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igotathingforvampires · 3 years

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Anon Ask | Caius Volturi x F!Witch Reader: Punishments

Canon Divergent Dora is true mated to Renata because I <3 Renata Fight Me

Reader is a Witch.

You are a human. Who managed because of a latent heritage of being a Witch to wander past Heidi into the Throne Room thinking it’s a tour.

You’re not stupid, you walk right in and get near the dais and look around and realize that this is not just a tour.

Sighing, you glance around and face palm. “Ahhhhhh Fuck My Life.”

The Kings of Volterra are eyeing you with amusement.

You sigh, and glare UP at the throne of a very, very gorgeous almost elfin, platinum haired King who’s GLARING back at you with a raised brow and a scowl.

“So ah do I get to pick who offs me?”

All vampires just PAUSE.

“Because okay, if I’m gonna die.” You point at Caius. “That one. You. You’ve got dibs Sir.”

Caius is Shooketh.

This little human has got some guts.

He hates humans. HATES humans.

So why when he snatches you up and you just look at him with those big eyes, and a small smile “just make it quick hm?”

You wait, eyes closed.

Caius pauses, growling and suddenly NOPE you’re picked up and ZOOM.

Aro: The fuck just happened?

You’re tucked away in his inner sanctuary of his rooms, sat down on a chair. “Sit RIGHT here human. If you move I shall be displeased, you won’t like what happens if you make me angry.”

“Uhhhhhh kay.”

Caius goes and feeds and after he sits amongst his brothers. “I’m keeping it.” He growls

Turns out he can keep you because you’re not human! YAY!

“So am I like a bunny.”

“Less than a Rabbit you’re human.” Caius would growl at you.

“Mmmkay.”

How things Go:

You are the chillest bitch to ever chill. Life has not been great, in fact it’s been a horror show, Aro of course sees this and he scolds Caius for treating you like a piece of furniture rather than a person.

Aro knows you’re just feeling Caius out, watching because there are moments— the very few moments— when he is oh so gentle.

You shiver, a blanket is flung at your face. “My luck you’d catch pneumonia.”

Your tummy rumbles, the chef brings a five star meal. “I don’t need you dying.”

You’re bored, suddenly you’re in front of the TV and given access to ALL the shows. “You’re being a pest.”

Aro also knows your temper is starting to appear the more Caius pushes you away.

Caius isn’t sure what to even do with you— he is FEELING things, things he’s never even felt with Dora. And Dora is berating him alongside Marcus for being an utter nitwit.

“Cai for all your brilliance for strategy you’re an idiot in romance.” Dora says.

He knows it’s true. He’s an asshole.

And angry.

All the time. But when you’re around he’s not angry anymore.

But at one point you’re still fidgeting with your hands. “What is the problem now.”

“Ah…well…” you fidget some more, “c-can I have some water colors?”

Caius freezes. “You paint?” He seems curious.

You nod. “I do digital art but I like canvas art too!” You show him your phone of photoshop collages, watercolor, digital paintings and such.

“You do this on a computer?” He tilts his head. He hates technology. So seeing that one can create art this way is astounding to him.

“Yeah I had to sell my iPad a while ago so sadly I can’t do much right now but if I have some water colors that would be a good start!” You bounce on your feet.

You have the a massive iMac, a Wacom Cintiq 24”, an entire selection of Derwent colors and crazy amounts of canvases and anything else you might need that an artist can think of.

Caius is utterly stunned when you tackle him and kiss his cheek thanking him.

His heart explodes into confetti.

Art is how Caius communicates his gentler side. His art is beautiful, evoking deep emotions, and his hand is gentle and fluid enough in motion to capture even the most minute details.

You both grow exceptionally close, till Marcus one day pulls him aside to inform him of the Mate Bond that is between you two.

The Kiss:

You’re modeling for Caius, it’s a random request and you feel utterly embarrassed dressed in flowing robes and sprawled on a chaise lounge half hanging off, your hair spilling onto the marble floor.

You can’t quite help but notice how his gaze is pitch black and devouring you.

“M-Master Caius?”

“Caius.” He grumbles.

“Huh?”

“I think it’s about time you can call me Caius y/n.”

He can hear your heart thump an erratic beat as magic swirls in your eyes. It’s slowly been coming back to you, being cared for, like a plant long neglected, your magic has begun to grow under the tender albeit aloof care of the vampire King you’re so utterly in love with.

But you know it’s silly, there’s no way it’d work—

He’s suddenly next to you, hovering nose to nose, pulling you towards him, “you consume me.”

It’s the last thing he says for a long while as you both end up staying on that lounge for a— ahem lengthy amount of time.

Punishments:

Caius is a sadist.

But he’s a loving sadist.

He has so many kinks he doesn’t know what to do with them. And luckily for him— surprise surprise you’re kinky too.

But you tend to be mouthy. And Caius does not like when he is disobeyed. “Be a good pet and go sit.”

“But—“

“1.”

When Aro counts it’s for orgasms.

When Caius counts it’s for paddling or the crop.

Or it’s for forced orgasms and overstimulation.

The dynamic between you is quite lovely, boundaries are discussed whenever needed, although Caius can come across as gruff and uncaring, at one point during punishment play you had said your safe word rather quickly, and everything stopped. Oils, bath, rub down, talks, blankets, snuggles, and so many kisses to the forehead. “Bunny, oh my little bunny what happened?”

As someone who does not cry.

Ever.

Aro has attested to this.

It astounds Caius that you’d trust him enough to do so.

He realizes that he’s earned a trust that has not been earned by anyone in a long long time, knowing that feeling, he would never break it by overdoing things or going past your boundaries.

Punishments are talked out. Explained. Rules are fairly discussed and you ALWAYS have a say in vetoing or staying off for another day.

If it’s a topic that has yet to be discussed it is tabled, and discussed for what an appropriate response should be.

Punishments include:

Caning

Paddle

Crop (your favorite)

Being suspended and teased.

Leashed. Yes he will have you walk behind him with a leash and collar. And yes he will sit in the Library with you on a leash and your head in his lap. “Good Bunny.”

You are a very good bunny.

Caius has only had only lost his temper with you once. And never will again.

It was due to negligence on your part, you had disobeyed him when it was imperative for you to listen, not aware of the danger of a local coven’s very out of control member. “But Cai why—“

They had heard your blood sing to them.

Caius had torn the individual to pieces in a fit of utter rage before turning on you with a shout, “I told you NEVER to disobey me.” he roared at you, the energy coming off him practically feral as his eyes were murderous.

Seeing you shrink back; the fear in your gaze at him almost broke his heart when the dread kicked in as to what he had done. He had frightened you.

He was supposed to be your comfort and safety.

of course you wouldn't understand vampire's ways of doing things.

or what a singer was...you were a witch...

But before he could even think to reach for you...

You had fled.

Hidden away in Dora’s rooms you tucked yourself away in her bathroom in the tub with a blanket curled up and wept.

Dora and Sulpricia beat the shit out of Caius.

He had sat outside the door pleading with you for hours.

He knew he had utterly fucked up.

He had a horrid temper, he knew it, and the idea of you being drained dry right in front of him had been far too much for him to think of. “Y/n please talk to me. I'm so sorry please forgive me.”

You had unlocked the door with magic…. And he had merely crawled into the tub with you, curled around you underneath the blanket and held you while you cried into him and smacked at his chest. “Don’t do that ever again!!!”

“I know, I know bunny I know. Never again. I'm a bastard I know.”

You calmed down and glared at him.

“Would you like to delve out a punishment?”

You blinked, confused and then realized what he was offering.

“Yes.”

And that is how you ended up quite happy with your vampire begrudgingly, and amused sitting at your feet in your shared rooms with GOOD BOY on a thick leather collar.

Turns out Caius likes being punished too.

“Also a masochist hm?” You laugh at him and grip him by his hair.

“So it seems.” He muses kissing your knee and nudging your legs apart. “But the reward is worth it isn’t it bunny?”

#caius volturi

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feathersandfoxtails · 2 years

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I'll Keep You Warm

Pairing: Alvie/reader, gender neutral reader Rating: Teen (swearing, implied sex) Words: 5K

Summary: A chance encounter brings Alvie into your life right before Christmas.

Notes: This was originally written for Beezie's Christmas Countdown. Originally I posted 200 words per day based on daily prompts. This is the compilation of the 25 days. also please enjoy my terrible photoshops.

also on AO3

Why you decided to take that big, dumb dog with you shopping that morning, you’ll never know. But you’re certainly glad that you did. You had been cooped up with your sister’s dog while she was out of town and figured he could use a walk. Since you wanted to go to the open air markets, you didn’t think it would be a problem for him to come with.

But as you’re waiting for your coffee order, he pulls the leash out of your hand. You turn and watch him tackle a man in a red hoodie. “Reginald!” you scream after him and rush over. When you pull the giant dog off the man, you see the bagel in the dog’s mouth. “Bad dog!” You try to take the bagel away, but Reginald refuses to relinquish it. Hearing a groan, you look back at the man and find him clutching his wrist.

“Shit! Are you okay? Oh fuck, your wrist is swelling! I’ll get a cab to take you to the hospital.”

“No, no, it’s fine! I—” He winces in pain.

“I’ll pay for everything; don’t worry about it.” You flag down a cab and help him into it.

🎄

After you drop the dog off at home, you catch a cab to the hospital. Realizing you didn’t ask the man’s name, it takes a while to track him down through the emergency room. When you find him, he’s in an exam room with a bandage on his wrist.

“I’m sorry that my dog tackled you for your bagel—I swear I feed them. Anyway, I got you a balloon from the hospital gift shop.” Awkwardly, you hold out the cheery mylar balloon with Get Well Soon!imprinted on it.

He takes it. “Thanks. And it’s cool, really.”

“How’s your wrist?”

“Sprained. Doc said it’ll be fine in like a week.”

“Again, I am so sorry. I mean it—I’ll pay for everything. It’s not even my dog—he’s my sister’s.”

“He looked cute. Can’t blame him for wanting that bagel—it was a really good one.”

“There’s a bagel shop around the corner. They have these seasonal gingerbread bagels. Can I take you there once you get released?”

He gives you a wide, goofy grin and you’re struck with the thought that he’s certainly cute.

“Yeah. Totally.”

You tell him your name.

“Juan Alvarez, but everybody calls me Alvie.”

🎄

You and Alvie walk to a bench near the Christmas market, his balloon tied to his wrist.

“Wow, this is even better than the bagel your dog stole! You should save a bite for him.”

You laugh. “No way! After he injured you, Reggie doesn’t deserve a treat.”

Alvie waves his hand. “I don’t blame him. Dogs do their thing. Plus, I got to meet you, so that’s nice. Because you’re really nice.”

“Thanks, I think you’re nice, too.” You can feel your cheeks heating up and you take a bite of your bagel to hide it.

“I love just watching people go by, don’t you? And this time of year people seem happier than normal. Though I guess some of them are kinda stressed.”

“Yeah, the holidays can be hard for some people. Do you have family around?”

“Nah, just me. My mom died when I was little and my dad split before that. You have a sister?”

You nod. “Haley. And my nephew, Theo. He’s seven.”

He bounces up. “Look at these! Would he like a stuffie?” He holds one out to you.

You gasp. “I love penguins! They’re just so round and cute.”

“Then this one’s yours.”

🎄

“I still don’t think that dog deserves anything after spraining your wrist!”

“Of course Reginald needs a present, too—don’t be ridiculous!” Alvie holds up the stocking filled with dog toys and treats.

You smile and add it to the pile of gifts you’ve bought for your sister and nephew.

“Oh, this would be perfect for Three Kings Day!” You turn around and see Alvie wearing an ornate crown. When he strikes a pose, you laugh and almost drop the presents.

“Let me help you carry those.”

“You’ve only got one good arm!” Finding yourself not wanting your time with Alvie to end, you say, “But if you’re up for it, I could use help wrapping these…”

“That would be fun! I just gotta grab my stuff quick—I can’t leave it there all day.”

You follow him to a nearby building where you wait as he goes inside. It takes you a minute to realize this is a homeless shelter.

When Alvie returns with a duffel bag and sees the look on your face, he seems embarrassed. “I’m just kinda between places right now.”

“Oh.” You’re not sure what to say, so you just lead him to your apartment.

🎄

Though Alvie is enthusiastic about wrapping, his skills leave something to be desired. So you let him curate the holiday music because you’re really enjoying watching him sing and dance around your studio apartment.

"Christmas music just makes me happy, you know?"

You look down at the gift you're working on.

"You don't like Christmas music? We can listen to something else—"

"No, I do like it. It's just that Christmas sometimes makes me a little sad because my parents aren't around anymore. I—I have depression."

He crouches beside you. "I get that feeling sometimes, too. But I’m manic so hey—we can even each other out!”

You can’t help but laugh with him.

“You on meds? They’ve helped me a lot.”

“Yeah, I am.” You bite your lip. “Is that why you stay at the shelter?”

“I been in and out of the hospital, so it’s tough to find a job.”

The idea pops into your head and out of your mouth, “Stay with me.”

“No way, I don’t wanna ruin your holidays. That’s not what you want for Christmas.”

"I don't want anything else; I want you to be here."

“Really?” You smile and nod. “Okay.”

🎄

When you come home from work, Alvie bounds in front of you, wrapped in a blanket. “I got you a present!”

He holds out a paper bag. Inside you find a sweater with a penguin on it. “It’s so cute!” you squeal.

He throws off his blanket, revealing his matching one. You laugh and change into yours.

“Thank you—I love it! But you don’t have to buy anything for me.”

“I didn’t. I just want to say thanks for letting me stay with you.”

“You didn’t… buy them?”

He bites his lip. “I thought it would make you happy.”

“Alvie, I appreciate the thought, really. But don’t steal things, okay? If you need money you can ask me.”

“I’m going to earn my own money.”

“Okay.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“No, it’s okay.”

Abruptly he lunges to hug you, holding you tightly. You smile, your chin on his shoulder.

When he lets go, you say, “Hey, I had an idea—wanna go look at all the Christmas lights?”

Alvie claps his hands. “Yes! That would be awesome!”

Walking around your neighborhood, the lights are beautiful. But not as beautiful as Alvie’s face as he takes them all in.

🎄

While you are watching a movie with Alvie, everything suddenly goes dark. You yelp and reach for Alvie’s hand.

He asks, “What happened?”

“Shit—the power must have gone out. That happens sometimes, but usually not in the winter!”

Alvie helps you gather candles and strategically place them around the apartment. “It’s kinda pretty in here.” He looks at your apprehensive face. “It’s going to be okay.”

“I know; I’m just worried about it being too cold tonight.”

“I’ll be fine; I’m used to it.” Your heart breaks a little at this comment. “We’ll pile all the blankets on top of you.”

“I don’t want you to be cold, either.” You look at the couch where he normally sleeps. “If you want—just for tonight—you could sleep in my bed. So we both stay warm enough.”

He smiles. “That sounds nice. As long as you’re all right with it.”

“Well, I suggested it,” you laugh.

Alvie brings the extra blankets and snuggles in with you. Your bodies fit together easily and you quickly drift off. When the lights come on hours later, you turn them off and return to bed. Alvie sighs contentedly and pulls you in close again.

🎄

Alvie is rolling around on the floor with your nephew, Theo, and the dog, Reginald. You stand in the kitchen with your sister, Haley, and watch the chaos.

“Okay, so you told me how you met, but how did he end up staying with you?”

“Well your dog almost broke his wrist and he didn’t have anywhere to stay…”

“Reggie is a menace, but I don’t want you to be taken advantage of.”

“I’m not, really.”

She sips her coffee and gives you a dubious look. When there is a lull in the noise, she asks, “Alvie what do you do?”

“I freestyle!”

“What’s that?”

Alvie stands up.

This dog tackled me

But I don’t blame him

Cos we both agree

That bagel was the best

In this whole damn city

Theo giggles, but your sister stares blankly.

“Damn, tough crowd.” He shrugs and joins the melee on the floor again.

“Well, he does seem to be good with kids,” Haley says.

“It’s been nice having him stay with me. He helps me around the apartment.”

“You don’t need help in that tiny place.”

“Well, then… he’s been good for my mental health.”

She takes your hand. “Just be careful.”

🎄

When you come home from work, you find Alvie hiding under a mound of blankets on the couch.

“Alvie, what’s up?” You approach slowly and sit on the couch.

“Too much paperwork.”

“What do you mean?”

An arm extends from the blankets and points to the coffee table. There are several pieces of paper and you see they’re job applications.

“Alvie, that’s great that you’re applying for jobs! Can I help you?”

The tip of his nose appears. “No, I’m giving up.”

You take one of the papers. “It looks like you got pretty far on this one.”

“Doesn’t matter; nobody wants to hire me, anyway.”

“Hey, I’m sure that’s not true.” After putting the paper back down, you wrap your arms around the Alvie-shaped blanket pile. “Come on, let’s finish these together and I can do practice interviews with you.”

Finally his face fully emerges. “Yeah?”

You nod. “Here, let’s start where you left off on this one…”

“I don’t have an address.”

“Yes, you do—you’re living here, aren’t you? Now, let’s figure out which of your past jobs are relevant to each of these.”

At last he smiles and presses his forehead against your shoulder. “Thank you.”

🎄

To celebrate dropping off Alvie's job applications, you take him to the local park that hosts winter activities every evening.

"Do you want some hot apple cider?" You point to the sign from a local brewery.

"Only if they have alcohol-free; I'm not supposed to drink with my meds."

They do, so you get two cups, watching the steam rise from them as Alvie sniffs his.

“You didn’t need to get yours without booze.”

You shrug. “I don’t need to drink to have fun.”

As you drink your cider, you watch some kids playing in the snow. Then Alvie exclaims, "Oooo, they have free ice skating!" He grabs your hand and pulls you over to the rink.

After you get skates in both your sizes, you step on the ice together. "Do you know how to skate?" you ask.

"A little. You?"

You vigorously shake your head. "Ice skating is a ridiculous thing to do-- no, do NOT let go of my hand!" You cling to Alvie to stay upright. He laughs and assures you it will be fine.

After a while you get the hang of it and glide around the rink together, Alvie never letting go of you.

🎄

You normally didn't have a Christmas tree in your little apartment, but Alvie seems so excited about the prospect that you give in. After paying a ridiculous amount of money to a nearby tree lot, he helps you get it home. Haley gives you some old ornaments and you pick up a few shiny baubles from the store.

As you wrestle with the lights, Alvie dances around to Feliz Navidad.

"Not this fucking song again!" You screech.

"But it's so good to dance to! I thought you liked it?" He pouts.

"I liked it the first couple times you played it but now it's getting old. Put on something else!"

Alvie huffs, but changes the music. You finally plug the lights in and see Alvie's brown eyes sparkle at the sight. Together you hang the ornaments all over the branches. When you finish, you make cocoa with marshmallows and sit on the couch with Alvie.

He puts his arm around you. "Looks pretty great, doesn't it?"

“Yeah, it does. But you don’t have much room in here now.” You stretch out your foot and touch a branch, the ornament on it bobbing.

“I’ll trade space for Christmas cheer any day.”

🎄

Both of you are feeling cooped up in the tiny apartment, so you go out for dinner. Knowing Alvie can't drink, you pick a family place instead of a microbrewery like you normally would.

The place is loud, but the food is good. You both order pasta and laugh at each other when you invariably get marinara on your shirts.

As you're waiting for the check, Alvie spots a claw machine in the corner. "Oooo, I'm pretty good at those!"

He runs over and fishes some crumpled bills out of his pants. After you pay the check, you join him as he's in the process of trying to catch a cute bear with a bow on it. But as soon as the claw grabs it, it drops back down.

Alvie bangs his palm against the plexiglass. “If I don’t get this teddy bear right now, I will die.”

"That's a little too dramatic for this situation."

“Whatever.” He stalks back to the table you were at, but it’s already being cleared. He looks at you. “You paid?”

You nod.

“Let me pay you back…” His pockets are empty. “Fucking claw machine.”

He stomps out of the restaurant and you follow.

🎄

You catch up to Alvie on the sidewalk. “Are you okay?”

He keeps walking and doesn’t say anything.

“Alvie…”

When he stops you move in front of him and see the tears streaming down his cheeks. He turns his face away and wipes at his nose with the back of his hand. “I’m not your charity case; I don’t want your pity.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I don’t want you to have to pay for everything, but I’m broke and useless! I can’t do anything right. I couldn’t even win a stupid teddy bear for you.” He covers his face with his palms. “Why do you even want me around?”

“Hey, I want you around because I like you.” You take his hands in yours. “You didn’t see me before—I was sad all the time and never left my apartment except to go to work. And I took so many days off because I couldn’t think of a reason to get out of bed. We’re helping each other, okay?”

He sniffs and nods. “I really need a hug.”

Wrapping your arms around him, you hold him as tightly as you can and he does the same for you.

🎄

As you're walking home, you hear someone shouting your name and see Alvie running down the sidewalk towards you.

"I got a job!!" he shouts.

"Seriously? That's awesome!" You grab his hands and swing each other around. "Which one?"

"Wrapping shipments at the candle store. It's just for the holidays, but they said they might need someone after that, so if I do well it could be longer..."

"I'm sure you'll be great at it. I'm so proud of you."

He beams and lets out a whoop before jumping on the nearby lamppost. He tries to swing on it, but he immediately loses his grip, falling into the street. You yelp and run after him as a car narrowly misses him and honks its horn.

Pulling him back onto the sidewalk, you tell him, "That was really dangerous— you're an idiot!"

He rubs his shoulder. “I know, I just got so excited. I wanted to do like a Gene Kelly move.”

“Singin’ in the Rain?”

“It used to play in the hospital all the time. Oh, I got you this. To say thanks.” He pulls a candy cane from his pocket, the hook broken. He gives you a crooked smile.

🎄

At your office Christmas party, most of your coworkers are drinking too much on top of eating a massive amount of rum cake. Why this is still a Corporate America tradition, you will never know. You brought Alvie along, both to have backup and because you never bring anyone to these parties. Everyone always gets decked out in holiday attire, so you and Alvie are wearing matching reindeer antler headbands.

“Your boyfriend’s pretty entertaining,” Linda tells you.

“Oh, he’s just my friend.”

“Of course,” she replies, but winks at you.

You find Alvie across the room, nursing a can of coke. “How are you doing?”

He smiles. “It’s all good—your coworkers are really nice.”

“They are, but I want to get out of here before they get even drunker.”

“Copy that!” He takes one last chug of his soda, then goes to find your coats.

You say goodbye, telling everyone Alvie has to work early the next day.

Outside, you take Alvie’s arm. “Thanks for being my out; parties are sometimes too much for me.”

“Any time. I had fun.”

As you walk, Alvie points out different decorations and you marvel at how his eyes sparkle in the lights.

🎄

You’ve gotten into a routine where Alvie assists you with dinner every night and it’s become your favorite part of the day.

He stares into the pot and takes a big whiff. “Wow, that smells good. I don’t even like soup… unless you make it.”

Your cheeks heat up. “So you’re liking the job?”

“Totally! Everybody there is super nice and I just get to box up candles all day long and listen to music.” He wiggles his fingers in the air. “I always do best when my hands stay busy.”

You laugh and continue stirring the soup.

“And if they keep me after the holidays, I can save up for my own place and get out of your hair.”

“Oh.” Suddenly your chest feels tight. “You can stay as long as you need to—I like having you here.”

“I know, I just don’t want to outstay my welcome.”

“You could never.”

He hugs you and you hold on longer than you normally would, taking in the feeling of his stubble against your cheek and the way he smells like wax and cinnamon. But no matter how long you hold on, Alvie always hugs you back a second longer.

🎄

Taking a nighttime walk together, you see kids having a snowball fight in the park.

“I’d totally own you in a snowball fight.”

“Oh, you think so?” Alvie scoops up some snow from the ground.

“DON’T YOU DARE.”

He just shrugs and drops the snow, wiping his wet hands on his pants.

You shiver and pull your hat further down over your ears. Alvie does the same with his.

The sidewalks are so slippery you resort to trying to slide your feet instead of taking steps. Alvie grabs your arm as he almost falls.

You shriek, “Don’t take me down with you!”

“Don’t worry—I’ll break your fall!”

You both just break down in giggles, which makes you both slip more. So now you’re clinging to each other, trying to stay upright. Soon you recover and you find yourself staring into his deep brown eyes. He gives you that beautiful lop-sided smile of his and all other thoughts leave your head. All of a sudden you’re feeling much warmer all over.

“Think we can make it home?” he whispers.

“Only if we help each other.”

You proceed to slide in time together, holding onto the other’s arm for dear life.

🎄

“Don’t you think it’s about time for a love confession?”

You nearly spit out your cocoa. “What do you mean?”

Your sister raises one eyebrow and looks towards the living room, where Alvie is helping Theo put together one of his new toys. You’re celebrating Christmas with Haley early as Theo will be spending the week with his father.

“He’s just my friend,” you say.

“More of a roommate at this point.”

Alvie and Theo are making up a Christmas rap together, and you smile at them.

“See? I see the way you look at him.”

“What? They’re being cute.”

“Alvie’s cute.”

You take another sip and don’t look at her.

“Say it. Say Alvie’s cute.”

Knowing she won’t let up, you mumble, “Alvie’s cute.”

“Hmpf. Knew it.” She looks proud of herself.

“Mom, come listen to the rap we made!” Theo calls.

Settled in the living room by the fireplace, you watch as Alvie beatboxes for Theo's rap. When they finish, you clap and holler while Theo high-fives Alvie. Then Theo jumps on his mom for a hug while Alvie sits next to you.

“That was great!”

“Thanks!” He puts his arm around your shoulders.

Haley winks at you.

🎄

“What are you making?” All sorts of craft supplies are strewn atop the coffee table. Alvie is holding a paintbrush and has a little dab of green paint on his cheek.

“Ornaments!” He holds one up that’s shaped like a bone. “This one’s for Reginald.”

“I still don’t understand why you love that dog so much.”

“He’s my buddy! Plus he basically introduced us, so I owe him.”

You laugh, but also feel warmth spread through your chest. “Who else are you making ornaments for?”

“This one’s for my old roomie, House. I have one for my cousin and one for Haley. I’m making you one, too, but you can’t see yours yet!”

“That’s fair.” You cough and blow your nose.

“Are you getting sick?” Alvie asks.

“Oh, no. I think it’s the dry air making me cough and I just came in from outside, which always makes my nose run.”

Alvie gives you a concerned look. “Well, take it easy just in case.”

“Alvie, I’m fine, really!” You cough again. “I just need some water.”

“I’ll get you some.” He goes to the kitchen.

Under some supplies you see a heart-shaped ornament and find yourself hoping it’s for you.

🎄

Alvie lifts the thermometer. “Yeah, that seems high.”

“I run hot—it’s fine.”

“Just stay here on the couch and I’ll bring you whatever you need.”

“No, I gotta get ready for work—”

“You are sick and I’m taking care of you—end of discussion. Now call work and tell them you’re not coming in.”

You can see there’s no arguing with him and your head really doesn’t feel right, so you follow his instructions.

“Do you wanna get some sleep?”

“No, let’s watch a movie. Something Christmas-y.”

“You’re the sickie, so you get to pick.”

Looking through the options, you say, “Oooo, Gremlins!”

Alvie scoffs. “That is not a Christmas movie.”

“It is so! The part where the woman opens her door and the gremlins are caroling? Christmas classic.”

“Fine. But I’m only agreeing because you’re sick.”

As the movie starts, he moves closer to you and puts a blanket over the both of you.

“Maybe keep your distance; I don’t want you to get sick, too.”

“Nah, cuddles are always nice, but especially when you’re sick.” He puts his arm around you and kisses the side of your head.

You can’t concentrate on the movie after that.

🎄

Haley brings over a bunch of festive ribbons from her craft stash for Alvie to use as ornament hangers.

“These are great; thank you so much!”

“No problem.”

Alvie bounces off to the living room.

“How are you feeling?”

You shrug. “A lot better. Thankfully it was a short cold.”

“Did your nurse make you all better?” she says suggestively.

You smack her arm and look to see if Alvie heard, but he’s engrossed in tying ribbons on his ornaments.

“Gotta run!” Haley waves and leaves.

“Which ribbon looks better with this one?” Alvie holds them up and walks towards you.

You step closer. “The blue one.”

“What’s that?” Alvie is looking above your head.

Looking up, you see mistletoe directly above you. Haley must have hung it while you were distracted.

“Uh… mistletoe?”

He looks right in your eyes and you already feel yourself melting.

“Rules are rules.” He leans in and kisses you. His lips are incredibly soft; his goatee tickles your skin. He holds his lips against yours longer than just a friendly peck.

Then he jumps up, tearing down the mistletoe. “I’m gonna hide this somewhere and surprise you.”

Running after him, you scream, “Alvie! No!”

🎄

Once you put the last batch of cookies in the oven, you head over to the couch where Alvie is curled under the blanket. He lifts it for you and you quickly jump under it. Cookies seemed like a great idea because it is so cold today that the inside of your windows have frost on them. The oven is helping keep you warm even though the heat is cranked all the way up.

“Sorry my apartment sucks so much.”

“It’s great.” Alvie glomps onto you, his arms and legs wrapped over you. You feel warmth everywhere and look up at him. “Warmer?” he asks.

You just nod, lost in those beautiful eyes. He smiles at you and nudges his nose against yours. You can hear both of your breathing change as he tilts his head and leans in closer, lips parted.

The oven timer beeps loudly and you jump up. “The cookies!” You run into the kitchen and take the cookies out, willing your heart to slow down.

As you finish putting the cookies on the cooling rack, Alvie wordlessly wraps the blanket and himself around you from behind. Leaving the oven on, you stand and eat cookies together.

🎄

After you get home from work, you plop on the couch next to Alvie. “Whoo, holiday break time!”

“What are you doing for Christmas Eve tomorrow? Are you hanging out with Haley?”

You shrug. “We talked about maybe doing lunch on Christmas Day, but that’s it. We already did our gift exchange with Theo. The years he’s at his dad’s are usually pretty low-key.”

“I haven’t given her my ornament yet.”

“Well, you can do it on Christmas Day; that will be nice.”

He fidgets. “I don’t want to be a bother to you; I can find someplace else to be for the holidays.”

“Alvie, what are you talking about?”

"You should be with who you love on Christmas. I don’t want to get in the way—"

"Maybe you're the one that I love."

Alvie’s eyes widen and you clamp your hand over your mouth.

Alvie says your name, a confused look on his face, mouth hanging open. That’s all the response you need.

You shake your head and run into your bedroom, shutting the door. A few moments later Alvie knocks, but you don’t say anything. Burying your head in your pillow, you cry until you fall asleep.

🎄

You avoid Alvie all day, only returning home when all the shops close early for Christmas Eve.

When he sees you, Alvie jumps up. “Where were you? I was worried!” He takes your hands and then looks up.

Following his eyes, you see the mistletoe. “I thought we threw that away…”

“I dug it out.” He kisses you and this time there is no mistaking it for only friendly.

Breathlessly, he asks, “Did you mean it?”

You don’t have to ask what he’s referring to. Cautiously, you nod.

His smile is the biggest and brightest you have ever seen. He kisses you again, pulling you against him.

“I was too surprised to say anything yesterday. I didn’t think there was any chance you felt the same way I did.”

Tears spring to your eyes. “Of course I do!” You take his lovely face in your hands and lose yourself in his lips.

Soon you lead him to the bedroom. You’re both tentative yet tender, learning each other’s touch and how to make one another cry out with joy.

Later as you’re falling asleep in his arms, he kisses the top of your head. “I love you,” he whispers. “Merry Christmas.”

🎄

When Haley comes over on Christmas Day, you don’t need to say anything. She knows the minute she sees both your faces.

“HA! I KNEW IT!” She does a triumphant dance while you shake your head. “Also I’m really, really happy for you two. But also I fucking called it!”

Alvie gives the ornaments he made to you and Haley. Yours is heart-shaped, with yours and Alvie’s names on it and the year. “But you made this like a week ago…”

He shrugs. “I had high hopes, I guess.”

You kiss him and your sister says, “Awww, let me take a picture of you two.”

Alvie puts his arm around your shoulders and you smile as Haley captures this moment.

“Our first picture together,” he says.

“First of many,” you reply.

Alvie opens your gift—a new keychain tucked inside a winter beanie.

When he holds up the keychain, you say, “Because you’re not going anywhere.”

In the evening, after Haley leaves, you’re snuggling on the couch with Alvie. He nuzzles your neck. “This is my best Christmas ever.”

“Mine, too.”

He sighs contentedly. “This feels like home.”

“The apartment?”

“Yes. But mostly you. Wherever you are is my home.”

🎄

#juan alvarez #alvie #alvie x reader #alvie x you #house md #fanfiction #fic #house md fic #lin-manuel miranda #lin-manuel miranda fic #gender neutral #christmas fic #reader insert #gender neutral reader

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kellyvela · 4 years

Text

THE WOLF THAT SLEW THE DRAGON

The other day I made this little post:

Here is Jon Snow killing his aunt to protect Sansa… Oh I’m sorry, this is Saint George killing the dragon to protect a redhead princess. In some versions of the tale Saint George marries the princess… [x]

I did it as a little funny post really, after reading some very bad takes about Targaryen dragons... But after just a small research the last couple of days the things I found are really amazing. Let’s see:

I already knew about the Legend of Saint George - the Dragon Slayer, and even asked @sansaastark to photoshop GRRM’s head on Saint George’s body:

But who was this man, Saint George - the Dragon Slayer? Does he really influenced GRRM?

Saint George was a Roman soldier that was martyred and beheaded following the Emperor orders, after refusing to participate in the persecution of christians because he was a christian himself.

This part of Saint George’s life reminds me of the Faith of the Seven versus the Old Gods in ASOIAF. It also makes me think about Jon Snow refusing to abandon the Wildlings and allowing them to cross the Wall, against the ancient law of the Night’s Watch.

Saint George ascended quickly in the Roman Army and became a member of the Praetorian Guard, whose members served as personal bodyguards and intelligence for the Roman emperors, something like the Kingsguard.

This reminds me of a very young Jon Snow becoming the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, you know: “the shield that guards the realms of men”. Also according Fire & Blood: “Visenya modeled their vows (Kingsguard’s vows) on those of the Night’s Watch; like the black-cloaked crows of the Wall, the White Swords served for life, surrendering all their lands, titles, and worldly goods to live a life of chastity and obedience, with no reward but honor.”

But the most famous part of Saint George’s story is the legend that says he slew a dragon:

In the well-known version from Jacobus da Varagine's Legenda aurea (The Golden Legend, 1260s), the narrative episode of Saint George and the Dragon took place somewhere he called "Silene", in Libya.

Silene in Libya was plagued by a venom-spewing dragon dwelling in a nearby pond, poisoning the countryside. To prevent it from affecting the city itself, the people offered it two sheep daily, then a man and a sheep, and finally their children and youths, chosen by lottery. One time the lot fell on the king's daughter. The king offered all his gold and silver to have his daughter spared; the people refused. The daughter was sent out to the lake, dressed as a bride, to be fed to the dragon.

Saint George by chance arrived at the spot. The princess tried to send him away, but he vowed to remain. The dragon emerged from the pond while they were conversing. Saint George made the Sign of the Cross and charged it on horseback, seriously wounding it with his lance. He then called to the princess to throw him her girdle (zona), and he put it around the dragon's neck. When she did so, the dragon followed the girl like a "meek beast" on a leash.

The princess and Saint George led the dragon back to the city of Silene, where it terrified the populace. Saint George offered to kill the dragon if they consented to become Christians and be baptized. Fifteen thousand men including the king of Silene converted to Christianity. George then killed the dragon, beheading it with his sword, and the body was carted out of the city on four ox-carts. The king built a church to the Blessed Virgin Mary and Saint George on the site where the dragon died and a spring flowed from its altar with water that cured all disease. Only the Latin version involves the saint striking the dragon with the spear, before killing it with the sword.

The Golden Legend narrative is the main source of the story of Saint George and the Dragon as received in Western Europe, and is therefore relevant for Saint George as patron saint of England. The princess remains unnamed in the Golden Legend version, and the name "Sabra" is supplied by Elizabethan era writer Richard Johnson in his Seven Champions of Christendom (1596). In the work, she is recast as a princess of Egypt. This work takes great liberties with the material, and makes St. George marry Sabra, and have English children, one of whom becomes Guy of Warwick. Alternative names given to the princess in Italian sources still of the 13th century are Cleolinda and Aia.

Source

You can read various versions of the Legend of Saint George and the Dragon here.

It’s very interesting that between the names given to the princess of the legend are Sabra and Aia, names that sound pretty much like the names of the Stark sisters: Sansa and Arya.

It’s also pretty interesting that the princess was ‘sent out to the lake, dressed as a bride, to be fed to the dragon’. This bit remains me very much of Sansa who is strongly linked with marriage in ASOIAF.

Researching about the princess of the story, I found a very cute version of the legend in a web specialized in children’s audio-books. Here is the part about the princess:

Then one day, the name of the princess was shaken out of the urn. According to the King’s own law, his daughter must be sacrificed. He called the people together and offered them gold and treasure if only they would agree to spare her from the dragon. The judges who oversaw the lottery said that it must be completely fair, or else the people would no longer accept it. And so, much saddened, the king said to the princess, “My dear, I shall never see your wedding day.”

A week went past, and the day arrived when she must meet her fate. The palace servants dressed her in her wedding gown and placed a crown of flowers on her head. They led her out of the city in a procession, and headed for the lake where the dragon lived.

Source

The King’s lament and the princess dressed her in her wedding gown with a crown of flowers on her head sounds as if the princess was about to marry the dragon. This bit sounds very much like Jenny of Oldstones, Lyanna and Sansa Stark... And take note that the first two actually had a romance with a Targaryen man, you know, a dragon...

This description of the princess, wearing her wedding gown with a crown of flowers in her head, has been depicted by Edward Burne-Jones in the paintings of his Series “The Legend of St George and the Dragon”:

Princess Sabra Drawing the Lot:

The Princess Sabra Led to the Dragon:

The Princess Tied to the Tree:

Where do I see those long sleeves before? Oh yeah in Sansa’s costumes on the Show and also in the description of his wedding dress in the books: “The points of the long dagged sleeves almost touched the ground when she lowered her arms.” - A Storm of Swords - Sansa III

This addition to my little funny post tell us more about the relationship between Saint George and the princess:

Source: The Union Jack: The Story of the British Flag by Nick Groom.

via @butterflies-dragons [x]

This bit: “Saint George is often described as ‘Our Lady’s Knight’ and was strongly associated with the Cult of the Virgin, which contributed to his role as a model of chivalry and courtly love”, reminds me more and more of Sansa, the character most associated with chivalry and courtly love in ASOIAF. We also have a link to the Faith of the Seven and The Maiden, that reminds me of this ASOIAF passage: “The Maiden lay athwart the Warrior, her arms widespread as if to embrace him.” - A Clash of Kings - Davos I. Sansa would be the Maiden and Jon would be the Warrior.

The secular version of the legend, the one where George marries Sabra, was also depicted in paintings, here’s an example:

The Wedding of St. George by Dante Gabriel Rossetti:

I love that Sabra is wearing a rose in her hair, I will come back to this detail later.

As if all of these findings weren’t enough, yesterday @tell-me-this-isnt-jonsa made this very interesting contribution:

Want to hear a fun fact?

While St. George is now most often associated with England and English iconography, his legend actually spans across Europe and parts of Asia. Relevant to our interests, in Slavic and Germanic folklore, St. George is also the patron saint of wolves, otherwise known as the “Master of Wolves” or a wolf herdsman, able to tame and/or command these wild beasts, as well as protect people and livestock from them.

@tell-me-this-isnt-jonsa [x]

You can read more about Saint George as the Master of Wolves here.

Saint George as the “Master of Wolves” or “Wolf Herdsman” reminds me of Jon Snow being crowned King in the North (I know this only happened in the Show, but there is a possibility that this happens in the Books as well). Either way, Jon Snow is a character strongly linked to leadership, and that’s what being a master or a herdsman ultimately means. And talking about masters, leaders and Kings, is worth to say that Saint George is also known as the “Prince of Martyrs”.

After this very important addition, I talked with my friend @flibbertigiblet about all the symbology and similarities between the Legend of Saint George and ASOIAF.

First she told me this:

The country of Georgia, where devotions to the saint date back to the fourth century, is not technically named after the saint, but is a well-attested back-formation of the English name. However, a large number of towns and cities around the world are. Saint George is one of the patron saints of Georgia; the name Georgia (Sakartvelo in Georgian) is an anglicisation of Gurj, ultimately derived from the Persian word gurj/gurjān ("wolf").

Source

So yeah, ladies and gentlemen: GEORGE = WOLF

So Saint George is literally: THE WOLF THAT SLEW THE DRAGON

And my little funny post was right after all: Jon Snow killing his aunt to protect Sansa could be the televisual representation of Saint George killing the dragon to protect Princess Sabra...

The story of Saint George and the Dragon symbolizes the good winning over the evil. The Christianity winning over paganism, where the dragon represents the evil, the paganism; the princess represents the Catholic Church/Virgin Mary; and Saint George is the Champion of the Catholic Faith.

Jon Snow is not a Champion of the Faith of the Seven tho, he worships the Old Gods. A very classical GRRM twist, making the Old Gods the pagans and shaping the Faith of the Seven as the Catholic Church. Don’t worry tho, Sansa Stark professes both religions, but I would dare to say that, at this point of the story, she prefers the Old Gods.

After finding all these gems, so many things make sense. Like the way GRRM talks about dragons, calling them nuclear weapons; and the way he expresses his love of wolves.

About dragons:

Dragons are the nuclear deterrent, and only Dany has them, which in some ways makes her the most powerful person in the world. But is that sufficient? These are the kind of issues I’m trying to explore. The United States right now has the ability to destroy the world with our nuclear arsenal, but that doesn’t mean we can achieve specific geopolitical goals.

Power is more subtle than that. You can have the power to destroy, but it doesn’t give you the power to reform, or improve, or build.

—Vulture 2014

THEM: And the dragons?

GRRM: “Oh sure, dragons are cool too,” he chuckles. “But maybe not on our doorstep”

—The Guardian - 2018

What drives Dany? With Dany I’m particularly looking at the… what effect great power has upon a person. She’s the mother of dragons, and she controls what is in effect the only three nuclear weapons in the entire world that I’ve created. What does it do to you when you control the only three nuclear weapons in the world and you can destroy entire cities or cultures if you choose to? Should you choose to, should you not choose to?

—“Interview exclusive de George R R Martin, l'auteur de Game Of Thrones” de -Le Mouv’-

About wolves:

Chris Long: What your favorite things about wolves are? What drew you to wolves? Because it seems like you have a passion for them.

GRRM: I like their ferocity. I like the fact that they’re social animals, that they have, they’re packs, they’re not lonely hunters. They have their own society, their own packs. They work together. You know I’ve tried to make that point in “Game of Thrones” and that will come back to it in later books, you know. When winter comes, the cold wins blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives. And human beings need to keep that in mind too. We all need each other. We all need packs. That’s true on a football team as well. The individual star can’t succeed without great teammates around him.

—George RR Martin in The Fish Bowl with Chris Long

It’s not a surprise then, that GRRM has called the Starks “The Heroes of the Story”, and the Starks are wolves, and one of them could be destined to slay a dragon to protect a member of their pack, and become a legend: THE WOLF THAT SLEW THE DRAGON... Just like happened in the Show...

To be honest, as thorough as GRRM is, I’m very sure he knows a lot about his namesake Saint George “The Dragon Slayer”, and he seems proud to bear the name:

John Hodgman: That’s how I can’t sue you, If you steal from history and add a dragon. I can’t sue you.

GRRM: I’m working off my own, you know, karma here, because I’m George, and what’s he known for? He killed the dragon, you know, come on. Come on, I was almost abolished at one point when the Catholic Church was reviewing all the saints, I was terrified that George would be abolished, because they abolish a lot of fiction, I said George is only known for killing a dragon, how can they keep him in, but they did so, that was, that was good.

John Hodgman: I’m glad you stayed anointed.

GRRM: That’s right.

—In conversation: George R. R. Martin with John Hodgman

As far as I know, GRRM is an atheist, but he went to a catholic high school:

Chris Long: You also grew up in Bayonne, right?

GRRM: Right, Bayonne, New Jersey, yeah.

Chris Long: So you have, somebody that works on my crew said they’re from Bayonne. They said to ask you about the Bayonne Bees. Did you go to there, were you at the high school, the Bayonne Bees?

GRRM: No, that was our archrival. I went to the Catholic high school, Marist, and the Royal Knights.

—George RR Martin in The Fish Bowl with Chris Long

Marist is a catholic congregation named after Blessed Virgin Mary. And their Football Team is called the Royal Knights. Royal Knights huh... I wonder why?

Interestingly enough, Saint George is often described as ‘Our Lady’s Knight’ and was strongly associated with the Cult of the Virgin, which contributed to his role as a model of chivalry and courtly love.

And remember that according to the most known version of the legend, “The king built a church to the Blessed Virgin Mary and Saint George on the site where the dragon died”.

I really hope Sansa Stark finds her true knight someday, someone as brave and gentle and strong as Saint George - The Dragon Slayer... Someone we could call “Our Lady of Winterfell’s Knight” or maybe “The Queen in the North’s Knight”...

Anyway, continuing with the recount of my research, after that I told my friend about my favorite version of the Legend of Saint George and the Dragon, this one from Catalonia, Spain:

The Legend of Saint George

The legend explains that long ago, in Montblanc (Tarragona) a ferocious dragon, capable of poisoning the air and killing with his breath, had frightened the inhabitants of the city. The inhabitants, scared and tired of the dragon´s ravages and misdeeds, decided to calm him by feeding him one person a day that would be chosen randomly in a draw. After several days, the princess was the unlucky one.

When the princess left her home and headed towards the dragon, a gentleman named Saint George, dressed in shining armor, riding a white horse, suddenly appeared to rescue her. Saint George raised his sword and stabbed the dragon, at last releasing the princess and the citizens from this turmoil.

From the dragon's blood a rose-bush grew with the reddest roses that had ever been seen. Saint George, now a hero picked a rose and offered it to the princess.

Source

Montblanc, the town of this story, literally means “White Mountain”, very Winterfell-ish...

So, remember that Dante Gabriel Rossetti’s painting where Sabra is wearing a rose in her hair during her wedding? That painting reminds me of this version of the legend.

A knight giving a rose to a princess is a trope GRRM used a lot in ASOIAF: Lyanna’s crown of winter roses, The Rose of Winterfell, Loras giving Sansa a red rose, Sansa wearing the rose Loras gave to her in her hair, Marillion’s song for Alayne: 'The Roadside Rose', etc. Also, a rose is a very important element of certain story GRRM loves: Beauty and the Beast.

Saint George’s day (April 23th) is a very important festivity in Catalonia, Spain. Saint George is their Patron Saint and this day is also known as the Catalan Valentine’s Day:

Saint George´s Roses

Sending roses is the most significant thing about this festival. Anyone can make this offering, although as tradition dictates it is the man who must give a rose to his beloved. According to the legend, Saint George saved his princess by killing the dragon from whose blood grew a rose. That is why some consider it the Catalan Valentine´s Day, because Saint George is said to be, par excellence, the patron saint of lovers in Catalonia.

Source

That’s why Saint George's Day is also known as The Day of the Rose in Catalonia.

Since we got romantic at this point, my friend told me about some potential Jonsa AUs based in the Legend of Saint George and the Dragon, and she also mentioned Saint George’s Cross, the one on the England flag.

To that detail, I mentioned the Saint Andrew’s Cross, the one on the Scotland flag, and how GRRM has made the Starks very Scot coded. I also mentioned how the Union Jack, the United Kingdom’s Flag was created by merging Saint George’s (Englad), Saint Andrew’s (Scotland) & Saint Patrick’s (Ireland) crosses.

And after that, my friend said to me this:

“Following that logic - Jon's non-Stark half (I don't want to say Targ), as represented by St George's cross, which theoretically gives him the birthright to rule England/The southern kingdoms, plus his Stark side/Sansa, as represented by St Andrew/Scotland = The 7K/Westeros with Jonsa as King and Queen”.

At that point I was screaming: ¡¡¡THIS IS THE HENRY TUDOR & ELIZABETH OF YORK -WAR OF THE ROSES- JONSA THEORY!!!

And then, after all this information, I decided to write this post. My friend took the same decision, so expect more on the subject!

It was a long ride. I could be right about all of this or maybe just a little, or more probably, I’m all wrong, but it was a blast!

As my friend, @shieldofrohan likes to say: “GRRM’s own name is a fucking spoiler for the books”

***The end***

#jonsa #saint george and the dragon #grrm

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mrchalamet-mrstyles · 4 years

Link

*A MUST READ:*

Robert Pattinson and Kristen Stewart never broke up. Indeed, their split was merely a distraction for the press that would guarantee the former Twilight stars privacy. In the interim period, where Pattinson got engaged to FKA Twigs and Stewart dated a series of women, including St. Vincent, the pair were actually living in wedded bliss. Their PR game was so effective that it helped to hide no fewer than two pregnancies for Stewart. Now, the Pattinson-Stewart family are happy together, laughing at the ignorance of the press and public who believe they broke up years ago and moved onto fulfilling and happy relationships with other people.

Of all the weird celebrity conspiracies that pollute the internet, the Robsten fandom may be my favourite one. It has everything: Press conspiracies, outlandish theories that would put Moon landing truthers to shame, the inability to tell reality from fiction, and of course, bad photoshops. Every now and then, when I see Pattinson and Stewart in the headlines, I go and visit the tin-hatters’ sites for that potent combination of entertainment and fear for my life. It’s astounding that they’re still keeping up this façade.

As time passes, I wonder more and more if they truly believe it or if they’re going full My Immortal with the scam. It’s too outlandish to be real, yet the emotions behind it clearly are.

Sadly, this is nothing new for the world of shippers, nor is it limited to the breeding pair of Twilight. Name a prominent pop culture property and the chances are there are hardcore shippers whose interest goes beyond a fizzy hobby. Some fans truly believe that Jamie Dornan and Dakota Johnson are a real couple, which is hysterical because their chemistry levels in the Fifty Shades series are sub-zero. The stars of Outlander face the same shippers. Taylor Swift and Karlie Kloss are secret lesbian lovers, according to a subset of their fandom. Cate Blanchett will eventually leave her husband and children for Carol co-star Rooney Mara, thus freeing her from an exploitative bearding relationship with Joaquin Phoenix. The Larry fandom have yet to admit defeat, even as both Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson admit the fan delusions over their supposed secret romance hurt their real-life friendship. The Supernatural guys may never shake those conspiracies.

It isn’t all romance related either. Spare a thought for poor Benedict Cumberbatch, whose already overzealous fan-base includes a portion of people who think he was trapped into marriage and fatherhood by his wife, who they paint as the modern-day iteration of Medea. They don’t even think his kids are real. Apparently, one of them is clearly a doll.

If they call it out, as Robert Pattinson did, or mock it, like Armie Hammer recently did on Instagram after someone DM-d him to claim he should be gay like his character in Call Me By Your Name, then they write that off as simply proving their point. The majority of fans deride and condemn this behaviour, partly because it reflects badly on everyone else but mostly because it’s blatant bullshit that should be treated as such. What is most striking about these myriad conspiracies is how eerily similar they all are in terms of tone and content.

Historically, publicists and studios have operated with a certain degree of shadiness. In the Golden Era of Hollywood, where studios reigned supreme, a star’s image could be kept on a tight leash and their indiscretions hidden from the public. Fixers like Eddie Mannix (made famous in the Coen Brothers’ movie Hail, Caesar!) could clear up all manner of problems if the occasion called for it. Pregnancies could be hidden, illegal abortions procured, marriages annulled or concealed, and even the occasional murder dealt with (allegedly). We know this stuff happened, and we know that today, publicists do a lot of work to keep their clients happy. That probably doesn’t extend so far as to covering up marriages and multiple pregnancies and fake babies.

The psychologies behind these tin-hatter conspiracies tend to be remarkably similar too. There’s always massive amounts of paranoia at the heart of their delusions. Arrogance is key as well. You need infallible ego to maintain repeatedly debunked fantasies. They talk of their conspiracies as if they’re the most obvious truths in the world, deriding the ‘ignorant masses’ who refuse to see the reality in front of them, which they’ve kindly circled in MS Paint. The mentality is frequently rooted in a strong brand of self-victimization: They tie their theories to social issues like homophobia and claim anyone who opposes their belief that the One Direction guys are in love are clearly bigots. Even when the people in question call out this nonsense, they’re written off as poor closeted prisoners of invincible publicists. The game of tin-hating shippers is designed so that they never lose.

If Caitriona Balfe and Sam Heughan insist they’re just friends, it’s only to throw everyone off the scent. When Tony Goldwyn talks of his love for his wife, it’s just to distract everyone from his romance with Kerry Washington. If Robert Pattinson is smiling in public, it’s because he’s thinking of Kristen; if he’s looking a bit down, it’s because he’s thinking of Kristen.

When the fantasy does begin to crumble, the tin-hatters get violent in their rhetoric. Taylor Schilling’s rumoured boyfriend briefly deleted his social media after receiving harassment from her fans who think she’s with Laura Prepon (who just had a baby with Ben Foster). Rooney Mara’s so-called fans called her a disgrace for dating a man and claimed she was letting down LGBTQ+ kids everywhere because of it. Robert Pattinson’s then-girlfriend FKA Twigs faced all manner of horrific racist and sexist abuse for simply existing. It can be easy to laugh people like this off, but we’ve also seen what happens to celebrities when their obsessive fans decide to invade their lives. A 19-year-old fan of Lana Del Rey drove cross-country to her house, broke into her garage and tweeted about it. An obsessive fan of Paula Abdul committed suicide outside her house. Rebecca Schaeffer’s stalker shot her on her own doorstep.

The people who cross that line are a minority, but they’re a loud and insidious minority who shouldn’t be written off as mere ‘crazies’.

This phenomenon is undoubtedly fascinating and reveals a lot about various intersections of celebrity, media, the internet, fandom, and so on. It’s worth keeping an eye on, if only to ensure nobody gets hurt, because it’s not unique to internet culture. This stuff breeds, and that should concern us all.

Now, when do I get my shadowy PR conspiracy cheque?

#charmie #anti-ts #tin-hatting #rpf

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bookcoverbasics · 3 years

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A Few Words on Stock Art from theBookDesigners, Part 1

Ian Koviak of theBookDesigners has reminded me that I have probably been both too strict and too pragmatic regarding the use of stock art. My motives were good: I want to encourage the fledgling designer to think creatively and to not automatically turn to stock sources as the only solution to a cover. It’s not a very good habit to get into. But, as Ian rightly points out, the exigencies of deadlines in the real world, client demands, budgets and even the type of book will often dictate what a designer will be able to do. Not every designer will have the luxury of being able to either create or commission a unique illustration or graphic for every book cover they do.

But if stock art is used, every effort should be made to use it as creatively as possible. Ian has a genius for adapting and combining existing images so that they become something original and new. He is especially adept at integrating typography into his covers, so that the type and art work together as a whole, creating a unified image and overall effect. That is, the covers are not art with type they are art and type.

So over to you, Ian...

-------------------------------------------------------

As far as stock art goes, it can get trite and over used and all that. But the reality is it's a standard in commercial design. Has been for over 200 years. Stock books as resources for quickly accessing illustrative or photographic elements for designers have been a mainstay and staple of the industry. It really boils down to how it's used. I design upwards of 25-50+ covers a month (many series designs and so forth). I can barely read every book let alone spend hours on a single one to create original art for each one. That does not mean I don't strive to adjust it or make it different in some way or do a composite to create a different scene or unique element, but stock art allows me to remain productive, access quick solutions that are still graphically appealing and sound.

Obviously, not all stock sites are created equal. Trevillion, Archangel, Bridgeman, etc etc. These are top of the line stock resources. The more versed I am in the assorted stock site options, the more quickly I know which one to go to for specific needs. I'll never throw in the towel on a project because I cannot find an image, rather, I know which stock site to go to to get the image I need. And then there is working with letterers, illustrators and so forth. But in general I can find what i need and rarely have to resort to setting up a complicated photo shoot for a run-of-the-mill cover. Not every project is worth the effort. A self help diet book or finance/business/management book will never warrant the same amount of effort as say a famous fiction author or up and coming literary star. Even the repackaging of classics will extend my leash a bit more. But in general, even if I go a more complex route, stock sites provide visual inspiration and idea generation as well.

So while you may not be able to find a specific character/scene/object, you can still be inspired by photographic or illustrative nuances like angle, perspective, lighting, composition, style etc. All that, and I am also not a professional photographer or illustrator. I am adept at Photoshop and Illustrator and InDesign, but more in a "jack of all trades" type of way. So for me, stock is about efficiency and idea generation.

And while I detest seeing covers that are purely stock plus text, I am often bluntly asked by publishers to do just that. I don't know how many covers I have done with some sort of door opening with light shining through or some vista beyond where stock was really what was being asked for. In fact, most art directors request that we use royalty free sites, knowing full well that any image we use may in fact find its way onto many other covers. It's a gamble they are willing to take. And, ultimately, being a commercial artist, I am not attached to every piece of packaging I produce and much is out of my control so far as having a unique voice in the matter. I am of†en being asked to mimic other covers or keep things very simple or make the text the focus or other things that limit my artistic vision or expression or opinion for that matter.

Anyway, I am preaching to the choir, but I just thought I'd get that out there. I am not opposed to stock art as much as I am concerned with how it used. If it is appropriate, solves the problem at hand and answers the call of the author’s work—well, that is what I am here to do.

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freedom-shamrock · 5 years

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Chat on a Hot Tin Roof - Chapter 1

Also on AO3

Marichat May prompt #13, villain.

Note: while this will have some fluff, it will lead off with some angst.

Chat Noir was enjoying a peaceful night run over the rooftops of Paris. It was one of his preferred ways of winding down before bed, especially when he'd been through a particularly busy spell as Adrien Agreste. Today he'd sat for two midterm exams, had an overly long modeling shoot paired with an absolute diva, and double Mandarin lessons to make up for missing last week's due to an akuma attack.

He'd hoped his father would relax his hold on Adrien's leash as he grew up and proved himself responsible. If anything he found himself in a veritable stranglehold, with even less time for friends and his own pursuits. He wasn't sure he could put up with another two years of this and was strongly considering moving out and cutting ties with his father. Two years ago, he would have been shocked to think such a thing, but the mansion had only gotten colder and his father's criticisms harsher over time.

He was dashing over a rooftop in the neighborhood near his old lycee when he heard scuffling feet and muttering. He threw his momentum into a roll, allowing him to stop and check it out. Peeking down from the top of a three-story building, he was surprised to find a familiar friend. He tilted his head, puzzled as he watched Marinette striding down the sidewalk talking to herself.

"It's not that weird… but it is … and his name means butterfly. He's been using the logo since he started, but…" Even his sensitive ears couldn't quite pick up everything. "He's had the grimoire for years , and if he's just using it for designs I'll eat my…"

"Good evening, Princess," Chat said, dropping down in front of her and bowing majestically. This turned out to be a bit of a mistake and upon further reflection, he realized that surprising anyone at night, especially women out on their own, should never be done at close range.

"Aaaahhhh!" Marinette shrieked.

He wasn't quite sure what she did next, just that he found himself suddenly making friends with the sidewalk. His arms and legs had somehow been bound up behind him, and his face hurt. "Mmpf?" he asked the cobblestones.

"Ohmygod!" she blurted. "Chat Noir? Is that really you?" She sounded horrified. He'd heard horrified Marinette enough in the last three years to know it. "I'm so sorry!"

His limbs were loosened, and he realized she'd trussed him up like a prize buck with his own tail!

"Are you okay?" she asked urgently, helping him stretch out and roll over.

He looked up at her, bent over him, concern clear on her face, and couldn't help but smile. Ouch. That hurt his cheek. The absurdity of the situation suddenly struck him. Chat Noir, hero of Paris had been taken down by a tiny helpful cupcake. He flopped onto his back and laughed.

"Oh no," she whispered. "I've concussed him. Crap. Should I call an ambulance? Maybe I can find Ladybug…"

"No Princess," he said around the chuckles. "I'm fine. Just struck by how amazing you are."

She didn't look like she believed him, but she sat down next to him and peered into his eyes. "I'm not so sure about that. I just threw you on the ground. I'm a disaster, a danger to those around me."

He shook his head. "I'm fine. Ladybug has thrown me much farther."

"I scuffed up your cheek." She sighed sadly.

"It's fine," he insisted. He wondered if it would get him out of modeling for a week, or if his father would eschew his usual feelings about heavy makeup and photoshop to keep Adrien in place. "But this does bring up a serious question. What are you doing out so late on your own? You working through a vicious fashion problem?" It was a safe question. Chat Noir had interacted with Marinette on a semi-regular basis. They weren't quite friends, but they were as close as he could realistically be with a civilian. She probably knew him as well as Ladybug, who was fine with the generalities, but never wanted to hear the specifics of his crappy days. While Adrien knew she was a much more than just a designer, Chat only had seen through a tiny window of Marinette's life.

Frowning, she shook her head. "I wish it were just a design that didn't want to cooperate." She held out a lavender envelope. "I got this today."

He opened it to find an acceptance to an internship at Gabriel, and his heart jumped happily. He was so proud of her for making it through the hoops. She was going to be the youngest intern they'd ever had, and she was going to rock it. "Isn't this good news?" Though she'd told Adrien she no longer looked up to his father as a person, it had always been her dream to work at Gabriel. What had changed and why didn't he know? He was doubly her friend. He should know all the important things.

She almost looked like she wanted to cry. "It should be good news, but...." Her finger pointed at the signature, Gabriel Agreste, a flourish in lurid purple.

He kind of wondered what his father was going for with this bold statement of color. The man had gotten weirder and weirder, and everyone chalked it up to him being a creative genius, but Adrien was wondering if it was too early to have him tested for dementia. And since when did his father sign his name like… shit. He froze.

"You see it, too, don't you," she said.

"It's subtle. I almost missed it." The way his father had signed his name left a void of white space, well lavender space. When reversed, it bore striking similarity to the magenta outline Hawkmoth's victims wore when he spoke to them.

Check out chapter 2 (coming soon) >>

30-minute sprint in the dance hallway.

And if you’re so inclined, feel free to support me over on Ko-Fi

#Miraculous Ladybug #fanfic #my writing #angst #Marichat may #Marichat May 2019 #Chat Noir #Marinette #Chat on a Hot Tin Roof

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queennicoleinboots · 5 years

Text

I Hate This Planet, part 1

(I started this story six months ago)

I was so pissed when I walked into Peter's house that day. Once again, Godiva was pissed off with the universe and got short with me over the phone as a result. I had my own issues that day. Jasper, my 69-year-old client with back issues, was mad at me because I wasn't supporting the government shutdown. Joebear, my husband, was mad at me because I wasn't at the latest government shutdown protest. I couldn't win for losing.

"What's up with you?!" Peter asked in a pissy tone.

I laughed. "Well, I made it to work to put up with your stupid bullshit. What's up with you?!"

"Ha ha ha. I had the strength to answer the door for your BITCH ASS!" Peter said as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

I poured my own. "So what the fuck is your problem?!" I asked him.

"Oh I don't know! My mom is in extreme pain, and my DAD is asking her to do 50,000 things. I I I have to HEAR about it, and you come in with a pissy attitude like you have been for the last two fucking weeks!" Peter started as he stared at me with glowing red eyes.

"Sorry, but it's not *my* fault she's in pain or that your dad suffers large. Also, I'm in a pissy attitude because every every every decision I've made in the last three fucking weeks has been the wrong one! The government had been shut down for a month. Jasper hates that I go to rallies, and Joebear is pissed that I'm not in the front lines for every single one of them!" I said as I took a sip of my coffee.

"Well, fuck, Xara, get it together! The fuck are you taking it out on me FOR?!" he asked as he sipped his coffee.

"Because you're a curly-haired JERK and the bane of my mere existence!" I yelled as I gulped mine and poured myself another cup.

"Ooooh! So you're mad at me for publishing one novel and trying to publish the other?!" Peter said with a guffaw sound as he drank more coffee. "Jesus. Get over it. God Forbid I accomplish something besides be in 1,200,895 porn videos, model for 15,000 clothing companies worldwide, paint 2,000 masterpieces, sketch 5,000 legitimate drawings, and make 30,000, THIRTY-THOUSAND original photoshop illustrations, all of which are AMAZING! And not to mention I've published and written 20 screenplays!"

I stared at him for a few seconds as I sipped my coffee. "You are a pretentious ass, Peter," I said. "Thank you, Peter. I was in two amateur porn videos, never modelled in my life because I'm not as attractive as you are, only painted 20 paintings, most of which are complete shit. Thank you, Peter. And only did about 567 sketches, but they weren't as good as yours are, PETER. Well, I have another reason to hate this planet now. You fucking ass."

"I'm sorry for being amazing. But I still hate my life. I tried so hard. I'm still broke. Thank you, Trump. Thank you, ever-failing healthcare system of America. Thank you, pretentious ass literary agents that would rather publish bullshit like Danielle Steele and James Patterson. Thank you, Republicans. YOU ASSHOLES have the greatest political party ever. Fuck you. I also hate this shit my parents are going through..." Peter started to say before his mother named Godiva walked out of her bedroom with her shoulders near her ears, a strained face, and her arms to her sides.

"Is there EVER A DAY IN MY LIFE WHEN I CAN JUST HAVE A CUP OF COFFEE TO MYSELF WITHOUT HEARING GODIVA THIS GODIVA THAT!!!!" she yelled.

We looked at her and said, "No."

"EXACTLY!!!!" she said with gritted teeth and poured herself a cup of coffee. She grunted and gritted her teeth some more. "Why is this the last cup of coffee left in the pot?! Why? I worked hard all my life... well, minus when I homeschooled Peter. That was awesome." She said that last sentence as she batted her eyes at Peter.

Peter grinned. "Sorry. I'm pissy today," he said as he got up. "I'll make you some more coffee because you're the only person I'm not angry with."

"Thank you," she said as she drank her coffee. "But seriously. My husband has driven me to the point of insanity. Has he lost his senses? I'm 80 years old. I don't HAVE the strength and patience like I used to to deal with his ever-sinking health. And everyone else in the world is incompetent!"

"Oh boy do I agree!" Peter said as he poured water into the machine and managed to spill half of it on the counter. "I'm incompetent as fuck!" He said as his eyes widened and as his smile became bigger. He added a stupid chuckle at the end of that sentence.

I laughed and managed to projectile spit coffee on the floor. Peter was cracking me up with his stupid bullshit. I went to use a napkin to clean up my coffee spill while I was still laughing.

Godiva stared at him like she wanted to kill him. "My Goodness. Everything's a joke to you two!" she said with red glowing circles around her blue eyes. She threw a paper towel roll at Peter.

Peter took some paper towels and cleaned the counter. "Like I MEANT TO DO THAT!" he said as he widened his eyes at her.

She poured some more water into the pot and handed it to him. "Don't spill it this time, huh!" she said as she glared at him.

"I don't plan to!" he said in a whiny, childish voice as he poured the water in the pot normally. He then turned the coffee pot and waited for it to brew.

"GODIVA! PETER!" Jamie, Peter's bedridden father, called from his bedroom.

"WHAT?!" Godiva and Peter yelled. Godiva stomped her right foot, and Peter slammed his right fist into the counter.

"I need you two to get me out of bed!!" he yelled. "My back is KILLING me!"

Godiva marched over to him. "Mine is, too, but nobody cares about that," she said quietly.

Peter just walked over with this "Fuck my life" look on his face. He stuck his tongue out in disgust.

I tried to get myself ready to clean house, but I laughed and cried the whole time. I hated my life as much as they did. I managed to get myself to work, but I was still frustrated with everything.

My phone buzzed. It was none other than an angry old man named Jasper. I sighed loudly and picked up the phone. "Hello?" I said in an agitated tone.

"Hi Xara," he said with a sigh.

"What happened to you?" I asked.

"I'm building a space ship to get off this planet. I'm fucking done with these people. I can't deal with society. I can't deal with my family full of primates. I can't deal with the banks. I'm done with it all. I'm taking Gabby and Murphee with me. You want to come?" he asked as he was banging on shit in the background. Gabby was his old cat, and Murphee was his middle-aged dog .

I sighed in relief. "Yes. I'd love to get off this planet! When is the space ship going to be done?" I asked.

"Two weeks unfortunately," he said. "Good thing I don't plan to sleep. I'm ready to fly away now."

"No kidding. Fuck today. Please get back to work," I said.

Peter walked out of the room and attempted to have some more coffee.

"Peter! I forgot! I need help with fixing my alarm clock. Your mother's in the bathroom!" Jamie called.

"Ugh!!!!" Peter said as he made an air gesture of choking someone. He had those angry red circles around his eyes.

"Sounds like you have work to do, too," Jasper said. "Peter sounds like he is in the mood to be an asshole."

"Well, that's typical for him," I said.

"My point exactly. I need to get some more horsepower on these jets. Talk to you later," Jasper said.

"Talk to you later," I said.

He hung up.

Peter walked over while he was beating the alarm clock against his head. "Did I hear something about you getting off this planet?" he asked as he still banged the clock against his head.

I chuckled. "Yes," I said as I began dusting his office. "You want to come?"

He bashed the alarm clock off his head and somehow managed to get it back to normal. "Dad, I fixed your alarm clock!" he called to his father. "Yes, please. My dad literally drives me crazy. Look at me. I just beat his alarm clock against my head. Ha ha. It fixed the damn thing. Teeheehee! I need to get the fuck out of my house! Please help me. Ha ha ha." He left the room.

I called Jasper.

"Hello? What do you want? I'm not done with my space ship yet?" Jasper growled over the phone.

"I knew that, asshole. I wanted to know how much room was on your space ship," I said.

"I can fit like 10 people on here. Why the fuck not? I'm sure we aren't the only ones sick of this shit. But anyone but you will have to pay," he said.

Tug, Peter's basenji, charged down the stairs. "Did you say 'space ship'?"

"Well, we'd have to put a gold backing on the currency if we go to another planet," I said to Jasper. "Can Tug come along?"

"Who the fuck is Tug?" Jasper asked.

"Peter's very intelligent basenji. The dog is smarter than Peter," I said.

"Well, yeah. Animals are free, but jackass Peter has to pay. I'll give him a discount if I can tie him up." Jasper said.

"Thank you, Xara. If I could, I'd provide the rope. I'd like to put that jackass on a leash once in a while," Tug said.

"No worries. I can provide rope," I said.

"Fuck you guys," Peter said as he went past us to go to his computer.

Tug followed him and sat on his feet. He looked up at Peter and said, "Because fuck you, too."

"You knew I was going to take you with me if I left the planet. Stop this bullshit," Peter said as he looked down at Tug.

Tug laid out and put more weight on Peter's dainty feet. "I would hope so, fuckface," he said as he bared his teeth at him.

"Peter owes me $300 for getting on my ship. It can be $200 if he lets us duct tape his mouth shut," Jasper said as he built his space ship.

"Oooh. Can it be $100 if he is naked?" I asked.

"Hmmmm... very tempting, but I don't think he'd go for it," Jasper said with a chuckle.

Peter flicked me off before going back to trying to publish his novel.

I giggled. "I think he'd like the idea," I said with a big smile.

Peter snorted angrily and had steam coming from his ears.

"Only if he agrees. Otherwise, it's $200 to have duct tape over his mouth," Jasper said.

"All right. I'll put duct tape over his mouth and pay you $200 to let him on the ship," I said.

Peter smirked.

"Sounds good!" Jasper said. "I need to go back to working on my ship."

"Okay," I said. "I am going to buy duct tape soon."

"Good idea! See you later today," Jasper said.

"See you, Jasp," I said.

We hung up.

"Duct tape? Jasp?" Peter asked with a smirk.

"Jasper will charge only $200 if you let me duct tape over your mouth. And Jasp is my nickname for Jasper. My nickname for you is Peetie. And BaeWhuhh is my nickname for Joebear," I said. I only called Peter Peetie in rare occasion.

"Peetie?" he asked with a grin.

"Mhm," I said as I walked over to him and ran my fingers through his curls. "Peetie seems to suit you."

He grinned. "That might be my new name when I leave this planet," he said.

Joebear called me.

"Hold on, Peetie," I said as I answered the phone. "Hello, BaeBaeWhuhhh?"

He growled over the phone in frustration. "Ughhhhh! Fuck this planet. Satanists are at full force trying to brainwash everyone again. SIGH!!!!" Joebear growled.

Peter was laughing in the background. He snorted.

"Jasper is building a space ship to get off this planet. You want to get on it?" I asked.

He growled in bear language. "Yes!!! For the love of humanity, I'm done with people and this fucking planet. Fuck society. Fuck everyone and their 401k. Fuck these self-centered assfucks! I'm done. Get me on first class on a plane THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!!!" Joebear screamed. "Garfield and Cupid are coming, too." Garfield and Cupid are our orange cats.

Peter belly-laughed.

"Oh. Apparently Peter's done, too. He's fucking laughing hysterically. He's hysterical. He's fucked up," Joebear said.

I laughed. "Yes, bae. You are technically an animal, so you can get on for free," I said.

"Fuck that logic. I'm a goddamn giraffe then. I'm fucking tall enough. Two hundred bucks. Of all the chances to get off this goddamn planet, it has to be with some old fuck who hates me," Peter muttered. "I'll take it. Fuck this planet."

I laughed at Peter's comment.

"I won't keep you, Little Bae. Peter sounds like he is having a mental breakdown," Joebear said.

"He is," I said. "I love you, Buh Buh Huhhhh!!!"

"Love you, too. See you tonight, bae," he said.

"See you tonight, BIG BAAAEEE WHUHHH," I sung.

He hung up.

"My mind is fucked," Peter said as he went back to his bullshit activity on the computer. "I can't figure out this damn website. How the fuck do you design your own website? This is bullshit."

"I don't know. Do you want me to call Bae back?" I asked.

"No. I want off this God-forsaken rock of planet. How long do I have to wait to get the hell out of here?" he asked.

"Two weeks," I said.

"Jesus fuck," he muttered. "I don't know if I am going to make it two weeks. I do know I'm putting in my two weeks' fuck you notice tomorrow." He was a disgruntled drywall installer who hated his job more than life itself.

"Good idea," I said. "I get to keep my job because I am going to convince Mr. Williamson to come with us. He's a nice guy."

"Oh God no. Then I have to deal with Ted the Alligator and Jack the Crocodile. Ugh. Those two give me lung cancer from a the screaming I do at them," he said. He sighed.

"Come on, Peter. I have to make a living, and I still have to put you through bullshit," I said. "At least you won't have to do drywall for the rest of your life in two weeks."

"Fine! I'd rather drill my own teeth than keep my drywall job!!!" Peter exclaimed.

Godiva came in the room. "Why are you ridiculous, Peter?" she asked as she folded her arms.

"Because I don't give a fuck anymore, Mother," he said with an emphasis on 'Mother.' "I'm leaving the planet."

"No you're not. At least not without me, douchebag," she said.

"Fine. You can come with. We can leave together and say fuck this world," he said.

She grinned. "When?!" she asked with bright eyes.

"Two. Agonizing. Painful. Drawn out. Weeks," Peter answered.

"How will we leave?" Godiva asked excitedly.

"My other client is building a space ship to get off the planet," I said.

"Really?! Awesome. How much is he charging?" she asked.

"Hold on. Let me call him," I said as I called Jasper. The phone rang a few times and went to voicemail. I hung up because leaving a voicemail is awkward.

My phone buzzed. I answered. "Hello," I said.

"What do you need? I'm still building my space ship. I'd like to get the hell out of here as soon as possible," Jasper said.

"I'm well aware. How much for a human to get on the space ship if she is not tied up or has duct tape over her mouth?" I asked.

"Oh man. $500. $400 if she gives me a blowjob," he said.

"$500, but $400 if you are willing to do an unspeakable act," I said to Godiva.

"Sure! I stimulate my husband's bowels, and I don't have a poop fetish," she said.

"You're probably one of the only humans in my fucked-up life who doesn't," Peter muttered.

I chuckled. "She'll give you a blowjob," I said to Jasper.

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callmearcturus · 6 years

Text

re: D:BH

I am a big genuine believer that you should be able to consume media without people fucking guilting you over how it makes you a bad person. There is no ethical consumption under capitalism, we all should endeavor to survive best we can, etc etc. I deeply, genuinely believe that.

So I am not going to say "if you bought Detroit: Become Human you're a Bad Person."

But I do want to make sure people are fully aware of the controversy around Quantic Dream and Cage. And I don't mean old stuff like the Ellen page nude model thing or his shitty portrayal of women or whatever.

I mean that just a few months before D:BH was released, three French outlets of apparently some renown and respect, joint-published reports about the studio behind D:BC, alleging that QD was an extremely hostile work environment.

Quoting Kotaku: "According to Le Monde’s report, by way of Eurogamer, five former employees filed a complaint in spring of 2017 against the company and one of its employees for circulating degrading images. In February of 2017, a trove of 600 photoshops of various employees that were homophobic or sexist in nature, and some which even included Nazi symbols, was discovered by an IT manager who had been the subject of one of them. These files dated back to 2013 with some even displayed in the open spaces, although studio heads David Cage and Guillaume de Fondaumière claimed they weren’t aware of the offensive ones."

and

"Two people told the paper that once, after reviewing surveillance footage of a burglary at the company, Cage asked an employee of Tunisian descent if one of the perpetrators in the video was their cousin."

Which is uh. Pretty bad. There's also report of the Usual Shit at QD, crunch culture and sexual misonduct, etc.

Now, the correct and decent response to these kinds of reports is to express disgust at the idea your studio could do such a thing, and to humbly request time to launch a full investigation into this serious matter.

BOY THAT IS NOT WHAT HAPPENED.

"QD categorically denies the allegations. As for myself, I’m furious and outraged by these accusations, which I take very seriously. And I will take all possible legal actions to defend my honor." - co-CEO of QD, Guillaume de Fondaumière, mere HOURS after the reports were published.

aaaand

“You want to talk about homophobia? I work with Ellen Page, who fights for LGBT rights. You want to talk about racism? I work with Jesse Williams, who fights for civil rights in the USA... Judge me by my work.” - David Cage, shoving his entire fucking foot down his esophagus.

OH AND CHERRY ON TOP. During the press tour for D:BH obviously Sony was trying to keep Cage on the tiiiightest fucking leash they could to curtail any more shit hitting the fan a mere month before game launch.

And yet Cage shook free juuuust long enough to inform us that they are suing the journalists who made these reports.

This, to me, is impetus enough to never give QD another dime. But for people who really want to play D:BH, that is fine. We all consume media that has massive fucking issues. My purpose here is to just ensure everyone is aware of the full situation.

Also if you want some good good discussion of Cage, QD, the allegations, and their context with Cage’s history, I highly suggest checking out this episode of Waypoint Radio.

#i was tempted to tag this with the game's maintag #but my purpose is really not to rain on ppl's parade #so reblogs are appreciated if you think your followers should know this #that's all sorry for the heavy shit first thing in the morning

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abnormal-angel · 6 years

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Is dk really finally gone?? 😩🙏🏻

You know, I can’t really say 100% for sure @soinlovewithbandguys. All I know is it isn’t looking good for her. She crashed the cruise, makes him miserable. Tries to crash his weekend with Mingus. And then when that doesn’t work it seems she posted her olympics post, outing that she was at his place (probably out of anger). The unfollow came the next day, so he definitely didn’t seem to want her there or out she had been there. The refollow seems to be more for public image.. something he gave her as a consolation prize. I still don’t think that necessarily meant he took her back.

I bet she begged for him to go to Satellite Awards. He didn’t. So, she didn’t. I know she begged to go to the Oscar’s after party. This has been what she was after all along. She wanted that Oscar nom and she wanted to parade Norman around on her leash in front of JJ. Looks like Norman said fuck no to that too. She hasn’t been seen in public since she showed up in LA when he was working with Hideo. And showed up seems to be the word.

She papped herself alone at lunch in LA. I keep thinking she thought she was going to catch Norman in that papping. But, nope. He didn’t show or didn’t fall for it. Then we have the weird af restaurant pictures which a few have proven are completely doctored and photoshopped. It is like she photoshopped herself into each pic to make it look like they had dinner together. And these are people who know how to tell when a pic has been doctored. I shit you not, I wouldn’t surprised if she wasn’t at that dinner at all just imposed herself in. If so, again shows he didn’t give her an inch. Even if those pics are real (which none of them look like it when you analyze them closer) he still looks miserable af to be around her.

We know when he was willing to be seen with her, he would be. Costa vacays proved that, even though I still maintain he was only giving her publicity for her stupid nom to shut her up. Add to that how sulky and quiet she has been since the restaurant fiasco and I am just saying it looks a lot like she is licking her wounds right now. We know when Norman is done he is done. I can’t help but think she might have pulled her bullshit one too many times showing up in LA. She really needed that Oscar media for her ego. You could tell she hated not being able to go.

We will see what happens next. Some are thinking she will show up in London or Germany. I would bet she would at least be papped alone in Germany next weekend or take a selfie with her mom to show she is in the same country. Does that mean she is with him? No. Again, she can’t NOT pap them when they are together so only time will tell. All I am saying is his pattern ever since she showed up on the cruise seems to be to find a way to stay away from her. I think he has also been spending more time with Mingus too. Coupled with HC back in his corner (seemingly) I’d say they know he is trying to get rid of her.

Only time will tell. But, this is all very telling to me. She has fallen back on those old apt hunting pap pics yet again in her last article because he has given her nothing new.

[EDIT] He has also been caught a few times with other women (oops). Now we know this was never an exclusive “relationship” but he can hide that shit when he wants to. It is like he wanted those rumors to get out. Hmm. Showing he isn’t exclusive or trying to maintain his “just friends” PR line, which he has NEVER deviated from. Even when they were on vacation it was a huge group of people.

I wish I had a definite answer for you. Unfortunately, she uses people close to him to worm her way back in. But, it looks like he has been hanging with people who don’t buy what she is selling (Shadi, Steven, JDM, AA, Mingus). So, I’d take it as a good sign he is at least trying to steer himself away from her. Just my thoughts.

If she knows Norman is done completely she will soon change up her media game and start playing the victim like she did with JJ. Her lack of gloating on her IG and in her rags are all a sign to me she is sulking. But, once she is done she will devise her next game plan… It’s what she does.

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cindersinrags · 6 years

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Sadly, this is nothing new for the world of shippers, nor is it limited to the breeding pair of Twilight. Name a prominent pop culture property and the chances are there are hardcore shippers whose interest goes beyond a fizzy hobby. Some fans truly believe that Jamie Dornan and Dakota Johnsonare a real couple, which is hysterical because their chemistry levels in the Fifty Shades series are sub-zero. The stars of Outlander face the same shippers. Taylor Swift and Karlie Kloss are secret lesbian lovers, according to a subset of their fandom. Cate Blanchett will eventually leave her husband and children for Carol co-star Rooney Mara, thus freeing her from an exploitative bearding relationship with Joaquin Phoenix. The Larry fandom have yet to admit defeat, even as both Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson admit the fan delusions over their supposed secret romance hurt their real-life friendship. The Supernatural guys may never shake those conspiracies.

I could go on, listing the many other fandoms I’ve come across with these near identical conspiracies of secret relationships, hidden children, public relations bullying, and so on. From Scandal to Orange is the New Black to The Hunger Games, it’s as big a part of fandom as cosplay and dirty fanfiction. A lot of the time, the celebrities being obsessed over don’t even know it’s happening. If they call it out, as Robert Pattinson did, or mock it, like Armie Hammer recently did on Instagram after someone DM-d him to claim he should be gay like his character in Call Me By Your Name, then they write that off as simply proving their point. The majority of fans deride and condemn this behaviour, partly because it reflects badly on everyone else but mostly because it’s blatant bullshit that should be treated as such. What is most striking about these myriad conspiracies is how eerily similar they all are in terms of tone and content.

The basic set-up for a tin-hatter shipping conspiracy is thus: The pair are in love, the pair are in a serious relationship, but they have to hide it from the world because of ‘evil PR’. The nature of this shadowy public relations organization is never made clear. It’s mostly rooted in conjecture and a hazy understanding of how the entertainment industry has worked over the decades. Historically, publicists and studios have operated with a certain degree of shadiness. In the Golden Era of Hollywood, where studios reigned supreme, a star’s image could be kept on a tight leash and their indiscretions hidden from the public. Fixers like Eddie Mannix (made famous in the Coen Brothers’ movie Hail, Caesar!) could clear up all manner of problems if the occasion called for it. Pregnancies could be hidden, illegal abortions procured, marriages annulled or concealed, and even the occasional murder dealt with (allegedly). We know this stuff happened, and we know that today, publicists do a lot of work to keep their clients happy. That probably doesn’t extend so far as to covering up marriages and multiple pregnancies and fake babies.

That’s the sad part of this all. They won’t be proven wrong simply because they’ve invested too much of themselves into this fantasy. They run around in circles, desperately claiming everything is against them and only they are smart enough to know the truth. If Caitriona Balfe and Sam Heughan insist they’re just friends, it’s only to throw everyone off the scent. When Tony Goldwyn talks of his love for his wife, it’s just to distract everyone from his romance with Kerry Washington. If Robert Pattinson is smiling in public, it’s because he’s thinking of Kristen; if he’s looking a bit down, it’s because he’s thinking of Kristen.

Real person shipping (or RPF) doesn’t bother me in theory. If you just treat it like any other fandom hobby - safe, private, clearly fiction - then go for it. There’s a major difference between liking two actors and writing silly fanfiction about them and going to extremes to prove they’re actually married. The people who cross that line are a minority, but they’re a loud and insidious minority who shouldn’t be written off as mere ‘crazies’. This phenomenon is undoubtedly fascinating and reveals a lot about various intersections of celebrity, media, the internet, fandom, and so on. It’s worth keeping an eye on, if only to ensure nobody gets hurt, because it’s not unique to internet culture. This stuff breeds, and that should concern us all.

Now, when do I get my shadowy PR conspiracy cheque?

#Real Life Shipping #Scandal #Outlander #Where is the lie?#I wonder what happened to Carmen Sandiego?#Samcait shippers are kinda the worst at this point #and no you can't ship what you want if it affects those people directly #samcait #Terry #Those Terry fans were also the worst #The idea that those two people are trying to hide their relationship when in reality it would be great PR for the show?#Nah son

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studiotwelve52 · 4 years

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✨ I love how much Tyler loves dogs ✨ Seriously. Our company would not be as well known for being THISSSS level of dog friendly without him... What can I say - The dog crazy in me is balanced by the equally dog crazy in him... and thank goodness! It’s been adorable to see how much our clients’ dogs LOVE him over the years. When it comes time to get photos of just a pet’s pawrents alone Tyler gets to distract the furbabies with treats, toys, and attention... when I need photos of just pets during our pet sessions through @twelve52pets or close ups of pets during wedding/engagement photos for our couples he’s holding leashes, running them towards the camera, dispensing treats and love, and making ALL the interesting noises right alongside me. But you’d never know because I always have to do some magic and photoshop him + the leashes out in our final product shots. The results wouldn’t be the same, and we wouldn’t have the title of top dog-friendly photography company without Tyler. We’re the perfect team when it comes to incorporating dogs in photos. We kneel in the mud/snow, use all sorts of funny noisemakers, and obsess over how cute our clients’ dogs are TOGETHER. So, huge shoutout to my husband / co-head photographer / business partner who also ROCKS the role of professional dog buddy at every pup-inclusive photo session/wedding day. Click or swipe through to see only a few of MANY behind the scenes moments I’ve captured of Tyler and all of his friends over the years. But first, here’s Tyler with one of our six pups - Marvel. 🖤🐾 (at Apple Valley, Minnesota) https://www.instagram.com/p/CEFnHYMHPJ-/?igshid=1v0hami7eju7y

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sloth-hallo-hier-bin-ich · 5 years

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Analysis Parasite. (not a critic, a break down, spoilers possible) All unemployed basement family takes peculiar interest in the wealthy and glamorous family for their richness until they get entangled in an unexpected incident.

Tagline: unfair familyhood - one rich, one poor and one in the middle Beginning: A-Story (the family in the basement) It starts in a basement flat. Small windows to the streets, to life, the rest of the flat is in the underground, under the street. Than, the camera went down into the basement flat, to the people, a family. They life there, in the offside of life. (to the “dark” no one is looking at, to those people in the offside) It starts with the problem, that the family (a daughter, a son and mother and father) have no more access to the neighbors wifi anymore. Normally, they always hacked the password. But now? They are trying the opposite way and son and daughter are running with their smartphones in their hands up through the basement corridor along. The mother pushes the sleeping father with the foot, he should do something. They have no phone, and now no connection through the internet anymore. (my interpretation: the last connection to “normal life” is gone, the last chance to their mini job) = she cares about the family and reminds him too.

Father “Wifi is always at the highest point, my son”

On the wall, photos of the mother, where she is doing ballpoke. And she won medals (Foreshadow: she is strong and sporty). Son and daughter find wifi access again in the toilet, near the toilet bowl. They sit close together, watching their screens. Mother is asking, if what’s app is working, because she is waiting for Pizza Companys answer.

The whole family is folding pizza boxes. A kind of mini job. The father is watching a video, how you can do that by the quickest route, but he did it not proper. (The quickest route is not always the best way to do things. )They whole family gets payed less money, because of his sloppiness. But the mother and son are trying to get a job from the Pizza woman, who picks up the pizza boxes. They have really good persuasive powers, they really what a job, because no one of the family has one. We see their trying and struggle for existence, but in a kind of survival artist.

At night, the family is sitting around there small table, vermin lives with them in the basement. The father is having a little speech, kind of praying, with cans of bear. They look out of the small windows to the street, a drunken man staggers to the trash cans outside her window and they know, what’s coming, because it was happing before. He will piss against their windows, his pants are already at half-mast. They are angry about it, but no one moves to do something. They sit in their basement and watch.

At that time, a young man with a scooter stops and jelled at the drunken man. The young man drives the drunken man away, it is a friend from the son. And the family is happy about that, but they're also ashamed that he's visiting them in their dilapidated apartment. The father is asking the son, why he didn’t say anything, that he is expecting his visit. It is recognizable on his clothes, that the friend is a rich boy. The son didn’t know, that his friend is coming to visit his family. The friend is a student, and the son can not study, because of money (and status?). It is clear, that the son want to study. The friend hands over a big stone as a present to the father, with greeting from his grand father. The stone has a kind of effect (if you believe in that kind of “miracles” ) on everyone who has the stone: the owner of the stone gets success (or something like that). So the father is holding this (ugly) stone hopefully and thankful. (my command: Sometimes rich people collect such silly stuff, e.g. crystal animals, for some reason. A metaphor for abundance?) So, the friend brought something really useless in their (family) situation.

The rich boy and the son are sitting outside in front of a restaurant or bar. The rich boy is talking small talk “Your parents are looking good” Son “They are looking unemployed” And then, the rich boy offers the son a job.

(inciting incident? The rich boy and his job offer is the bridge to “the other world”. the protagonists wish - having a job and earning money, is getting closer.)

He should be a englisch teacher for a rich girl, because he studies abroad for a while. The poor son is wondering (why me? not say yes all right way). Why he is asking him and not others student colleges? The rich boy is sure that the poor son is good enough for the english lessons (the son did a english test 4 times maybe for other students to get through) But then comes the real reason: The rich friend likes the (rich) young girl very much, he is teaching english. He wants to ask her, when she starts to study, to be his wife. But he's afraid of the students of the union, he don’t like them. His is in fear of competition, so he is asking a “poor” boy (rich boys strategy) hopefully to poor and to unacceptable to the girl's rich family. So, the poor friend isn’t a threat to his status with that girl. That’s the rich friends strategy: the poor is good in english, but his status to low to be a “problem” for him. The rich boy is talking about the mother of the girl. She is rich, nice and naive. It should be easy to trick her. The poor son would ask his sister to fake the paper stuff.

The sister is faking with photoshop the students graduation in a internet coffee, while smoking. The brother is standing next to her, wondering about her “talent” working and faking with Photoshop. Back to the basement flat, the father is proud of the daughters work. And the father said “This is our chance” And the son said “I will be a student, and I will have this graduation, I've just already printed it out in advance.” (his wish, being educated as a student with a degree)

A-Storyline (basement family) meets B-Storyline (rich family in the big house) The son is walking into a street with green plants as outside decoration (a different another environment = contrast to the street of the basement flat). He is ringing a bell and is talking into a camera at a big house, the door opens automatically and he walks through a beautiful garden, he can’t believe it. A wonderful, modern house. A woman, the housekeeper, is waiting for him at the front door. The house belonged to a famous architect, the housekeeper had already worked for him. She admired his taste, his sense of art and music. The house is very stylish and modern. With the housekeeper and the boy, we explore the modern house and plastic arrows, because the little boy of the rich family is playing Indiana all over the house and shoots plastic arrows through everyone. He (fake student) boy can't get out of the amazement at all.

He looks at the family pictures on the wall and the drawings. The housekeeper has to awake the mother, she sleeps on the table in the garden. The housekeeper takes the small to the first floor, because he throughs arrows against the fake student. While the fake student ist talking to the mother of the daughter, his new student. The mother presents him the pictures of the family. The little son of the rich family is very gifted, but egocentric, an artist, she said. A little bit like the mother, with her three little dogs running around the house (all white:A Poodle, a Spitz and a Terrier) The mother checks the paperwork (with the Spitz on her bosom) of the boy and made sure, that she always wants to have the best people, with best educations (she never look at the humans, only the performance counts)

The mother wants to be part of the first lessons with her daughter, to make sure, the new teacher is the right one. And the boy knows her from the description of his friend and finds the right words to her daughter. He checks the pulse of the daughter and gives her advice to finish a test being under pressure. Not go back and hold on a question you can’t answer go on and fight through the units to the end. Now, he has the mother eating out of his hand, and the daughter looks kind of falling in love. Mission successfully. He has the job! When he left, the mother is talking about her artistic little son and that he had already many teachers, but no one fits quite well, the boy is faking an idea. He knows a very good teacher, a young artist girl he would like to introduce to the mother and his son. (the audience can imagine, whats next. his sister will play the artist teacher, another member of the family with a job!)

A short intercut to the A-Storyline into the basement flat to the poor family. Differences of living and sort of problems, contrasts of the two worlds. B-Storyline (with 2 A-Storyline characters) - two fake teachers teaching english and art at the rich family house The fake student and the fake artist teacher (son and daughter of the poor family) are ringing the bell form the rich family. And she is in. However she did it, the little crazy boy follows her better than anyone. He even bowed to her at the end of the first day. Also she wrapped the mother around her finger very quickly. The student teaches english to the girl of the house, the girl tells to the teacher, that she never can eat peaches, because the housekeeper has an allergy. The mother is very inquisitive about the art lesson, but the girl teacher was very clear - no parents at her lessons. Thats not good for the artistic development. And so the mother sends the housekeeper to bring fruits and lemonade to leash into the lesson. And we see how well behaved the little boy can be, it looks like - the daughter form the basement is a kind of wonder woman for this “artist” child. She also asks the mother, what happened to the boy, when he was one year old - and reverse - pregnant with meaning - to a “black” element on the right edge of his paintings. The mother starts crying, because her little sons saws a ghost at his 1 birthday and it was horrible. He can’t stay at home at this day anymore. The mother was very convinced about the therapeutic skills of the young woman. The fake student teaches english to the daughter, but she is jealous, the new girl (art teacher) irritated her. She artistic girl looks so beautiful! How he knows her? Do he like her more than she does? He makes fun out of it, and they seal it with a kiss, that he is in love with her, not with the art teacher (who is his sister). The rich father sits at the backseat of an black mercedes, a driver drives him back to the beautiful house. He arrives and his wife welcomes him enthusiastically and tells him from the new art teacher. The father tells the driver to drive her home, she resits (no one should know where she comes from), but the father forced her to go by his car and she can’t resit anymore, it would have seemed strange. The wife and the father recognizes the beauty of the young girl, art teacher. C-Storyline: Driver and the young girl (fake artist teacher, hiding she is from basement) So, the driver drives her in the black mercedes, flirty, but she wants to step out at a train station, because her boyfriend is waiting there for her (she lies again, to get out of his pick on). But she didn’t step out of the car, without leaving her slip underwear under the passenger seat, maybe to force the driver into problems.

A short cut to A-Storyline (basement family): The basement family is eating together in a fast food restaurant. with buffet. The father says “Eat as much as you can” and his son answers “Because we pay? Me and my sister?” and they sit down and talking about what a great chance the have. And the sister told them what she did and maybe there is a chance to get the father in as driver!” (another job ! The wishes of the protagonists come true. Bird by bird. They had to lie to get a chance, but doing a good job so far. ) B-Story - the rich family The father is sitting in his mercedes again, the young driver is driving. The father sees the slip under the passenger sit and puts it interested in his pocket. At home, he is shows the slip to his wife (she puts plastic gloves on and puts it in a bag). The father thinks about the chauffeur, which occurs him. He did it (with a women) just on his back seat, even on his side, where he always sits. “Normally you lose a hair clip or an earring somehow, but losing your panties there? What kind of girl must that have been?” His fantasy starts and he doesn't seem to be uninterested. The wife is listening also interested. But the action from the chauffeur is inexcusable. They have to find a solution to get rid of him. Of course they won't address the issue directly, but they don't want to him anymore as a chauffeur. Next time, the fake art teacher was in the house, the rich wife asks the girl about the chauffeur. And the girl tells the same story, that he was flirty, but she has an appointment with her boyfriend, so she didn’t let him know her address. The wife is reassured of the girl, but clear about the chauffeur. And she talks to the girl, that she may need a new chauffeur. Tata!! The fake artist teacher (girl form the basement) knows someone, a very nice man. The story shows enough, that the audience is guessing who this nice man is, the father from the basement. The author turns the audience into accomplices of the basement family. The audience knows their tactic and plans, how they're pushing resistances (the driver) out of the way to get jobs.

Short cut to the A-Story, while the son and the father are sitting in a mercedes and the son is explaining the father the modern board computer of a mercedes. They were interrupted, and they choose the another mercedes, because they are inside a car selling house, with a lot of new and modern car. And so the son makes the father fit for his new job - being the new driver for the rich father. (I think at the same time, they are talking about the housekeeper) The last position, which is not “changed” and the mother is still “free” to do the job. But how to get rid of the housekeeper? The boy has the important information, she has allergy on peaches, so that’s her week point, they have to trigger (a plan). When the daughter went by a kiosk, she took two peaches with her. Carefully she scrapes off the peach skin and fills it fibers into a mini box, smaller than a lip stick.

B-Storyline (with character from the A-Storyline basement family: father, son, daughter) The company of the rich father were he is surrounded form a lot of employees. The new chauffeur comes into the office, wearing a suit! (before he always wears just a underwear shirt). He is making a sign, and his new boss give him a sign back, just sit and wait. The father is testing playing stuff for gaming, that’s his job and company. When the boss father is sitting in the back of his mercedes, he holds a full coffee cup, just to test, how the new driver is driving curves, if he is good enough for him. And the father of the basement did well as a driver, the coffee doesn’t slop over. The housekeeper is working in the garden, while the basement daughter (fake artist teacher ) puts her the peach skin into the neck of the housekeeper woman. And she at once becomes a allergy reaction: She must be coughing incredibly hard and can't breathe.

C-Story: Housekeeper woman (and A-Story character: the basement father) The housekeeper woman is at the hospital, the basement father has followed her and he makes a selfie from himself, but takes care, that the housekeeper is also on the picture. B-Story: rich wife and basement father from A-Story (in the car, i think) He shows the photo to his boss, the rich wife. He says that the housekeeper was ill in the hospital. And he was listening to her phone call, actually she jelled around, that she has tuberculosis! He manipulates the rich wife with a total wrong story, it was the peaches fruit which makes her cough. But the rich woman was thrown into insecurity, the first step of the fathers plan to kick the housekeeper out of the job for his own wife was made. The basement father was in the car with the rich wife, telling her that housekeeper sorry.

B-Story at the big house: rich wife, basement father, basement daughter (A-Storyline) and housekeeper (C-Storyline) When the rich wife arrive at the house and the basement father carries her stuff behind her, the basement daughter puts peaches stuff in the neck of the housekeeper again. And the housekeeper coughs again and runs into the kitchen, throwing away a tissue. The rich wife looks alarmed! The chauffeur looks like - what I told you. And goes to the trash, pushes (hidden to the rich wife) red sauce on the white tissue and than pulls the tissue with the “wrong” blood out of the trash - he looks to the rich wife like “ I am so sorry, but I was right.” It is about hygiene, he says worried to the rich women. That’s a kind of trigger word for the rich wife. She says, the housekeeper must go, she will not tell her anything, she will find a way to get rid of her. It’s because of the children’s safety and health. Cut to - C-Storyline housekeeper: The street in front of the rich house and the housekeeper is walking along with suitcases and bags, her faces shows unbelievability and her eyes looks mortified. (it looks like - the rich wife executed as soon as possible and it makes no difference, how long the housekeeper had done a good job - fire and hire)

B-Storyline (with A-Storyline character - the basement father) is driving as a chauffeur the rich man. The rich man is talking about his wife, that she is overwhelmed with the household alone. She is not suitable for cleaning and she cannot cook. The chauffeur asks “even so you love her ?” The rich man thinks a second. “Even so I love her. But we need a new housekeeper”. For sure, the chauffeur, the basement father knows someone. And so, the rich family becomes a new housekeeper - the mother of the basement family. With new hair cut and clean clothes, she looks like a new woman.

A-Storyline (i think they were all eating in a restaurant again) The basement family is celebrating - all have jobs. The father spends a quick moment to the young man, the chauffeur before him - if he might be have a new job? Of course, he will. He is young and looks nice, he will find a new job, the father reassures himself, otherwise he would have a guilty conscience about having taken his place. The son asks about his next plan. The father answers “If you have a plan life never works out that way” And the son and mother are talking about the rich family and that the son like the rich girl. He wants to ask her to be his wife, when she starts studying (the same words, his friend told him, who got him a temporary job as a teacher.)

B-Storyline (with A-Storyline character - the basement mother): the rich family plans a trip off side. Camping, because the young rich boy wants to play indiana. He whats to sleep in a tent. The young boy is with the scouts and the pawnbroker teacher likes Indians so the boy likes Indians and from the teacher the boy has this spleen - the rich mother thinks out loud to her new housekeeper. The housekeeper should prepare everything for the camping trip. The housekeeper went downstairs, into the big house and rich basement (it looks more like a delicatessen shop than a basement) to put the stuff together. The rich wife also talks to the art teacher of the son, that they leave always at the sons birthday, because of the ghost he saw at his first birthday. The basement daughter went well along with the little rich boy, he is making pictures, while sitting next to her in a tent. The rich family left the house, all in the car, the father as the driver. The housekeeper brings the last stuff. B-A-Storyline: in the rich house, all A-Storyline character are there The basement family occupied the house of the rich. The son is laying in the bed of the rich girl. The family is laying in the garden, the mother is throwing a ball on a chain as in her early days as a sports women and she lets go, the iron ball flies, a window breaks somewhere in the neighborhood. The family applauds her. The sit in the living room, drinking and eating, because it starts to rain. And it is a heavy rain. The living room looks messi already, glasses, bottles, chips and stuff is laying around. The boy is reading the diary form the rich girl. The sister is asking, why. He likes her much. The father prays some of his toasts, as the door bell rings. The whole family is frightened and wonders who this can be, in the middle of the night, because it is already dark. The mother checks to outdoor camera at the bell. It is the old housekeeper woman, she stands in heavy rain, her face looks injured. The housekeeper woman said, she has forgotten something she what she desperately needs, she needs only a short moment. The mother is friendly and insecure what she's supposed to do. She feels sorry for the former housekeeper woman out there in the rain, which her family kicked the woman out of the housekeeper job by unfair means.

#parasite #bong joon-ho #author #director #ensemble staging #parasitemovie

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