” She uncrossed her arms and marched over to Zuko. Giving him an unimpressed look, she said, “I’m subjecting myself to dragon slobber for you. I hope you appreciate that.”

“Hey, are you sure you don’t want to maybe think this over for a moment? Maybe there’s another—”

Katara once again ignored Aang and beckoned Zuko to lower his head with a finger. Zuko did as instructed and when his head was within reach she leaned in and pressed her lips to the tip of his snout.

There was a moment where nothing happened. Katara was about to pull away when there was an audible pop! and suddenly the mouth pressed to hers was very much more human than it had been a moment ago.

Startled by the noise and the change, Katara took a step back, breaking the contact. A gasp rose up from their onlookers and Katara’s eyes widened in surprise.

There, standing in front of her as if he’d always been there, was Zuko, back in his proper form and looking just as surprised as they were.

Save for one very noticeable change.

Zuko blinked in astonishment and then lowered his chin to look down at himself. “Oh, thank the spirits, I’m clothed,” he pronounced with a great deal of relief.

Objectively, it was an odd choice for a first sentence following being de-dragonfied, but none of Team Avatar were of the right mind to give it a second thought because they were very much focused on something of far greater interest.

“Zuko…” Katara started, lifting a finger to point at him. “Your face…”

Zuko blinked again and gave her an uncomprehending look. Confused, he raised his hands to his face and touched it with his fingertips. “What? What’s wrong with—” He stopped abruptly when the fingers of his left hand ran over the left side of his face. Katara watched him prod the area first in confusion then shock. “My scar,” he uttered disbelievingly.

“It’s gone,” Sokka finished for him, sounding just as amazed.

Sure enough, Zuko’s left eye, which had previously been warped by angry scar tissue, was now whole and completely unmarked. He also sported two matching eyebrows and a wholly formed left ear. He moved his two good eyes around to look at each member of Team Avatar one by one and Katara noted that he didn’t have to turn his head to see Toph, who was standing in his periphery. As the reality of the change registered, Zuko’s lips turned upward into a smile and then stretched all the way into a grin. “It’s gone,” he echoed Sokka, excitement lacing his tone. “It’s gone!” He laughed out loud and touched the locale again in joyous wonder.

Katara found herself grinning as well. “Zuko, that’s wonderful.”

Zuko removed his hand from him face and turned his pleased expression on her. Without warning, he took a step forward and grabbed her waist with both hands, lifting her high into the air and spinning her around elatedly. Katara made a noise of surprise upon being removed from the ground but laughed when she saw Zuko’s happy face grinning up at her. He set her down after two spins and grabbed her in a tight hug.

“It must be because of the transformation,” Suki posited when he let her go.

“Yeah, speaking of which,” Sokka chimed back in, “Zuko, you were just a full-sized, fire-breathing dragon. You do know that, right?”

Zuko turned from Katara to look at them. His happy smile faded into a more serious expression. “Yeah, sort of.” He crossed his arms and his eyebrows pinched together. “It’s kind of hazy, but I’m aware that happened.”

“And are you aware that you kidnapped Katara and have been hiding in this cave for the past few days?” Aang asked, pointing to the cavemouth at Zuko’s back.

Zuko turned around to look at the cave and Katara saw a confused look appear on his face. “I did?”

“Yeah, you definitely did,” Sokka confirmed. “The whole world’s in a panic about that, by the way.”

Zuko’s cheeks colored slightly and he shot Katara an apologetic look. “Oh. Uh, sorry.”

Katara shook her head. “Don’t mention it. Really.”

“Well, then,” Suki said, her tone portending a topic shift. “Now that Zuko’s back to normal—er, mostly—I think it’s about time we get him back to Ba Sing Se so we can explain what happened to the Earth King before things get any more out of control.”

Zuko nodded vigorously. “Yes. That’s a great idea. Let’s go immediately.”

Spurred into action by Suki’s statement, the group left the cave behind and made for Appa. They had a dragon-ton of damage control to do.

As the members of Team Avatar clambered up into Appa’s saddle, Aang hung back, an uncomfortable look on his face. To himself, he muttered, “Wait, that worked because Katara’s royalty, right? It wasn’t true love.”

“Aang, get over here!” Toph shouted from Appa’s saddle. “Bison’s leaving!”

Aang shook his head and jogged over to Appa.

No, surely not. Katara and Zuko? In love? Psssh. Not in a million years.

#Zutara #Zutara Month 2018 #zk month 2018 #30 days of Zutara #i really enjoyed writing this one #this is the kind of crack story that makes my joker heart glad

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mst3kproject · 6 years

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Gamera vs Jiger (1970)

That’s right, Hollywood After Dark was actually so fucking depressing I decided the only thing that could cheer me up was a Gamera movie – and lo! When I typed our sabre-toothed saviour’s name into YouTube, up pops this film, which I’d never seen! Gamera vs Jiger was directed by Noriaki Yuasa, who brought us the other Gamera films, and features a really annoying noise and some even more annoying little kids!

The city of Osaka is getting ready to host some kind of world’s fair. Young Hiroshi is particularly eager to see it, as is his American friend Tommy, because their families are both intimately involved with the preparations. Hiroshi’s father, an inventor, is building mini-submarines for one exhibit, while Tommy’s, an archaeologist, is bringing in a mysterious stone statue all the way from Wester Island in the Pacific. The statue is called The Devil’s Whistle and the natives don’t want to let it go, because a legend says it’s the only thing keeping away something called Jiger. Boy, I bet that won’t come back to bite anybody in the ass, will it?

Turns out the reason the statue is called the Devil’s Whistle is because when wind blows over the hole in its top, it makes a really, really annoying sound that drives everybody insane – the crew of the ship transporting it, the audience, and a weird warthog-dinosaur-looking creature. Sure enough, this is Jiger, who sets out to destroy the statue and anything else it might happen to come across. Looks like a job for Gamera to me!

Now, the formula for these movies is to have Gamera get injured in an early fight, so that the people of Japan have to try to take on the monster themselves. They then fail, and Gamera miraculously returns, summoned by the whining of bratty children in tiny shorts, to save the day! That’s what happens here, too. So how does Gamera lose his first face-off against Jiger? Is he frozen, like he was by Barugon? Held at bay by a threat to children, like he was by Viras? Beat up and forced to retreat to the water to heal, like by Guiron or Gyaos?

Hell no! Jiger is much more creative. The first time the two monsters fight, Jiger fires quills into Gamera’s arms and legs so he can’t pull them into his shell and fly away, then rolls him over on his back and leaves him on a rocky island to starve to death! Then we have to watch Gamera try to flip himself over again using his tail, screeching out in pain the entire time, and it truly is the sorriest I’ve ever felt for him. Then at their second encounter, Jiger stabs Gamera in the shoulder with some kind of stinger, and Gamera staggers off in agony. There’s then this bizarre sequence where the kids take one of those tiny submarines down Gamera’s esophagus and find that Jiger has implanted a fucking embryo in his chest which is now devouring him from the inside out like one of those creepy spider wasps! Holy shit! Since when did Gamera do body horror?

Gamera spends so much of this movie in obvious pain, I think it would probably be rather distressing for a child to watch. The part where the embryo is growing inside him, and Gamera turns white with his skeleton briefly visible before his glowing eyes go out, actually distressed me and I’m in my thirties. I think this might be the only time I’ve actually seen the children in one of these movies give up on Gamera in what sounds like honest despair, when Hiroshi declares, “oh, he’s dead!” It feels weird to talk about a Gamera movie being dark, but this one gets there.

After the ridiculousness of Gamera vs Guiron, Gamera vs Jiger represents the series trying to regain some of its self-respect and the respect of its audiences (as demonstrated by the fact that the next installment was Gamera vs Zigra, it didn’t work). The dark content is probably an intentional part of this, and it sits a little uneasily alongside the cheerful absurdity that naturally comes of this being a Gamera movie. Sometimes it kind of works, but more often it really doesn’t. The miniatures and matte paintings are as terrible as anything in Mighty Jack or, for that matter, in previous Gamera films. The music includes classics like We’re Gonna Ride our Bicycles and of course the immortal Love Theme from Gamera, sung by a chorus of slightly tone-deaf grade-schoolers. The pun ‘Wester Island’ is kind of awe-inspiring in its sheer lameness, and the dialogue includes technical language like ‘it’s based on super-ultra-violent waves!’ The foleyed-in footsteps sound like all the actors are wearing tap shoes. The dubbing sucks. The dubbing of the children, particularly Tommy’s little sister Susan, is so terrible it actually manages to suck and blow at the same time.

My favourite nugget of silliness is the scene in which one of the scientists shows a slide of an x-ray of Gamera. How the fuck do you x-ray Gamera?! Imagine the host sketch in which Joel and the bots try to figure it out!

But Gamera movies, like all kaiju eiga, live and die by their monsters and the fighting between them. The Gamera of Gamera vs Jiger looks as dumb and rubbery as he ever did (I’m particularly fond of his belly-flop landings), but Jiger is actually pretty cool and mean-looking, with a surprisingly plausible quadrupedal gait – while Guiron always looked like a guy crawling around in a rubber costume, Jiger actually moves like a four-legged animal and I can only attribute this to a very gifted suit-maker. Some of Jiger’s powers, like its quill-shooting, are quite interesting and scary. Others, like its ability to fly by shooting steam out of its ears, are laugh-out-loud stupid.

The fights themselves are kind of interesting in that they are battles of wits, as well as monster fights. Both Gamera and Jiger are depicted as observing their enemy and learning from what they see. In the first fight, Gamera learns that Jiger will try to wrap its tail around his neck, and pulls his head into his shell at the last minute. Jiger learns that Gamera must retract his limbs in order to fly, and uses the quills to prevent this. The fact that both combatants are intelligent ups the ante quite a bit, without giving them the childlike human motivations that turned the monsters of Godzilla vs Megalon into cartoon characters. The brutality I mentioned continues into the final fight, culminating in Gamera impaling Jiger in the face with the statue that started the whole thing!

Just as often, of course, the fights are ridiculous. There is a bit where Gamera throws Jiger up in the air, but Jiger lands on the other end of the fallen tower Gamera is standing on, launching him into some buildings in turn like something out of a kaiju-fueled Rube Goldberg machine.

The setpiece sequence of the film, and the one that sets it apart from any other Gamera movie, is the Fantastic Voyage bit where the two boys go inside him with the submarine to remove the Jiger embryo. Fantastic Voyage was made in 1966, so I suspect it was indeed the inspiration. Unfortunately, Gamera’s innards are not nearly as cool as anything in the earlier film – and in retrospect, Fantastic Voyage doesn’t even look that cool anymore. Instead, the baby Jiger chases the kids around on an obvious stage set, among tunnels that aren’t nearly gooey enough to be something’s anatomy. The inside of Gamera’s lungs are made of inflated plastic bags with some algae inside them, and seeing the Jiger suit at its actual size is laughable. For all that, though, the sequence is sometimes pretty tense, and when it fails at that it’s at least amusing.

I do like Gamera movies in general. I mean, yeah, they’re not very good, they’re not particularly meaningful and they’re not gonna win any awards, but they’re fun to watch, fun to write about, and fun to heckle with friends. I’d even say that Gamera vs Jiger is one of the better ones. It doesn’t have the annoyingly irrelevant moral of Gamera vs Zigra, and a lot more money, effort, and creativity went into it than that movie or Gamera vs Guiron. It helps a lot that the kids here are a little older – Hiroshi and Tommy are specifically described as being twelve years old, instead of the five or six-year-old Kenny and Helen from Zigra. The kids do keep ending up in places they don’t belong but for once the adults respond fairly realistically to this.

In reviewing Gamera vs Barugon I noted that insofar as Gamera symbolizes anything, it’s probably childlike faith in good overcoming evil. Apparently I was right, because that is explicitly stated in the closing scene of Gamera vs Jiger – the adults admit that Hiroshi and Tommy were right about Gamera being the hero Japan needs, and that they should have believed in him. This is still a weird attitude to take towards a giant monster that wrecks almost as much shit as Jiger does, but I guess that’s just something you have to accept about kaiju eiga. There’s also some attempt at a statement with the world’s fair setting, in that what Gamera has saved is a place where all humanity can come together to learn from each other. Gamera movies do seem to be basically optimistic in outlook, positing that humans are basically good and higher forces are looking out for us, and that’s probably one of the things I like about them.

As one final note, the movie claims that ‘Wester Island’ is the last remaining bit of the lost continent of Mu. Godzilla vs Megalon did something similar with Easter Island and ‘Seatopia’, and was made only three years later… did one inspire another, or were Easter Island and Lost Continents just big things in Japan in the early 70’s? If the former, that represents a rather curious inversion: Gamera began his life as a ripoff of Godzilla, but many years later we find Godzilla movies stealing ideas from Gamera instead!

#mst3k #reviews #episodes that never were #gamera vs jiger #70s #antiimperialist kaiju

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dontbeallupinmyfriesdawg · 7 years

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Tyler/Jeremy + college au + we hate each other and are stuck together on this dumb studio art project (bonus points for unsympathetic TA!Klaus)

A/N: I kind of want to call this a very late birthday present for Angie. Also this is part 1 of ???

It’s 2:45 in the afternoon and Jeremy Gilbert is sitting in his usual seat in the back of the art studio, once again wondering what it was that he’d done in a past life or this one to make God hate him so much. He’d enrolled in college, as per his parent’s request, he’d grown out of his rebellious phase and stopped doing unsettling things like using recreational drugs on a school night, stealing Elena’s nail polish and only hanging out with people that treated school like an optional pastime and never seem to have last names. What’s more, he was actually getting decent grades and managing to stay out of trouble (a first in his life). So short of his penchant for ripping the heads of Elena’s Barbie dolls when they were kids and sticking them on the backs of pencils for his own amusement, Jeremy was stumped as to what grudge karma possibly had against him.

A more reasonable explanation than the universe inexplicably trying to ruin his life was the idea that their TA Mr Mikaelson (who more or less taught their entire course considering that their actual teacher - Shane - was quite clearly a pothead who believed in ‘leaving his students to be free and let their creative juices flow’ and therefore never showed up for class) was orchestrating this entire situation for his own amusement. That was the only possible explanation for why he had paired him up for an assignment with Tyler Lockwood of all people; the one person in the entire class Jeremy blatantly didn’t couldn’t stand (there was a grand total of 1 person in the entire class he actually liked and a resounding 2 more he tolerated, the rest Jeremy could care less about and made a point of ignoring).

The problem was, Tyler was so freaking transparent. Jeremy knew a poser when he saw one. Tyler was just like every hollow-headed jock he knew from high school that took an art class because they saw an easy way to sleep their way through some extra credits or scores some ass because they thought taking an art class would make them look sensitive to chicks.

Tyler actually had the audacity to walk in every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon like he was doing everyone else a favor by even turning up for the class. Jeremy knew for a fact Tyler didn’t take any notes or do any rough sketches in class when Mr. Mikaelson asked them to (not that he ever watched what Tyler was doing because he didn’t care) so it baffled the hell out of him how Mikaelson hadn’t kicked him out of the class yet. Unlike High School, Whitmore had no obligation to pander to its athletic students and even if Tyler’s parents had donated a wing to the campus, Mikaelson was hardly the type of person who gave a rat’s ass about the prestige of his students. So Tyler had to be turning in his assignments and doing some work at some point.

Part of what Jeremy low-key respected about Mr. Mikaelson (while simultaneously loathing him) was that he was no respecter of persons. He hated everybody equally: everyone had an equal chance of being screamed at and humiliated for the quality of their lines or shading and Mikaelson gave out F grades like they were going out of style. An optimist would attribute Mikaelson’s teaching style to being some kind of backward motivational tactic. But optimists were idiots and anyone with sense knew that Mikaelson was just a sadistic bastard with a pool of stale black coffee where his soul should be.

Which brought him to his current predicament. When Mikaelson had announced the pairs in class, Tyler hadn’t so much as flinched, let alone glanced in his direction, maintaining his aloof, I’m-too-cool-to-care demeanor - for who, Jeremy didn’t know. Liv, his one friend on the course and arguably - his psychopath roommate Kol aside - the entire campus, had shot him a sympathetic glance from where she sat and then proceeded to text him the thunderstorm emoji and a sad face.

Despite her and the rest of his classmates scurrying out of the class once the bell went and Mikaelson had dismissed them with his usual trademark grunt, Jeremy found himself rooted in his seat, unfathomably burning a hole in the back of Tyler’s head, as he too hadn’t made a move to leave the room.

If Jeremy didn’t know better he’d say they were in some kind of competition with one another. That somehow, by not getting up, Tyler was telepathically communicating to him that the first one of them to leave was the loser and he didn’t intend for it to be him. That was the problem with Tyler. He unnerved him, for a dumb, (objectively) attractive, stereotypical jock, he confused the living hell out of Jeremy. He always felt the need to prove something to him despite the fact that Tyler barely acknowledged his existence most of the time, save for the occasional glares and not so accidental shoves they walked past each other. Jeremy didn’t know what made him go out of his way to antagonize Tyler on the occasion that they did speak or why at Whitmore’s annual art fair he felt the need to make a jibe at Tyler and imply that he wasn’t ‘cultured’. As far he could tell it was a reflex. A knee jerk response. An annoying one he wished he could curtail.

His sister, the budding psychology major that she was now (her true calling apparently) would probably characterize his complicated altercations with Tyler as the result of unresolved frustrations he had with High school bullies, similar to Tyler that he wasn’t able to confront. Guys that Jeremy concurrently wanted to impress but also punch in the face but never had the chance.

But he had never been one for introspection. It was far easier to chalk Tyler up to being a dick and not give his juvenile behavior towards him any unnecessary thought. Yes. Much easier that way.

Mikaelson had apparently finished getting halfway to second base with the cup of coffee in his hands and had noticed that he and Tyler were still there. He looked up and locked eyes with Jeremy, which was usually a student’s first and only warning to stop doing whatever stupid shit they were doing to piss Mikaelson off and if necessary run while they had the chance but Jeremy refused this time to let himself be intimidated and decided to hold his ground. It was probably a lost cause but he wasn’t going to leave the room without at least trying to convince Mikaelson to let him switch partners, even if it killed him.

Which it quite possibly would.

Seeing that his usual method of intimidation didn’t take, Mikaelson rolled his eyes at Jeremy and instead, wandered over to where Tyler was hunched over his desk nearer the front of the room and cleared his throat obnoxiously. It was only when Tyler didn’t move that Jeremy realized that Tyler was, in fact, asleep. When Mikaelson realized it too, he paused for a couple of seconds before raising his fist and abruptly rapping his knuckles against the table.

To his credit, Tyler didn’t leap out of his sleep like Jeremy would have (and had on several occasions, complete with drool and everything) and merely shot Mikaelson a inconvenienced look before tucking his arms behind his head and stretching out the kinks in his muscles (which didn’t interest Jeremy in the slightest because who cared how many back muscles Tyler had? certainly not him).

“What?” Tyler grumbled as if Mikaelson was standing over his bed at midnight addressing him in his dorm room instead of in a classroom in the middle of the day.

“Get out, Lockwood.” Mikaelson hissed, not sparing Tyler another look as he turned and began to clear his desk.

Tyler nodded blearily and rose from his chair, still not bothering to acknowledge Jeremy on his way out (even though Jeremy knows he saw him). Why that makes him so angry in the first place is a mystery to him. It’s another confusing emotion that he shoves down because even if he wanted to confront it he doesn’t have the time because Tyler is long gone and Mikaelson is towering over him looking murderous.

When Jeremy manages to regain his wits he stutters out:

“Sir I-”

Only to be rudely cut off by Mr. Mikaelson’s bored voice.

“Speak Gilbert, I haven’t got all day. There’s obviously something you want to get off your chest,” he muttered disinterestedly.

“It’s about Tyler, sir,” Jeremy began.

“Ah, Tyler,” Mikaelson repeats, a rare smile gracing his (admittedly) handsome features - a smile he usually reserved her circumstances that occurred at someone else’s expense.

“Yeah.” Jeremy nodded. “Him. You can’t do that.”

Mikaelson paused between his desk and board at the front of the room. He frowned processing what Jeremy just said.

“I’m unsure what specifically you’re referring to but I assure you that it is my divine right to do whatever it is I please while I’m in charge of this classroom, Mr. Gilbert,” he said coolly.

Jeremy felt he urge to make a snide comment about the fact that it was technically Shane’s classroom but he didn’t think that would help his case so he bit his tongue and instead said:

“I can’t work with Tyler,”

When Mikaelson kept his back to him and didn’t respond he decided to up the ante.

“Please,”

Mikaelson turned and arched an eyebrow, the amused expression reappearing on his face.

“I never took you as one to grovel, Jeremy,”

Jeremy sighed frustratedly and scrubbed his hands over his face, mentally chastising himself for what he was about to do.

“What do you want?” He asked.

“Want?”

“Do you want your board cleaned, or me to carry your stuff before class or do extra assignments. What?” Jeremy implored him.

MIkaelson stood and stared at him for a moment before the corner of his lips quivered and curled into an almost cruel looking half smile. The thought struck Jeremy that the man had quite obviously missed his calling as a bond villain and should be somewhere stroking a white fluffy cat and planning world domination instead of standing here playing with his mental health.

“You really don’t want to work with the Lockwood boy do you Gilbert?” Mikaelson purred, folding his arms behind his back and strolling closer towards him.

“Gee, is it that obvious?” Jeremy deadpanned, his need for sarcasm overpowering his will to get Mikaelson on side.

Mr. Mikaelson’s smile only grew more patronizing as he approached him and to Jeremy’s unpleasant surprise he reached out and rested his arm on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry mate,” Mikaelson began in that entirely unsympathetic tone of his. “But my decision is final. I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do to help.”

Jeremy’s eyes rolled back so far he could actually feel them touching his frontal lobe.

“That is literally the complete opposite of the truth,”

Mikaelson gave him one final disparaging glass and walked back toward his desk.

“Good day Jeremy. Do make sure you and Tyler have that project due on time. You’re well aware I have no scruples about kicking anyone off of this course who refuses to comply with my demands.”

Jeremy bit his lip in order to physically stop himself from screaming and forced himself to grab his bag off his seat and head towards the door. In his hurry to get as far away from the art studio and as close to the safety of his dorm as possible, he wrenched open the door and ended up coming face to face with the person who, unbeknownst to him, had been lurking behind it.

Tyler.

Jeremy was about to stutter out an apology but caught himself when he realized who it was. For some reason both boys just stared at each other awkwardly for a moment before Jeremy half hearted mumbled “What do you want?” just as Tyler at the same time grunted out “Watch where you’re going punk,”.

“’Punk’, seriously? What is it 2005?” Jeremy quipped, unable to help himself.

Tyler screwed his eyes shut and shook his head.

“Jesus, Gilbert do you ever shut up?”

Jeremy was about to open his mouth to fire a response when Tyler silenced him by shoving a folded up piece of paper in his face and immediately after doing a 360 and walking away from him.

“What the hell is this?” Jeremy asked, staring down at it incredulously as if he was afraid it would explode in his hands.

“My number idiot,” Tyler called out carelessly over his shoulder. “I’m not failing this class because of you,”

1k followers, send me a ship along with fic or headcanon prompt

#jyler #jeremy x tyler #jeremy gilbert #tyler lockwood #klaus mikaelson #liv parker #elena gilbert #tvd #the vampire diaries #jyler fic #jyler fanfiction #fanfiction #1k followers #thetourguidebarbie

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askaphmaine · 7 years

Text

“With that, that’s the end of the meeting. I hope everyone will be prepared for next time. We have a lot more to talk about.” With that statement from D.C., another long capital meeting was over. Monty groaned, shoving his ‘paperwork’ and ‘notes’ into his bag. Most of the papers were simply scribbled on, so he would appear as if he cared. A couple had drawings, simple pencil sketches of what had been happening, D.C. yelling at everyone to shut up, Concord making and throwing paper airplanes, Augusta pointedly avoiding everyone by hiding under the table, anything interesting.

“Oh, Montpelier~!”

‘Ah, shit.’ Just the person he didn’t want to see. He liked Los Angeles, he really did. She was stunning, with dark golden hair curling around her shoulders and deep blue eyes, not unlike a lake or the ocean. The problem was her flirting. She seemed to enjoy his discomfort, taking every opportunity to jump on him, occasionally even kissing his cheek. While some may have enjoyed the attention, for someone used to four wheeling and mudding, it was overkill to an extreme. The worst part, though, was her comments.

“You know, you’d look so much nicer in a suit! Or anything out of that disgusting plaid. You should let me take you shopping!” Like that one. He couldn’t understand how she thought those kind of comments were okay. He liked his shirt, it had been a gift from his brother. Sure, it was a bit worn but it fit fine and was warm. And he would never wear a suit. Never. “U-um, Montpeli-?”

Maybe storming off wasn’t his best idea. Maybe flipping L.A. the bird wasn’t either. Regardless, Monty didn’t stick around to see the aftermath of his actions. He had soda to drink and cars to work on. He didn’t have time to deal with western drama. Sadly, it seemed to be finding its way to him.

“Okay, I get it. She pissed you off. But you and I both know she didn’t mean it like that, asshole. Now I’m getting dragged into your lovers-spat.” Concord hissed, glaring at the other capital. Montpelier stayed under the truck, rolling his eyes.

“It’s not a damn lovers-spat. Just toss me my fucking wrench and shut it, dude. She’s old enough to deal with the consequences.” A dull thud hit the area to the left of Monty’s head. “Thank you.” A sigh followed.

“Alright, listen. I understand she gets on your nerves. I really do. But you literally made her cry. Maybe you should explain what pissed you off so much. It might make things-” Loud clanging interrupted Concord’s nagging. Monty slid out from his work.

“Explain? EXPLAIN? YOU DON’T THINK I’VE TRIED? SHE LITERALLY IGNORES ME.”

“Dude, stop yellin-”

“NO! SHE ACTS ALL HIGH AND MIGHTY JUST BECAUSE SHE’S BASICALLY RICH AND THINKS SHE CAN WALTZ INTO MY LIFE AND COMMAND ME TO CHANGE? SHE DOESN’T WANT ME, SHE WANTS A LITTLE BOY TOY SHE CAN ABANDON ONCE SHE GETS BORED.”

“You’re crying.”

“Fuck.” A soft sob. “Off.”

“Yeah, no can do. Like it or not, you’re part of Northern New England. You’re stuck with me.” Concord wrapped an arm around the other boy’s shoulders. “We’re family, like it or not. I know she doesn’t listen. But here’s my plan, okay? Trust me, it’s a doozy.”

::A couple days later::

Silence. Never had L.A. felt more uncomfortable. Monty was acting odd, showing no emotion. After what had happened, she had begun to think he was avoiding her before she got a text asking for them to meet up. She wasn’t expecting an apology from him at all but she also certainly wasn’t expecting him to be emotionless and cold.

“You need to stop.” Monotone. A small shiver went up her spine. She only ever heard stories about the people who fit this description, the ‘Mainers’ as they were called. They were only a state away from him, though...

“Stop...what?” She winced at how small she sounded. She was one of the largest cities in America!

“Acting like a lovesick idiot. Grabbing me. Kissing my cheeks. The flirting and the attempts to command me need to stop.” Com…mand? She could understand the ‘lovesick’ part but when had she ever tried to… Oh. Slowly everything clicked. Her comments on his clothing and his pastimes. He felt like she was trying to control him.

“I’m...sorry. I never meant...Nevermind. I’ll stop. I swear on everything I own, I’ll stop.”

::Later::

“Connor, you’re a genius. How did you know acting like those three would work?”

“I’ve spent enough time with the Mainers to know it’s an act and how they manage to do it. All it takes is some practice. I am glad to hear that it worked!”

“Yeah, she promised on everything she owns that she’d stop. I don’t think I’ve been this relieved in ages!” Monty’s grin widened. “It’s like a weight has been lifted!”

“I’m glad for you. I really am. Now, where were we on the truck?”

::Elsewhere::

“Um, hey, Izzy? Can we, like, talk?” Braids swayed slightly as the capital of California glanced up.

“Sure, Liz. How did the talk with Montpelier go?”

“See, that’s the problem.”

“…I see. Well tell me all about it.”

“For starters, you know the stories of the Maine Trio Allison will tell us?” A nod. “Well, that’s how he was acting. Cold, emotionless, distant, you name it. He fit the tale perfectly.” Sacramento gasped. Montpelier had never acted like that before. “Exactly. But that’s not the real problem. He thought I was being…controlling. I didn’t mean to be but you know. I guess I came across as someone trying to change him and he didn’t take it well. Problem is, I have no idea how else to talk to him? But then I had an idea!”

“Oh no. Lizzy, please tell me you’re not thinking what I’m thinking.”

“Please?”

::Another time skip because I am the worst::

Normally, Monty was left alone outside of meetings and his fellow New Englanders. He had woken up as normal, ate breakfast, the entire works, all without interruption, even from his older brother. His pajamas, a t-shirt and plaid sleep pants, got to stay on for once. Normally he had to be ready for anything with Liam and that included being dressed and ready for a hike.

Then he heard the doorbell. No one, not even his ‘family’ visited this early. They all had things to do and they all understood that the Vermont Mounties did not like dealing with anyone besides each other before noon. A glance at the stove clock told him it was only 8 am, four hours before the barrier was lifted. There were only three options. One was that Liam got locked out and was either drunk or hungover. The second was an emergency. Third, some flatlander was annoying him. Monty didn’t even want to think it was the third.

The world loved proving him wrong. Apparently, either karma or fate hated him. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he took in the sight before him. L.A. in a ponytail was cute, sure. But the muddy jean cut-off shorts, torn plaid-like shirt, and baseball cap 3 sizes too big really didn’t suit her. He didn’t even have the energy to produce the ‘Mainer’ personality. Hell, he didn’t even have the energy to listen as she tried speaking about trucks. Something about…mud driving? He held the bridge of his nose, leaning on the doorframe.

“L.A. stop. It’s 8 in the morning.” Silence. “I’m too tired for this whole ‘interaction’ thing and would really prefer to just eat my breakfast in peace.”

“Oh…sorry. I guess I must be annoying, huh.” He felt a sigh escape. She sounded so sad. Why did she have to act like this? As cute as it was, she looked incredibly awkward, tugging on the odd clothing.

“Listen, no one, and I mean no one, is allowed to visit Vermont and I until 12pm.”

“Ah, I’m so sorry, I didn’t-“

“If you annoy me, I’m kicking you out. No second chances.” A soft ‘huh?’ floated to his ears. “Look, you’re lucky it’s fall. It may not get cold in your part of the country but here? You’ll freeze in that. I also doubt you’ve eaten. Not to mention you look ready to burn that outfit. Just get inside, you can borrow some of my clothes. They may be big, but at least they’re clean. And actually cover you.” He shoved himself up, not even glancing behind him to see if she was following. The door closed, though he didn’t hear any footsteps. “Just take your shoes off and follow me.”

Silently, she listened, much to his shock. He had to admit, he was expecting resistance. It didn’t really hit him what was happening until he was standing in his room, looking for clothes. “You’ll have to wear some sweatpants, nothing else I own will fit you. Any complaints?” He questioned, glancing at her. A shake of the head. “Good. Here, try these.” With that, he tossed her a pair of gray sweats, a black shirt, and a plaid button up. “You’ll want to wear all of it. It’s cold.” Monty didn’t hang around, vanishing downstairs to the kitchen. It took a couple of minutes for L.A. to reappear, keeping her head down. Monty was a bit pleased she kept the ponytail.

“I’m sorry for showing up and making you feel like you had to help me.” He felt himself groan.

“Listen, just sit. This batch will be done soon. And trust me, someone showing up at my door first thing in the morning does not make me want to help them.” He could hear the sharp intake. “Alright, I don’t have the energy for the ‘Maine’ thing, so just listen. I get you’re trying to connect with me for whatever reason. I’m not that dumb. While you may have gone about it in an awful way-“

“I should’ve listened to Izzy…” He paused at the whisper.

“I have no clue who ‘Izzy’ is but yeah. You really should’ve. Not that it was offensive. Just obnoxious. Do you remember what my point was during our meeting?”

“You felt like I was trying to control you. I promised I’d stop but here I am…”

“Yea- What?” Confused, Monty turned, setting a plate in front of the blonde.

“Was I…wrong?”

“Uh, yeah? I never said anything about control. I said you were- oh.” Silence. Slowly, he sat across from her, staring at his plate. Placing his elbows on either side, he dropped his face into his hands. Here he thought it was over. “I didn’t mean you were controlling me. Trust me, Vermont tries to all the time.”

“Then what was I doing?” The almost begging tone nearly got him to lift his head. Nearly.

“You were trying to change me. Even if you didn’t mean to, you were. I’m not a suit and tie kind of person. I’m not into fashion, I actually couldn’t care less. Vermont and I are outdoorsy guys who wear a lot of plaid. We go mudding- wait, is that what you meant by mud driving?” He looked up, shaking his head. He pressed him palms into his cheeks. “Never mind. We go mudding, hiking, and hunting. I fix cars and trucks for fun. I’m not someone like what you’re used to, L.A.” For the first time, he looked her right in the eyes. “I’m not a toy you can dress up. I’m not interested.”

“Can…Can I speak?”

“Sure.”

“I never…I never meant to come across like that. My comments, though out of line, were meant to mean that you’d look great in one of those outfits. I never thought of forcing you to wear any. I never…” With a deep breath, she closed her eyes. Monty blinked. He hadn’t realized he had been staring. “I never saw you as some sort of ‘toy’. In fact, you remind me of Izzy and Nathan- I mean, Sacramento and Northern California. I guess I got caught up thinking you’d react to the comments the same way they do. But they grew up with SoCal and I. They’re used to it and know we don’t really mean it. I’m very sorry for coming across that way.” She slowly opened her eyes, keeping her head down. For a couple of minutes, the two of them sat there, L.A. picking at the pancakes and Monty watching her.

“Alright. And the lovesick attitude? I doubt you treat your family that way.” If anyone asked, both would swear to the grave that L.A. didn’t blush. L.A. to keep her image. Monty to keep the ability to see it to himself. The stuttering only helped further the redness. “I see. Well, it should be noted that I hated the outfit you wore here.”

“I, uh, kinda figured…”

“Good, so let me make one think clear. Changing someone for someone else is stupid. And that ‘someone’ includes yourself. So, we both know you know nothing about trucks, mudding, ect. What do you enjoy? Besides fashion, I mean.”

“Well, I can, like, surf. Even in heels.”

“See, now we’re getting somewhere. That’s an actually interesting fact. What about movie-“

“I am literally Hollywood. I know all the easter eggs, the classics, everything.” She scooted closer, a gleam in her eyes. Monty smirked.

“Oh? Well, then we have something in common. I just so happen to have a movie collection. Shall we pick through it?”

“You. Are. On.” Lizzy practically launched herself from the chair, food all but forgotten. Monty chuckled, grabbing both plates. Might as well eat as they watch, right? “Oh, and Montpeli-“

“Just call me Monty.”

“Alright, Monty. I just wanted to tell you to call me Lizzy.”

“Deal.”

“Dude, you have BeetleJuice? Guess what we’re watching first!”

“I mean, it was filmed here in Vermont. We have a system. ‘Filmed in A New England State’, ‘Takes Place in a New England State’, and ‘Other’. 13 different groups, some overlap. Maine’s are best viewed around Halloween.”

“Oh, please. Carrie is a classic and is perfect for viewing year round. Anyone who says otherwise is a liar.”

Hours later, Liam staggered up the steps to his home. He wasn’t drunk but he was tired. The trip to Mass left him exhausted. Dealing with Mass left him exhausted. Opening the door, he faintly heard the sounds of a movie. It sounded like the selection screen, though he had to doubt this. There was no way Monty would just leave a movie running, not even for food. Slowly, he crept towards the entrance to the shared living room. Sneaking a glance in, he saw a lump under a blanket, larger than his brother would be. Carefully moving closer, he took note of all the food bowls scattered around. Once he reached the sofa, he saw something he knew he’d hold over Monty for a while. Curled up, fast asleep, was Monty and a girl. But not any girl, oh no. Los Angeles herself was curled up on his chest, slumbering peacefully. ‘My little brother, off falling in love with a westerner.’ Liam thought, leaning over to pull the blanket up further. It was going to be a cold night. A smile found its way onto Liam’s lips as he glanced down at the two. Tugging at Monty’s was a soft smile of his own.

#aph los angeles #aph Montpelier #fanfic post #wow this got LONG #warning this is 6 pages on google docs #at 12 point font normal spacing #aph montpelier #lospelier

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cinnonym · 5 years

Note

Who might I be? Anyway, as your ask is open for prompts: extreme (distinctive) characters.

Well, if that isn’t my favourite person in the whole wide world

It’s not every day you encounter the perfect jawline. So when you do, you don’t let it go again. Which, to sum it up, was how Emmy Lou ended up at the mechatronics workshop.

Her backpack dug painfully into this place right between her ribs, where it hurt the most, the assortment of pens and notebooks an unorganized mess. In her defence, she had thrown everything together in her haste to get up and follow jawline-girl from the tram.

Normally, unfinished drawings didn’t annoy her much – it was inevitable if you insisted on drawing strangers on the tram. A tram, by very definition, both collected and lost people at every station, none of which were in Emmy Lou’s control. Her notebooks were overflowing with half-drawn sketches, their status ranging anywhere from a few lines to full-grown coloured art pieces, depending on both the schedule of her models and her own motivation on that particular day.

The point was, Emmy Lou didn’t care all that much about the people she perpetuated on her pages. They were practice, simple, gratis practice, a means to an end to some day get her access to art school.

The other day an elderly man had looked over her shoulder and sent her a thumbs-up. „Never give up on your passion,“ he’d said and Emmy Lou still couldn’t decide if she should be discouraged by the hopeless manner he’d said it in, or motivated because he’d gone through the trouble to talk to her at all. Then again, Mary always said she was overthinking too much, so maybe she just ought to be glad to have had a human interaction.

None of which mattered now, Emmy Lou told herself strictly, angling her head backwards to look up at the shabby wall in front of her. A brickstone house, similarly rundown as the cottage Emmy Lou herself lived in these days, covered in malicious looking tendrils of ivy. A rusty sign hung from an iron stick, its colours faded it read „Bill'n'Ben’s, Mechatronics inc“. Beneath the sign was a door with a bell.

Emmy Loud had spent the last five minutes looking at said door. Jawline-girl had vanished behind it, a teasing whip of her ponytail the last thing Emmy Lou had seen from her. It was idiotic, probably, to have come here, on account of a half-finished portrait. It was probably idiotic to have come here, period. Emmy Lou should be at the market, running errands for her mum and younger brothers. Instead she was following a girl to her workplace like a downright creep. On the other hand, now that she had come as far, shouldn’t she at least give the situation a try and ring that bell? What could possibly go wrong?

That, Emmy Lou noticed rather quickly, was exactly the wrong question to ask herself. She had barely finished the thought when the scenarios popped up in her head: jawline-girl could be part of a cult, a group of gangly teenagers just waiting for innocent redheads like Emmy Lou to offer as a sacrifice. Or the mechatronics shop could be a disguise for a laboratory of super-scientists – jawline-girl certainly looked the part – and they would abduct Emmy Lou for their researching purposes as soon as she rang the bell. Or worse, the bell itself could be connected to a bomb, which would inevitably destroy the whole building and everything in it, because evidence had to be annihilated.

Or maybe it wasn’t and instead jawline-girl would open the door and laugh at Emmy Lou. In her mind, Emmy Lou imagined a high-pitched and obnoxious laugh that would destroy the positive image she had of the girl. A sneer that would twist that beautiful jawline into something not at all draw-worthy until Emmy Lou would leave, scarred for life and forever untrusting of human beauty.

Before Emmy Lou could lose herself too much in the twisted corners of her brain – though some of the pictures did make for excellent comic material – she used a trick Mary had once shown her, after one of Emmy Lou’s frequent attacks-of-counterproductive-overthinking, short ACO. She took a deep breath, imagined the oxygen streaming down her pharynx, slowly reaching her tubes first, then her bronchia, alveoli and finally her blood. The only subject Emmy Lou liked more than Arts was Biology, and that was mostly due to her young and over-motivated Arts teacher at school, who had insisted on trying out crazy new methods every week. (Recreating statues had been the worst of them. Emmy Lou hated touching other people.)

Once she had successfully distracted herself with the wonders of breathing and the human organism, Emmy Lou turned back to the door. It didn’t have a window, which was too bad, since Emmy Lou would have loved the minimal advantage of knowing where she was about to go before she went there. As it was, she didn’t have much of a choice but to press the bell and wait.

In the twenty-ish seconds it took Bill or Ben or whoever actually owned the shop to open the door, Emmy Lou had made three half-hearted attempts to run. In fact, the only thing really keeping her from making a dash was that the street the workshop lay in stretched on for at least a mile in each direction, with absolutely no corner, turns or even a house entrance to hide behind. If there was anything more embarrassing than ringing a bell of an unknown shop, it was being caught on her flight.

Plus, she really wanted to finish her portrait of jawline-girl.Which reminded Emmy Lou of the possibility that it could be jawline-girl herself, who was now slowly turning the knob to answer the door, and the thought was so frightening – because what should Emmy Lou say, „I really like your jawline, please let me draw it?“ - that she almost reconsidered her priorities and made a run for it after all.

But by then, the door had finally swung open and Emmy Lou stood rooted to the spot, clutching the string of her backpack with one hand, the other still awkwardly hovering over the doorbell, as she mustered the person in front of her.

It wasn’t the girl, which was a good omen (she hoped). It wasn’t an old man either, which was the picture both Ben and Bill had evoked in Emmy Lou’s mind. It was, however, the next best thing: an elderly woman. Jackpot, Emmy Lou thought, because while the woman watched her with apprehension of the kind that made all words vanish from Emmy Lou’s brain, she also seemed rather kind and grandmotherly, which was always a good thing.

Emmy Lou remembered her manners just in time before the woman could open her own mouth and undoubtedly ask what the hell Emmy Lou was doing here. Because a short girl with too-frizzy hair and a backpack bulging with notebooks certainly didn’t make the impression of frequenting a mechatronics workshop. But Emmy Lou smiled her most convincing smile that she had practiced in front of her mirror for months now and said brightly enough to fool even herself: „Excuse me, Madam, I am looking for Mister Bill?“

Which, for some reason Emmy Lou couldn’t quite understand – Bill was one of the owners or had she remembered a wrong name? - drew a hearty laugh from the woman.

„My dear,” she then said, her voice just as hearty, and not at all frail like Emmy Lou would have expected, “Bill died years ago. I just haven’t gotten around to change the sign yet, besides, it looks so handsomely alliterative, don’t you think? My name’s Benedicta, I’m the widow. Whatever business you had with dear Bill, I’m afraid you’ll have to make do with me instead.“

„Oh,“ made Emmy Lou, who felt incredibly dumb and vaguely horrified at the idea of other, worse outcomes of her blunder. What if Benedicta had gotten angry instead of amused, or worse, started to cry. What if Bill had died yesterday instead of years ago? She could have put her finger right into a fresh wound and hurt this kindly lady whom she didn’t even know, for no other reason than her absolute incompetence to let go of a perfect jawline when she encountered it.

Benedicta, apparently mistaking Emmy Lou’s mortification at the near miss for some sort of grief, put out a hand to stroke Emmy Lou’s sleeve briefly. (Emmy Lou barely held her hand in place instead of recoiling from the touch, but only because she was still too dazed to react.)

„Poor girl, don’t be sad,“ she said, her voice hovering between pity, which Emmy Lou abhorred, and a strange amusement. „He died quite peacefully, in his sleep, whoosh and gone. Besides, nobody is really mourning him, he had always been the kind of person who didn’t quite belong on earth, don’t you think?“

Emmy Lou, once again, hesitated. The sheer volubility of the woman overwhelmed her, but at the same time, she felt grateful she didn’t have to do the talking herself. Also, Benedicta was already half-dragging, half-leading her inside, which seemed like a good first step. Now Emmy Lou only had to find jawline-girl and ask her if she minded posing for her, so she could finish her drawing.

But Benedicta, chattering continuously, solved even the next obstacle for Emmy Lou. They had barely passed through a short and narrow hallway, Emmy Lou struggling to fit her bulky backpack through, when Benedicta interrupted her monologue for a second to call out: „Don’t mind us, Tess, tis just a visitor looking for old Bill, isn’t that perfectly amusing?“ And half a minute later, jawline-girl popped her head around a corner, mustered Emmy Lou with the same cool stare she had objected her phone to, back on the tram, and disappeared again.

Emmy Lou almost started after her, drawn to the possibility and once again mesmerized by the stunning perfection of her jawline, but Benedicta’s hand was still on her sleeve, rooting Emmy Lou to her spot at the kitchen table.

„That was my niece, Tessa, she’s living with me. Helping out at the shop too, though Lord knows she isn’t made for the handiwork – no offence, sweetpie!“ The latter being called out in response to the gruff that came from the corner Tessa had vanished behind.

Benedicta leaned in conspiratorially and winked. „She hates being inept at anything but I’m only telling the truth, you know. People have to learn to live with the truth.“

„I can still hear you,“ Tessa’s voice sounded out, low and melodic though sharp in its irritation, and it was a voice to remember, a voice that demanded attention and praise; a voice befitting that jawline. Once again, Emmy Lou stirred, her artist heart drawing her towards Tessa, towards the artwork. But Benedicta’s grip might as well have been iron for its unwillingness to let her go, and Emmy Lou had no choice but to stay and face the woman’s cheerful smile and airy tone.

„So, what business did you have with dear old Bill?“

Emmy Lou flinched. It seemed ironic, but she had almost forgotten about her excuse to ring the bell, to get into this house which didn’t seem like a workshop at all but more like a really homely kitchen.

„I, uh,“ was what she made as she tried feverishly to come up with an explanation that for one, satisfied Benedicta’s curiosity and on the other hand, could also lead up to a portrait session with Tessa. She came up blank.

Benedicta was still watching her apprehensively and even from Tessa’s general direction, Emmy Lou picked up a curious sense of expectation, almost as if both women knew she had been playing a ruse thus far and were looking forward to the next act of the play Emmy Lou was performing for them.

Emmy Lou coloured. Her mind, her wonderfully imaginative mind, that could come up with a thousand and one horror scenarios if need be, that served as live commentator and innate cinema most waking hours of her day, lay now empty and silent before her, unable to concoct a single excuse.

She sighed.

„I am an artist,“ she said truthfully and at last, before Benedicta could start speaking again, questioning her further, pressing. Her hand, still on Emmy Lou’s arm, felt less comforting now, and a brief image of handcuffs flashed through Emmy Lou’s mind before it went black again. „I’m here because I want to draw - „

„The sign!“ Benedicta interrupted, cheerfully enough to break the heavy atmosphere that had grown in the room. „Of course, that’s why you were mentioning it earlier, Bill had always wanted to repaint the sign. No sense for vintage, the man, that’s what I always said, but you know how they are.“ She nudged Emmy Lou and winked.

Emmy Lou responded with a weak smile of her own, amazed that yet another problem had been solved by Benedicta’s bubbly personality. Was it lying, she asked herself, if she didn’t correct the wrong assumptions other people made? Was it wrong not to mention that it had been Benedicta, who had been speaking of the sign earlier, that Emmy Lou had never mentioned it once? Was it very despicable not to stop Benedicta in her cheerful rant over how she had paint stored downstairs and how Emmy Lou could start whenever she wanted and “feel free to redesign it completely, dear, I love me some change, besides, it wouldn’t hurt business if a fresh sign attracted some more customers than the current one did.”

And then she added „Oh, and dear, Tess can help you, she’s decent with colouring, if not at car work,“ and Emmy Lou decided that if she was a despicable being, at least she got what she wanted. Which was more time to study Tessa’s jawline, so she would go with the play for now.

„That sounds awesome,“ she managed to fit in between two of Benedicta’s floods of words, and both of them ignored the complaining „Aunt Bee!“ from the other room.

When the topic turned towards payment, however, even Emmy Lou’s unscrupulousness found an abrupt end.

„I don’t mind doing it for free,“ she insisted, over and over again, her guts twisting uncomfortably. „Consider it a last gift for poor Bill, a sign in his honour…“

But Benedicta wouldn’t hear of it. „Nonsense,“ she said, her fingers momentarily tightening around Emmy Lou’s wrist with a fierce kindness. „Of course you will be paid, if not in money, at least accept cake and biscuits while you’re working. It’s the least I can do, besides, every girl should have cake and biscuits, I’ve found it lightens the mood so much, don’t you think?“ Emmy Lou couldn’t really argue with that.

In the end, it was decided that Emmy Lou would start her job tomorrow – now she just had to come up with an excuse for mum, to explain her sudden unavailability for daily chores – and that paint and tools would all be provided by Benedicta whereas Emmy Lou just had to „come and make art“.

And promptly, Emmy Lou was out of the warm kitchen and on the shabby street again, her hand clutching a slip of paper with Benedicta’s phone number - ”In case anything comes up, you know” - her mind struggling to comprehend what had actually just happened. She hadn’t seen Tessa again, but that was okay because starting tomorrow she would see the girl more than enough to finish her sketch.

And now, Emmy Lou thought, I just have to come up with an idea for that blasted sign I’m supposed to paint and everything will be fine.

Lying isn’t really lying if you work for it, right? Also, she was adamant to tell herself over and over again; that jawline? It was totally worth it.

#my writing #original writing #prompted #writeblr #writing community

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changji · 5 years

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There’s a limit for when you’re in school but in summer I can do whatever I want bc it’s a Free Country 🤪 u miss are not allowed to get sick u hear me or else I will personally fly to cali & nurse you 😤 A STARBUCKS DRINK FOR $4.85 EYE- THAT’S SO GOOD WTFF I DON’T THINK I’VE PAID LESS THAN $5 FOR A DRINK THERE. You’re really out here like that

Ah I forgot to say how often I climb but I usually try for 3+ times a month bc the gym is pretty far away (by far i mean 2 different buses & an hour of crying). When I first started I was being taught how to tie a figure 8 knot (which is the most important one you need so you don’t die) and i couldn’t fucking get it right so the instructor had to go over it 193837 times & was getting annoyed @ me. LOL I couldn’t look him in the eye at all and my face had never been redder that day lmfao

At least ur teachers like you. I’m like that one student that never says anything and just sits there with an rbf so idk what my teachers think of me LOL. Half the time they don’t know I’m there. I got marked absent a couple times before but i was there in class 😤😤 ohh that’s cool. Band season runs the entire year for my school but that’s probably bc it’s a credit course. Newborn babies kinda are, it’s when they reach a couple months old they become cute

LOL how do you pronounce breakfast? I say salmon with the L & I get hated on by everyone. Taeyomi was great but changji is even better. Like changbin + jisung? Genius. Legends Only. Jkhsdiweiihfew I’m glad my url has an impact on ur daily life 🥵🥵 languages are so hard, I’m literally illiterate in every single one ik. Ikr? Our names are so easy like how do u mispronounce arella? One time someone spelt my name as Adly and I wanted to Perish

The chance the skip 2 math levels? Once again ur a genius legend. I could never esp w math holy moly. Okay dark ones it is!! I was thinking either the 1st or 2nd ones? Which do u like more? Ah new friends. The first weeks are always so awkward bc you don’t really know them well so you don’t know how much of urself you wanna expose (or it’s just me. I’m too much of a crackhead apparently). Wait a moment. Do you have multiple buildings at ur school like a uni campus??

Make out spots at my school is this one sketchy stairwell where all the scary ppl are. The whole school just smells like weed bc 90% of the school are potheads. Alright that’s the deal if we die we die together 😤 I have never heard of bathroom portables before,, those sounds so Extra. Are they like a porta potty? Omg speaking of older grades a bunch of girls who graduated last year came to my work & I was like “oh shit lol ik u all this is awkward”

Oof I’m the older sister so like. Favouritism never works in my favour. My sister will literally start a fight w me but I’m the only one who gets lectured in the end. Like. Bitch u started this 😤 I’m on the older side out of my cousins so I’m just Ignored 😪 I’m placing my bet on 2k words right now for our convos

ah makes sense, i thought there was a time for summer too but it might just be here or i’m dumb 😔 I CANT AFFORD TO GET SICK MISSING ONE DAY OF SCHOOL WILL NOT HELP ME AT ALL ! but thank u for ur concern miss, u should just fly to cali anyway 😪 myb i’ll go to u can i hitchike from here ?? IT IS SO GOOD ITS AMAZING IT WAS SO CHEAP but the drink was super sweet 🤢 i have converted back to normal lattes with no syrup. peet’s is usually 5.20 for my drink and it’s so strong i don’t need extra shots ☺️

3 times,, a month,, i go to the mall like 3 times a week, look @ u being so athletic! tbh i sound lame but i’ve never taken a bus (other than a school bus for field trips) before like. buses here are lowkey sketch but it’s mostly college students. i rely on my parents and uber 🤧 sometimes i walk but. i don’t like to but if i have to i will oop. it takes an hour to get there and an hour back then right? i can’t imagine bro omg i’d just die. i know how to knot my shoelaces and never being able to untangle them so i now wear slip ons 🤪 poor ada, were like the same person but that was me when i took a knitting class for some reason and couldn’t do any of it 😪

okay idk if i told u yet but my ap euro teacher asked who’s been to italy so i raised my hand, he asked how it was and i said “the gelato is rly good” and his face was just. utter disappointment. turns out he was asking abt the art but he didnt clarify it and we weren’t even talking abt art so now i’m known as That Girl 😔 it’s hard to miss me oop, if it’s quiet then i’m sleeping & all my teachers last year knew this 😪 how do u get marked absent?? i wish band was a credit course but it’s only extra curricular 😔 are ur teachers snakes i will Step on them. newborns look fake but yeah they get cute when they’re like half a year old.

like. brek-fust by my friends says brek-fist like it’s more of a u sound than an i but go off u idiots. salmon with the L,, ada,, no,, if u say carmel instead of caramel i’m gonna riot. ugh thanks bro i was lucky someone gave me this url, but nohyuckclub? aka the author of the most legendary mark lee social media au? A Whole Legend, but treerachas? my absolutely fave 🥺 languages are dumb i don’t know english i don’t know spanish my vocab consists of sksk and i oop, and that’s it. HOW DO U MISPRONOUNCE ADA LIKE. when i saw ur name i was like ay-da not ah-da, ppl need to learn bro it’s just said how it’s spelled. AND PERISH LOL I LOVE THE WORDS U USE

i’m actually dumb tho i just hate math oops, i’m more of a lunch kind of person if u know what i mean 😉 JK IM GROSS STOP ME and i like the 2nd one (the red one right? idk it’s all pretty u choose) i don’t wanna expose myself but it happens bc i’m just naturally a crackhead oops. but yeah we have multiple buildings! my campus is pretty small tbh? compared to other schools we’re really small, there’s like 2k kids here and i wanna die. it’s so crowded in the halls like get away from me u smelly thot. we have 3 buildings connected by 3 hallways, and a few other ones like the science buildings, music room, portables, 2 gyms and classrooms. in total i think there are 10 buildings? how’s ur campus like?

do you have one big building or smth? in my middle school had stairs and. stairs aren’t fun i hate them. if people kissed on the stairs everybody would hate them bc they’re blocking the halls LOL. we have our legendary D wing bathrooms where people smoke its so funny how often i got offered a roll,,, people straight up vape in class its so funny. but yeah a porta party. disgusting 🤢 in my head that’s what i call it LOL, a portable bathroom… i hate when i see people from school or just. ppl in general, did they recognize u?

U SPELL FAVORITISM WITH A U THATS SO WEIRD FUCKING AMERICA but im lowkey spoiled (highkey) but i. don’t pick fights, its my brother who does that LOL, he gets lectured tho so,,, not my problem oops i have a lot of cousins but we split it when we were younger so its wrong but teens (now adults but still called teens), kids (now teens but still called kids), and the adult adult cousins (which is the only correct one LOL) but i fit into the kid category so,,,, also we have almost 20k im literally SCREAMING, including this we’re at 20,712 words im-

#ADA WE'RE THE WORST #KEEP READING AGAIN BC WE SUCK #queen ada 💞#mutuals #asks

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franeridart · 3 years

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Anon said: your i love your pencil-like sketches so much they’re so soft and cozy

Thank youuuuuuu they’re super relaxing to make so I’m glad you like them specifically!!

Anon said: whenever im crying i just look up your geto-sensei art and cry even more. it's a nice way to let it all out, so....thank you :D

It’s the Geto-sensei effect...........🙏🙏😭😭😭

Anon said: So you mentioned in one of your previous asks that your shipping krbk is in one of your asks you said that you ship krbk based on their canon relationship and you don’t really *feel* them as much because of that scene where Kiri was hanging with Todo instead of Baku and I totally understand how you feel BUT!!!!!!!!!!! consider this: after Todo went to visit his dad with the rest of his family, Mina Momo and Kiri are nowhere to be seen and where else would Kiri go except to visit his boyfriend?

Ah, but that would still be headcanon and not actual canon, wouldn’t it? 😂

Anon said: I usually struggle to pronounce things so I keep reading your url as "friend art" and I think that just makes my experience on your blog all the more fantastic.

That makes me happy to hear actually!!! I def hope my art comes off as friendly most of the times at the very least! :D

Anon said: that satosugu comic where Gojo broke his shades was so clever, man I wish I had your mind

GOSH that’s such a compliment, thank you so much!!!! ;A; my mind’s nothing special tho, I assure you haha

Anon said: i just found your blog and immediate follow i am obsessed OBSESSED you hear me!! so (i know im late) but i saw your tag that went along the lines of “i remember when getwo said gojo is considerate at the most awkward of times, thats my favorite character trait of him” and YES YES YES that line literally kept me up at night, imagining gojo getting random waves of intense empathy and your art just made me think further like what if its less “random”empathy and more when hes exposed to something that hits a nerve (usually the nerve involving geto). so like in your comic he suddenly feels for shoko and starts to harass utahime because it hits the part of him that knows how frustrating it is to long and pine over someone, and gojo our emotionally unaware king instead of fully facing his feelings about geto instead takes his annoyance and frustration out on poor utahime (also like you said he just likes pissing her off). same with him not getting rid of the body but also other little headcanons like as much as he likes to mess with his students, pre-shibuya he goes out of his way never interrupt nobamaki training sessions, even if its kinda important cus he understands how precious those fleeting moments are with your crush (he goes and harasses megumi instead who threatens to summon a dragon shikigami if he doesnt go away). Out of (seemingly) nowhere he throws a tantrum with the elders to get megumi and yujis dorm rooms next door, because he knows the comfort of having the people you care about close (you never know when they’ll be gone). anyway im rambling at this point but you get it :’)

Yes yes yes it’s such a sweet little thing about him I love it so much!!!! Gojo’s a very complex character isn’t he? Thinking about this kind of throwaway lines about him makes me love him even more, especially when they imply that there’s more to his feelings and way of processing them than his surface way of acting would let you believe ;;;;;

Anon said: the most hilarious panel to me is in chap 65 when yaga asks who forgot to put the curtain down and everyone points to gojo while hes like “sensei!! we are better than pointing fingers at each other!!” 😭😭 so now im imagining satosugu where sugurus like “who ate the rest of my soba? 🙃” and gojos like “you know, a huge part of loving someone is sharing all parts of yourself with them 🥰😘❤️” and suguru activates uzumaki // (anon who just sent the satosugu soba uzumaki headcanon) i also hope it didnt come off like a request it deff wasnt, i just wanted to share my headcanon 😭😭😭

No but why is he like thisssss 😂😂😂😂 I love him so much he’s so incredibly annoying in the most endearing way hahaha and yes absolutely Suguru has definitely been ready to throw serious hands with him on this kind of things way more often than his serious face would lead you to assume, they’re so dumb!!!!!!! They’re so dumb I love them 😂💕💕💕

Anon said: Hi, sorry if I got the wrong blog but I’m pretty sure you made a super cute bokuto/ kuroo/ terushima tattoo artist comic, but I couldn’t find it when I went through ur haikyuu tag, did it get deleted or something? sorry to bother if I’m wrong! thanks!

I did yes! You can find it here!!!

Anon said: The pure readability of your comics is outstanding! Every time you post something I click on your blog and end up scrolling to the bottom lol- every frickin post is a banger.

Anon what a compliment!!!!!!! Thank you so much this makes me so incredibly happy to hear!!!!!! ;A; 💕💕

Anon said: Hi hun! With MHA finally getting to the animation of the joint training arc, do you think we'll see some more Class 1-B boys? I love them drawn in your style and I'd love to see more if the inspiration so compels you! :3c

I wonder!!! What I feel like drawing is so incredibly random even to me that predicting this kind of things is impossible - maybe!! I’d very much like to, I just gotta find the right moment for it :D

Anon said: Sososo same records of ragnarok anon again I'm having?? Feelings?? About Jack the Ripper ?? Mainly internal yelling about how he's so clever and pretty but also. Confusion. Because like the fighters are meant to be the greatest fighters of humanity right?? And Jack just. Wasn't really a fighter?? Being a serial killer does not necessarily implies being able to fight and he didn't kill that much people everyone knows him because he was never caught but?? He wasn't really a fighter?? And I'm just confused as to why he was brought into that like it is just because he's a great criminal mystery?? I mean sure he won and all that but. Guy wasn't a fighter, he was just clever as fuck. (also I'm curious what colour do you think his eyes would be?)

AH he’s not the only fighter who isn’t an actual fighter on the side of humans!! Like Nostradamus, for example, anddddd Tesla! Tesla was in the list as well - but also Adam, I’d say! He was just some dude, nothing implies he’d be able to fight in his story - I think the author is using the words “greatest fighters” as a very general way of implying the greatest humans (in his mind, that is). I mean, I’d assume Buddha wouldn’t fight either, and yet here we are hahaha it’s fun tho, isn’t it!!! To try and figure out how they could ever fight, and then seeing it!!! Extremely amusing - also Jack has official colors!!! his eyes are one black and one red, you can see him in his full colored glory here! By the way have you seen Buddha’s official colors I’m still crying over them 😭😭😭😭 he’s so beautiful my heart can’t take him at all 😭💕💕💕

#fran answers #💕💕💕💕

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aion-rsa · 4 years

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Ted Lasso: Telling the Story of An American Optimist in London

https://ift.tt/2POKnMi

As the creator of Scrubs, Spin City, and Cougar Town, TV writer/producer Bill Lawrence is no stranger to “happy place” sitcoms. Yet Ted Lasso, his latest creation alongside Jason Sudeikis, sets a new bar for relentless optimism in TV comedy.

Ted Lasso is a fish-out-of-water story in which a fish decides he can do just fine on land too, thank you very much. Sudeikis stars as the titular American college football coach who takes on the challenge of managing a mid-tier English Premier League soccer team. The concept is based on a series of commercials that Sudeikis produced for NBC Sports to promote its EPL coverage. In the shorts, Ted Lasso is an overmatched football coach trying out his hand at a different kind of football where nobody uses their hands.

Now an Apple TV+ series, Ted Lasso has gone from a one-off joke on American ignorance to a 10-episode sports-movie-style series featuring a fully realized version of the titular coach. And the new Ted Lasso is a master motivator somewhere between Mr. Rogers and Gandhi.

We spoke to Lawrence about developing the show, his love of sports movies, and why television could use an optimistic and curious American abroad.

When you and Jason went about adapting this short into a bigger concept, what was your mindset? How did you think about turning him from more of a one-off joke into such a relentlessly optimistic full character?

All right, look, I have to give props to Jason. It’s annoying to be self-aggrandizing. But I was just chasing Jason Sudeikis because I think he’s an affable leading man and can be a romantic lead. He can be the kind of actor to build a streaming show around. I was just doing anything I can to get in business with him, and he pitched the idea of doing this character as a series. I knew the character from before and I initially had some hesitance, because I’m like, “Oh, it was really funny, but that’s a SNL sketch.” I love the show Police Squad, but they were only able to do 13 episodes of that Naked Gun police TV series because it’s the same sketch over and over. And Jason was like, “No man, I want to round this guy out and make him three-dimensional.”

We both connected over loving sports movies: Hoosiers, Rudy, Rocky, Major League, Bull Durham, Cutting Edge, whatever. Everybody’s got a sports movie that they dig on. And he said, “We can make ours. And how nice would it be, much like those classic underdog stories, to do a show right now that was kind of relentlessly optimistic and hopeful?” We still put in enough twists, I think, that even if people know the genre, know the tropes, it will surprise them a little bit and have more layers. But yeah, you do know that Ted Lasso is not going to end up dead in an alley at the end of season three.

Did Jason always see the character that way? Was there an element of wanting to subvert expectations of the grizzled, always yelling, American football coach?

I will tell you that he had a very clear picture of who this guy was. Every writer sits around coming up with ways to procrastinate. So we had tons of time-wasting talks about subtext and stuff that are never specifically in the show. (Jason) said he was very aware of what he was doing in those promotional videos. Though they’re really funny, he was ultimately selling the Premier League. But he also knew there was an opportunity for more because he’ll tell anybody that listens that he got recognized more as Ted Lasso when he went overseas than for any movie, SNL, or anything else he ever did.

Ted Lasso Review (Spoiler-Free)

By Nick Harley

And for the subtext I was talking about – here’s a way too deep metaphor. I worked in Europe on a show called Whiskey Cavalier. We worked in London and Prague, and the perception and joke about what Americans are right now is not that flattering and not that surprising. We wanted to kind of subvert that image a little bit. Right now, in public discourse, whether it be in politics or on social media, the ignorance with the quintessential American abroad is always coupled with arrogance. So Jason said you could do Ted Lasso if his ignorance was coupled with curiosity instead of arrogance. He’s self-deprecating and quick to learn. When you do that, he can still be a little bit of a goof once in awhile. The show works because he’s also, we like to say, “dumb, like a fox.” He’s very crafty about human nature and about getting the best out of people.

You’ve mentioned your appreciation for sports movies a couple times now. Given how it’s such well-trodden territory at this point, how hard is it to come up with novel storylines or game action in sports stories?

Well, I’ll tell you, there are two things you have to do. One is, if you start from a place of “we’re going to tell a sports movie story that hasn’t been told before,” then you’re doomed. Because there’s no way anybody’s seen them all. I’m not afraid of tropes, especially if you get to do the trick that people think they know what’s going to happen because they know the genre and then you get to surprise them. That’s part one of what we did, I think, in some cases.

Then part two is, when you’re talking about a sports movie, they’re limited by what is ultimately 90-minute running time, give or take. When you do a streaming show, you get to round out those characters. So even if you have what seems like a quintessential villain in Major League-style in the opening of a pilot, it’s understandable that in a movie, that’s all that character really has time for. In a series, especially one that Jason allowed to be an ensemble, you can show other levels to that character, maybe even make them sympathetic, maybe even given the type of crossroads where they decide which way they’re going to go, and tweak the convention a little bit in ways that you’re only able to because you have 10 episodes to tell the story.

I’m glad you brought up the ensemble as well because, for starters, it’s an excellent cast. But I think the show must have faced a sort of storytelling and casting challenge, in that it’s set in a professional soccer league, which is obviously a male-dominated environment. How did you go about finding ways to introduce women characters into this world and develop them?

We had two things that we were really keen on, and one is that the best sports movies seem to transcend not only gender, but whether or not you love the sport. I don’t think I’ve ever gone out of my way to watch a professional boxing match. And yet, I can tell you the ups and downs of every Rocky movie. We wanted to do the same thing with soccer (or what they call football).

Beyond that, we knew we had to have two female leads on the show who didn’t exist only as ciphers, villains, or people that pay lip service to the player leads or whatever. We have a great writing staff, and one of the things I really dig is not only exploring Hannah Waddingham and Juno Temple’s characters, but kind of developing a real female friendship in a place doesn’t exist at the start of the series. It’s one of the best things about this, and it’s one of those things on the show that I wish I could take credit for, but I cannot, because it was written by the group.

How much did you know about the European soccer scene going in? What did you have to learn and ultimately take away from the experience?

I knew less than Ted Lasso. One of the jokes in the writers room was that when I was 11, I was on the state championship soccer team in Ridgefield, Connecticut. We won the state championship, but I was a goalie. And I was still not really clear on all the rules, so I was knocked off. In the writing staff, we hired Brits and soccer aficionados on the staff, not only for the fish-out-of-water stuff, but to actually know the sport.

We went out to a bunch of games (in England), and we got to use a real Premier League team’s (Crystal Palace F.C.) facilities for the games and stuff. And the passion level for their local team, I’ve only seen it rivaled here in some of the really psychotic college football programs that people live and die for. I’m used to being a huge sports fan, but even the craziest sports fan here pales next to some of these communities that live and die with their team, not only in sports, but socially at the pubs. The ups and downs of an entire community ride around their team. It was really cool to see, and it felt both like an opportunity and an obligation to service it on our show.

Why did you choose Wichita State’s defunct football program as Ted Lasso’s launching point? Was it just kind of to honor Jason’s Kansas ties? Did you have to clear that with the university at all?

Yep. 100%. I know Jason is basing the accent on a former coach of his, and I know that he’s got giant ties back to Kansas City. He still does a charity called The Big Slick, that all runs through there. He wanted this dude to be a small college football coach, and we needed to find one that didn’t have a football program so that we could do it and not be in any kind of weird legal issues with representing players or actual coaches. Wichita State was cool and let us clear it and let us use their jerseys, but Jason was a driving force.

And when I say he’s a driving force for all these connections to his home, the amount of times on set that I would realize he was wearing a BBQ shirt or a specific shirt in reference to that part of the country that we hadn’t cleared… We had to go, “Oh, that’s a real place, dude. We’re going to need to hold on for a second and make sure they’re cool with you essentially promoting that.” And they always were, but yes, he was the driving force behind it.

To that end as well, how did you guys come up with AFC Richmond and all of its colors, iconography, and uniforms? Because if I could choose one job in the world to do, there’s nothing I would rather do more than create the style guide for a whole new sporting franchise.

We really geeked out, and I’ll tell you how. We knew we were going to invent a team, because even though the promotional stuff was done with Tottenham Hotspur, the second you’re dealing with a real team, you have issues of license and how you’re representing actual players. So we had to make one up. We fell in love with the area of Richmond as a place to shoot. That green you see in the town – all that is a beautiful suburban area. It’s just a great neighborhood-y place. Right now, that area was known mostly as kind of a rugby town and didn’t have their own football clubs. So we knew we could put one there without getting caught up in the, “Oh, B.S. There’s already a team there!”

Then we delved way too deeply into research to find out that greyhounds are big in the community of Richmond and their historical background. Then we nerded out trying different outfits, different color patterns, and then Jason even came up with pitching the fake sponsors on the jerseys. The other thing was partially knowing that the danger of doing any type of a sports movie type of thing is if you blow it and it looks really fake, whether it’s the sport, or the action scenes, or the gear, or where they work or anything, that’s the second you lose that kind of authenticity and the show doesn’t work.

If Apple makes any AFC Richmond scarves available online, I’ll absolutely buy some.

Oh, dude. I’m going to gear up.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity. The first three episodes of Ted Lasso are available to stream on Apple TV+ now.

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