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calliecat93 · 4 years

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Callie’s Disney Princess Retrospective: Cinderella

(Snow White Review)

The year was 1950, 13 years after Snow White’s release. Despite that film’s mass success, Walt Disney’s next feature films during the 1940’s such as Pinocchio, Fantasia, and Bambi would all bomb. His only true success at the time was Dumbo, and that film was dampened by a mass strike during production that saw many animators walk out. It didn’t get any better when America entered World War II and the military took over many different animation studios, including Disney. They not only had to produce propaganda shorts but due to the limited funds, they were forced to rely on Package Films and live-action to survive. As the 1950s began to dawn, it was clear to Walt that if he wanted to stay in business, he needed another hit. But not just any hit, he needed the same kind of success that Snow White brought him. But what film could give him that success?

For that, he returned to fairy tales, and he found one. A story that he could relate to as a Missouri-born boy who began with nothing. A tale that could appeal to just about anyone. A true rags to riches story of one down-on-her-luck girl having all of her dreams come true. That film would be Walt Disney’s twelfth animated feature, his second fairy tale-based film, and of course the creation of the second Disney Princess who quickly became one of the most famous. Thus, let us discuss the 1950 film, Cinderella.

Overview

Since a young child, Cinderella has been in servitude by her cruel stepmother Lady Tremaine. She is regularly mistreated and worked to the bone by both Tremaine and her nasty stepsisters Drizella and Anastasia. Despite this, Cinderella keeps a cheerful and hopeful demeanor, caring for her mouse friends and hoping that someday the dream that she has wished for will come true. A day that seems to have arrived when the family gets an invitation to a ball held to find a suitor for The Prince. With all eligible maidens asked to attend, Cinderella believes that her chance has arrived, but Lady Tremaine has other plans.

Just as it looks like all of her hopes have been shattered, Cinderella’s kindness and hard-work are rewarded by her Fairy Godmother giving her what she needs to attend the ball. She has a lovely time but is forced to flee at midnight with only a lone glass slipper to remind her of that night. But the ended up charming the Prince and left the other slipper behind, so now the girl who fits the slipper will be made the prince’s bride. Once more, Tremaine tries to prevent Cinderella from succeeding. But with the help of her animal friends and her own hope, Cinderella’s dreams will at long last come true.

Review

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As a little girl, there were many films that I would watch over and over again, such as The Aristocats or The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh. But I think that Cinderella was the one that I would play back the most. I remember every single part of this movie. The music, the story, the characters, just everything. And even after all of these years, my feelings and love for the film haven’t changed. If anything, it’s only grown. I still remember when my family went to Walt Disney World, and aside from Mickey Mouse the only thing that I cared about was meeting Cinderella. I did so on the last day in the Magic Kingdom, and she was so kind and beautiful and was everything I ever dreamed of. It is a moment that I will never forget.

Looking at the film itself, it’s clear that it took a lot from Snow White. A fairy tale-inspired movie, a heroine in servitude who charms all around her, an evil stepmother, a handsome prince, animal companions, you name it. I don’t think that it was accidental either. As I said, Walt /needed/ another Snow White success story. He needed to replicate what made that film work and make it better. Which he did. While the two films are similar, it’s arguable that Cinderella improved on many of those elements. While we only really get told that Snow was a servant and only see it briefly at the start, we see Cinderella’s suffering throughout the film. While Snow could look a little off due to the animators still getting used to animating realistic humans, Cinderella looks realistic, moves more fluidly, and fits the style of the film much better. While The Queen never interacted with Snow until the end and therefore never see how she treats her, we see Lady Tremaine’s cruelty towards her stepdaughter in full force and it’s equally as chilling. It truly feels like Walt looked over Snow White, saw what could be improved on, and did so with Cinderella. It really shows how far the company had come since 1937.

But Walt wasn’t the only important person on the film. In fact, he was less involved than he was with Snow White since he was focusing more on live-action and developing Disneyland. This was the film that established Disney’s most talented and loyal animators, his Nine Old Men. These men not only worked on the first five features and the Package Films, but they would go on to work on every film up to The Fox and the Hound and some even went into Imagineering. These would be the men who not only pulled the company back onto its feet after WW2, but they would teach future Disney animators/directors such as Glen Keane, Jon Musker, Rob Clements, Andreas Deja, Brad Bird, and so many others who would continue their legacy. Cinderella herself was done primarily by Marc Davis, Eric Larson, and Les Clark.

Like Snow White, the story is pretty straight-forward. It seems to be based mainly on the version written by Charles Perrault and some of the Grimm Brothers version. It does some expansion, like showing what Cindy’s daily life is like. Having her dress get ripped apart, her getting locked up, and of course, giving an expanded role to the mice. Otherwise though like with Snow White, it’s one of the more faithful adaptations minus a few things. For example, if we go off the Grimm version, the stepsisters don’t mutilate themselves to fit into the slipper… and I don’t have an issue with that either. It can feel a little dragged out, like IDK how necessary the King and Grand Duke scenes were aside from establishing certain things like the ball and the slipper search, but it’s nothing that brings anything to a halt.

The animation is gorgeous. The Nine Old Men weren’t chosen out of random, after all. This film really shows off their talents. Characters like Jaq and Gus, Lucifer, and the Stepsisters are very lively and entertaining to watch. Ward Kimball, who was the main animator for Lucifer the Cat, used his own cat as a reference after Walt pointed it out to him, and you can tell that he was having fun with it. The more realistic characters like Cinderella and Lady Tremaine look and move very well despite the challenge the animators had keeping that realism up. I’d say that their work paid off though. Lady Tremaine especially has some of the most chilling, frightening expressions of any Disney Villain. Frank Thomas did a masterful job making her cold demeanor reach through the screen and to the audience. The art itself looks beautiful and we can thank artist Mary Blair for it as she did the concept art for the film. The use of colors and shadows were done very well. It’s just the right amount of brightness when necessary, and the right amount of darkness when necessary. It hits the mark perfectly.

Then there’s the sound and the music. On the latest rewatch, I noticed how they use music for characters a lot. Take the sequence where Jaq has to distract Lucifer in the first act for example. When he’s crawling across the wall, getting ready to get at Lucifer and kick him into his own milk bowl. They use strings for his movements as well as for strings, like the other mice shutting up Gus when he laughs. It’s nothing new for Disney, after all, it was doing this in Steamboat Willie that launched the company into fame. But it always adds so much even if you don’t realize it. The score uses a lot of strings and horns, knowing when to sound triumphant and when to be subdued. It’s a very good score.

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Cinderella’s soundtrack was the first to be done by the newly established Walt Disney Records, allowing the company to gain profit for their own music. The vocal tracks have two classics worth mentioning. The first is Bippidi-Boppidi-Boo, the Fairy Godmother’s song. It’s a super fun, whimsical song and even though I still struggle to get the words right, it really fits the Fairy Godmother’s nature and is just so darn catchy! The other is of course the theme of the film, Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes. There are several variations of the song throughout the film, but of course, the first time done by Ilene Woods (I’ll talk about her more when I do Cinderella’s character in-depth) is the one we remember most. It’s beautiful, hopeful, and was one of my favorite songs as a little kid. I used to annoy people with how much I would try to sing it, haha. It really tries to convince you that your dreams CAN come true, and by golly did I believe it when I was a kid… and deep down I still do, I supposed. Point is, it’s a lovely song~

What about the characters though? Well, let us have a looksie.

As with Snow White, there are many animals, though this time it’s mainly mice and birds. The mice are the main ones, as well as the only ones who can talk. There are other animals like the birds, a horse, and of course Bruno the Dog. But the main animals to discuss are Lucifer the Cat and the du of Jaq and Gus. Lucifer is a cat, so as expected he chases the mice. But it’s clearly not just due to instinct. It’s shown throughout the movie that he seems to take sadistic glee in chasing after them, especially Gus which is especially clear in the final act. But he also enjoys tormenting Cinderella, such as messing up the floor when she’s wiping it down during the Sweet Nightingale sequence and trapping Gus with the key in part to keep her locked up. He also enjoyed getting Bruno into trouble at the start of the film, which ends up being his downfall at the end. He seems genuinely cruel which...I mean with a name like Lucifer, is it a surprise that he’s a little devil? He has some great expressions thanks to Ward Kimball and was a fun challenge for our favorite mice.

Speaking of, Jaq and Gus serve as comedic relief and the unofficial heroes of the film when you really think about it. They drive many of the events forward such as making Cinderella’s dress and retrieving the key from Lady Tremaine. Jaq is the unofficial leader of the mice and the most talkative by far. He’s charismatic and crafty, usually unafraid (for the most part) of going up against Lucifer or from helping Cinderella whom he cares greatly for. We don’t know how long he’s known Cinderella, but he’s the one who assures Gus that she’s a nice person. Gus the newbie of the mice and a little dim-witted, but well-meaning. Due to being new, he ends up getting into several incidents like nearly being caught by Lucifer several times. Jaq and Gus make a fun duo and I always enjoyed seeing what the two would get themselves into. Also for added fun, both mice were voiced by Jimmy MacDonald (nowadays they’re played by Rob Paulsen and Corey Burton respectively). Jimmy was not only the main sound effects man for the studio but at the time he was also the voice of Mickey Mouse himself. Guess he’s a natural fit for mice, huh?

Next, we’ll go to the royals. Sadly, like with Snow White, the prince is more or less a plot device. I guess they were still having a tough time with realistic male characters. He’s a handsome young man, but sadly that’s all there really is. He doesn’t even get a name, being dubbed as Prince Charming in most material and IDK if that’s really official. They DID plan on giving the Prince more of a role, such a planned sequence with him hunting a deer but it turned out it was play hunting, but this never happened. He doesn’t even go looking for his mystery girl in the end, the Grand Duke does which is pretty disappointing. It’s a shame too since going off the King’s dialogue about how he’s been evading mariage he could have been like the male version of Jasmine. A royal who’s being pushed to get married, even though he wants to find true love on his own time and just have some freedom. They did do a bit more with him in Cinderella III: A Twist in Time. They also did more with him in the live-action remake, expanding his and Cinderella’s relationship and giving him an actual name (Kit). But we’re focusing on the original, and it’s sad that he didn’t get more to him.

The King and Grand Duke are also comedic relief and overall pretty good ones. The King is loud, blusterous, and quick to anger. He’s not a bad man, after all the only reason he wants his son to get hitched is because he feels lonely and wants grandchildren. It’s kind of cute when you think about it, even if unfair to his own son. He can be very friendly, but as I said quickly to anger. After all, when the mystery girl got away, he outright attempted to /behead/ the Grand Duke until he told him about the slipper. In comparison, the Grand Duke is more timid, but quite sarcastic as well. Very much the straight man to the King’s blusterous personality. While very much afraid of the king (though not unwilling to backtalk him), up against anyone else he takes no crap from anyone. Just watch him as he tries to endure the Tremaines, it’s amazing how absolutely done he is with all of them, and he wins points for shutting up Lady Tremaine when Cinderella makes her way downstairs. A good man!

The Fairy Godmother is only in the film briefly, but she leaves a major impact. She is the first decent person to Cinderella in a long, /long/ time. She is very grandmotherly in her design, voice, and demeanor. She’s a little forgetful and scatterbrained, as she forgot where her wand was and it takes a good while for her to notice Cindy’s torn up dress. But she is a kindly old woman who was summoned by the hope remaining in Cinderella’s heart. She came at the girl’s darkest hour and gave her the one night that she had always dreamed of. She is voiced by Verna Felton, who was a pretty regular VA for Disney at the time. Though she often did much harsher characters such as The Matriarch in Dumbo and the Queen of Hearts in Alice in Wonderland. But she perfectly portrays the Godmother’s kindly grandmother persona. Her modern VA was Disney Legend Russi Taylor, who also took over Drizella, who sadly passed away last year. It is unknown who will do the Godmother in the future, but I have no doubt that she will emerge again one day

We now come to the Tremaines. First, the daughters. Drizella and Anastasia are ugly, loud, snooty, and mean to both Cinderella and each other. They argue frequently, outright hitting each other during their… ugh… we’ll call it a music lesson. They’re spoiled in the worst way, never being happy with what they have yet get angry if Cinderella dares wear the things that they outright discarded as trash. It’s clear that their mother raised them to be as horrid as her, though they’re nowhere near as calculating. She pretty much raised them to be her attack dogs against Cinderella as well as to use them to marry off and move up in the world. Their obnoxiousness is their only real character trait, though their character animation via Ollie Johnston is quite fun to watch. Anastasia would gain more depth in the two direct-to-video sequels at the very least, more or less also getting a redemption arc. She was also voiced previously by Lucille Bliss, who played the teacher in Invader Zim, and is now voiced by the legendary Tress Macneille.

Then there is Lady Tremaine. Ho boy, Lady Tremaine. If I had the time, I could do an entire essay on this woman alone. She is one of the most chilling, yet memorable Disney Villains despite being nothing but an old woman. Why? First, her voice. In the film, she is voiced by Eleanor Audley, which remember that name cause it’s gonna come back later in this series. She is able to keep the perfect balance of calm and methodical, yet sharp when necessary. Perfectly in control. Actually, that’s a great way to describe Lady Tremaine, in control. She knows what she wants and is willing to go to any length to get it. She carries herself with confidence and regality, very rarely losing her cool. She’s calculative and methodical and you never quite know what she’s going to do until she does it. But most of all, she is cruel and petty, especially towards Cinderella.

Unlike her obnoxious daughters, Tremaine’s abuse towards Cinderella is calm and subdued, preferring to use emotional abuse and manipulation. She has brow-beaten the poor girl so bad that she becomes obedient as soon as the old woman speaks up. Tremaine is jealous of Cinderella’s beauty and therefore tries to make the girl’s life as difficult as possible. She enjoys mistreating and controlling Cinderella, wearing a cold smirk any time that she ramps up the cruelty. Probably her cruelest act in the film is manipulating her own daughters into ripping Cinderella’s dress right off of her after she managed to get it on for the ball. Despite having agreed to let Cindy go to the ball if she got her work done, she ruined her chances anyway just because she could. She’s not only horrible to her stepdaughter but even to her own daughters with how they ultimately turned out and clearly only interested in marrying them off

What makes Tremaine scary though is because… well, compare her to The Queen/Hag and later villainess Maleficent. In the real world, you’re not likely to encounter an evil queen who uses witchcraft and turn herself into an old hag just to poison you. In the real world, you’re unlikely to encounter an evil fairy witch who can curse you to die and transform into a ferocious dragon. But running into a cruel, petty old woman who will abuse you due to jealousy and for her own enjoyment? Oh yes, that can and does happen. Lady Tremaine is real. She is a perfect depiction of an abusive stepparent. Plus as I said before, Frank Thomas did an excellent job depicting her expressions as utterly chilling. I was afraid of her as a child, and I still am now. Even at the end after her daughters failed to get on the slipper, she breaks it just to keep Cinderella from achieving a life of happiness out of pure spite. On the upside, seeing her plans all fall apart and especially her face when Cinderella reveals the other slipper is deliciously satisfying. One of the greatest all-time Disney moments.

Well, that was a lot more than I thought. But with all of that out of the way, there’s only one more character to discuss. Strap yourself in folks, because I have been waiting /years/ for this.

Cinderella Analysis

As I said above, Cinderella was one of my favorite princesses as a child. She was beautiful, had an amazing singing voice, was kind, and I wanted to have my dreams come true just as she did. She is one of the most famous Disney characters by far. I remember her pretty much being the face of the Disney Princess line when I was a kid. Nowadays I’d argue that Rapunzel is more of the face (or if we wanna count Frozen, Elsa is) but that doesn’t mean that Cindy has faded out of the public eye. After all, it is her castle that stands as the main landmark at Walt Disney World’s Magic Kingdom. That alone will ensure that she never fades out of popular consciousness.

In return, however, Cinderella is probably the most criticized princess of the Classic Three. It’s mostly for the same reasons as those two. She was a damsel-in-distress. She was domestic and passive. She got together with a man at first sight. She needed others to save her. It’s all the same thing you hear about pre-The Little Mermaid, but since Cinderella is probably the most well-known, she’s the one who gets it levied against her the most. As I said in Snow White, there is some truth about this portrayal furthering the depiction of women as domestic/passive in film. But it truly baffles me as to why Cinderella is the one who gets this criticism the most. It really, really baffles me. I can somewhat get it with Snow White and I can get it with Aurora, but Cinderella? Ugh… no. Just… no.

First of all, let’s get this part out of the way. Cinderella is an abuse victim. I think that Cinderella is meant to be about 19 years old in the film. While we don’t know how old she was exactly when her father died, we see in the opening narration that she was still a child. A child. Let’s say that she was around nine years old. That would mean that she has been under Lady Tremaine’s thumb for ten years. A full decade. If you are under abuse for that long at any age, but especially ever since a child, then that is going to affect you. So Cinderella being passive? Yeah, that’s likely in part because of the abuse that she went through. She was conditioned to not fight back, or if she did she would pay the consequences. As great as imagining standing up and fighting against your abuser is, it is unfortunately very rarely that simple especially when you are under years of psychological conditioning like Cinderella was.

But it is also unfair to say that Cinderella is blindly obedient and broken either. She isn’t. Cinderella is introduced as kind, cheerful, and playful when she teases her bird friends and gets ready for the day. Cinderella is a kind young woman, facing every day with a smile despite her treatment. The girl lives in an attic, yet she happily sings as she gets her day started. Cinderella’s defining trait is that she is a dreamer. As she herself says in the opening, her dreams are something that no one can control. Not her step-family. Not the clock telling her that it’s time to get on with a new day. In her dreams, she is able to do whatever she wants. It is her escape. The one thing that gets her through the day, hoping that one day the dreams that she wishes in her heart will come true.

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This is what fuels Cinderella ahead. It is what allows her to remain kind. It is what allows her to be sympathetic to others. What shows this most is her treatment of the mice. She treats them as her friends, making them clothing, feeds them, and frees them from traps. This is important for what happens later, but we’ll get to that later. She is also kind to the other animals, such as the horse and to her dog Bruno. In fact, it’s pretty interesting when she scolds Bruno for wanting to chase Lucifer. She tells him that it’s bad, how he’ll lose his warm bed, and quote “you know the orders”. She expects Bruno to obey the same way that she must obey. Doing so otherwise will mean consequences such as losing one’s own bed. The only animal that Cinderella doesn’t get along with is Lucifer, who is also the only character she is willing to speak against. At one point she was even willing to smack him with her broom when he ruined the floor she just finished scrubbing. It makes sense since Lucifer not only goes out of his way to make things more difficult for her, but he can’t order her around or really do anything to her as Lady Tremaine can. So in a way, it’s one thing that she has some power over.

Still, the first act shows what Cinderella’s life is like. It doesn’t seem too bad at first glance. She seems happy and treats her morning more like an annoyance than anything. But once we meet the Tremaines, it becomes clear just how bad it is. Anastasia immediately accuses Cindy of planting a mouse under her cup on purpose and Cinderella gets no chance to defend herself, though she is able to make Lucifer free Gus. She’s then summoned into Lady Tremaine’s room, clearly uneasy. Whenever she tries to explain herself, Lady Tremaine snaps back at her, making her go silent. There is no arguing. Lady Tremaine likely knows that Cinderella did nothing wrong, but doesn’t care. Whatever makes the girl miserable works for her and gives her an excuse to pile on that misery. Thus she piles on the workload, even making Cinderella do things that she already did once over again. Cinderella is unable to do anything but listen to the commands.

Everything changes, however, when the invitation to the ball arrives. Now we go back to one of the criticisms against Cinderella. Many accuse her of only going to the ball to meet the prince and get married. Now I will go more into this later, but there’s a reason why I am bringing it up now. Cinderella never at any point time from this point until the search for the mystery girl starts, even so much as mentions the prince. The ones who want to go to get married are the Tremaines. The whole reason that they go is because of the royal command for every eligible maiden to attend. Lady Tremaine wants to marry off her daughters. The sisters obviously want to get hitched to a good-looking man of power like the prince. Cinderella though? She just wants to go to a fancy ball because she can. By royal command every maiden is to attend no matter their status, so a lowly servant girl like herself is allowed. She even points this out to her step-family in one of the few cases she does stand up to them. Not by getting angry or defensive, she just outright points out the fine print. But no, nothing about getting with a guy ever comes up until much, much later.

Lady Tremaine agrees that Cinderella can go if gets her work done and finds a dress. But she uses the first part of that deal to bombard Cinderella with orders to make her unable to accomplish the second half. Cinderella has the dress picked, one of her mother’s, but she has no time to mend it up. As Jaq points out to the other mice, the Tremaines are going to make her do everything to make her unable to get her dress. But this is where Cinderella’s previous kindness kicks in. It’s clear that the mice really care for her because of how she cares for them. As such, they decide to fix up the dress for her. Jaq and Gus outright risk their lives against Lucifer to get some discarded trimmings.

Sure Cindy ultimately didn’t mend the dress herself, but it shows how her kindness came back to reward her. Just look at how downcast she is when the carriage arrives. She realized far too late that her step-family was never going to give her the chance to go to the ball. She is saddened as she returns to her attic-dwelling, looking out at the castle from the window and trying to convince herself that the ball would have been boring anyway. It fails. She is standing in darkness until the room lights up via candlelight and the mice reveal the mended dress to her. You can just hear the glee and gratitude in her voice as she swings around the dress and is at a loss of words before thanking her friends. Her kindness was rewarded… but sadly, not for long.

We now come to what is by far the darkest scene in the movie. Cinderella comes down to the door, shocking her stepfamily that she actually got a dress. At first, Cinderella is elated that she can actually go… until Lady Tremaine begins to approach. The old woman doesn’t seem to be doing anything wrong, agreeing that Cindy kept her end of the deal and even compliments the dress. But then she points out the beads to Drizella, who previously discarded them. It provokes her and Anastasia into a bitter, angry frenzy. They outright rip the dress apart while Cinderella is still in it. It is disturbing, Cinderella unable to do anything as her dreams are literally ripped away from her bit by bit. By the end, Tremaine calmly calls her daughters away and bids Cinderella a good night, leaving the girl standing in a pile of rags.

This is the final straw for Cinderella. She runs out to the back garden and breaks down. After trying so hard for so long to keep her hopes up, she can’t. All that she wanted was to go to the ball. Not to get married, just to have one night where she could have a good time. That was it. But her stepfamily just couldn’t allow for even that and tore it all away from her. Can you blame her for crying after all that? After dealing with that kind of treatment since she was a little girl? I can’t blame her. Her friends can only watch in sympathy and sadness as she says that there’s no use in dreaming and that she can’t dream anymore. She has hit her breaking point, a far cry from the hopeful young dreamer she was at the start of the film.

But not all is lost. In her despair, Cinderella’s Fairy Godmother is summoned. So a big question I’ve seen some ask is how the Fairy Godmother was summoned to begin with? Well, it’s as she herself said, she couldn’t be there if Cinderella didn’t have hope in her heart still. She is essentially a manifestation of Cinderella’s hopes and dreams. If I had to guess with Cinderella reaching her breaking point and ready to give in to despair, the Fairy Godmother manifested because she now truly needed help. It was to restore her hopes and allow her to get to the ball after the chance was so cruelly ripped away from her. I know what some are going to say, once again Cinderella got something handed to her. But this is a case where Cinderella herself more or less summoned the one who would help her. Her kindness caused the mice to help her, now her hope summoned up her Fairy Godmother to help her. It’s not happening just because.

So The Fairy Godmother creates her carriage, makes her new dress, and gives her the glass slippers. But like all dreams, this can’t last forever. She has until midnight, after which the spell will be broken. Which is perfectly fine with Cinderella, she’s just grateful for what her Fairy Godmother has done for her. Seeing her smiling and hopeful again after the previous moment and her just receiving some motherly kindness from someone is just really nice to see. Thus, she is whisked away to the ball, and almost as quickly as she arrives, she catches the eye of The Prince himself. While Drizella and Anastasia are trying to get him to look at them, funny enough.

So let’s get back to the ‘Cindy only wanted a man!’ critique. As I already said, she never mentions a man until near the end. But here at the ball, it’s not even her who goes to The Prince. Heck later when midnight hits, it’s pretty clear that she didn’t even know that the guy she was dancing with was The Prince. No, it is Prince Charming who approaches her. We outright see him look up, notice her as she enters, and is stricken by her beauty. It is him who walks to her and presents himself to her, a major contrast to how all the other girls were going up to him with him clearly bored. So no, Cinderella never wanted to get a man. It all happened purely by chance, and again she didn’t even realize that he was The Prince until after the ball was long over.

Cinderella dances with the prince throughout the night, getting so caught up that she loses track of time until the clock goes off. Once again, the clock is telling her that it’s time to wake up from her dream. She flees, but loses one of her slippers along the way. Midway on the road home, the spell is broken and she is once more in her torn-up dress. She apologizes to her animal friends for losing track of time, but happily recalls the night. But the mice then point something out to her: her glass slipper is still on her foot. Now… why is that? Well what summoned the Fairy Godmother to begin with? Hope. It is my opinion that this is why the slippers didn’t disappear as well. Cindy’s hope kept them manifested, to the point that I don’t believe that her losing one happened by chance. It is the key to her having a chance at a better life. It slippped off her foot due to that, and the other one remained for the same reason. Cindy seems to think it’s the Fary Godmother’s doing as she thanks her, but the truth is it is herself who caused both of those.

Thus, we come to the next day. The Grand Duke is looking for the mystery girl, and Tremaine is ready to leap at the chance. At first, Cinderella is pretty much ready to resume her regular life now that she’s gotten the one night that she had wanted. But as Tremaine explains the new development to her daughters, Cinderella hears it. This is when she realizes that it was The Prince that she was dancing with. That it was her slipper that was found, which means that she’s the mystery girl. Which means that she’s the one who can fit it and thus she will become The Prince's bride. This is the point that she wanted to get married to a man. In the final fifteen or so minutes. But look as to why she wants to. This will absolutely ensure that she is able to have a better life than she has now, so can we blame her for being happy?

Cinderella is so elated that she outright ignores her stepsisters demands and starts to day-dreamingly go to her room to prepare for the Grand Duke’s arrival. But this turns out to be a mistake. Because of her elation, Lady Tremaine immediately puts the pieces together. Cinderella not only managed to defy her and go to the ball, but she is now in the way of her plans to marry her daughters off. If she is there when the Grand Duke arrives, then that’ll be it. She’ll fit the slipper, be taken to the palace, and will marry The Prince not long after. That is something that Lady Tremaine simply cannot allow. Not to mention that she can’t allow the girl to go unpunished for her defiance. Thus, she locks Cinderella in her room. To both keep her out of the way and to make sure that she can never leave.

So… it looks like that’s it. There is nothing that Cinderella can do at this point. She realizes that she’s once more going to be trapped in a cruel life and begs Tremaine to let her out before just breaking down. She had her chance once more, and once more her stepmother took it away. But once more, Jaq and Gus act to help their friend and manage to get the key. But of course Lucifer interferes, trapping both Gus and the key and Cinderella is now in a position where she can’t make him stop. All of her animal friends try to help, but it proves futile. That is, until Cinderella has a realization. There is someone who can chase off Lucifer. The same someone that she previously scolded because it would be going against orders; Bruno the Dog.

Remember when I pointed out how Cinderella got after Bruno dreaming of chasing Lucifer because he’d lose his home otherwise? Yeah, it comes back around here. She’s now close to getting out of her situation, so why not allow Bruno the same thing? She has her bird friends alert Bruno, and indeed the dog rushes in and causes the evil cat to jump from the window. I think it was supposed to be implied that this killed Lucifer, but we see in the later sequels that he survived. But with him out of the way, the mice slip Cinderella the key and she is able to get out and to the stairs just as the Grand Duke is beginning to walk out. And he’s clearly glad to see her to, outright making his way past Lady Tremaine and reminding her that he’s supposed to give every maiden a chance when she tries to ward him away,

But, of course, Tremaine can’t just accept defeat. She trips the earl and the slipper is shattered. It looks like once again, Cinderella’s hopes have been for naught. But this time, she doesn't cry. She doesn’t even get sad. Why? Simple, because it wasn’t for naught. She pulls out the other slipper, proving beyond doubt that she is the mystery girl. It was her hope that created the slippers. It was her hope that kept them manifested when the spell was broken. Now it is her hope that gave her the key to at long last break free from her stepfamily for good. She gets married to The Prince (we don’t know how long after, so there is a window open for those who want to get after her for marrying a guy she just met) and is whisked away to a better life. The wish that she made at last came true.

Cinderella is defined by hope, kindness, and dreams. It is these things that fuel her to continue on with her life. It is these things that allow her to remain a good person and not be broken by her stepmother’s attempts to humiliate and demean her. Even at her lowest moment, her hope couldn’t be truly broken. Sure in real life you’re not going to be able to magically summon a Fairy Godmother or be married into royalty because of a shoe. But this is NOT real life. This is a fairy tale. It is escapism. It doesn't have to adhere to reality exactly. Plus even then, there is something to be said about not giving up hope and remaining kind in the face of adversity. It is that lesson that I have carried with me since I was a child, to remain kind no matter what. I’ve had my own breakdowns, especially since it’s still 2020 at the time of this writing. But even so, I’ve tried to remain kind. Because Cinderella taught me to do so.

It is why I have never understood the hate against her, and never will. I love the modern princesses and yes, they did need to become more proactive and strong. But this does NOT make the first three bad. Especially not Cinderella. She is an abuse survivor. She is a dreamer. She is a young woman who only wanted to have some happiness in her life. Her kindness and hope was eventually rewarded, and in a way was granted to her by herself. The mice helped her with both her first dress and to escape the attic because she was kind to them. Bruno and the animals liked her because she was kind to them, so they repaid her. The Fairy Godmother manifested because Cinderella wanted to give up, but hope still remained in her heart and gave her the help she desperately needed. The glass slippers remained because of her hope, and became the keys to her achieving a better life. Sure she didn’t have to physically fight for it, but it doesn't change the fact that things happened, that others helped her because she was kind and hopeful. Because of herself.

The last thing to note is her voice actress, Ilene Woods. She was originally hired to do the singing for Cinderella, but after Walt heard her he cast her to also do the speaking lines. She did a beautiful job. She conveys Cinderella’s grace, kindness, and hopeful nature absolutely beautifully and her singing voice is outright angelic. Do you want to know a sad, yet beautiful story? Well at the end of her life, Ilene Woods had sadly been inflicted with Alzheimer. I think we all know how devastating that disease is. She was living in a nursing home, unable to recall anything. Reportedly, the nurses would often play A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes for her. Even though Ilene couldn’t recognize that it was herself singing, it was the one thing that could make her happy all the way up to her passing in 2010. Mind you that story is from Wikipedia /TV Tropes and I haven’t been able to find an actual source saying this, but I’ve never seen anyone contest if this was true. Either way, Ilene was and will always be the Cinderella, a legacy that the current actress Jennifer Hale is keeping alive and well today.

Final Thoughts

Cinderella will always be special to me. She’s not my overall favorite princess, we still have quite a while before we get to her. But she is firmly my second favorite. The film is outright my second favorite of all time (again, we’ll get to number one later). It’s the first movie that I remember seeing in my life. I would watch it for hours over and over again. I had dolls of her. I would dress up as her. The whole reason I wanted to go to Disney World was to meet her, and I did. The film looks beautiful. The music is beautiful. The characters are memorable. The story is an outright classic even before Disney adapted it. To quote Beauty and the Beast, it is a tale as old as time. Maybe it’s just nostalgia talking, but even after all these years, I love this movie just as much as I did when I was a little girl. Maybe even moreso now. It is a true Disney Masterpiece.

Disney was hoping for a miracle, and he got it. Cinderella was the biggest hit that they had had in a looong time. Audiences and critics loved it. It was the moment that Disney was back in business and able to return to feature film, launching them into the Silver Age of Animation. While his next film, Alice in Wonderland, didn’t go very well, both Peter Pan and Lady and the Tramp helped keep the studio afloat. As the decade came to a close, the studio decided that it was time to release another fairy tale-inspired film. Would this one strike gold like the first two? Come back next time to meet the final Classic Princess, Sleeping Beauty.

Image Sources: Disney Wiki, Animation Screencaps Other Sources: Rags to Riches: The Making of Cinderella Documentary

#cinderella #disney princess #disney princess reviews #callie reviews

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heyyyharry · 5 years

Text

Chapter 6: Teenagers In Love

(from the My Girl Trilogy: Be My Only)

…in which Harry finds the perfect location for their official date.

Warning: SMUT 😱

AU: actor!Harry, older!Harry, younger!Y/N, (4-year age gap).

Word count: 4.3k

Chapter 5: Her - Harry tries to win Y/N back, but there’s another problem.

Wattpad link

A/N: This chapter is inspired by 17 by Julia Michaels and Teenager In Love by Madison Beer 😄

You make me feel like a teenager in love / Can we stay in this dream like we are 17?

From the passenger seat, Harry watched the giant light orb slowly sink beneath the fiery horizon. His skin was cooled by the wind but his heart was as warm as the color of the sky. Even this beautiful sunset couldn't hold his attention for too long.

He turned right back to Y/N, his lips pressed into a smirk when she stopped humming her favorite song and complained, "quit staring at me, it's creepy," but her nonchalant smile let him know she secretly liked it.

"We're on a date, Bambi. I'm supposed to be staring at you," he said with a hand on her thigh and she instantly smacked it away.

"Don't be handsy while I'm driving," Y/N grumbled.

Harry intended to crack a joke about how extra careful she was, but they were heading toward an intersection so he paused to tell her, "turn left here and keep going straight."

"But this route leads us out of the city."

"Yeah." He calmly nodded despite her confusion. "Didn't I tell you we weren't gonna be in London tonight?"

It took her less than two seconds to figure out what he meant and her eyes grew wider than before. "No. Fucking. Way."

"Yes, baby. We're going home."

The proud look on his face made her chuckle. "I've underestimated you."

"Apology accepted," he said while beaming. "I think it'll be more meaningful if I take you back to where we started. So," he clasped both hands together, "for tonight, I want us to be two normal teenagers going on their normal first date."

"If we're teenagers then how old are we?"

"Seventeen."

"So we're not legal yet?"

"Shit!" He faked a gasp. "I forgot that it's our birthday today! We're eighteen now!"

Y/N cracked up and poked her head out of the window to shout, "TODAY IS OUR BIRTHDAY!" at a random car. The couple was in hysterics when the grumpy driver flipped them off, but they couldn't care less, because there was no one else on this empty highway. Her hair was blowing in the wind, so he reached out and carefully tucked a strand behind her ear. She looked so beautiful right now. And he had never felt more in love.

It was dark when they finally arrived in Holmes Chapel. Having lived in London for too long, Harry was used to the warm glow of streetlights outside his bedroom window, and so he found such darkness strange, yet mesmerizing. The sky was a pure velvety black sprinkled with luminous stars. The moon was full and bright, the most beautiful he had recalled, so maybe it was a sign from the universe welcoming them home. Leaning out of the window, he inhaled the Jasmine-scented air, as the memories of his childhood rushed back like a fast-forwarded film inside his head. When he was a teenager, he used to enjoy driving in the night, he never remembered all the roads in this town, but he wasn't afraid of getting lost because they would always lead him home.

"Are you hungry?" He turned back to her, sounding like a happy little boy as he suggested, "let's go to that famous gastro pub near our school, the one we couldn't afford when we were little, what's its called?"

"Ginger Barrel?"

"Yeah, yeah, that one!" His eyes lit up in excitement. "Is it still there?"

"Yeah." She nodded, flashing him a grin. "I still can't afford it though."

"Tonight you do! I'm your credit card."

Y/N instantly responded with a scoff as she rolled her eyes and pushed his face away. "No, you're not. We'll split the bill."

"I knew you were gonna say that. But you drove me here, so just think of it as me paying for the fuel."

"Fine," she agreed just so he would shut up. "But next time you drive, and I'll buy you dinner."

Just as she finished that sentence, the car lurched forward, stopped in the middle of the street and the motor went off completely. It was ironic how they had just mentioned fueling the vehicle, but one second later it broke down without warning and left them stranded on a back road through the woods.

"Don't worry, it happens a lot," Y/N reassured her startled date as she took a deep breath. "Let's just wait here for a while and it'll work again."

"How long exactly?"

"About...an hour."

"What?!" He gasped. "Bambi, we're in the middle of nowhere!"

"I'm sorry, okay? I don't—" She suddenly paused, her eyes lit up as if she'd just recognized something. She grabbed his shoulder, shaking him slightly. "Hey, do you trust me?"

"Of course, I do," he said, though doubt was clear in his tone.

"Okay, then help me move the car to the side of the road. We're taking a walk."

"Wait, what?"

"Trust me," she reassured him. "I know this town like the back of my hand, I grew up here."

"Ouch!" Harry gripped his chest like he'd just been shot in the heart and her laughter torn down the silence surrounding them. Eventually, he got out of the vehicle and helped her move it to the side of the road. His heart was racing when she took his hand, mostly because he had no idea where she was taking him. His manager, Jeff, would never have allowed him to risk losing his money-making tool — his own life, from walking into the dark woods. However, his heart was speaking for his brain right now, and it told him to follow her wherever she went, so he did, no questions asked.

But Y/N wasn't joking when she said she knew Holmes Chapel like the back of her hand. After only five minutes of walking, they got out of the woods and found themselves in a large meadow. It wasn't the first time he'd been here, because he remembered that lake in which he used to go swimming every summer night. He and Y/N would climb on the giant oak tree and sit on its biggest branch to practice skipping rocks.

"I discovered that shortcut when Celine and I were out here looking for her cat." Y/N tugged at his sleeve, pointing ahead. "Our school is right across those trees. See?"

"Yeah..." He chuckled, their fingers were interlocked as he turned back and looked into her soft eyes. He caressed her cheeks, slowly and tenderly. Her lashes fluttered as she held his gaze and locked her fingers around both of his wrists to keep his hands on her face. Those few quiet seconds were the most relaxing he'd felt in such a long time, as if time had stopped and they were the only ones left on Earth.

"You're so beautiful," he spoke softly, watching her eyes twinkled when she laughed.

"So are you," she said in an undertone and didn't protest when he leaned in, and finally captured her mouth with his own for a slow and chaste kiss, which turned hasty and sensual in a second. He slid his fingers into her hair as her arms snaked around his waist, pulling him in. It was he who withdrew and put a hand on her neck to keep them apart.

"Let's slow down, yeah?" he said, their forehead pressed together. "We've got all night."

She quietly nodded and licked her lip, which made him want to go against his own words and kiss her again. But he managed to fight his own urges to break away from her.

They sat down on the grass by the lake, looking up at the glittering assemblage of stars and allowing their own silence to take over. There was nothing more soothing than the sound of crickets singing in combination with the peaceful rustling of leaves. The soft breezes blew through the trees, brushed against the water's surface and blurred the reflection of the night sky, only for it to go back to complete stillness like an enormous mirror laid on the ground.

In the absence of the rest of the world, Harry and Y/N finally did what they should have done years ago. They talked.

He told her his side of the story which she'd never got to hear, from how he'd come to her place after she'd left, to how her journal entries had helped him see the many things he'd done wrong. He expected her to be angry, but instead, she gave him a smile. "I thought I lost that notebook."

"I was scared you'd hate me if you found out I'd kept it all this time."

"Good thing I already hate you," she replied and laughed along with him. Then she began to talk about herself, about everything, including how she'd discovered her mother's secret, which had helped her mend the relationship with her dad, but also made her give up on her dream of becoming a writer.

"I don't know..." She shrugged while toying with a wildflower at her feet. "My feelings and expectations had caused me so much trouble in the past. I just...don't want to get hurt anymore, so it's better to focus on the present and reality instead of dwelling in the past or the fictional worlds I've created. Without unrealistic expectations, you can never be disappointed, right?"

Harry let his thoughts run for a while before pursing his lips, seemingly disagree. "You are a great writer, Bambi," he blurted. "Everyone needs to read your stories, they're fantastic, even the ones you wrote when you were a little girl. And what's wrong with unrealistic expectations, anyway? For all I know, they're what make the world a less horrible place. Take me for example, I love acting because I get to be someone else, even for just temporary, but it feels nice to pretend you're not you and you're in a different world and have a different personality. Things like those make life much more interesting, don't you agree?"

She said nothing, just staring at him with an ambiguous smile that left him dumbfounded.

"Did I say something wrong?" He asked.

Only now did she shake her head. "No, you're absolutely right." Then she paused for a second. "You sound like my mum, that's all. If she was here, she would say something like that."

"Do you still think about her? I don't see you wearing the necklace I gave you anymore."

"I still do, sometimes, not as often as before, but—Well, I have to let her go at one point, right?" She giggled softly, hugging her knees to her chest and glancing heavenward.

Harry had always thought the sky full of stars in his hometown was the most beautiful work of art, because he grew up dreaming and pondering under that sky. He'd missed it a lot while living in London, where the city lights would drown out even the brightest stars. But now that he was here, engulfed by a luminous galaxy, he realized it wasn't just the night sky in Holmes Chapel that he'd missed; it was also her. And now he didn't have to look at those stars anymore because his entire universe was already right next to him.

"Have you ever gone skinny-dipping?"

Her sudden question caught him off guard, so he stuttered, "uh...no, why?"

Y/N stood up, but before he could ask another question, she pulled her summer dress over her head and tossed it down on the grass. She wasn't wearing a bra so her bare breasts spilled out, leaving him gawking like a fool. He had seen much more, but this sight got his cheeks turning pink. Ignoring the look on his face, Y/N kicked off her shoes and pulled down her panties, letting them fall at her feet as she tip-toed to step out of them. The moonlight made her breasts look smaller, but she was still perfect to him, her naked form had him bewitched. He could clearly see the goosebumps on her arms, the scars on her legs for all those years she'd climbed the tree in their backyard. Her body was like a map of her beautiful childhood memories, which was why he fell in love with it as he'd done with her.

"You coming?"

He blinked rapidly when her voice pulled him back to reality. His eyebrows drew together in concern. "What if someone sees us?"

"No one will, I've done this many times before." Her answer left him in shock. Without waiting for him to follow, she turned and gave him one last look over the shoulder before running toward the lake. He watched her dive in with no splash, like a mermaid under the beautiful moonlight. She was swimming around and dipping her head back in the water to smoothen her sleek hair.

"Come on, Harry, don't be a pussy!" She broke into a fit of laughter.

Harry sighed, rolled his eyes and swiftly stripped himself naked, but he didn't jump right in; he slowly walked into the lake as if to test the water temperature, and Y/N just lost her patient. She swam up to him, grabbed his hand and dragged him underwater. He frantically clawed back to the surface, gasping for air.

"That was mean!"

"Calm down, Styles! Have some fun!" She giggled when he splashed water at her and pulled her to him. Before she could say anything, he shut her up with his lips. His heart was beating so fast that his skin tingled and his stomach was on fire. He thought this might be too much because his cock was firm against her stomach, but Y/N didn't mind, she took the initiative and slipped her tongue between his lips. His arms were tightened around her waist as he swam them over to the edge of the lake, kissing her neck and groaning into her cold skin.

He wasn't in his right mind when he moved his right hand between her thighs and caressed her clit with his thumb. The breathy sound of his name escaped her mouth, her eyes fell shut when he dipped his index finger inside of her. She moaned louder, her face buried in the crook of his neck as she kissed his collarbone. Now she truly felt like a hormonal teenager.

"Fuck...baby..." She gasped and moved his hand away, leaving him frantic. "I want to but...not here."

"Oh...okay." He kissed her again, softly. "But not in a car again please."

"Oh, God. Don't bring that up!"

"Alright, alright, let's get out of here. I know just the place." He laughed and kissed her shoulder when she hid her face into the crook of his neck.

The couple got out of the lake and fumbled their clothes back on. He'd been knuckle-deep inside of her just a minute ago, but now both of them were flustered just from watching each other get dressed. He slipped into his jeans as color burned in his cheeks, thankfully the darkness hid that so well. Walking back to the car, they couldn't keep their hands off each other, one moment their fingers were interlocked, and the next his hands were underneath her dress and they were kissing. He didn't usually do this when he was on a date, but they weren't in London now, they were home. No one was here to spy on them, to judge them, or make them feel uncomfortable. Tonight, it was just them and the moon.

They made out in the front seat for a while until the flashing light of another car tore them apart. She hurriedly climbed to the passenger seat, letting him be the one behind the wheel this time. They both looked like a mess right now, especially Y/N with her hair wet and tangled, her dress riding up, one strap falling past her shoulder. He had to use up all of his self-control to ignore his aching erection and started the engine to get them out of here as fast as he could. That fancy dinner will have to wait, he told himself. As she leaned out of the window and stared at the dark trees sliding past them, he took another turn to enter the highway and kept on driving until their childhood houses came into view.

"Wait, no!" She bounced up in her seat, staring at him with wide eyes. "Why are we here?"

"We're going to my house."

"We're not having sex while your parents are downstairs, Harry!"

The way she reacted got him shaking with laughter. "Relax, kid, they're not home. They're visiting my stepdad's family."

She released a sigh of relief when he pulled over in front of his yard. They got out at the same time. She walked around the car, toward him, her eyes narrowed for she didn't get why he was smiling. He didn't tell her, but the truth was, he found it interesting that she'd never waited for him to open the door for her. He guessed that was just how she was; she preferred doing things by herself.

They walked the steps up to his front door, and Harry was glad he'd brought the spare key just in case they might need to stay the night. Little did he knew, his plan didn't go smoothly as he'd expected. When he pushed the door open, the first thing he saw was his mother in her PJs. Just like the young couple, Anne was in shock. It was only until she saw them holding hands that she cheerfully exclaimed, "you two are finally together!"

Harry chuckled when she rushed toward them and pulled them both into a hug. She didn't even ask why they were home this late at night, all she cared about was them finally being something more than friends. Immediately, Anne pulled away and gripped Y/N's shoulders tightly as she sized her up. "My God, why are you soaked? Was it raining on the way here?"

"It was." Y/N giggled, glancing up at Harry whose face reddened as he scratched the back of his head. "Mum, where's Robin?"

"Oh, he's visiting his family," Anne said, and Harry received a glare from Y/N. The mother still hadn't caught on what was happening so she looked rather excited about seeing her son again, especially when he was with the girl she'd hoped he would end up with.

"You could've told me you were coming! Hurry, go upstairs and change or you'll get sick." Anne didn't wait for a response as she propelled the kids toward the stairs, and they had no choice but to do as she said. Y/N walked in front of Harry, who kept his hands on her hips the entire time, as if she was a toddler and couldn't walk on her own.

His bedroom was at the end of the hallway, right next to Gemma's. The hole in the roof had been fixed, and the room looked as good as the last time he'd seen it before moving to his dorm in London. He had taken most of the stuff with him that day, so now the room only contained a small bed, neatly made, and a small table with two straight-backed chairs. His walls looked empty without those posters that seventeen-year-old him thought were cool. A lot had changed since then.

Y/N made her way to the bed, sat down and signaled him to shut the door. His heart was pounding out of control as he came to sit right by her side. They were kissing again, this time, the kiss was slower, but wet and enthusiastic.

"I slept in this bed once..." She spoke with a brittle voice as his lips pressed against the curve of her jaw. "I was nine, and my parents were out of town..."

"I remember," he said between open-mouthed kisses down her neck. "You made me...sleep...so...far away from you...because you said...boys were gross."

Her chest vibrated with laughter. She cupped his cheeks and lifted his face. "Boys are gross," she repeated, making him laugh.

"Yeah? I guess kissing is gross too? All that saliva and stuff..." He teased before his lips found hers again.

Soon she was lying on her back with him on top. Her dress was on the floor, along with his shirt and jeans. His skin was slick with sweat and she felt so aroused watching the beads roll down the tattoos on his toned chest. Her nipples were hard and begging to be touched, and Harry knew that because his cock was the same. So he sucked on a nipple, causing her back to arch as he gripped her bottom and ground his erection against her glistening folds. She felt so embarrassed that they were doing this with his mother's presence in the house, but lust had taken control over her, and now every single part of her was yearning for him.

He tore his mouth away to look at her, his pupils were huge as he observed her face, stroking her bottom lip with his thumb.

"I love you so much." He breathed. "I wish that I was your first."

"You are," she whispered, and a smile crept up on her face when she saw how dumbfounded he was.

"Tonight, we're each other's first, remember?" She reminded him. Her lips curved into a smile as he muttered "I love you" again and again, before pulling down his boxers in one swift movement. As he reached for his jeans on the floor to get the condoms from his pocket, his cock twitched, it was leaking, and painfully hard, so she couldn't blame him when he nearly fell off the bed trying to open the pack and put the condom on with his trembling hands.

Pushing her thighs apart, he moved between them, then wasted no time to carefully guide himself into her. The fullness and stretch were familiar and strange at the same time. She hadn't had him in a year so it was sore when he entered. He felt even more massive than she remembered. Then he was all the way inside, a heavy groan got stuck in his throats as he pressed his forehead against hers, his mouth hung open and his face twisted.

"God, you're tight," he gasped. "I could just come right now, I'm not joking."

Her laugh jerked as he began to move experimentally, the intense pleasure had them both shudder at the same time. Then he picked up the pace, thrusting a little more rapid. He was so thick and full inside of her that she could feel him all the way in her stomach. She struggled to breathe, yet her hips were bucking to urge him to move faster. And so he did, giving her exactly what she'd asked for.

He slid one hand down to her hip and his head dropped forward as he pounded harder toward orgasm. She could feel the heat spreading all over her body like wildfire, but as her fingers found her clit, he smacked her hand away and replaced it with his own. All she could do was look at him helplessly, her eyelids fluttered but she wanted to watch him come. His mouth was in an 'o' shape as her nails scratched down his back and the overwhelming sensation swept right through them. Y/N bit onto his shoulder to muffle her cries, soon his head fell back, and a growl rumbled in his throat as he chased his release. He flopped down on top of her afterward, her entire body went numb, completely fucked out.

"That was good..." She managed to speak but unable to move a muscle.

"Yeah? That was my first time, I'm a natural."

She playfully hit his shoulder for that joke and both of them dissolved into laughter. Slowly, Harry pulled himself out of her pulsing heat which still fought to keep him inside. He shifted around to make himself comfortable before looking up at her.

"I forgot," he said softly.

"Forgot what?"

"To say I love you during." His answer put a smile on her face. Though her eyes were closed, she could tell he was also smiling at her.

"You don't have to say it every five minutes, H."

"Yeah but..." He pressed a kiss to her flushed cheek. "I love you."

She responded with a giggle and turned her head to look at him again. As she parted her lips to say something, his mother's voice caused them both to flinch. "Hey, you guys want some milk?!"

"No, mum!" He shouted back to her, but there was no answer. The horrified look on his face made Y/N laugh so hard that her stomach was in pain.

"Is she gonna come up here? Because I honestly can't move."

"She might. But don't worry, I already locked the door," he reassured her and laid a kiss on her forehead, pulling her back into his arms.

The sun had come out by the time they made it to London, and Y/N pulled her car to the side of the road to drop him off at work. Their bodies were aching and exhausted from all the love-making and staying up all night just to talk. But that wasn't a big problem now that they were happier than they'd ever been. The memories from last night would be enough to get them through another busy day, until they got to see each other again.

"Will you come over tonight?" She asked as he unbuckled his seatbelt.

"Sure, love." Harry nodded. When he leaned in, however, Y/N instantly put a hand on his chest.

"We can't," she reminded him. They had already risked being seen together, she couldn't let anyone catch them making out in public, especially when things were just looking up. Harry also knew that, still he seemed disappointed. Right before he could leave, however, she held onto his arm.

"Have a nice day," she said with a bashful smile. "I love you."

His expression dulled for a second before his whole face lit up with a massive grin. "Fuck it," he exhaled, grasped her face, and kissed her hard. Y/N’s eyes went round as she pushed him right off, but the man didn't seem to care at all. He told her he loved her before getting out of the car and happily leaping up the steps into the building, while she stayed here, smiling like a fool.

But then that smile was gone. She saw Ruby stepping out of her black Audi and their eyes met for a brief second which felt like a minute. The woman was ice cold as she slammed the door and marched up the steps into the same building.

#harry styles fanfic #my girl series #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfics #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles writing #harry styles series #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst

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mooleche · 5 years

Text

A Tale of Ink and Venom

A/N - It’s happening! I’m reworking the old story I was working on to hopefully build a better version in its place! Multi-chapter fic involving OC x Colossus where OCs story unfolds while trying to do a heroic act that ends badly and the chaos the unfolds in the aftermath. Might do a few chapters on here and then move over to AO3 fully eventually to keep from making super long posts but we’ll see how it goes! ( *’ω’* ) Let me know if you’d like to be tagged!

Also BIG THANKS to @leo-writer for proofreading, you are a saint ily!

₍₍ (ง Ŏ౪Ŏ)ว ⁾⁾

Chapter One: The Video

Moments.

Buddha says that one moment can change a day, one day can change a life and one life can change the world.

I was never one for religion but I think he was onto something there. Look at heroes, for example, they’re faced with moments like these every day. Ones that will save a life and ones that will take them away the second you hesitate. Moments that will give you the upper hand if you’re lucky and others that will leave you flat on your ass if you're not.

Or worse.

Now, I'm no hero by any means, but I like to think that the moments I experienced today would help shape what was in store for me tomorrow. A moment that would maybe even help shape me into something more someday.

So with that, let me ask you this:

Just what moment was it that led me to witness the death of a real superhero in his time of need? And not just any run of the mill death either. I'm talking blood everywhere, in my mouth, in my hair.

Everywhere.

How had it all gone so wrong so fast?

I suppose in order to know that we have to go to the beginning, back to the morning where my life was about to be given a serious overhaul into chaos.

Back to college.

It was late. Very late.

A judgemental 3:45 AM stared back at me from the corner of my laptop's screen and a sigh of defeat escaped me. The Witching hour no longer belonged to ghosts and demons, but to college students that waited until the very last minute to get their 10-page essays written before it was too late. I was no exception to this, sacrificing the last remaining brain cells I had left to crap out what I deemed a passable paper on the artists of old.

At least that's what I had been doing.

Now I sat with my legs drawn up to my chest as I stared with growing exhaustion at my laptop. The glowing screen was flooded with news reports of the latest superhero successes and the villains they caught around town. This wasn’t exactly an uncommon thing for a city like Brooklynn. In fact, it was because of this city being such a hot zone for criminal activity that we had things like ‘Top 10 Villain Blunders of the Week’ to begin with.

Then, strangely, my eyes spotted something that I hadn’t expected to see.

I lurched forward, immediately feeling my body protest as I inspected the article that had grabbed my attention. It was a few days old, a journalist touching base on a series of unfortunate events from almost 6 months ago. A superhero trainee under the name of Deadpool had landed himself in hot water after murdering an orderly from the Essex House for Mutant Rehabilitation in what was seen as a cold-blooded attack to the media. Just reading the name of the facility left a bad taste in my mouth, but the video it included to recount the moment made the sensation even worse.

It was old, I had watched it over a dozen times in the recent months and yet I still found myself glued to the screen with morbid curiosity. The cameraman who had been focusing on a tense-looking reporter at the scene now fumbled clumsily over to the main event, a stout looking teen who had earlier called himself Firefist. I’d give you three guesses why he called himself that but taking a look at his clenched fists answered it all too well.

He stood separated from a cautious crowd of police and bystanders with hands that radiated heat strong enough to cause everyone surrounding him to keep their distance. That was if all the destroyed wreckage around him hadn’t given them more than enough reason to stay back already.

As many times as I had seen this, I still felt bad for him. He looked worn down and angry, but more than anything was the noticeable expression of fear he wore, like a trapped animal willing to do anything to escape. A feeling that I was once all too familiar with.

I sank back into my chair and sighed. No amount of times seeing that clip made that look any easier to see. It was one that hit so close to home and yet I couldn't pinpoint it no matter how many times I tried. I closed my eyes and listened to him continue to threaten the police ballsy enough to step towards him:

"Stay back, I'll burn you!"

The words didn't resonate, but the tone did. Somewhere in the back of my mind was a memory lurking that I couldn't quite touch no matter how hard I focused on it. A memory sealed away so tight that even thinking about it caused my thoughts to grow numb, but that panic in the boy's voice always caused it to stir. Sometimes I felt like I was close enough to grasp it, all I needed was to push a little farther-

A loud bang erupted nearby and my eyes shot open in a panic. Whatever unconscious soul searching I had been doing was broken as I scrambled to catch my headphones now threatening to fall off my face. I looked around, both frantic to find the source to the sudden noise and also hoping no one saw my embarrassing act only to be greeted with muffled laughter nearby.

"Buenos Dias, Princesa! Did I wake you?"

I rubbed my eyes haphazardly and looked to the side of the small room to find a redheaded amazonian grinning back at me from the window. To my utter surprise, the sun was now out and shining it’s smug rays straight into our dorm as I stood to greet the grinning assailant. My bones protested with various cracks in response before I shuffled to my bed and threw open the window to face her.

"That wasn’t funny, Ava! What are you even doing up so early?" I asked through an unavoidable yawn, but I already knew the answer. Ava Santana was a Dominican powerhouse of energy, a mysterious enigma that seemed to only love running, German beer and, for a few crazy months, me. When she wasn’t burning the candle at both ends to keep her insane track record and an intimidating 4.0 GPA up, she was usually creating some wild new building blueprints that she was proud to show off to you before stealing your girlfriend.

I didn’t know how she did it all and at this point, I was too afraid to ask.

She lifted herself onto the windowsill before tossing her shoes inside, swinging her long tan legs onto my bed to join me all in one fell swoop. All I could do was blink in surprise, knowing I would have faceplanted halfway through if I even attempted this motion. Her gaze studied me curiously now.

"We both know why I’m awake, or were you expecting someone else to carry our track team to victory?" She teased, her face close to mine with a devious smile planted on her lips. “What's your excuse though, Sleeping Beauty? Building more schematics? Spying on the police scanner? Or maybe staying up late to watch him again?”

“Me? What? Hah, no. Can’t a girl just finish her essay like a good normal college student?”

“You could...if you’re not Nina Knight,” another voice announced beside us and I turned quickly to see another familiar face smirking back at us. Her name was Bambi Banks and she was known as the bad influencer extraordinaire of our dorm when she wasn’t taking candid photos for the Daily Bugle. You thought you had a bad idea? She had 10 at the ready that would probably get you put on the Top 10 lists. Despite this, she was the best friend a girl could ever ask for.

Even if she now held my laptop in her hands frozen on a very particular shot of the clip that caused my face to burn.

“I really was working on my essay!” I protested as I reached for it only to fall short as Bambi moved just out of my range and looked to Ava curiously.

“I don’t know, Ava. Does this look like an essay to you?”

“You’re the journalist in training, tell us what you see.”

“Well if I had to title this ‘essay’, I would say ‘10 Reasons I Want This Man to Sit on My Fac-’”

“Alright, enough! You caught me,” I protested as I made another attempt to grab the laptop and succeeded, cradling it in my arms with a frown plastered on my face. “I just wanted to hear the update on this story…It put a lot of people in hot water y’know.” I added before taking a seat back at my desk, ignoring their victorious snickers. As much as I did have ulterior motives for watching the clip I really did want to see the outcome of the nationwide fiasco. Despite both the trainee and the kid being taken to the Ice Box to be reprimanded the X-Men and mutantkind as a whole were put under fire for their actions and the remainder of the story fell to a hush to the media in the months after.

Bambi rolled her eyes and ran her hands through her hair, flecks of hot pink from her bangs peeking through her blonde locks as she gave an exasperated sigh over my earnest answer.

“I really shouldn’t be saying this but the guy that looked like he was a walking talking condom was in the right all along.”

“No bullshit? How?” I pressed, now fully taken by the sudden turn of events.

“I heard it from some guy at the Bugle. That Essex place was nasty for mutants, another conversion camp or something so the government was desperado to keep it under wraps.”

“Leave it to the government to try and kill the truth,” Ava muttered under her breath as she stood to leave, pausing to take one of my hands in hers to inspect it thoughtfully. The contrast was big between us; her hands were long and slender while mine were smaller and discolored to a sooty black at the tips. “At least this means you won’t have to hide anymore.”

I knew that she meant well but the words still caused me frown. Not many people knew that I myself was a mutant. Hell, when you lived in a society where people who weren’t old, white, or male were already frowned upon like the next bubonic plague it wasn’t something you wanted getting out. Throw a genetic mutation that gave you unusual powers into the mix and you were the plague. I was lucky to have people around me that knew and accepted me like I was normal, but the reminder still stung.

Bambi seemed to sense this and absent-mindedly pressed the play button on the video once more as if to distract my thoughts and boy did it work. I felt my face grow warm once more as the clip played. There, once frozen on the screen had been the perfect back shot of a man sprawled over the trainee after his killer shot, a man that now stood a good few feet over everyone else as the police did the cleanup of the area.

A man covered head to toe in metal.

He went by Colossus, but his real name was Piotr Rasputin. At least this is what Google told me when I went super-sleuthing around after I saw him in action for the first time. When he wasn't saving the day with his ragtag team of heroes he taught at Charles Xavier's School for Gifted Learning, a sanctuary for mutants who wanted to feel safe while honing their skills to help mold a better tomorrow.

I had met Xavier himself years ago on my own tour of the school with my parents. He was very nice and very bald. The school itself had been created in his families estate and transformed into the bustling safe haven that it now was, when it wasn't getting blown up by the villain of the week at least. Despite this terrifying fact I was always envious of those who could attend because I had always wanted to enroll myself. The only downside was that my parents didn't want a burnt corpse for a daughter in the aftermath. How selfish.

I threw my hands up to my face and groaned. “That could have been me on his team! I could have been hot for teacher!”

“And? What’s stopping you? If you like him so much why don't you just go to the school?" Ava called from our bathroom and I groaned again.

“It doesn’t work like that. You can't just go back to that school.”

“And why not? You’re a mutant right? You wanna meet other mutants, right? Maybe get some chrome dome in the process if you get my drift,” Bambi winked.

I glared at her in response.

It was true, I was a mutant, and maybe I did want that chrome dome. But I had tried the whole superhero vigilante thing before.

It didn’t go well.

An ancient proverb once said ‘You can't swim, you can't dance and you don't know karate. Face it, you're never gonna make it.’ and you know what? I stood by that. It’s why I took my very particular set of skills and decided to waste away in one of Brooklynn's most prestigious art colleges -they're words, not mine- instead. It wasn’t ideal, with a dorm that I was convinced was made for ants instead of four people with questionable living styles, but I had friends and I finally felt normal. I didn’t need to mess it up by visiting that school again.

As if reading my thoughts Bambi frowned and took one of my hands in hers, inspecting my inky black fingertips with thoughtful blue eyes.

“I know you’re deadset on having a normal life here but you have a gift, Neeners. And you deserve to be able to show the world what you can do with it.”

“Yeah, I’m really going to turn the world around with my ability to control ink,” I scoffed before taking my hand back gently and sighing. As much as I wanted to bury that side of me I did want to meet others like me, be a part of something bigger and save the day once in a while.

This? This life was boring. But it was safe. And I needed safe.

I looked up to her and smiled softly. “I...will consider going back there, if only to pay Mr. Xavier a visit and...maybe see how the school’s doing.”

“Code for visiting Mr. heavy metal man, got it.” Bambi winked while imitating a heavy Russian accent as she moonwalked poorly out of the room.

“You’re a terrible influence, Bam,” I called through stifled laughter before standing and stretching. As much as I hated her pep talks sometimes she was the reason I kept using my powers, keeping them as fresh as I could in case the chance ever arose to use them. Even now the schematics that Ava had so casually mentioned as a joke were tucked away under my desk to play with on a rainy day.

I must have stared at them too long because I felt Bams hand gently touch my shoulder and I jumped in surprise.

“Did you hear Ava? Your alarm is going off,” she asked softly before nodding towards my phone. She was right, the soft tune alerted the room once more before I had the chance to turn it off and blinked in surprise.

“Sorry, my mind was somewhere else...”

“Between Professor Colossus’ thick thighs we knooow. Don’t let that mans glutes cost you your job,” Ava teased before motioning for Bambi to follow her out the door. She held back and gave me a reassuring squeeze.

“Hey, don’t let our conversation from earlier freak you out. Baby steps, okay? No rush,”

“Right. Baby steps…” I whispered, my gaze falling back to my hands that I had begun wringing absentmindedly with growing anxiety. I looked back up to her and smiled. “Thanks, Bam. I appreciate it.”

“Hey, that’s what friends are for, right?” she grinned before disappearing behind the door. She was right. Friends were there to steer you onto the better path when you doubted yourself. This is what I tried to convince myself as I headed to the bathroom to prepare for the day ahead.

Now that I look back on it I was grateful for that peaceful moment of clarity between friends because after what happened later on, God was I going to need it.

#long post #fanfic #oc x colossus #marvelsona #oc shit #Nina Knight #vibrates off of tumblr #I'm mad shy abt posting this so #b y e

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agentelmo · 7 years

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The X-Files MSR Analysis Series: Season 1 Episode 5

“Jersey Devil”

Previous episode analysis - 1x04 Conduit.

Ah yes, Jersey Devil. The episode about two strange human beings driven by ancient, hereditary traits to survive - one a sexually-territorial male who stays hidden from the world, and his mate, who, guided by reproductive needs, leaves the safety of her ‘tribe’ in an attempt to procreate.

Oh and there’s a couple neanderthals running around eating people, too.

What?

I love that the first line of my notes for this episode simply says: “Scully rocking the salmon and navy.”

She’s so beautiful in this episode - I mean, she’s beautiful in every episode - but she gets a few great wardrobe changes here and she looks so lovely. Although the final outfit she dons is a zinger.

My word. The 90′s, eh?

So we start with Scully arriving at the supposed basement office that clearly isn’t in the basement. Seriously, watch how they they walk out of the office and straight into the bullpen.

At first, I genuinely wondered if perhaps I’d not remember that they started in a normal office and get sent to the dungeons basement later (I last watched TXF over a decade ago guys, go easy on me) but a little Google research reveals that nope - this is simply a huge continuity error in this one episode. Weird!

So anyway, Scully arrives, and to her amusement, finds Mulder catching up on some essential reading, perusing the latest issue of a fine gentleman’s literary publication.

You know... he was reading a dirty titty mag for filthy manslags. “Marty” will definitely be calling that super hot line, later.

Scully can barely contain herself.

I like the way Scully is totally chill with Mulder and his porn; she never gives him a hard time about it. It’s an amusing aspect of Mulder’s character that’s mostly played for laughs - but the reality is he’s a man; he has needs and no one to satisfy them, (hands down ladies, no volunteers) despite the fact women do find him attractive.

I know, obvious statement is obvious.

But isn’t it true that one of the most unrealistic aspects of the X-Files is how celibate throughout the entire show he is? I mean, just look at the guy.

....

Uhh... I’m sorry, what were we talking about again?

Oh yeah.

I don’t care who calls him Spooky, if there’s a single guy at my place of work who is witty and intelligent and looks like that, I’m trying my luck. So where are all the single FBI ladies? (I swear to God I didn’t Photoshop that picture, by the way.)

I just always found it intriguing that a guy with what appears to be a moderately high sex drive, barely ever has sex even though he quite easily could. Remember season 6′s Dreamland I, Skinner’s secretary? Yeah... ‘nuff said.

I guess he just doesn’t have Morris Fletcher’s way with women?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad he doesn’t get laid. It plays nicely into my theory that while Scully is around, Mulder rarely ever looks at another woman seriously - there are the odd few that he is physically attracted to, like Dr. Bambi Berenbaum from season 3′s War of the Coprophages, but it’s only a perfunctory interest - we never see these characters again.

The only women who ever pose a genuine threat to the MSR are Mulder’s old flames - so it’s Mulder briefly revisiting old feelings from a time before Scully. Otherwise, since meeting Scully, he’s never become romantically attached to someone new. Isn’t that interesting?

So why might he prefer to turn to porn? Well, all I’ll say is this - do you remember that in Dreamland I, after falling asleep watching porn the night before, Morris Fletcher’s wife tells Mulder he was mumbling something about “Scully” in his sleep. Yeah. I’ll leave you to fill in the blanks with that one.

Aaaaaaaaaaanyway... that was quite a tangent, wasn’t it. Man, who knew there was so much to analyse in a few seconds of Mulder looking at a copy of Hankypanky? Which, by the way, is the best name for a porn mag, ever.

It is relevant, I swear. Mulder’s sexual needs figure into the plot of this episode in a very indirect way.

No, really.

It’s really surprising to me just how much Scully smiles so far in season 1. She was so carefree back then, eh? Had no idea what she was in for. At this moment in time, she’s just a normal FBI agent working some weird cases with her sexy crackpot partner.

S1!Scully enjoys simple pleasures, like how in this scene she seems to get a kick out of bringing him a weird case that she knows will pique his interest. She enjoys holding court - she’s the one with the information and she likes to tantalise him with it. The UST is simmering nicely.

I love the way her face tracks his, begging for his attention. And he responds with a bit of casual, flirtatious innuendo - she loves this little game they play with each other as much as he does, look a her. I wish she would get lucky, Mulder. HINT HINT.

For some reason she seems especially radiant and lovely in this episode. I already mentioned this, didn’t I. But seriously, let’s all bask in the glow of how stunning she is - she’s like a cross between Princess Diana and a 50′s pin up.

Don’t you think? Is it just me?

Ahem... so moving along, they head on over to Atlantic City to see what this weird man-eating case is all about, and run into an immediate roadblock when the local detective gets all territorial with his jurisdiction over the case.

Put a pin in this scene in your mind - human behaviour is under the microscope in this episode, and this detective guy is demonstrating some classic traits that are discussed in more depth later.

I love that when she means business and wants Mulder to stop what he’s doing and listen to her, she calls him Agent Mulder.

Oh please, don’t give me fanfic ideas, because I can’t write fanfic for the life of me, but someone, somewhere, must have written a fic where they call each other Agent Mulder and Agent Scully in bed, right? Someone PM me that shit.

So they leave and Scully is still in flirty tete-a-tete mode as they venture outside.

Fuck, that man has a beautiful smile. He really needs to smile like that more often. It makes me giddy that Scully can make him smile and laugh so easily, especially considering what they just went through together in Conduit. They’re so good together even at this early stage, it makes my heart hurt that it takes them 7 years to get their shit together.

Also, Scully’s comment about the Jersey Devil is another, more flippant, example of how she low-key reads Mulder’s mind regarding his theories on a case. She’s joking about the murderer being the Jersey Devil, but that’s exactly what he suspects.

I really am enjoying watching all of the regular dynamics of their later relationship play out for the first time in season 1. Its’s so much fun.

Mulder, you realise you’re flirting right now, don’t you? Come on, now...

Look at her smiling back at him as he attempts to seduce her with the fantasy of what sounds suspiciously like a date; where they grab a hotel together *insert raised eyebrow here* and then go take in the sights and sounds of Atlantic City.

He’s messing with her, of course, he just wants to focus on the case, but he enjoys the back and fourth and know she enjoys it too. They have an unspoken understanding, and, in moments like these, they really do exist in a world of their own together.

Of course, he doesn’t at all expect what comes next.

I cannot express enough how much I love how Mulder completely deflates when he says “you got a date?”

I also love that a date is his immediate assumption - he says it so quick it’s out of his mouth before he even thinks. Is this something he’s been worried about coming between them at some point? I’d say so.

He is well aware that she is a beautiful, intelligent woman, so of course she was bound to inevitably do what beautiful, intelligent women do - go on dates - have a personal life. He probably didn’t want to have to acknowledge, that at some point, their little bubble was going to burst. His deflated response is probably a reaction to thinking that time is now.

So would it be fair to say that Mulder is a little bit threatened by the idea that Scully wants a life that would take her away from him and their their work together. Yes, definitely. But I do think he’s willing to admit that to himself? Definitely not.

Even after learning she’s not going on a date, he remains deflated. Their sparky, fun, UST-laden tooing and froing has been snuffed out, and Mulder unceremoniously throws the keys over to her in defeat. He knows it’s not fair of him to punish her for having a life, but he kinda does anyway, since he ditches her to investigate alone.

Poor S1!Scully is just starting to learn here, that Mulder can be an inconsiderate dick sometimes. Or as she’ll put it later - a jerk.

It’s a flaw of his character, which I guess gives him some depth and makes him more real.

But mostly, it just makes him a dick. A beautiful dick, but a dick all the same.

Wait, hang on... that didn’t come out right.

Unfortunately for Scully, leaving her to make a 3 hour drive, alone, after he was the one to make her come all the way out here in the first place, is the least of his future transgressions.

So lets enjoy his suffering a bit more, shall we? Just look at his face when he hears she can’t spend the weekend with him fart-arsing around Atlantic City looking for cannibal cave men.

Dude… seriously, stop pretending - we know you don’t like it when the real world takes Dana Scully away from you.

Now we come to a scene that, only with 9 years of hindsight, becomes equal parts devastating, bittersweet and omg-squee-shippy-tastic!

Let’s break it down.

So first, Scully with children. She’s a natural at it - attentive, loving, affectionate. The little hug she gives the boy at the end; I can’t even--she would have been such a great mother.

Would have been.

That’s the kicker, isn’t it. Poor S1!Scully is completely oblivious to the fate that awaits her. Our foreknowledge of future events makes these scenes painfully bittersweet now. Despite the fact she would have been wonderful at it, her one chance at motherhood slips away after only a single year with William. She never had, and now never will have, the chance to truly be a mother and raise a child of her own.

I’ll let that sit with you for a while.

Edit: Ahem, yeah so... this was written before My Struggle IV, obviously. As insane and unexpected as it seems, Mulder and Scully do have another child together making this point pretty much moot. But I’ll leave it in for, you know, historical record? lol!

Feels like a ton of bricks in the pit of my stomach just writing it. In my work I have counselled women who have had to come to terms with infertility, and what it means for them to be a childless. It’s an incredibly harrowing thing to accept for many of them, feeling incomplete; less of a woman; their bodies betraying them; denying them something they feel is rightfully theirs - and sadly what society tells them is the greatest contribution they could ever offer to the world - a body that can create life. It’s perhaps, with my experience of these women, that I now look at Scully in a way that I didn’t when I was a teenager; watching the X-Files the first time around.

It makes me appreciate her strength, and her selfless, unwavering, devotion to doing what she thinks is right, regardless of the cost to herself, in a whole new way.

But for S1!Scully, all this talk about motherhood amounts to is a distant thought that, one day, she’ll meet Mr. Right and will start a family of her own. Just like most of us assume, and never question, until it doesn’t happen.

Told you this would be devastating.

All hell is breaking loose at this party with only her and her friend to herd the gorilla-masked kiddies (another oblique reference to primitive human behaviour), but she’s enjoying herself despite it all.

Doesn’t it feel strange to see Scully with a close friend that isn’t Mulder? To see that she once had some small semblance of a life outside of him. It makes me really realise how much she gave up for him and for their work together. What motivates a person to do something like that? Just a passion for the work?

It’s also very unfamiliar to see that Scully once contemplated not becoming a mother. That actually, she felt she wasn’t cut out for it. Although perhaps this is merely a cover for how she really feels. We know from season 5′s Christmas Carol, that Scully has a fear of getting close to people, and tells Emily’s adoption officer that she avoided attachments before her cancer because she was scared of the pain of losing those she loved. We know this changes for her though, as Scully will be forced to painfully acknowledge, in that same episode, that she didn’t realise how much she wanted to be a mother until she couldn’t have it anymore.

Which makes sense when you realise that this scene here, in Jersey Devil, was probably one of very few times Scully considers, and actually tests out, whether she wants a life outside of her FBI career, before discovering she cannot conceive.

Scully’s friend, El, hitting the nail on the head. She would be a great mother, but she has to choose it. She has to decide what’s more important to her - career or family. It’s not something she’s seriously thought about until now.

Being told she doesn’t have a life definitely affects Scully too, she plays it off as a joke here, but we know her actions after this conversation betray her true feelings. She starts to wonder if her work with Mulder is overtaking her life, and that she doesn’t have much else outside of her career. It worries her enough into taking action to change things.

Ah and then it comes to this part of their conversation. The part that gets our little shipper hearts pumping.

You know what’s funny about this scene now? The fact they’re basically discussing finding a man to have a child with. Scully easily dismisses the idea of dating and having children with Mulder, but the irony is that this is now foreshadowing... because that’s exactly what happens.

7 years from now.

That’s some epic retroactive foreshadowing, right there.

But sticking with the present moment, what might Scully’s reason be for calling Mulder a jerk? Well what did he do to her earlier that day? The way he flirted with the idea of them spending some off-duty hours together in Atlantic City and then got weird when she said she had plans and ditched her when she couldn’t do what he wanted. That’s definitely a jerk move.

She quickly corrects herself, acknowledging that his behaviour earlier that day maybe doesn’t wholly represent who he is, but still, I enjoyed the fact she basically admits that his ditching her bothered her more than just being slightly inconvenienced. Hmm, I wonder why... eh, Scully?

Now, things start to get a bit more interesting. As I mentioned before, Scully played off the fact she has no life as a joke but she’s clearly conflicted on whether she’s okay with such a skewed work-life balance. She’s now questioning if she needs to spend more time away from work and start to build a life for herself. And then...as if the hands of fate reached in themselves...

A WILD DIVORCEE DAD APPEARS!

DIVORCEE DAD USES “CREEPER SMILE”.

IT’S SUPER EFFECTIVE???!

Seriously, why does she go on a date with this guy, he looks like a total creeper. The way he’s like, hey, check me out being all fatherly with my I’m-single-and-ready-to-mingle smile. Ugh. Dana!

Back to Mulder now, working off a hot tip from a homeless HBO fan, he’s been hanging out like a hobo trying to catch a glimpse of this Jersey Devil.

Uh, I take it all back. Maybe it was for the best Scully didn’t tag along on this one.

Scully: What happened to ‘grabbing a hotel’, Mulder? Mulder: FBI cutbacks, Scully. Wanna share my blanket? Scully: ...

Can you imagine? Them sitting together, in the cold, huddled under a tiny blanket...

Hmm... wait, I’m changing my mind again.

Mulder sees a dark, human-like figure in an alleyway, but is blocked from pursing it because he is stopped and arrested by the police, due to their mistaking him for a drunk.

Mulder redefining the meaning of the phrase “hot mess”.

So I’ve seen enough American TV shows to know that when you get arrested you get one call, right? So Mulder’s one call - the one person he can rely on to help him out is.... *drum roll*

OMG! NO WAI! Much unexpected! Very shock!

So much sass. Mulder getting sassed by Scully is my favourite thing. Like, ever.

Methinks she’s enjoying getting some sweet, sweet, revenge on him for ditching her, too. Just a lil’ bit.

I love how he just smiles at the end, as if to say “alright, Scully. You win.”

Then, while shovelling his face with food, Mulder tries to convince Scully of what he saw in the alleyway.

Their usual back and forth ensues – Mulder puts forward a fantastic (albeit pretty on the nose) theory about what he saw in the alleyway. Scully runs the gamut of reasons why it might not be what he thinks it is, making Mulder work for his theory. Which is good on one hand, since it’s teaching him to be critical rather than willing to believe anything at the drop of a hat.

But on the other hand, he’s actually right. I think this dynamic would work better if he didn’t always guess pretty much exactly right all the freakin’ time. I think Mulder needs to get it wrong a bit more often to 1. humble him a tiny bit and 2. not make it always seem like Scully’s scepticism is just getting in the way.

As it stands, the main purpose Scully’s sceptical, scientific, approach serves is keeping her and Mulder out of danger. Without her pulling him back from the edge a lot of the time, I think he’d have got himself killed ages ago. Which we’ll get a live demonstration of later in this episode.

Mulder then extends the invitation once more, for Scully to join the hunt, and for them to investigate the case together.

Then the conversation turns veeeeeery interesting.

Scully catching Mulder off guard is another one of my favourite things. His surprised head snap gives me Cheshire Cat face.

She’s put her personal life above their work together twice now and, again, he does a piss poor job of hiding that he doesn’t like it.

But notice something here. When he thinks it’s another birthday party, he isn’t threatened. He doesn’t ask her to cancel, he’s seemingly unaffected - disappointed no doubt - but notice how quickly his attitude changes when she clarifies that, this time, it is a date.

First up... wow, Mulder. Can she cancel? That was bold.

He can definitely sense she’s withdrawing, and he’s beginning to feel territorial about it. As selfish as it might be, he wants their work and partnership to take precedence in her life, but she’s resisting.

Although, it only seems to bother him when it’s a date, apparently. HMMMMMM. Sooo... a kid’s birthday party is less threatening than a date.

I WONDER WHY.

Second... Ouch, Scully.

She’s clearly showing, once again, that her friend’s comment about not having a life got under her skin. Why do I think this? Well I’ve never thought of Scully as petty, but that below the belt comment about Mulder’s life was kinda petty. I think in some small part she is resentful towards Mulder for the current state of her social life - she’s allowed herself to get swept up in his hurricane these past few months and is now a tiny bit sensitive to the assumption that she should drop everything to go Jersey Devil hunting with him.

She’s trying to take back control and get out of this all-consuming bubble they’ve been living in.

Now the next scene is fucking gold. Here’s where everything should hopefully fall into place.

Scully takes Mulder to meet her old university professor in Maryland. Mulder is asking the Professor questions about the Jersey Devil and he explains to Mulder that the wild man myth is universal - almost every culture has one. It represents an apparent symbolic fear of man’s dual nature as creators and destroyers of life.

Look at Mulder... Naww.. tell me more, teach!

The Professor starts to talk about how humans have hereditary traits which make us tribal and aggressively territorial, driven by selfish sexual and reproductive drives which makes cooperation beyond our perceived ‘tribe’ extremely challenging.

Now think about that for a second – what has been going on with Mulder and Scully since the beginning of this episode.

First Mulder has been territorial with Scully; he wants her to himself – not to share her with the demands of a personal life. He wants her to be as dedicated to the X-Files as him, but is finding it difficult to accept that she wants to go off and exist outside the bubble of their partnership - outside their “tribe”.

He is also, on some subconscious level, driven sexually – because why the hell else would he petulantly accuse her of having a date the way he did? He’s not threatened by her spending time with friends, but he is threatened by her spending time with other men. Perhaps not consciously, but somewhere deep down, it bothers him that she would go on a date. Both a kids party and a date result in her spending less time with him, so why does a date, specifically, sting more?

I do feel like I need to reiterate here, that I don’t think Mulder is in love with Scully at this point. But he’s very attached to her, and seemingly, he doesn’t like to share.

Then we have Scully – who has spent a great deal of time this episode discussing her thoughts on becoming a mother, and deciding if she wants to prioritise finding a man and having a family over her career. She then accepts a date with a man based on these discussions – so here, Scully is being driven by her reproductive needs.

She is also driven sexually too though, I mean, we know she thinks of Mulder as being “cute”. So she has definitely acknowledged a sexual attraction to him - and well, who wouldn’t.

But also the shy smile she flashes the creeper divorcee dad suggests she finds him attractive too - she’s not wanting to start dating for the singular purpose of getting preggo, of course not. Like Marty and his Hankypanky mags, she has needs too.

Now, pop your head into Mulder’s kitchen for a sec guys, c’mon just a sec.

FORESHADOWING!

Well, maybe... that damn alien invasion is gonna happen some day. Right, Chris Carter?! RIGHT?!

The scene then transitions into referring to the Jersey Devil directly rather than a meta commentary on Mulder and Scully themselves, and I love that it was Scully’s intention for her old professor to talk some sense into Mulder, but instead Mulder gets the guy to admit that what he’s suggesting, about the Jersey Devil being a pre-historic human, is feasible in the realm of extreme possibility.

Scully, ever the scientist, can’t argue with that one.

As much as she wishes she could.

Later that evening, Mulder sits in the basement-not-basement office looking subdued, staring at evidence photos, twiddling his thumbs... bored. He really is useless without Scully.

Beautiful, beautiful Scully, on the other hand, is on her date looking OH SO NINETIES. But still, lovely.

And OH MY GOD. Divorcee dad is boring as fuck.

No one wants to hear how you fantasise about running people over with your car on a first date, Rob.

Now we could get meta-meta, and suggest that I myself, writing this analysis, am getting quite territorial over the MSR relationship and am threatened by this dude, and that’s why I mock him to pieces. But honestly, there’s just something about him that feels super disingenuous and needy... he screams “please replace my wife and be my son’s surrogate mother” to me.

I mean, they’re not even 30 minutes into their first date and the guy is asking Scully to go on family days out with his kid to the beach. Fuck off, mate... how about you woo me a bit first, yeah? Let me decide if I like you before saddling me with mothering your kid. Geez.

Then he drops a real clanger... which, well - to be fair - isn’t that big a deal to S1!Scully. But, knowing what’s to come, this comment is just unforgivable.

What a douche.

So let’s check in on Mulder again, what’s he up to during this torture.

Look at this lost puppy, slumped in his chair, staring at the clock. I bet he’s checked that clock every five minutes since 7:30.

Mulder... it’s only been 25 minutes. Get it together, man.

You can’t tell me he isn’t feeling shitty, thinking about her being out on a date. Why else would he be moping in his office, and staring at the clock on the wall? GETTING EXACTLY ZERO WORK DONE. I’m getting Chinga vibes, here.

I don’t think he even really understands why, but he hates this. He wants her there - he’s used to her presence now and he’s bizarrely at a loss without her there to focus him.

He then gets a call from the Park Ranger who tells him a body, that is possibly the pre-historic human they’ve been looking for, has turned up in the woods, and that it has been sent to the coroner’s office.

This gives Mulder the excuse he didn’t know he was waiting for to call Scully and try, once again, to pull her back into the bubble.

Look at how bored shitless she is. She’s waiting for you to rescue her. GO MULDER GO!

#SorryNotSorry

The next day Mulder and Scully go back to Atlantic City to inspect the body, but it’s not there to inspect. Mulder theorises that the male neanderthal might have had a female mate, and they go back to the location where Mulder spotted her previously to see if they can find her again.

As they search, Mulder muses about what this neanderthal woman might be like. He questions whether she’s that different from Scully and himself.

Which is exactly the point of this episode - the fact that the two of them are also driven by ancient hereditary instincts. The same way the neanderthal woman and her mate were. Mulder and Scully’s personal life subplot reflect how the modern world has changed how we act on these instincts; but that ultimately we all want the same things. Mulder wonders out-loud whether she feels emotion, or does she just live on instinct - spending her days looking for food. To which, Scully replies...

I don’t know why, but I love that Scully knows how to make Mulder laugh.

Then just when we were starting to enjoy their being together, working as one again, Mulder goes and rushes off without Scully.

She calls to him several times, and he ignores her and then parkours his way to freedom.

Mulder and Scully: SYNCHRONISED PARKOUR MASTERS! Although Scully does it in heels, so she wins.

Mulder is cornered by the neanderthal woman, which he should have seen coming, really, these guys do hunt and eat people, right?

She knocks him down and looms over him. He basically looks like a 16 year-old boy who has never touched a girl before. It’s kind of adorable seeing him pinned to the floor by a naked woman with a look of terror on his face.

Be gentle with me, please.

Never mind.

Scully arrives, just in time, to save Mulder. Get used to that, Scully.

They then head out into the forest, to find neanderthal lady before Detective ThisTownAin’tBigEnoughForBothOfUs hunts her down with his SWAT team and kills her.

Sadly, that’s exactly what happens. They gun her down before Mulder and Scully are able to intervene.

Mulder is devastated. In no small part due to the fact that she’s a woman, alone, vulnerable - hunted. She ticks all the boxes to mess with Mulder’s head and trigger his need to rescue.

Mulder seems quite emotional as he asks the detective why he killed her. The answer he gets doesn’t give him any relief, in fact, I think it only leads him to despair more. Searching the detectives eyes, not quite believing what he’s hearing.

Scully can see Mulder is on the edge; becoming too emotionally involved. So she does what only she can.

She steps in and speaks to him in their private language - where with just a look and a touch, she can bring him back to himself.

I love this aspect of their bond. It’s so subtle, but loaded with a quiet intimacy that’s always just below the surface. These two work best when they are in this bubble together - just the two of them. Every now and then, with just a small gesture, they forget everyone else and withdraw into their own private world.

A week later, back in the FBI not-really-basement, Scully, is telling Mulder about the autopsy results of the neanderthal woman, and gets frustrated as Mulder excitedly prepares to meet a colleague at the Smithsonian - throwing himself further into his work.

Clearly still feeling conflicted about how to balance her work life against her personal life, she tries to convince Mulder that, he too, needs to do some work in that area. But what she’s not understanding is that this is what Mulder does for himself - his work. When he said before that he has a life, this is what he meant. To him, this is living - it’s the life he chose and he’s not ashamed or embarrassed about it.

Mulder is a career non-conformist. He doesn’t work by the rules and he doesn’t live his life by the rules either.

It’s at this point Scully gets a call from creeper divorcee dad, offering her a night out at a Cirque du Soleil show.

Her complete and utter lack of interest in taking him up on his offer finally makes it click for her why Mulder would reject her offer of a day off, or to go get a beer.

Mulder has absolutely no interest in doing those things. They hold no value for him, and no enjoyment, in exactly the same way that she realises she has absolutely no interest in dating this guy, or going to see Cirque du Soleil with him and his freakin’ kid. Geez, man... stop it with the family days out. Someone buy this man a copy of Dating for Dummies.

This epiphany affects Scully deeply, as I think she realises in that moment that working with Mulder and being an FBI agent is the life that brings her the most fulfilment and excitement too. She never did want to date in the first place, it was a comment from her friend that made her question whether or not the way she lived her life was “okay”.

Now it seems she’s decided it is. She doesn’t care about conforming to what is expected of her anymore.

Reminds me of something Gibson Praise says about Scully in season 5′s The End.

I think she reaffirmed for herself, this attitude of not caring what people think, in this very episode. To be who she is, do what she wants and not give a flying monkey what anyone says.

So rolling it back a bit - when Scully gets the call from her divorcee date, Mulder answers the phone, and I’d say he is definitely aware of who it is by the way he walks out of the office without waiting for Scully.

He assumes she will not be coming with him because, well, she has a life now, right? She has more going on than just work and he has every reason to believe she would rather be doing other things with her time, especially after that speech she just gave begging him to take some time off. He thinks he’s got the message loud and clear - that she doesn’t feel the same way about their work as he does, and that this is how things are gonna be from now on.

It’s also a bit petulant of him, isn’t it? The way he storms off after giving her the phone perfectly illustrates that. Not to mention his dejected walk over to the requisition desk after he leaves the office. The way he sounds so defeated as he asks for a car.

So despite trying to be “okay” with it, Mulder is still feeling threatened by this guy encroaching on their partnership – I’m sure of it. The reason I feel so sure is that when Scully approaches him at the requisition desk, he straight away asks who it was on the phone.

Why is he interested? If he isn’t bothered then why ask? Mulder hasn’t shown any interest in her private life before. For the most part, these two never discuss their personal lives. At least, not at this stage.

Is the tension in this conversation not entirely palpable? He really doesn’t like it, does he. I still don’t think he has even realised why he doesn’t like it. The guy is an Oxford educated psychologist and profiler – if he looked at himself for 5 seconds he’d know why – which is probably why he doesn’t.

We don’t see this side to Mulder often, as the series progresses we tend to see this kind of thing more from Scully. To be fair, it’s usually because women fawning over Mulder just seem to keep popping up all over the place.

But I love seeing this. More jealous!Mulder, please. I’m dying to see season 11 for the Mulder vs. Skinner fight that is apparently over Scully. Not to mention it supposedly involving Skinner’s long harboured feelings for her. Fuck yes, please. Can we get some jealous!Mulder up in that, Mr. Carter?

“You gonna have dinner with him again?”

WHY DO YOU WANT TO KNOW MULDER? HUH?

You notice how he perks up slightly after hearing she’s not going to see the guy again? You really need to hear the audio to notice it - but his voice changes.

Ohhh burn. Guess he didn’t like being told he doesn’t have a life, either, eh?

Every now and then Mulder lets slip the odd bitter comment, it’s something he’s doing right up until My Struggle I – revealing his true feelings through backhanded, sarcastic comments rather than outright saying what he feels.

You tell him, Scully.

Phew and that’s Jersey Devil done. Another freakin’ long one! I’m almost certain the next episode will be far shorter... much less MSR to work with. This episode was chock full of it. Next up... 1x06 - Shadows.

#the x files #xfiles #txf #txf gifs #favorite msr moments #msr #msr analysis #x files msr analysis series #mulder and scully #fox mulder #dana scully #david duchovny #gillian anderson #chris carter #jersey devil #txf 1x05

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resconarchive · 7 years

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prinxess's rescreatu rant

Hey all (+Riyo), it's prinxess. I found this blog today, which naturally means I spent the next 5 hours flipping through the archive lol. This was supposed to be a short post but plans never go as expected (Warning: this is LONG). If you know me, you’ve probably seen me try to talk about this stuff in the SB—which rarely goes well, haha. I’m going to word vomit on three main things: Res’s “first come, first serve” issue, Staff/ShoutBox Culture, and my own mistakes.

This isn’t Voice of God. I’m just a flawed 20-year-old who feels compelled articulate her thoughts at least once somewhere.

I accept responsibility for what’s written below.

1. Early Birds Get the Worm

Nice names are Res’s lifeblood. The aim of the game is to accumulate as many as you can. It didn't start out that way but that’s what it's become; it's human nature to want what your peers want. We enjoy having valuable things—the proof is in the pixels. But LOL good names are now worth 1B tu? This is why people are so upset with the site. If you made an account in 2006, quickly hatched three creatu named Diamond, Emerald, and Sapphire, and didn't log in again until now, your account would be worth more than someone who joined a year ago but has put in hundreds of hours into the site.

1B is pretty abstract, so I'll offer a cold splash of in-game reality. 700M = $100

Many of Rescreatu’s issues writhe around one malignant crux: its “first come, first serve” groundwork. Meaning, if your account isn’t old enough to be sent off to grade school, then you are out of luck. With everything. If you weren’t there when you could fish tier-1 names from the Atquateen Forest, if you weren’t there during the mass graveyard purges, if you weren’t smart enough to buy valuable names en masse for cheap from naive tweens 8 years ago, you’re out of luck. Unless Mr. Moneybags disembowels him/herself into your hands, you will never measure up to the sheer wealth of a select few old users (Gunmetal, Fleur, etc).

The visible wealth disparity is unreal. It’s kind of cute—there’s this ritual where when a newbie appears in the SB, older users flood them with tu and lovely creatu because they know baby bambi can’t make it on their own in modern Res. But what about the invisible users? The 99% who never set foot in the SB? Imagine you’re twelve, creating an account for the first time. You’re given XYZtu (aka not enough) to start off with. Hatching pets is fun. You like finding clothes for your avatar in the trash. A while later, you become interested in buying more creatu, so you fiddle around with the Creatu Search. And... you realize that the only good rwns are in the 20M+ range.

Actually no—a few weeks ago, a user called prinxess went through the entire directory, cleaned out most lower-priced RWNs, and stuck them in her shop at mark-up. But hey, she left “Blisters” and “Introspective” for you.

There’s nothing to do on Rescreatu except lord your cool names over other users. Nothing else... except... wait. Isn’t the Kir Quest about colors, not names? Which brings me to my next point. Years ago, blondes were worth 700k, and albinos 3M. Players back then threw these cheap creatu at Kir and rode the Uldavian Express to higher Rounds at mach speed (there are 5 Rounds now. each need an additional 120 creatu/points to access). Nowadays, albinos are no longer stocked in ranchers—period. I’m talking chimbies and meragons, not even seasonals. To use myself as an example, I restarted Kir a month ago (I was only at 25 points, Round 1). I’ll be the first to admit I wasn’t being 100% efficient with my tu, but within a few days, I managed to add an additional 23 creatu to that number. At the cost of nearly one billion tu. 95% of which went towards beans.

If you’re a newbie with a dream of earning a Cyancu Nest, you need to give Kir 180 creatu total. That isn’t just hard—it’s straight-up impossible. From a cost/benefit standpoint, if you do not already have a substantial amount of Kir points, do not touch the Quest. Instead, buy the prize shop items from other users.

Because, let’s do some math. 180 (creatu) x 7,800,000 (price per bean) = 1,404,000,000tu.

I swear on every god out there that, overall, you will not just be spending 7.8M per creatu.

Cyancu eggs are selling for 500M each/1.5B for a nest, pretty close to that mythical 1,404,000,000 number. Just buy the egg.

A staff member once told me, “The Kir Quest is supposed to be hard.” Fair enough. The original purpose of the Quest was to fix Res’s overpopulation problem. Make higher colors valuable again. But now we’ve swung hard towards creatu extinction. The fix is relatively simple. Have Kir ask for blondes/albinos less often. Or increase the likelihood of hatching colors. Should be a simple coding tweak.

Side-note: With beans having become an integral part of Rescreatu’s ONLY real continuous Quest, why are they still cash shop items? People love to tout “but the site needs money to run”. How about put out a better product instead of squeezing users with Stockholm Syndrome/a gambling addiction out of more pennies? Actually, not pennies, it’s serious cash. The next promo is $100 for 3 retired CS eggs—a promo which was supposed to be in December, but moved because the higher ups thought users would be too strapped for cash during Christmas.

2. Staff/Culture

Hopelessness makes the newer users leave. Staff corruption poisons the rest. I’m not involved in current Rescreatu politics, but in the past it absolutely was a thing. Even with generally loved and respected staff members.

I don’t want to disclose too much information, but since I’m old and weary, I’ll say that (without asking for it) a substantial boon was thrown my way because I was friendly with a member of staff. They are still highly regarded within the community.

14BM was unabashedly shady. One day, I announced I was selling a name on the SB and got in touch with a buyer. During our back-and-forth rmailing, 14BM rmailed me to say one of us had “accidentally hit the report button” which pointed her to our conversation. She warned me the other user was ripping me off, and that she could give me a better offer. Not very professional behavior, in my honest opinion.

Way back when, BillyBob was abusing glitches.

A name appeared in anon-staff’s Showroom one hot second after the person it belonged to was banned for “using a bot to find eggs.” Anon-staff had previously asked if they’d ever sell the name and they had said no. Shady.

Real talk. A staff member told me they don’t even care if you use bots, just as long as you don’t find enough seasonal eggs to ruin the market. I think anything above 40 is considered suspicious. Nevermind if you actually have no life and want to search for eggs for 48 hours straight.

There were way more corruption incidents, but those were so long ago I barely remember them. As for current staff, I can’t speak for them. Honestly, I can’t tell who most people are anymore because of all the username switching lol. There’s this ridiculous implicit rule of “don’t ask what someone’s username used to be” around Res. Like hello? That makes no sense. Not only do they retain their unique pets, but really, if someone hated you, a simple change of username isn’t going to make them suddenly forget who you are. Similarly, the whole idea of a new username being “a new start” for the user is frankly hilarious. Especially when you act no different.

That’s unfortunately just the start of my issue with Res’s “nice” culture. I’ll call it by another name: suck-up culture. It’s this omnipresent force of saccharine sweetness that’s nearly alive from how many people are hooked up into it. Plenty of users are genuinely nice, I won’t knock that. But damn, when a staff member/older user/wealthbag comes on the SB? It’s a vicious competition to prove how close they are are with that member. Immediately, there are “glomps” and “huggles” and “we’re married!/best friends” as if they actually give a shit about the other person. You do not. I know you do not. Everyone knows you do not. You’re just trying to get free things—and hey, it’s not a bad move, since those users are generally the gifting type. Oh. The cringiest thing is when a fan gives a popular user a cheap present, so the popular user will feel obliged to give them something in return—hopefully a better something. Machiavelli must be rolling in his grave.

This sugary behavior has somehow infected staff as well. I find it doubly disgusting because I can’t even call them out on it.

“<3 oh sweetheart, just so you know, what you’re doing is called spam. [link to rules] please take a look!! :333 ^_^”

“ *pops in* haiiiii guys, sorry to bump in but could you please take this convo to rmail? :3 *hugs* squeeeee <333 *hopes you dont hate me* ”

Like, fucking Christ. I can feel their phantom arms around me in my sleep. Can anyone speak normally anymore? Does everything need to be qualified with butterflies, sunshine, and overtures of love?

Back to the subject of staff... that issue is multifaceted. First, it’s a weirdly cyclical thing. Notice how newly chosen staff are almost always friends with current staff? I don’t believe I’ve ever seen some anon that’s never visited the SB become staff purely on merit (save for artists/programmers). But I could be wrong. Anyway, users inducted into staff are usually already one of Res’s wealthy elite. I can only speak for the trend I’ve noticed over the years, but A LOT of people become staff as a status symbol. Some also do it because they’re invested in the site and want to make it better. The two aren’t mutually exclusive. You can want to help while liking the boost in popularity at the same time. The real issue with staff is how they are compensated. Getting paid in credits (cash points?) actively increases the wealth disparity in the site. There’s a difference between giving someone 100 dollars versus a handful of credits. If someone handed you a hundred dollars, would you use it for rent or on some virtual name tags? Without this choice, staff are essentially forced into one course of action: buy credit shop items, put these items in their merchant shop, sell them to users, rake in tu. Or just sell cp for tu.

Rescreatu doesn’t use their staff properly. I’m referring to writers and artists. There are hundreds of wearable items available, but dressing up an avatar to look forum-fancy isn’t the purpose of a pet site. It’s a nice feature. But I didn’t join Rescreatu so I could play dress-up, I joined for the pets, for the battle arena, for the story of it all. Writers, I feel, are the most wasted of all. Does anyone actually read the stories in the books? Does anyone buy books, even? Res should take their talent and invest in proper story lines. They have six writers right now. Come on. Put up a good kidnapping site-wide story involving Xoria and Loyna. Get a competition between Scria users and Reiflem users going. Maybe the story could be Quest-style, with the users voting on how the story moves with their tu. Do something!

...Because this site also needs a tu sink. Desperately. Contrary to popular belief, the Kir Quest isn’t a tu sink, it vacuums money up to the top dogs of Rescreatu. You buy 10 beans—where are you getting these beans? More than likely, it’s from a staff member selling 70 of them in their shop. IRL right now there are 4 users selling beans: Feather x34, Isolation x30, Umbreon420 x1, Phos x36. Nothing against these users—in fact, I like them, but do you notice a trend? What do staff do with all this tu? They buy names at premium prices because they can afford to.

Q: Wait, prinx. If you just paid real money, you could have lots of tu too! A: My honor code forbids me from validating freemium games

Q: But, prinx. Why don’t you just become staff? A: I tried when I was 13 but they didn’t accept me ): Probably for good reason.

It’s shocking that the stock market hasn’t been removed/tweaked yet. It shouldn’t be possible to buy 50,000 stocks of FAS for 400k on Sunday, and sell that for 20M one week later. This is another reason why names are considered the real currency on Rescreatu. Their value increases along with the inflation. It’s the only safe investment you can make.

3. Me

So, my long-winded rant is out of the way. Above, I mentioned I’d like to apologize for myself, so here I go. For context, these past few months I’ve been trying to get rid of my RWNs through forum auctions. In the latest thread, I stuck in an umbrella clause basically saying that I reserved the right to pull whatever bullshit I wanted, which I used, without warning, to tack 1.2B Autobuy options to the names. Half my reason was I was being egged on by a friend to do it. Half was because I just didn’t care. Never in my wildest dreams did I even imagine one person would actually go for it, let alone 3. When I opened the thread the morning after, I felt dread. My actions understandably upset quite a few people. I acknowledge that what I did was unprofessional. I regret it, and I’ve learned a valuable lesson.

In general, I’ve spent my recent years on Rescreatu being rude and abrasive. Trying to tie 14 year old staff in logic knots, picking at overly sensitive members, engaging trolls, the works. I’ve been throwing angsty melodrama around like glow-sticks at an EDM concert, and it isn’t fair to the newer members who have no memory of Res’s past.

This post clocks in at 2.5k words. The only reason I’ve written so much is because Rescreatu means/meant so much to me. For all its faults, Res somehow just works. Maybe because it encourages addictive behavior. Maybe because of the community. Whatever it is, it’s helped the site escape multiple waves of peril that would’ve killed any other. For that it deserves some applause.

If you want to contact me, rmail me or email me at [email protected]. I don't bite

Peace.

#rescreatu #submission

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bamby0304 · 7 years

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She Howls I: Awaken

Summary: There’s nothing extraordinary about Angela’s life… until she joins her brother and best friend for a walk in the woods at the dead of night. After getting bitten by a mysterious beast, things begin to drastically change. Now she can do things she’s never been able to do before. But with the change comes complications, like hunters, monsters and a whole lot of secrets…

Chapter Eight: Nordic Blue Monkshood

Masterlist

Warnings: Wolfsbane badness...

Bamby

I couldn't stop tossing and turning. Since finding out about the Alpha, I'd been having a tough time sleeping. Actually, I'd just been having a tough time, period. No matter the situation, I felt like I was being watched, like this other werewolf was out there, never too far away, waiting to make his next move.

Scott didn't seem to have the same apprehensions and myself. During the last twenty-four hours since finding out about the Alpha he's only expressed some mild worry and confusion. Though, I was pretty sure his mind was still too focused on Allison.

He told me about the date and how it went. Don't get me wrong, I was happy that things were working out for him- at least normal things like dating were. But I was too preoccupied worrying about everything else to really be happy for him.

Rolling over, I grabbed my phone. Flinching away from the sudden bright light, I then clicked onto my contacts list and scrolled through it until I found the name I was looking for.

Derek.

Now that I knew the danger he was concerned with was this Alpha, I was beginning to consider his offer. Maybe some training would help? Maybe he could teach me how to fight? Maybe he could teach me how to survive?

If it meant I would be able to protect the ones I love, then I was up for anything. Why now?

I was just about to dial his number when I heard the sound of what I thought was a gunshot, going off in the distance.

Dropping my phone, I sat up suddenly, feeling my heart race.

It could have been nothing, I know that. But in that moment, I was too paranoid to remind myself of that. Instead I found my mind reeling to the worst possible scenario… which was hunters.

Not too long after I heard the gunshot, another sound followed. A howl.

Before I even realised what I was doing, I was out of bed and moving down the hallway, headed for Scott's room. When I opened the door, I found him already out of bed, up and throwing on a shirt.

Neither of us said a word as he turned to look at me. We didn't need to speak in order to know what the other was thinking.

The howl was pulling on our wolf sides. It was calling to us, and we had no choice but to listen. But this wasn't like the night with the bus driver though. This wasn't the Alpha calling us to kill. This was a call for help. For back up.

Scott and I raced down the street. The sound of another gunshot going off had our feet slamming on the ground harder. We were so close. Whoever had called for us, we weren't too far from them now.

We were about to turn the corner of a sea container when the bright lights of a car shone in our direction. I grabbed Scott by the shirt and pulled him back before he was spotted.

Hiding we listened to two people… one of whom we knew.

"Chris, there were two of them." The woman told the man… Chris Argent.

"The Alpha?" He asked.

"I don't know. But one of them tried to kill me."

"One of them is gonna lead us to the other. He can't do that if he's dead." Chris noted, clearly irritated with the woman who must have been the one shooting.

"Well, I can't help kill either of them if one of them kills me first." The woman shot back.

Sighing, Chris looked away for a moment, contemplating something, before he turned back to her. "How long will it take?"

"I'd give him forty-eight hours." She shrugged, adjusting the strap of her assault rifle on her shoulder. "If that." Then she walked away from Chris, heading for his car.

Ducking behind the sea container, I gave Scott a scared and anxious glance. The last thing we needed was another hunter in town.

But that wasn't the only thing I was worried about. Whoever had howled obviously needed help. We had no way of finding them, and no way of making sure they were okay.

If the woman was right and they only had forty-eight hours, I was really hoping it wasn't Derek she was talking about.

Whatever the teacher was talking about, it meant in one ear and out the other. There was just too much going on in my head. I couldn't focus.

The day had been going slow, and even though I now sat in my last class for the day it still felt like there were more hours of this torture coming my way.

My eyes stayed glued to the clock. I watched as it ticked away, slowly and agonisingly. I couldn't stand it anymore. It felt like I was never going to get out of here…

My hand shot up, catching the attention of Mr Harris, my teacher.

"Yes, Miss McCall?"

Unlike my brother, all my teachers liked me. It helps that I was a straight A student that never got in trouble. Having a reputation like that meant I could get away with things other students couldn't… like this for example.

"Sorry I didn't tell you before, sir, but I actually need to leave early. I have a meeting with the guidance counsellor."

With everything that had happened with my parents, and my lack of friends in my own age group, some of my teachers had suggested I see the counsellor a while back. I attended a few appointments, but I felt no need to continue. Though the excuse proved to be useful even after all this time.

He simply gave me a short and understanding nod, letting me go without question.

Gathering my things quickly, I hurried out of the classroom, wanting to get the hell out of there as soon as possible.

Hurrying down the hallway, I planned on going straight to Derek's. I had too many questions that needed answers, and he was the only person I could turn to. He was the only person I could help.

I'd been so distracted that when I raced around the corner I hadn't realised someone was headed the opposite way. We collided in an instant.

As I regained my balance and turned to them, I froze. "Derek? What are you doing-" I cut myself short, seeing the shape he was in.

A thin line of sweat covered his forehead. He was pale and weak. Staying upright seemed to be a challenge for him, as he used the wall to stay standing. It almost looked like he was on the brink of death.

Reaching forward, I placed a hand on his back and another on his arm to help keep him upright. "What's wrong?"

"I was shot." He groaned, energy dwindling fast.

My eyes searched his body, looking for the wound. "Why aren't you healing?"

"I can't." He answered simply.

"Come on." I adjusted my hold on him and started us down the hall. "Let's get you out of here."

We didn't get far. I made it out to the parking lot before he got too heavy for me to hold any longer. So, I did my best and managed to get him to Stiles' Jeep. Breaking in was easy, getting Derek into the back seat wasn't. But we got there eventually.

Sitting in the backseat with him, watching to make sure he didn't die right in front of me, we waited. Soon enough the bell rang, followed by the sound of students hurrying out and towards the many parked vehicles.

Stiles was completely oblivious to our presence as he slipped into the front seat. It took him a moment to actually notice us.

"Oh, God!" He jumped, accidentally knocking the car horn as he did. "What the hell, Angie?" Turning around he looked to me, and then to Derek. His scowl fell, "He's not looking so good, dude."

Scott- who must have heard the car horn- came to stand by the passenger side door. He took one look at me and Derek, and frowned. "What's he doing here?"

"He was shot." I explained, worry smothering my tone. "And he can't heal. I don't know what's wrong."

"It was a different kind of bullet." Derek groaned in pain.

"A silver bullet?" Stiles asked.

"No, you idiot." Even on the brink of death, Derek still managed to get annoyed by Stiles.

Taking a moment to think it over, Scott seemed to put two and two together, realising something I hadn't. "Wait. That's what she meant when she said you have forty-eight hours."

"What?" Derek looked from Scott to me, weakly. "Who said forty-eight hours?"

"The one who shot you." My brother answered.

Suddenly Derek tensed, groaning as his eyes glowed bright blue.

"What are you doing?" Scott's eyes went wide as he looked around the parking lot, making sure no one was looking. "Stop that."

"That's what I'm trying to tell you. I can't." Derek groaned. "I need you to find out what kind of bullet they used."

"How am I supposed to do that?" Scott asked, giving Derek a look as if he thought he was insane.

"She's an Argent. She's with them."

Derek didn't need to say the name, we all knew who he was talking about. Allison. Her family were the hunters. They were the ones who shot Derek. Scott could get close, get the bullet, and help save his life.

But none of that seemed to matter to Scott. Allison was more important to him than Derek. "Why should I help you?"

"Because you need me." Derek's answer was simple, and true. Without him we would have no chance at getting rid of the Alpha.

Knowing this- and wanting to help him anyway- I turned to give Scott a desperate and pleading look. "Please."

Looking from me, to Derek and then back, Scott sighed. "Fine, I'll try." Shaking his head, clearly annoyed, he turned his attention to Stiles. "Get him out of here."

"I hate you for this, so much." Stiles mumbled as he turned the car on before driving off.

While passing Scott, I gave him a thankful look. Derek may be a little hard to handle at times. He was closed off, hard and could be rude. But he was the only other person we knew of that could help and understand Scott and I, and that meant something to me.

Still seated in the back of Stiles' Jeep as he drove down the road, I helped Derek pull his jacket off, seeing him struggle to do the simple act on his own. Once one arm was out my attention was caught by Stiles' chiming phone.

"Is it Scott? What did he say?" I asked as I helped Derek with his other arm.

Sighing, Stiles put his phone away. "He needs more time."

"I don't think we have much time left." I noted right as Derek groaned, proving my point.

Glancing at us in the rear-view mirror, Stiles look unsure and a little queasy. "Try not to bleed out on my seats, okay?"

I quickly shot him a glare. "Really?"

He simply shrugged before adding, "We're almost there."

"Almost where?" Derek asked, though it was evidently hard. His head fell against my shoulder, his breaths coming out shallow and short.

"Your house." Stiles answered.

Derek's head shot up to look at him. "What? No, you can't take me there."

"I can't take you to your own house?"

"Not when I can't protect myself." Derek noted.

Reaching forward, I brushed some hair behind his ear, feeling his heated skin against my fingertips. "He's right, he can't be left alone." Derek turned to look at me briefly as he leaned back. "I could stay with him." I offered.

Stiles watched us as he continued to drive along the road. There was a look in his eyes, as if he didn't like what he was seeing. "No." He shook his head. "I'm not leaving you with him."

"Then what are we supposed to do, Stiles?" I snapped at him, feeling like our already limited options were thinning out.

Shaking his head, Stiles pulled the Jeep over. Unbuckling his belt, he turned around to look at Derek. "What happens if Scott doesn't find your little magic bullet? Hmm? Are you dying?"

"Not yet. I have a last resort." Derek assured us. Though it did nothing to ease me of the panicking worry settling in my bones.

"What do you mean? What last resort?" Stiles asked, incredulous and clearly agitated. As Derek pulled the sleeve of his shirt up his arm, revealing the bullet wound, Stiles turned away. "Oh, my God! What is that? Oh, is that contagious? You know what, you should probably just get out."

I sighed at him, trying to control my gag reflex as the stench of Derek's wound filled my nose. "Stiles, I really need you to shut up right now. Okay?"

Without giving Stiles a moment to respond, Derek looked over at him. "Start the car. Now." It was an order.

Stiles' jaw dropped out of shock. He quickly recovered, refusing to do as he was told. "I don't think you should be barking orders with the way you look. Okay? In fact, I think if I wanted to, I could probably drag your little werewolf ass out into the middle of the road and leave you for dead." He threatened.

I'm not entirely sure what came over me, but the tone he was using, and the fact that he'd threatened Derek, had the animal part of my stick its head up. I felt a low growl place itself on the edge of my lips, waiting to be pushed out. There was a need scratching at my surface, telling me to protect Derek even though I knew Stiles wasn't a threat- and that he was my friend more than the man beside me.

Though I apparently didn't need to say or do anything, because Derek could handle himself- even in the state he was in.

"Start the car, or I'm gonna rip your throat out… with my teeth." He warned.

Just like that, Stiles spun back around and turned the car back on before he drove off once more.

With nowhere to go, Stiles had driven us around until the sun had set. Time had easily ticked by. The darker is got, the worse Derek appeared. I could smell him more than I could before as well. Things were not looking good.

It had taken a while, but Stiles had eventually managed to get Scott on the phone. As he spoke to my brother I continued to sit in the back with Derek, his head half resting on my shoulder and half resting on the back of the seat.

"What am I supposed to do with him?" Stiles asked Scott before he let out a short and annoyed sigh. "And by the way, he's starting to smell. Like death." He noted, his description not too far off the truth. There was a pause before he turned to me. "What about your boss?" He asked, still talking to my brother.

Having an idea of what they were talking about, I answered. "He'll be gone by now. And I have a key to get in."

Sighing once more, Stiles shook his head as he handed the phone to Derek.

"Did you find it?" Derek asked my brother once he had the phone. There was a pause before he spoke again. "Look, if you don't find it, then I'm dead, all right?"

I hadn't really spent a lot of time with Derek, we weren't close- at all. But I knew that without him things could get more complicated than they already were. I didn't want that, and I certainly didn't want to deal with the Alpha without him.

"Then think about this." He started, still talking to Scott. "The Alpha called you and your sister out against your will. He's gonna do it again. Next time, you either kill with him or you get killed. So if you want to stay alive, then you need me. Find the bullet." With that, he hung up.

As I helped keep Derek on his feet while Stiles moved to unlock the back door, my best friend's door chimed.

Pulling it from his phone, Stiles read the message before turning to Derek. "Does Nordic blue monkshood mean anything to you?"

"It's a rare form of wolfsbane." Derek sighed as he tried to stand as much as possible, not wanting too much help from me. I got the feeling he didn't like relying on other people. "He has to bring me the bullet."

Stiles frowned, confused. "Why?"

"Because I'm gonna die without it." Derek answered simply.

We could not let him die. Without him Scott and I were domed. We needed him to help us control our new impulses and behaviours, and we needed him to help us deal with the hunters and Alpha. So, there was no way we could let him die.

"Stiles, open the door!" I snapped, an urgency in my voice.

Eyes wide, Stiles quickly turned and unlocked the door before he held it open for Derek and me to enter. I led us for the back room in the clinic where we brought the animals in for their checkups and surgeries. Once inside I moved Derek over to the sterile metal table in the middle of the room so he could lean against it.

"Okay." Stiles was right behind us, turning the light on.

Breathing heavily, Derek moved to pull his shirt off. Seeing him struggle, I stepped forward without even thinking, and helped him strip the top off, leaving his top half bare.

We could see the wound more clearly now that there was nothing covering it and the lights were on… and it did not look good. The veins going up and down his arm were dark, almost black, and were pressing against the skin. Not only that, but the wound itself wouldn't stop bleeding.

"You know, that really doesn't look like anything some Echinacea and a good night's sleep couldn't take care of." Stiles commented, clearly hating the position he is in.

Ignoring him, Derek looked away from his arm as his eyes set on the cabinet behind me. "When the infection reaches my heart, it'll kill me." Pushing off the table, he moved to search through the cupboards.

"Positivity just isn't in your vocabulary, is it?" Stiles noted sarcastically.

I shot him a quick glare, warning him to keep quiet. Usually, I loved Stiles' incessant sarcasm and snark, but now was not the time.

Moving over to Derek, I stood by his side, watching as he continued to search for something. "What do you need? I can help you."

"If Scott doesn't get here with the bullet in time, last resort…"

"Which is?" Stiles asked, standing on the other side of the room, keeping his distance.

Opening one last draw, Derek pulled out what he'd been looking for. A medical saw. "You're gonna cut off my arm." He placed the saw on the table and slid it across to him.

Holly crap…

In shock, Stiles lifted the saw as he eyed it, and pressed the button to turn it on before quickly putting it back down. "Oh, my God! What if you bleed to death?" He asked as Derek tied something around his arm.

"It'll heal if it works."

I scoffed, shaking my head, feeling my panic grow even more. "If it works? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"She's right, dude." Stiles groaned, looking away from Derek's arm which was right in front of him. "Look, I don't know if I can do this."

"Why not?" Derek asked as if he wasn't asking someone to saw off his arm.

"Well, because of the cutting through the flesh, the sawing of the bone, and especially the blood!" Stiles snapped, having very good points.

Sighing, Derek looked away from tying his arm and turned to Stiles. "You faint at the sight of blood?" the way he said it was as if that had to be the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard.

"No. But I might at the sight of a chopped-off arm!" Stiles countered, once again having a good point.

"All right, fine. How about this? Either you cut off my arm, or I'm gonna cut off your head." Derek threatened, despite the fact that he looked like he was about to pass out any second now.

"Okay, first of all, why can't Angie do it? Secondly, I'm so not buying your threats anymore."

Before Stiles could take a breath, Derek reached over, grabbed him by the shirt, and pulled him closer. He didn't need to say anything, the action and look in his eyes was enough to convince Stiles that even on the brink of death, Derek would still have no issues hurting him.

"Oh, my God! Okay. All right, bought, sold, totally, I'll do it. I'll do it." Stiles nodded, unable to fight off Derek's grip.

Out of nowhere Derek started to move as if he was on the verge of throwing up. He fought back gags and coughs as he quickly leaned over the table and away from Stiles and me. Then he let it all out.

Stiles and I watched the black liquid spew from Derek's mouth and onto the floor.

"Oh, God!" I pulled back a little, smelling the stench of the liquid already. It smelt like rotting meat juice… "What the hell is that?"

"It's my body, it is trying to heal itself." Derek explained, leaning against the table, finding it hard to keep himself up.

"Well, it's not doing a very good job of it." Stiles noted.

"Now," Derek looked up at him, "you gotta do it now."

When Stiles hesitated, his eyes darting from the saw to Derek's arm, I knew he wouldn't be able to do it. If he did, I knew he'd never get over it- though who would. I also knew, that despite how gross and dangerous sawing someone's arm off was, if it didn't get done Derek would die.

Like I said before, I couldn't let Derek die. So, if that meant I had to step up and do this, then I would. Although, I doubted I would ever be the same afterwards.

"I'll do it."

Moving around the table, I came to stand next to Stiles as I grabbed the saw, took a breath, and rested it against Derek's flesh, right below the tie around his arm.

"Oh, God…" Stiles turned his head and covered his eyes, but he couldn't help himself, he peaked through his fingers, watching the saw. "Oh, my God. All right, here we go!"

"Stiles?"

Everything froze at the sound of a new voice.

Lowering his hand from his face, Stiles looked to the door that led to the front of the clinic. "Scott?"

A second or so later, Scott walked around the corner and into the room. His eyes landed on the saw in an instant. "What the hell are you doing?"

Chuckling lightly as he let out a relieved breath, Stiles shook his head at my brother. "Oh, you just prevented a lifetime of nightmares."

I rolled my eyes at him, setting the saw down. "I was the one about to cut off his arm."

Getting to business, Derek looked to Scott as he continued to lean against the table. "Did you get it?"

Quickly reaching into his pocket, Scott pulled the bullet out and handed it over to the older man. Pulling himself up, Derek eyes the bullet, swaying on the spot ever so slightly.

"What are you gonna do with it?" Stiles asked as we all watched Derek, waiting to see what happens next.

"I'm gonna…" Before he could finish, Derek's eyes fluttered closed as he fell to the ground with a loud thud.

"Derek!" I hurried over to kneel by his side as the bullet slipped from his grasp.

Scott dived for the bullet. "No, no, no. No!" But before he could grab it, it rolled under a cabinet and into the drain underneath.

As Scott tried to pry the bullet out Stiles and I knelt by Derek, trying to shake him back to consciousness. Though nothing seemed to work. It was beginning to look like the end…

No. No, not you. Not now. We can't lose you. We need you. I thought to myself as I shook his shoulders harder.

The wolf inside me scratched at the surface. My panic and worry had already woken it up, but now that everything had intensified I could feel my animal instincts wanted to push through.

"Scott, what the hell are we gonna do?" Stiles asked my brother, clearly just as concerned as me- or at least almost as concerned.

"I don't know!" Scott snapped, still trying to reach the bullet. "I can't reach it."

Stiles reached forward to slap Derek's face slightly, not wanting to hurt him but needing to do something. But it didn't work. "He's not waking up!" He called to Scott. "I think he's dying… I think he's dead."

"Just hold on!" Scott yelled back, not needing to be reminded of the urgency of the situation. Taking a deep breath, he relaxed a little, trying to get better control of the situation… "I got it! I got it!"

Taking a deep breath, I silently apologised to Derek in advanced before I reached over and pressed my hand right where he's been shot… hard.

He sat up suddenly, letting out a cry of pain. Clutching his arm, he looked over to Scott. "Give me that."

I helped Derek to his feet as Scott handed him the bullet. Moving back to the table, I kept Derek standing as he used his teeth to break the bullet apart before emptying the insides of it- including the wolfsbane- onto the table.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a lighter and set the wolfsbane alight. Blue smoke wafted off the herb until it burned out. Grabbing what was left, Derek set it in the palm of the hand on his good arm, took a breath, and then pressed it into the bullet wound.

He let out a pained scream as he pushed the wolfsbane into his arm. I lost my grip on him as he fell back down on the ground, screaming and growling as the herb did whatever he hoped it would do.

Scott, Stiles and I watched the black veins on his arm disappear, leading towards the bullet hole, before the wound itself healed completely, leaving no trace of what had happened.

"That was awesome!" Stiles exclaimed. "Yes!"

Ignoring his friend, Scott watched Derek as he pulled himself back up. "Are you okay?"

Derek look to my brother with annoyed and irritated eyes. "Except for the agonising pain?"

"I'm guessing the ability to use sarcasm is a good sign of health." Stiles noted, excitement gone. His commented earned him a hard glare from Derek which had both Stiles and Scott stepping back.

Stepping forward, I rested a hand on his upper arm, making sure he was one hundred percent okay. The wound might be healed, but I wasn't convinced it was over.

I wasn't sure why, but I wasn't afraid of Derek. Even with all his threats and abilities, I felt no needed to be scared of him.

Surprisingly, Derek didn't pull away from me as I looked his arm over, making sure he was okay. In fact, his glare melted away as he watched me check him.

Part of me wanted to look up, to meet his eyes. I couldn't deny the fact that I was attracted to Derek. I had been from the moment I saw him- which was odd because I'd never liked a guy before. The fact he was shirtless and no longer on the brink of death made it harder for me to fight the urge to eye him…

Scott spoke up then, bringing me back to reality. "Okay, we saved your life, which means you're gonna leave us alone. You got that?" He told Derek. "All of us." I had a feeling he added the last part because of me… "And if you don't, I'm gonna go back to Allison's dad, and I'm gonna tell him everything."

Derek's attention snapped to my brother. "You're gonna trust them? You think that can help you?"

"Why not?" Scott shrugged as if he saw no fault in his threat. "They're a lot freaking nicer than you are!"

Scoffing, Derek nodded. "Yeah, I can show you exactly how nice they are."

Following Derek down the halls of the long-term care facility, Scott and I were silent, wondering what the hell we were doing here. When Derek said he'd show us how dangerous the Argents were, I thought he'd take us back to his house or something. Never would I have guessed that we'd end up here.

Opening the door to one of the rooms, Derek walked in and came to a stop in the middle of the space as Scott and I moved to stand beside him.

In front of us was an unmoving and silent man. He was sitting in a wheelchair, dressed in hospital clothes. His dark hair was thick and brushed, but it looked as if someone else had done it. His blue eyes stared straight ahead, without looking at anything. He looked dead… maybe even plastic. It was eerie…

But at the same time, I felt something scratching at my insides. It was different to the other times the wolf had made its presence known. I couldn't describe it, but I felt a new need… and a connection to the unknown man.

"Who is he?" Scott asked before I had the chance to.

"My uncle." Derek answered, his eyes looking over the man before him. "Peter Hale."

Scott waited a moment before asking, "Is he… like you? A werewolf?"

"He was. Now he's barely even human." Derek noted.

I decided that the 'connection' I felt with Peter must be because he was a werewolf. Maybe I could feel it? Maybe my wolf knew he was hurt and it felt for him? Maybe it was because he was related to Derek and I could sense it?

"Six years ago, my sister and I were at school." Derek started. "Our house caught fire. Eleven people were trapped inside. He was the only survivor."

"So what makes you so sure that they set the fire?"

Derek scoffed, shaking his head. "'Cause they're the only ones that knew about us." He looked to Scott.

"Then they had a reason." Scott shrugged.

I couldn't believe what he was saying. "Nothing excuses this." I gestured to Peter. "And just remember, you and I are werewolves too, Scott."

"She's right." Derek nodded beside me before reaching for his uncle. "Nothing justifies this." he turned Peter's chair around, revealing the half-burnt face we hadn't been able to see before.

The skin on the right side of Peter's face was red and slightly swollen and angry. It looked like many layers of skin had been burnt away, stripped from him, leaving an ugly scar.

"They say they'll only kill an adult and only with absolute proof. But there were people in my family that were perfectly ordinary in that fire. This is what they do." Derek gestured to his uncle. "And it's what Allison will do."

Bamby

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writinggeisha · 6 years

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Shakespeare said “The eyes are the window to your soul.” When he first coined the phrase, it was considered deep and meaningful. It was, and still is, but you’d better not use it in your writing. Nowadays it’s considered cliché, even though Shakespeare’s premise has withstood the test of time.

Beware of clichés.

If a word or phrase seems like a cliché, it probably is. Look it up in a thesaurus or dictionary and mull over what it means. With a little effort, you can create an alternative that readers will remember.

Check Google, remembering to use quote marks around phrases. If you find 500,000 instances of baby-blue eyes, it’s overused. However, 6,000 results for hyacinth-blue eyes is encouraging. Try jellyfish-blue eyes. Even more promising.

Every cliché started its journey as a memorable phrase. Readers loved it and repeated it, others joined them, and so on … and so on …

Why should you concentrate on eyes?

Eyes broadcast emotions. A person might be able to hide a smirk or pout behind a hand, but the micro-movements of the eyes, eyelids, and brows will usually reveal the truth behind an emotionless face.

That’s part of the reason authors focus (pun intended) on eyes: eye colors, eye movements, arching brows, blinks and winks, and crow’s feet, to name a few. Can you hope to create something new and memorable when millions of writers are trying to do the same?

Yes.

View the adjectives and descriptions in this post, and utilize them as seeds.

Ready to go?

Consider color.

How often will readers tolerate emerald-green orbs, bottomless pools of blue, or doe-brown eyes?

Once.

Your task is to connect with your readers, not to bore them with the same-old, same-old.

While you search for inspiration, remember that nobody has irises of a single color. Go to YouTube, Google Images, or your favorite clip art sites. Scrutinize close-ups. You’ll notice a blend of colors that when viewed from a distance seem uniform.

The closer your protagonists move to one another, the more detail they’ll be able to notice in eyes. The description of an intimate encounter or a face-to-face meeting of enemies can intensify by describing the passion or fire with colors and patterns.

Start with basic hues such as those in the following list. Then add flecks, streaks, or speckles of a different color.

Blue Baby blue, blue-jay blue, bluebell, blueberry, bluebird, bruise blue, china blue, cornflower blue, crystal blue, denim, electric blue, forget-me-not blue, gunmetal blue, ice blue, indigo, lagoon, lake, laser blue, lilac blue, lobelia blue, ocean, river, robin’s-egg blue, sapphire, sky blue, steel blue, ultramarine

Black Anthracite, coal black, crow black, ebony, grease black, ink, jet, leather, metal, midnight, night black, obsidian, oil-slick black, onyx, pitch black, raven, sable, smoky, sooty, spider, velvet black

Brown Acorn, almond, amber, auburn, autumn, Bambi, beige, brandy, bronze, buckeye, camel, champagne, chestnut, chocolate, cognac, cookie, copper, cork, desert-sand brown, drab, ecru, espresso, fawn, football brown, ginger, golden, hazel, honey, kiwi, loam, mahogany, maroon, muddy, nut brown, peanut, pigskin brown, rust, sepia, sienna, taffy, tan, taupe, tawny, teddy-bear brown, topaz, tourmaline, umber, walnut, wheat, whiskey

Grey Aluminum, ash, battleship, boulder, carbon, cement grey, charcoal grey, cloud grey, crater grey, dove, elephant, exhaust, granite, graphite, gravel, gunmetal grey, iron, knife, lead, leaf green, mercury, meteor, mummy, nail, nickel, pepper, pewter, pigeon, rat, sea green, shadow, shovel, silver, slate, slug, smoke, steel, stone, stormy, tank, sword, wax

Green Army, artichoke, asparagus, avocado, blue green, bottle green, camouflage green, cat’s-eye green, chartreuse, clover, cyan, electric, emerald, fern, forest green, grass green, jade, jelly, jasper, leaf green, LED green, lime, mint, moss, neon, olive, pear, Perrier-bottle green, pine, sea green, shamrock, spring green, tea green, teal, viridian, yellow green

Once again, consider the basics and mold them for your purposes.

How else could you describe almond-shaped eyes? Bloodshot or filmy eyes?

We are all born with specific eye shapes, but a protagonist might have plastic surgery to change that. Plot twist?

Why would eyes become bloodshot or filmy? Sub plot.

A Allergic, almond, astigmatic

B Beady, bloodshot, bulging

C Cat-like, clear, cross-eyed

D Deep-set

E Elliptical, elongated

F Farsighted, feline, filmy

G Gimlet-eyed, goggle-eyed

M Moon-eyed, myopic

N Nearsighted

O Obscured by cataracts, oriental, oval, owlish

P Pale, pink

R Rheumy, ruddy, round

S Sensitive, shark-like, shortsighted, slanted, slitted, sloe-eyed, sunken

T Tired, twenty-twenty vision

U Unresponsive

W Wall-eyed, watery, wide

Eyelids might be:

Crinkled, folded, heavy, hooded, monolid, raw, swollen, wrinkled

Or maybe they’re almost invisible.

Did you remember the lashes?

Eyelashes could be:

Dark, dense, full, long, lush, luxurious, pale, sparse, sweeping, thick

Some men have eyelashes that rival those of a make-up model. How would that make them feel?

Brows enhance descriptions.

Try these adjectives:

Angled, arched, aristocratic, bestial, boomerang, burly, bushy, dark, dramatic, drawn on, elegant, fierce, full, heavy, knitted, level, painted, plucked, raised, refined, satanic, sparse, straggling, straight, sweeping, thin, triangular, tufted, wing-like, wispy

Eyes and brows move.

Verbs to show motions of eyes, gazes, lashes, and brows include:

A Anchor on, assess

B Bat, blink

C Caress, cock, cruise

D Devour, dip, drill

F Flay, flicker, flutter, focus, follow

I Inspect, inventory

L Lie still, lift, linger, lower

M Meander

N Narrow

P Peruse, probe, pry

R Raise, rake

S Scan, search, shift, shoot, sight, slam shut, squeeze shut, stray

T Tilt, track, travel, tremble

U Unglue

W Wander, wink, wrench away

Does your protagonist wear glasses or use other eye-assist devices?

Few people have perfect eyesight, but it might not be obvious nowadays with wide access to contact lenses and laser surgery. Exploit poor vision to produce hurdles for your protagonists. For example, they could lose contact lenses in embarrassing places or experience side effects of laser surgery; or they might use eye-assist devices to view things at a distance.

Consider the multitude of props you can use for your characters. Here are a few:

Bifocals, contact lenses, glasses, goggles, horn-rimmed glasses, lorgnette, lorgnon, loupe, monocle, opera glasses, pince-nez, progressive lenses, spectacles, sunglasses

Also see Other Ways to Say “Roll the Eyes” and 125 Ways to Say “Look” (as in “to See”).

But maybe you want a single word or phrase.

If you need a list of straightforward adjectives, try these on for size. Many of the words will break the Show, Don’t Tell rule, but they might be exactly what you need when trying to cut words.

A Angry, anxious, astute, avid

B Beseeching, bewildered, blank, blazing, bright, bug-eyed, burning

C Chaotic, chilly, close-set, cold, come-hither, commanding, cool, crystal

D Dancing, dazzling, dead, demonic, disapproving, discerning, disdainful, disoriented, dispassionate, dissatisfied, drowsy, dull

E Emotionless

F Fierce, fiery, flashing, flat, flickering, frigid, frightened

G Gleaming, glinting, glistening, glittering, glowing, gooey, guileless

H Hard, hollow, hooded

I Icy, impassive, imploring, innocent, intelligent, intense, intent, inviting, iridescent, irritated

J Judicious

L Lecherous, lifeless, limpid, liquid, luminescent, lustrous

M Magnetic, mellow, mocking, monstrous, murky, mysterious

N Narrowed, numb

O Oily, opalescent

P Penetrating, piercing, prominent

Q Quick, quiet

R Remorseful, riveting

S Sardonic, saturnine, seductive, sexy, sharp, shimmering, shining, shiny, shrewd, skeptical, sleepy, slick, small, snapping, sneaky, soft, sparkling, squinting, steely, stretched, striking, surprised, sympathetic

T Twinkling

U Unreadable, unwavering

V Velvet

W Warm, wide-set, wild

#links #tools #advice #word lists

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douchebagbrainwaves · 5 years

Text

WORK ETHIC AND DEVELOPMENT

It has for me. But if you're in the inexperienced but earnest majority, the solution is analogous to the solution I recommend for pitching your startup: do the right thing and then just tell investors what you're doing, you're now on a path to dominating a large market. If you're not, you'll just end up in an uncanny valley. If there's something wrong with the senator's argument, you should do it in such a way that a distributed algorithm protects you from processors that fail. Most companies in a position to say this is the Bambi version; in simplifying the picture, I've also made everyone nicer. I'd bet not.1 What investors would like to do, why it's a good thing for investors that this is so, because if you could know in advance whether a startup would succeed, the stock price would already be the future price, and there was no such thing as a freelance programmer. By giving names to the different forms of disagreement. The other half, the younger half, will complain that this is so. Others skip phase 1 and go straight to phase 2. Companies that are successful at raising money in phase 2 sometimes tack on a few investors after leaving fundraising mode.

But if you get a lot of the money in VC funds comes from their endowments.2 At the very least, that worry will now be out in the same spirit. The problem is, it's hard not to let it go to your head. Another startup might have needed a database guy, or someone with connections in the movie business. He didn't say anything, but I feel obliged at least to try. Palo Alto is not so bad, the kids adopt an attitude of waiting for college. If moving up the disagreement hierarchy doesn't give us is a way to answer the question, can you afford not to? In a society of serfs and warlords, certainly, variation in income is a sign of a company, that implicitly establishes a value for it. It's very dangerous to let the market do it for you. Especially since tone is so hard to judge. An example that will be familiar to a lot of interest, but by default the valuation you got from the first conversation to wiring the money, and partly because the disasters of the twentieth century; now the trend seems to be hard for most people to write in spoken language, you'll be telling the truth when you tell investors it's worth investing in, you'll have to guess what the eventual equity round valuation might be. A hundred years ago, startups raising money in phase 2 will be the money burning a hole in your pocket, but I don't believe it.

Your target market has to be capturable by you. What kind of anti-dilution protection do they want? Conversely, never let pitching draw you into bullshitting. The other half, the younger half, will complain that this is old news. I already know what the reaction to this essay will be. But if capital gains rates vary, you move assets, not yourself, so changes are reflected at market speeds. One is that it will help them to see through intellectually dishonest arguments. He still planned to work there for life. After ten weeks' work the three friends have built a prototype that gives one a taste of what their product will do. Fundraising only seems a puzzle because it's an alien world to most founders, because most founders wouldn't be able to get better.

A society that trims its margins sharply will kill them all. Back when life was more precarious, people used to be aware of death to a degree that would now seem a bit morbid. How much someone's work is worth is not a lot of money—so does IBM, for that matter. The best sort of job is a consulting project in which you could easily surpass Silicon Valley is public transportation. Informal language is the athletic clothing of ideas. There continued to be bribes, as there still are everywhere, but politics had by then been left to men who were driven more by vanity than greed. It wasn't because they weren't accredited investors that I didn't ask my parents for seed money, though. Ruby: Perl is a kludge, and Lisp syntax is scary.3

It's hard to give general advice about this, because there have been cases of startups that kept trying to raise $250k.4 And when you convince them, use the same matter-of-fact language you used to convince yourself. If you have additional expenses, like manufacturing, add in those at the end of month six, the system is starting to have a casual conversation with investors that stays casual, it's safer to tell them that number. Investors don't expect you to collect all that money, but it's an upper bound on how big you can get back to them when you're fundraising; but do not get sucked down the slippery slope. The rule of doing breadth first search weighted by expected value, and accept offers greedily. A lot of the money you need. It now seems inevitable that applications will live on the web—not just email, but everything built since is the worst sort of strip development.5 It is a truth universally acknowledged? I think the opposite is happening. Every startup's rule should be: spend little, and work fast. Seed firms will probably have set deal terms they use for every startup they fund.6 Modula: Pascal is too wimpy for systems programming.

There are more dangerous things than that. Which almost always means hiring too many people. This stops with VC-scale money. This is probably the first you've founded. Top actors make a lot of people to start startups who shouldn't. I could see India one day producing a rival to Silicon Valley. Because fundraising is so distracting, a startup has a harder task: they have to deliver every time. And he could help them because he was one of the biggest IPOs of the decade?

Zooming out and seeing his current position on the disagreement hierarchy doesn't give us is a way to develop a product, is that they make you spend time on things that matter. As indeed they often are. That doesn't mean people are getting angrier. People overvalue stability—especially young people, who ironically need it least.7 I don't want to give the appearance of legitimate refutation, then follow with a response as low as DH3 or even DH0. Imaginative people don't want to follow or lead. And if you want.

Seed firms and angel investors. Some investors will let you email them a business plan, addressing the five fundamental questions: what they're going to do, or by taxing them away, as some modern governments have done, the result always seems to be the same. If you ask at that age, people will choose conservatively. Technology should increase the gap between the productive and the unproductive. So they tend to be suspicious of rich people. And yet he seems pretty commanding, doesn't he?8 This is not as bad as it sounds. That's how it tricks you. The biggest factor in most investors' opinions of you is the opinion of other investors to make money, and much larger amounts of it.

Notes

That should probably fix. In practice their usefulness is greatly enhanced by other people think, but except for that might work is merely unglamorous, not widening. And starting an organic farm, though, because any story that makes you much more dangerous than any of the Facebook that might be an open source project, but starting a startup is rare. The meaning of distribution.

Quoted in: Life seemed so much in the woods. One sign of the Italian word for success.

There are lots of others followed. Good and bad measurers.

Predecessors like understanding seem to be started in New York, but countless other startups must have faces in them, initially, were ways to do better, for example.

Your Brain, neurosurgeon Frank Vertosick recounts a conversation in which case this behavior at least for those founders. Strictly speaking it's impossible without a time of its users, not an associate. The company is always room for another.

Corollary: Avoid starting a startup to be sharply differentiated. 39 says that 15-20% of the companies fail, most of them. I should add that none who read this essay, I mean forum in the median total compensation, including salary, bonus, stock grants, and configure domain names etc.

Software companies can even be symbiotic, because such companies need huge numbers of users to succeed in business by doing another round that values the company, and b was popular in Germany, where x includes math, law, writing and visual design. Galbraith p. But there seem to be the more educated ones usually reply with some axe the audience already has to convince at one remove: it has to convince limited partners. But the Wufoos are exceptionally disciplined.

The problem with most of the twentieth century, Europeans looked back on industrialization at the end of World War II. I can't predict which lies future generations will consider inexcusable, I asked some founders who are weak in other Lisp features like lexical closures and rest parameters.

Thanks to Sam Altman, Paul Buchheit, Jessica Livingston, Anton van Straaten, Robert Morris, and Stephen Wolfram for inviting me to speak.

#automatically generated text #Markov chains #Paul Graham #Python #Patrick Mooney #friends #founders #questions #amounts #world #lot #taste #changes #nicer

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