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friendly-neighborhood-imbecille · 2 years

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Summary: Maddie offers phantom a truce

The woods were always calming after a long day of fighting ghosts, avoiding his parents and trying and failing not to fall asleep in class. The air was clean and cool, both humans and humanoid ghosts tended to avoid it for the most part, it was far enough away from the city that he could see the stars unobstructed by streetlights, and sometimes he was able to catch glimpse of the occasional opossum, skunk or armadillo. But best of all, it was peaceful. No loud banging noises or crashing out of nowhere, no yelling or explosions, it was the perfect place to get a good night’s sleep. Especially when he couldn’t stay over at Sam or Tucker’s house.

It was nice to be able to get away from everything for a little while, just lie down on a tree branch and watch the forest.

Of course, sooner or later, something eventually always disrupted that peace and quiet. A faint electronic beeping sound faded into existence, echoed by twigs snapping underfoot. It grew louder and louder, and soon faint muttering was added to the list of sounds. Danny instinctively turned invisible and started floating higher up into the tree to put more distance between him and the possible threat steadily moving closer.

A teal figure made its way through the trees, waving a metal device back and forth in front of it before stopping right underneath his tree and looking around as if searching for something.

“Phantom, I know you’re here. I’m not going to hurt you, just come out.”

Danny hesitated before slowly making his way down to the lowest branch on the tree. It was tall enough that he would be far out of reach, but low enough that conversation wouldn’t be difficult.

“Maddie, what are you doing here?”

Maddie craned her head up to look to the source of the voice, then put the tracker in a bag on her belt and lifted her goggles and her hood to reveal her face.

“You helped us yesterday with that Spectra ghost, I’m here to offer a truce.”

Danny’s eyes widened in shock. “Really?”

“Yes, do you accept?”

Danny swung his legs over the side of the branch and started kicking his feet in excitement. “Yeah, of course, I’ve been trying to form an alliance between us since-” Maddie held up a hand to cut him off.

“Not an alliance, just a truce, and on one condition.”

Danny shrunk into himself and tensed slightly in preparation to flee if necessary. “What is it? Cause if you want to study my insides I’m gonna have to say-”

“You answer a couple questions.”

“Oh.” He forced himself to relax again. “Okay. Ask away then I guess.”

“January 12, 2004, why did you kidnap Mayor Montez?”

Of course that was the first question, but at least now he had a chance to explain himself. And since she was asking for an answer, maybe she’d actually listen to him this time.

“Okay, no, I didn’t do that.”

Maddie pinched the bridge of her nose in annoyance. She never believed him when he said that, probably because he’d never been able to explain what he meant by that before being shot at before. “But we saw you, we were there.”

“But I didn't do it!” Danny protested, gesturing wildly in frustration. “He was possessed, he grabbed me and made it look like I did that. I was completely framed.”

Maddie raised an eyebrow. “Well, if you’re so innocent, why did you shoot at us that day?” She smirked as if she’d caught him in a lie.

“I thought you guys were possessed too. Is that so unbelievable? I’ve said that like, a million times before.”

“And April 8, 2005?”

Danny flinched and scratched the back of his neck. “Okay, that ringmaster was mind controlling me. You saw his weird swirly staff, that thing was like, magic or something. And didn’t you go to his show? Didn’t you guys notice something off about that guy? And all the loot ended up in his train, doesn’t that seem at least a bit suspicious?”

Maddie paused to think. “I suppose so. Where do you go when you aren’t hunting ghosts?”

“What?”

“You know, where do you stay?” Maddie crossed her arms and tilted her head. “It obviously isn’t the ghost zone, you get to the fights too fast for that.”

“Oh, um, well, the park is a nice place to sleep, lots of, uh, trees?” He swung his legs back and forth in unison and patted the trunk of the tree he was sitting in for emphasis.

“You don’t have a haunt?”

He shook his head. “No, and if I’m being honest, I don’t really know what that is.”

“Hmmm.” Maddie held her chin in thought for a couple seconds before a look of realization took over her face. “How old are you?”

Danny froze, he didn’t really want to answer this one. Any concrete information would lead to digging, and he couldn’t risk that.

“Do you mean physically or?” He trailed off, scratching at his shoulder.

“When did you die, how long ago, how old were you then?”

He hunched into himself and hesitated before responding. “Well, I’m not gonna give you specifics, but around 2 years, and early teens.”

“I was thinking so, around 12-13?” Maddie tilted her head questioningly.

Danny did a double take. “Do I really look, wait, no, not gonna respond to that.”

“And what was your name before you died?” Maddie grinned “I’m assuming it wasn’t Inviso-Bill?”

“Again with that?” Danny groaned. “And nope, not gonna answer that one.”

“Okay, then you can answer this one instead. What did Spectra mean about your parents?”

Danny froze. He was hoping that her and Jack hadn’t heard what Spectra had been saying to him during that fight. A lot of what she had said, he wasn’t ready to face himself, let alone tell others, or even let them know. “You listened to all that?”

“It would be difficult to not have considering she said it while we were fighting her.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true. Look, my parents aren’t bad people, they just…” He trailed off, thinking of what to say. He didn’t want to tell her any of this, didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but if he said it as phantom then it didn’t really matter, did it? She had no way of knowing it was about her. “They shouldn’t have been parents.”

“Why is that?” To anyone else her voice would sound the same as it did earlier. Cold, logical, and curious, but he could hear something different. She almost sounded concerned.

“Well, they sometimes don’t, they didn’t notice when I was missing, or when I was hurt. I mean, once I broke my arm and they didn’t even know it.” He should probably stop talking. Just because he could say this didn’t mean he should. This wasn’t really the best time for this conversation. This was too much information. “They forgot to buy food sometimes, and they, it feels like they cared more about their work than me.”

“Their work?”

“Yeah, they worked on some pretty dangerous stuff. It’s actually how I got to be this way, you know, not alive.” He needed to stop talking, but he couldn’t. Even though he was shaking, even though his throat had started to close off, he kept going. “I don’t blame them for it, I was messing with stuff I knew was dangerous. But maybe there shouldn’t have been a possibility of it happening at all, you know? Maybe the adults should have been in charge of that, enough that I wasn’t able to get hurt at least. I could tell that they really loved me, but it hurt, knowing that I’d always be second place to a cluster of metal.”

He felt out of breath just from talking, his core was thrumming a million miles a minute, like he had just narrowly escaped some horrible fate, he couldn’t believe he had just said that, he wished he hadn’t said that, but at the same time he felt relieved, like he had just set down a giant weight he had been carrying for years.

It took Maddie a few seconds to process the information, but when she did, she looked almost sad. “I’m sorry that happened to you, you didn’t deserve that. No child deserves that.”

Danny looked down to his feet. “I guess not.”

They both stayed frozen like that for a couple minutes before Maddie stretched her arm up.

“I look forward to working with you Phantom.”

Danny hesitantly floated down and shook her hand.

“Same here.”

#danny pantom #danny fenton #maddie fenton #my fics #fanfiction #The Fentons' A+ parenting

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tellthemeerkatsitsfine · 2 years

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The announcement of John Oliver inexplicably doing the Horne Section TV show, despite having spent years trying not to have anything to do with British comedy, has reminded me of my hobby: collecting anything that ties John Oliver to British comedy. Why am I so invested in this hobby? I don't know, it's clearly displacement of some psychological issue or other, something about finding satisfaction in histories that connect things that seem disparate, I don't have time to figure it all out now. Don’t worry about it, just enjoy my collection, which I have decided to collate into one post and put it below the “keep reading” link.

Obviously, there are the actual shows he did before he left Britain, and things he did after he left Britain that continued what he'd started to do while he was in Britain, which was to talk shit about politics with Andy Zaltzman. Here’s a folder I have with recordings of things Zaltzman and Oliver have done together, before and after one of the two abandoned their country for America.

My favourite pictures of John Oliver + British comedians:

This one I first saw a couple of years ago when I read David Mitchell’s autobiography, and I’ve seen it floating around the internet a fair bit since. Based on my research, which consists of spending over two years being on Britcom social media a lot, it may be the most widely shared of all photos in this post. That makes me feel a bit bad for the one guy in this picture who didn’t get famous, since every time it gets shared, he gets described as “that other guy”. I will do him the courtesy of referring to him by his name, which is Desmond O’Connor. Wikipedia says he’s a “ukulele-playing cabaret host and musical comedy performer”, so that’s fine.

The other people in the picture are, of course, John Oliver, David Mitchell, and Richard Ayoade. It’s from an unspecified time during their Cambridge days, probably around 1996:

The exact year of this one is also unspecified, as is the reason why they’re sitting in a tree. Oliver and Ayoade at Cambridge, mid-nineties sometime:

Cambridge Footlights group picture from 1996, featuring, among other people, John Oliver, Richard Ayoade, Matthew Holness, David Mitchell, and Lucy Montgomery. The man who is now a cabaret host is noted as absent that day:

I don’t know what’s going on in this next picture. I’ve seen it labeled as a Cambridge picture, and they all look like students and appear to be on a campus. But neither Noel nor Julian ever went to Cambridge. Was it a Tim Key situation where they just hung around Footlights despite not being students because fuck the class system? We’ll never know, because I’ve never found any context for this picture. But it does feature John Oliver, Julian Barrett, Noel Fielding, and Richard Ayoade, looking young and confused.

We now move into the post-university years. Here is a picture from 2004 of two men who both have their original teeth because no one has yet had cause to try to make them more telegenic:

And here is a poster for a 2004 double bill comedy show, in which Russell Howard and John Oliver have specifically posed for promo shots, but both look worse than they did in the nice picture above this paragraph, where they were just sitting around being normal:

We now move to 2005, when John Oliver took this promotional picture for The Department, a radio show he made with Chris Addison and Andy Zaltzman (the radio show also featured Matthew Holness and Lucy Montgomery, who appeared in the previous Cambridge picture), which can be found in the Google Drive folder I linked early in this post and should be listened to by everyone because it’s really good, not just good as a nostalgic “look at the quirky BBC Radio Four show where these now-famous people started out” thing, it’s legitimately good:

Here is John Oliver with his double act partner and soulmate Andy Zaltzman, performing a joint show at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival in 2005:

I’m not sure exactly when or why the next picture was taken, so I’m adding it in here. Trying to decide what to write about it, I almost said it gives me nightmares, but that wouldn’t be true. This picture doesn’t give me nightmares, it just keeps me awake at night, wondering what on Earth the photographer told them to do while they were posing, and what was the thought process behind those instructions:

We now move to 2007, and this one almost doesn’t qualify for a collection of “John Oliver + British comedians” pictures because he’s with an American and a Kiwi, but Kitson’s British so it counts. Daniel Kitson, Kristen Schaal, Jermaine Clement, and a John Oliver who looks even more uncomfortable than usual, presumably because he’s realized the taking of this picture means he’ll be forever immortalized with a weird skull on his shirt:

One more Oliver and Zaltzman picture because they’re lovely people who make incredible things together and I want a nice one to make up for that insomnia-inducing one - this is a promotional picture for The Bugle, probably taken around 2009:

And finally, I will jump forward a bunch of years to this picture at a baseball game with Daniel Kitson in 2015:

Some videos of John Oliver + British comedians:

This one was recently taken off YouTube, I think, but luckily I never trust things to stay on YouTube so I have this downloaded, and have re-uploaded it to my Google Drive so I can still share it: Backstage at Cambridge Footlights, 1997 (featuring, among other people, John Oliver, Richard Ayoade, Matthew Holness, and that woman who played April in Peep Show and was in an episode of The IT Crowd)

A game from the infamous Tuesday comedians’ football league (”league” might be the wrong word... would “syndicate” be better?), I think this one’s from 2001. It features four people I know well: John Oliver, Andy Zaltzman, Lee Mack, and Russell Howard. It also has a few people I sort of know, like Alun Cochrane and Gavin Osborn. I think there’s a guy named Steve Williams, who’s written on Russell Howard’s TV shows. Narrated by a comedian named Ben Norris. John Oliver is easy to pick out despite the terrible quality video because he's the only one in track pants instead of shorts:

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Some shit that went down at the Gilded Balloon on August 26, 2003, the last night of the Edinburgh Fringe Festival. Featuring Adam Hills, Daniel Kitson, John Oliver, David O’Doherty, and Demitri Martin. No more needs to be said about that night. I assume the Chocolate Milk Gang has a pact called We Don’t Talk About the Night of August 26, 2003, when they sacrificed the animal that provided their sustenance throughout the festival (again, terrible quality video, but to pick out John Oliver he's the one in the red shirt):

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A compilation of John Oliver’s best bits from Mock the Week (a show on which he appeared seven times from June 2005 to February 2006), though to really appreciate John on there, you should watch the full episodes. You need to see the moments that didn’t make his list of “best bits” to fully understand how visibly and obviously he hated every second of being there:

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From The Russell Howard Hour in December 2017, this is one of my favourite interviews that I’ve ever seen:

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Here he is being interviewed on The Russell Howard Hour again, this time in September 2020 and under COVID-safe circumstances (conducting interviews with Russell Howard under physical distancing is probably safer for John anyway, based on the end of the previous interview):

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Miscellany of John Oliver + British comedians:

Here's a quote from Russell Howard on his BBC 6 Music radio show from March 2007:

"A few years ago, I remember saying to my friend John Oliver, who is now on The Daily Show and is very funny, ‘Oh I’ve read this new book, it’s really good.’ And this was a few years ago, and he’s like, ‘What is it?’ And I go, ‘Oh, it’s called the Da Vinci Code. It’s a real page turner.’ And I was kind of into it. And I really enjoyed it, it was before it got really [popular]. And you feel like an absolute oaf for kind of going, ‘Yeah I read it on holiday, I quite enjoyed it, I did it in about two days, it was all right.’ And like two days after I said that, John went, ‘You know that book you quite enjoyed?’ And he showed me, and there was an article in the paper, the Chelsea football team had set up a book club, and they were all reading the Da Vinci Code, and Frank Lampard was there reading it, and you go, ‘Hm. Yeah. Well.’ And it’s just so awkward when you think, ‘I’m reading the same stuff as Frank Lampard.’ How awkward’s that?”

There was another early episode of that radio show when Russell Howard and Jon Richardson made a joke of texting something weird to a random person from their contact list. The random person Russell Howard got was John Oliver, whom they described as a friend of Russell’s who was “now in the States, working on The Daily Show.” Jon got upset because he got a promoter from some comedy club, and said it wasn't fair that he had to text the stupid thing to an important person while Russell only had to text someone who doesn't matter like John Oliver.

Zaltzman and Oliver being quite awkward while filling out a questionnaire for their 2004 Edinburgh show.

Nish Kumar telling the story of how he finally met his esteemed predecessor, when John Oliver was in England at the end of 2017.

There's the saga of the Chocolate Milk Gang, which is told, as far as I can tell, mainly through weird articles like this one, David O'Doherty interviews, and stories in Daniel Kitson’s stand-up. There are also quite a few stories just about John Oliver in Daniel Kitson’s stand-up. There's this shit. Also that time when Marc Maron interviewed John Oliver and spent the whole time being weirdly dismissive and condescending about anything non-American, and was specifically sort of backhanded compliment-y about Daniel Kitson, which I believe to be the reason why John broke from his usual rule of insisting everything he did in England was terrible, and said actually he had an okay career there and he made some cool stuff and some people liked him and Daniel Kitson was his best mate and fuck off, Maron. The last one might have only been said subtextually. In that interview, John also told some cool stories about how at Cambridge, he and Richard Ayoade were comedy writing/performing partners and friends who bonded over both not coming from the same class background as most people at their university.

Not documented in this post: Gash, an Armando Iannucci show from 2003 that featured John Oliver among others and I have not been able to find it anywhere on the fucking internet. I have a video of a soccer game from 2001 and two different angles of the same night at the 2003 Edinburgh Fringe Festival, but I cannot find this actual Channel 4 television show.

Do you know what isn't featured anywhere in this collection? I have become an expert on John Oliver's ties to British comedy, and in all the ties I’ve been able to find, here’s a name I’ve never seen come up: Alex Horne. I do not understand. If I'm going all Beautiful Mind on this, which I am, there is no string connecting John Oliver's name to Alex Horne's. I can get there in a few moves - the more you get into British comedy, the more you learn that you can get anywhere in a few moves. John Oliver to Daniel Kitson who did a play with Tim Key, who's also doing the Horne Section show. I'm sure a number of other Chocolate Milk Gang members have done the Mark Watson marathons. But I can't see any direct connection to Alex Horne, and I have checked (not just because of the announcement of the new Horne Section show's cast or anything, I already knew this stuff but that announcement made me decide to collate it in one post). I'm almost sure they just missed each other at Cambridge, though they could have overlapped by one year.

I do not know why he’s picked The Horne Section’s show as his reason to do British TV in 2022, after spending years insisting that he wants nothing to do with British TV. I am definitely going to watch the show and I hope it will shed light on the situation; this post should capture something of the scale of my interest in that sort of thing.

#Youtube

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breesays · 6 months

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rest in peace, my bad muse

Sometimes, instead of starting a new chapter or working on a new blog, I'll go back into a draft to add details. Or edit. Last night, I opened up the section about PJ, which is the second-longest essay next to Tim's. Moreover, I don't think PJ ever lived in or even near California. We met in Florida, flirted in SoCal - but only when work (a tour) brought him to town - Yellowcard, Anti-Flag, The Get Up Kids. I was involved with PJ from 2003 to 2013, when I changed my phone number and severed a bunch of contacts. I say involved with but I really mean in contact with. The height of our situationship was from 2003-2005, and yes, I am loathe to list dates because lord only knows how many other girls he was "dating" at the exact same time. I know of three at least. He wasn't a stand-up guy. I've spent plenty of time cursing him.

Last night when I Googled his name, I found an obituary. PJ is dead. He passed away in January of 2021, at 36 years old. I watched a 23-minute memorial montage set to "Ocean Avenue." Then I cried. No, I wailed. Are we allowed to grieve for people who weren't awesome? What's the protocol?

I didn't want him dead, I just wanted him to be a better person.

When the band fired him, I was told to cut off contact. I did, for awhile. I liked how reactive he made feel - like a live wire - a bad muse, maybe - is there a word for that? ("Is there a word for 'bad miracle'" -Fall Out Boy)

I was with PJ when I found out about Asexuality, about AVEN. I was 24 years old and for the first time I wanted to want to have sex. Read that again. I (cerebrally) wanted to experience want (physically). Instead, I had a panic attack in the bathroom of a Motel 6 in Ventura. He was very kind about it, which was weird, because he was, in general, unkind about plenty of other things.

The first time I wanted to want to is actually significantly more crucial to my personal timeline than the time I actually DID IT.

Since he was a compulsive liar (the only personality disorder I can confirm by my own account), I'm sure he rewrote that story in his head. Now we'll never know.

Did he become a better person? I know he got married, and divorced. The obit didn't mention a bio kid, even though I know he has one out there.

How do we grieve for the unsavory sort?

One time he told me he had abdominal cancer. He did not.

He is the first person I exchanged "I love you"s with, even if I was super skeptical about it. We actually had a few fights about how he believed I loved him, but did not believe I was IN LOVE with him. I think I said something to the effect of, "This is as good as it gets with me, man." That tracks, right?

Also, is it worth mentioning that he was 19? I mean, I know guys who've just NOT been shitty their whole lives, sure. He had time to grow out of it.

Did he?

Would it be less sad if we knew he was still lying for sport?

In 2004, I flew him out to OC for a few days to hang out. It was a total disaster, of course and after I got home from dropping him off at LAX, I burst into tears. My mom said, "Oh, do you love him?" I said No, I was sad because I didn't have my computer to write about it, about him. Which was the truth.

My bad muse.

One time I told him I was writing and book and he was in it. "You can't do that" he texted. "It's illegal." I laughed.

There has never been much info about him online. Our fling was pre-social media, thus his thriving un-network of girlfriends all over the US of A.

So, is the pain less permanent for the undeserving?

Listen, no one liked him. He was a liar, a cheater, and just really bad with people. All of his girlfriends in the aughts were of the secret variety, including me. I didn't, at any point, try to defend his character. Of the few people I texted to see if they'd heard (it happened nearly 3 years ago, after all) I half expected an "I know, because I murdered him" reply.

How do we mourn the bad guy?

Rest in peace, PJ Oxenfeldt.

You were my first love, even if you didn't deserve it.

#pj oxenfeldt #rip #breesays

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razelssacredplace · 1 year

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Hey Maggots, I wanna start a discussion! Of the major members of Slipknot, being everyone who was a fixture onstage from 1999-Present (2022), what do you think was each individual's best song live? I'll start us off:

#0 Sid: I honestly think that Sid is always at his best when People=Shit is on. His scratches are always on point and he's just out there having his best time ever.

#1 Joey: It feels like a copout given that it's one of the most popular clips of him, but I really think Joey was in his wheelhouse during Eyeless. One could also argue Spit It Out given the 2009 Download drum stunt, but I really think it didn't get any better than Joey blasting out Eyeless like Marlon Brando owed him serious debt.

#2 Paul: Among many things about him, another thing I miss about Paul were his improvisations for Vermilion. If you listened to the 9.0 and Download performances, you can always hear him add in something here and there that isn't on the record, and it somehow completes the song even more.

#3 Chris: Now I know people are gonna be thinking Sulfur or Custer, but there is a completely different song that I think Chris Fehn made his fucking bitch. The Nameless throughout 2004 and 2005. They didn't play it often, but when they did I think it's safe to say that Chris overshadowed the fuck out of Corey. Every scream was on point and absolutely brutal.

#4 Jim: He's got a lot of songs that he does super well, so this is a little difficult to call. However I have to say that Jim is actually at his best, in my opinion, when he's playing Dead Memories. I know this is likely gonna piss someone off, but Jim takes his improv style and seems to dial it up to eleven during Dead Memories, and it absolutely sounds beautiful.

#5 Craig: What is there to say about The Silent One? Killers are quiet? Lol, Craig is very hard to pinpoint during a show, and I think it's unfair to say that his best is Vermilion. No, instead his best is probably during the 2008 performances of Only One. Why? It's simple. If you know, you know.

#6 Clown: Clown's performance has steadily declined since Iowa. It's my opinion that his vocals have gotten very poor, especially during Disasterpiece these last few years. But where is his strength really brought out? During Psychosocial imo. There's nothing funnier to me than seeing him dancing while hitting the percussion during that song, he always seems so bouncy and happy. And unlike Duality's keg bat, it's not always something you notice.

#7 Mick: Señor Siete is a fucking beast, no way around it. He's a punisher like no other. Therefore I give Eeyore to him by virtue of the blistering speed of that song. As a guitarist myself, fuck that.

#8 The Great Big Mouth: If anybody owns Spit It Out besides Joey, it was Corey fucking Taylor. Even if the speech has gotten old, there's still never been anything more fun in my life than being in the back row of an arena and jumping the fuck up with thousands of other people. But what does Corey Taylor think?

Jay: Do you know why I feel robbed? Because if Slipknot had the fucking balls to play Red Flag then I guarantee you it would be on here. But it's not, because they've not yet played Red Flag. So instead, Jaypay has owned Vermilion during every step of the way. And I will spoil the rest of the list by saying that Vermilion will not appear again, it's just that Jay's double pedals during Vermilion, especially Day of the Gusano, are fearsome. Maybe he's just showing off or something, but it always pumps me up. Jay owns that song.

V-Man: V-Man hasn't gotten a lot of opportunity to shine. Alas, if only they played AOV more it would surely be here. But they haven't in a while, and so I can't say for sure how well Alex does with that solo with certainty. So if it's not AOV, then what? Well, if I may be a hypocrite and if I may completely disregard what I just said, The Dying Song is so far Alex's strength. It may not be the best song in the catalog, but Alex does really well with the bass run. However I will say that if Acidic gets played live, then this will change because I love Alex's bass work on that song.

Tortilla: Oh dear Pfaff, you who are so wise in the ways of batshit insanity. If The Nameless was Chris' bitch, then Nero Forte is your bitch. I honestly hope Nero Forte gets added to the setlist again, because Mike did really well with it in 2020 with his limited vocals, and it sounded really good at Knotfest LA last year. With how he still only improves his vocals, I can't wait to hear how he does it in the future.

But that's my thoughts Maggots, what say you? What songs do you think these individuals perform(ed) live the best?

#metal music #slipknot #wanyk #slipknot the end so far #slipknot ahig #slipknot vol 3 #slipknot iowa #slipknot self titled

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lastchancevillagegreen · 4 months

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Tuesday, 2 January 2023:

The Darden Smith bundle.

In 1989 I bought my first, and last, Darden Smith album. It was Evidence and actually it was by Darden Smith and Boo Hewerdine. It was fantastic, but I never investigated either artists any further and I was fine with that. Sometimes it just happens, one album by an artist is sufficient enough to carry you through for the rest of your days.

But these days I tend to explore the entirety of an artist's catalog, buying everything by them and listening to them chronologically so I can hear growth, change, whatever over the course of that person or band's career.

This stack of ten CDs you see in the photo above is not the entirety of Darden Smith's catalog. This stack essentially covers his discography from 2002 to 2022 (roughly, I'll break it down at the end of this entry). That excludes his work from his debut in 1986 up to 1993 when he released six albums. I would always rather hear an artist's earlier years than their later years if I have to do an abbreviated catalog study. Quite frankly, I'd rather not even study Smith's career, no offense to him.

Here's how it happened. My brother, the original Mr Catalog Study has been doing one on Smith since last year. He will occasionally post a Darden Smith song on God's Jukebox and it is generally good. But honestly, I'm a hundred years old and I've heard Americana music to death and I'd rather not engage with a new artist (to me) in that genre at this moment in time. I have a dozen other full catalogs to explore that I've not yet heard, so an Americana artist is way down low on my list of catalog studies. Still, my brother's enthusiasm bled over into my mind. And then he told me on Smith's website he is selling ten of his albums on CD for $50. What a deal! In my greedy mind ten albums for $50 is such a bargain why would you ignore it?

I almost hit the buy it now button on Smith's site but then I came to my senses. The last thing I wanted was ten late career albums by an artist who never intrigued me beyond the aforementioned Evidence, which is so good, I pulled it out and began playing last September when my brother bought his Darden Smith bundle.

Well, I was playing Evidence a lot, late at night. Mrs Echo was gone again for a week at a time and I'll often sit upstairs late, playing albums, having a couple of Shiners and evidently, after a few beers from Brew Works, I went home and played Evidence and had a couple more drinks and then...

...I awoke in the morning to a Pay Pal receipt in my email telling me I authorized $50 to Smith. I was so unhappy with myself that I ignored the fact I did this. That was September. Quite frankly I forgot about doing that foolish act until Christmas when my brother came to town and he told me he had to write Smith because it has been four months and nothing has ever shown in his mailbox. Smith himself responded that he has had distributor problems or something, I've already forgotten because I didn't want to be reminded of my failing will power. Long story short, Smith assured my brother his package will arrive shortly. I knew that must hold true for myself, even if I no longer wanted the damn things.

I am so angry with myself, my lack of will power, my greed and my enjoyment of Brew Works/ Shiner Bock. Oh well, now I'm stuck, I'm not buying more Smith, his catalog study will include this stack of ten and then I'm done. I don't need 18 Darden Smith albums crowding my CD shelf. Ten is bad enough.

Starting at the bottom of that stack in the photo above, here are the ten albums:

Deep Fantastic Blue (Plump Records) (released in 1996)

Sunflower (Dualtone) (released in 2002)

Circo (Dualtone) (released in 2004)

Field of Crows (Dualtone) (released in 2005)

Ojo (not on label) (released in 2006)

After All This Time: The Best of Darden Smith (Darden Music) (released in 2009)

Marathon (Darden Music) (released in 2010)

Love Calling (Compass Records) (released in 2013)

Everything (Compass) (released in 2017)

Western Skies (not on label) (released in 2022)

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specmmorg · 2 years

Text

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The album Recovery was created in the rapper’s signature style and it turned out to be an excellent present for the artist’s old fans and for all the lovers of hip-hop.TOKYO XTREME RACER ZERO PS2 ISO – No Grandstands, no checkered flag, just pure head to head competition. It was not a surprise that this traditionally strong record debuted at the very top of numerous charts: Eminem still has a lot to say to his listeners. The seventh studio work titled Recovery saw the light in 2010. The record showcased the rapper’s creative ability to work on and on. Relapse (2009), proved to be, perhaps, the darkest work done by the artist so far with not tiniest spot for his widely known sense of humor. Dre as producer, prepared the new studio album. The sixth studio album by Eminem received the title Eminem Presents The Re-Up. In September 2007, he made an announcement that a hiatus made for personal reasons had come to an end and that he had been preparing a new album. It was a compilation of the rapper's best songs. In reply, he released a new record called Curtain Call: The Hits. In 2005, speculations emerged on Eminem's plans to wind up his career. Afterwards, Eminem took some rest from his music activity and went into producing. The next album Encore was released in November and within a couple of days flew to the tops of the charts. In 2004, the same song brought him two more Grammies. In the same year, Eminem was rewarded with Oscar for Lose Yourself as the best song for a movie. Nevertheless, he won three awards at Grammy-2001 and expressed his gratitude to those who had taken his album as music and not as a reason for a scandal. Many public organizations stepped forward against Eminem. Eminem proved his bad guy reputation causing chaos in Hot Rocks Cafe in Detroit as he leveled the gun at one of the visitors who kissed his wife Kimberly. The album featured such immense hits as The Real Slim Shady, Stan (for chorus, Eminem sampled the young British female singer Dido's vocals) and The Way I Am. Some criticized the rapper for extremely aggressive lyrics, while the others, on the contrary, praised Eminem as the best white-skin rap singer. This scandal did not affect the sales of The Marshall Mathers, Eminem's second album, as it started on the first place in the American charts in May 2000. Just like the first record, this CD brought about controversial response. She claimed 10 million dollars for the moral damage the rapper had done to her. Eminem's songs terrified his mother and she brought an action against him for the rude utterances concerning her, made on The Slim Shady. The album immediately ran third in Billboard, which inspired Eminem to work hard on the following album's material. Full of violence and obscene lyrics, this album turned out a commercial success thanks to tracks My Name Is and Guilty Conscience, which video versions never left MTV. The Slim Shady, the young man's debut long player, became a challenge to the society. Dre himself.Īs a result, Eminem was signed by Aftermath Records, a label owed by Dr. In spite of this failure, in a year, Eminem released a sarcastic and mocking short album called The Slim Shady Lp to feature his 'dark alter ego'. In 1996, Eminem recorded his demo Infinite that was left without much attention because of abundance of suchlike music in Detroit. It is an extremely rare and hard-to-find record today due to the small number of copies released and the band's lack of financial support. Eminem had his debut in 1995 as a member of Soul Intent. Aged 13, Marshall started writing and recording his own rap. These years of suffering later influenced Eminem's art works. In summer 1983, Marshall was beaten up so severely that he spent ten days in coma. He found it hard to get used to new surroundings and had to change the school regularly. In the end, they settled down in Detroit. Marshall spent all his childhood moving from one place to another with his mother. When the baby was six months his father left the family. Eminem (Marshall Bruce Mathers) was born in 1972, in St.

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truthshield · 2 years

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Sandeep Jain of GeeksforGeeks shares his journey

In 2009, Sandeep Jain started a blog with one intention: to help engineering students prepare for placements. What started as a blog is today a Rs 40 crore+ annual revenue edtech company with more than 250 team members. In a conversation with Siddhartha Ahluwalia, Founder and Host of 100x Entrepreneur podcast, Sandeep deep-dives into his journey, from leaving his engineering job to becoming a teacher to 10 million+ registered ‘Geeks’ from across the world through his startup GeeksforGeeks. Engineering his dreams Growing up in the city of Firozabad, Sandeep says he had seen really bad quality teaching. Sandeep, who did his schooling from a municipality school, started teaching while he was at school – he used to teach his elder brother who was weak in academics. With time, this love for teaching became stronger and stronger. This – along with the poor quality of teaching he was witness to – set him on his mission to provide quality education. “If we leave a few exceptional teachers, there are very few teachers who are passionate about teaching, who just [joined the field] because they wanted to [teach]. I saw my teachers; they were preparing for jobs in software companies, and they were teaching us.” Sandeep says he “strongly” felt “like I can help here”. “And I can teach better than many other people who have been teaching me and [help] improve this system.” He completed a bachelor’s degree in engineering in 2004, and joined M.Tech at IIT Roorkee in 2005. Following his passion Sandeep says he always knew that he wanted to be a teacher and realised that he was an average employee at DE Shaw, an investment management firm, as he wasn’t “enjoying it”. “So, I just decided to leave this software job and went for a teaching job. I did not know how difficult this decision could become for me because I did not discuss it with many people. I just resigned and then told everybody in the family and my friends. Most of them felt like I was being fired from the job,” Sandeep recalls. But he dove into his passion whole-heartedly, doing a nine-to-five teaching job and working on GeeksforGeeks every night and on weekends. He initially hired a team of four people, three interns and one full-time employee. He also got top quality coders to help develop the platform. One thing at a time Sandeep’s love for teaching inspired him to create a platform which is used by 22 million developers and aspiring developers from around the world every month. He has kept it almost free for developers, so that any Tier 3 or Tier 4 developer or aspiring developers can learn coding and improve their prospects. Explaining what kept him going, Sandeep says, “As a bootstrapped company, we did not have any choice that we could do anything else. Because if you are building a business, it’s very important that you focus on one thing only. When you diversify into multiple things, without much money or resources, your existing business might also be impacted. So for a long, long time, we just built the content business.” It was only after the content business went into autopilot mode, that he thought of diversifying and doing something around coding. Today, he claims to get good traffic for coding on GeeksForGeeks. To know more, listen to the podcast here: 03:07: From growing up in Firozabad to growing the love for coding 07:20: Joining DE Shaw & Co after graduation 09:24: 30% Salary cut in his first teaching job v/s being a software engineer 10:00: Starting GeeksforGeeks in 2009 16:03: Hiring the initial team 18:26: Annual revenue growth from Rs 18 lakh to Rs 40 crore+ 24:12: Learning the skills and growing in the role of a CEO 30:35: Growing against well-funded competitors Edited by Teja Lele Desai https://ift.tt/aZhUgyR https://ift.tt/ALh7aCT

#Saas #softwaresystems #productdevelopment #software #practice #optimization #accuracy #efficiency #productivity #softwareprojects #cracksthecode

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duxpuella · 3 years

Note

ahhhh your blog is awesome!! i really liked your post about little things charlie does in a relationship, do you think you could do the same for knox and/or neil if you have the time? thank you so much <3

Headcanons of little things (fanon) Knox O. would do in a relationship with (gn!) reader

<Atention: Modern AU where Neil lives, and Welton’s a boys & girls school.

Warnings: Fluff;>

Note: Y/n - your name/ Y/Ln - your last name/ Y/fn - your friend’s name; Also, thank you so much! I appreciate the feedback and I hope you like it!

Also, here’s my Knox playlist, hope you enjoy it!

font;

Dating Knox is... well, an experience. You don't have a boyfriend, you have a devotee. And the only deity in his pantheon is you.

He will often write poems about you, especially sonnets. You might expect flowers very often too. He's down for the big romantic gestures.

Knox loves romantic comedies and dramas. So marathons are always his pick for dates. Cuddling while you both watch a good 2000's rom-com and eat popcorn? Yeah, he loves it. He will cry in the most emotive moments, please comfort him?

His favorite movies until now were:

50 First Dates (2004);

13 Going 30 (2004);

About Time (2013) and he cried so much on this one you got actually worried;

Music and Lyrics (2007) and he spent at least a week singing Pop! Goes my Heart at you;

Pride and Prejudice (2005) ;

Lalaland (2016), spent two weeks crying in a row. Poor baby :(

500 Days With Summer (2009);

Love Actually (2003);

Nothing Hill (1999) and at this point you've noticed he's a bigger fan of Hugh Grant than yourself;

10 Things I Hate About You (1999) and he performed Pat's number to you at the local karaoke;

He will not ask, but buy him flowers, please? His favorites are daisies. Also, if you show up with a flower crown, this boy will MELT.

Knox is very, very, very needy. He needs you like the air he breathes. So he will be touching you all the time, whether is his pinky with yours or resting his head on your shoulder.

He will need a lot of reassurance as well, baby boy is very insecure. After the first two months, he'll chill with all of the needinesses. But still, he will be clingy, reassure him for the love of god (i beg you).

You're royalty to him. Superior in all levels, as I said, he's a devotee. You can expect to be put on a pedestal and worshipped daily.

Knox is the true form of a golden retriever bf. He will often not understand what's on your mind but will listen and be supportive all along.

"You're upset... what happened?" "Nothing, I'm fine." "Babe, you're not fine. Please, don't lie to me... what happened?" "It's silly, I'm just insecure with my looks... that's all." and he looked at you as if you were speaking an old cryptic weird language he did not know. "But... you're perfect... I don't understand...?" he was legitimately confused, especially since you started laughing at his comment.

His pet name for you is Babe and its variations. It's simple, lovely, and casual. He loves it.

He will look at you so smitten all the time, even after months of the relationship.

Small, handmade, cheap, expensive. It doesn't matter, you will be showered with gifts all the time. Doesn't matter the occasion or event, if he saw something that reminds him of you (which is a lot of things) or thought of something you might like, he will buy it. Don't argue.

Whenever you’re feeling down, Knox will cuddle and listen to you. He will caress your angelical face and, if needed, dry your tears. He will be there for you, to comfort you whenever needed.

Finally, he LOVES to share his bed with you. You, sleeping in his arms all night? Yeah, that's his cup of tea. Will caress your face and back gently with his thumb, until you fall asleep. And when he wakes up, will watch you sleep with the loveliest gaze you ever saw on someone.

Hope you like it! I take requests by ask! (info on requests);

Also, you’ll find more of my writing here.

#duxpuella headcanons #dead poets society #dps fandom #dps hc #dps headcanons #dps fic #fanon knox #knox overstreet #knox overstreet x reader

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johannesviii · 3 years

Text

This is a long post about Shaman King I started to write ages ago and I don’t have a good title for it

Let me tell you about Shaman King for a few minutes, okay. Because the new anime adaptation is coming in like 3 months and I’m still not ready for it. Also I started to write this post 5 years ago just because I re-read the whole thing at the time and it’s been in my drafts since then. Oops

But yeah Shaman King was the very first fandom I got into when I first had a real internet access, around 2003-2004. I was around fifteen. The manga was still going. And in retrospect, it was full of problems. Among other things:

Not enough female characters & questionable choices for most of the ones who actually have a part to play in the plot

A black character drawn with big lips (see above), and I REALLY HOPE this is gonna get fixed in the new anime ; I mean even the author stopped drawing him like that a few years ago when he did the “remix tracks” extra chapters so come on please

An imaginary native american tribe who, while pretty cool, is still imagined by a Japanese dude in 1999 soooo yeah there’s some rough corners here and there (edit: got some anon hate about that but I'm sorry, "ancient aliens" tropes always make me uncomfortable)

An art quality which gets worse and worse over time due to deadline pressures and an increasingly exhausted author

Was stopped before it could reach its natural conclusion (the author drew an actual ending years later and tbh it’s great so I’m putting this very low on the list)

So yeah. Manga from 1999. Problematic. Aged badly. It happens.

BUT.

In retrospect, most of it is such a kick in the metaphorical butt of shonen manga as a whole I can’t believe it was competing against Naruto and One Piece at some point?? Like

It’s a shonen so it plays the "dramatic and sudden power jump” game, but it uses it to reach a surprising conclusion (in the “new” ending I mean)

Most of the characters are “shamans” which means they can see ghosts and spirits, and they use them to fight, to work, or to help other people. This is a manga in which you’re gonna see a Russian shaman channeling a Vodyanoy spirit into a drum to create a torrential flood. You don’t see that in every manga

It’s stated right away that no shaman can be truely, irredeemably bad, because only good-natured people can see ghosts and spirits.

So, no matter how bad a villain may be, they must have had a good nature once even if they look like a complete bastard at the moment.

How far is the author willing to go with that concept? Pretty far

Even without talking about the main villain and how the story ends because, duh, spoilers... Like

My favorite character, who gets a full redemption arc later, cuts someone open in his first chapter

He’s one of the good guys 10 volumes later

Speaking of which the amount of gore in this manga has to be seen to be believed, Jump would never let this happen nowadays

If you’re wondering why this is in the “positive” (......?) list it’s because I was 14/15 and all kids that age crave blood and angst

The main character, Yoh, pictured above, is very laid-back, and I mean very. He listens to the in-world equivalent of Bob Marley and constantly wears big headphones. Also he wears sandals, and sometimes there’s a weed leaf drawn on his t-shirt

His parents arranged a mariage between him and a girl shaman even though they’re still teenagers, so this would have potential for High Drama - but surprisingly enough it turns out they like each other and after that he just goes around saying “this is my future wife” and she’s like “hello if you touch him I’m going to end you”

It sounds weird and it......... is, tbh, but it’s also refreshing among all the “ugh, girls, yuck” tropes that nearly all shonen mangas used to have at the time

Yoh’s main goal in life is to live with minimal effort

When his grandfather tells him he must train to participate in a shaman tournament which happens every 500 years, because the winner gets a wish granted by the Great Spirit, he decides his wish will be to make everybody’s life easy so that nobody will ever be forced to work or do shit they don’t want to do to survive anymore

Yoh Asakura is a Millenial icon don’t @ me

Speaking of which

Almost everyone in this series is broke as f█ck

Yoh owns a big house but that’s only because the price was ridiculously low since it’s the most haunted place in Tokyo and nobody else wants to live there. The house is constantly full of other characters (including enemies) who have literally nowhere else to go

The only important character who isn’t broke has money because his family is super rich but he hates all of them because they’re all bastards so it’s super awkward

Another character bought a really cool motorbike but he’s going to be in debt for the next 40 years

Also he’s a hobo

And also bi

What I’m trying to say is: relatable

Also the tournament is held by an imaginary Native American tribe. They’re also broke. All of them. The two judges who are in charge of the main characters live in a cramped appartment and often try to sell souvenirs in the street to pay the rent

I know that’s hashtag problematic but I still love them I can’t help it

Just like in most shonen mangas the hero seems to amass a big collection of Friends but since everyone is a weirdo in a way or another and comes from all over the world it looks even funnier

At some point during the tournament, the main characters have to form small groups of three in order to participate to the next part. Yoh’s team is one of the strongest teams among the ones we’ve met at this point, and is composed of 1) Yoh, a laid-back sleepy kid wearing toilet sandals 2) the aforementioned bi hobo who’s sad because his current crush is in a rival team, and 3) a thirty-something tatooed guy with no legs and an IV drip and who looks like he hasn’t slept since 1997

Oh and they all wear adds for a bath house

Because remember: everyone’s f█cking broke

Spoilers for the mid-point of the manga but I need to talk about it because it encapsulates everything I used to love in it

You’ve been warned

At some point the main character, Yoh, is asked to choose between staying in the tournament or resurrect his rival

This is framed as some kind of very heavy, very huge dilemma. Like oh no what will he do. Will he give up his dreams and hopes. Will You Push The Button(tm)

So the choice is presented to him

In a very dramatic way

And he immediately goes “there’s a way to save him?? YES PLEASE”

He doesn’t hesitate a single second and drops the tournament in a heartbeat to save the guy

This scene greatly contributed to make me a better person I’m not even joking at all

I love Yoh

So anyway I don’t have a proper conclusion for this

Shaman King is very flawed and its flaws need to be acknowledged to fully appreciate all the good things in it, and the “old” fandom from more than 15 years ago was a very good formative experience for me because the forum I was on (which was nuked from the face of the internet by a hacker “looking for training grounds” (his words not mine, he posted it on our frontpage a full week before he did it) in 2005, rip) was full of people who were really into criticising every little aspect of the manga but still loved it dearly

And I think that’s a healthy way to enjoy things and I think we should bring this back

Anyway

Shaman King extremely flawed but full of good things

I still can’t believe it’s back

Johannes out

#long post #shaman king #spoilers #mild gore in written form at some point

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katytheinspiredworkaholic · 3 years

Text

Correspondence, Chapter 01

Pairing: HotchReid

Summary: An AU where Reid never joined the FBI, but got roped into consulting for the LA field office while working and teaching at Caltech. Hotch gets his email referred from a fellow agent, and they start to work on cases together -- until they start talking on a regular basis. Regular becomes frequent, frequent becomes constant. They know nothing about each other, but they don't really mind.

Rating: Mature/Explicit (eventually)

Chapter CW/notes: some profanity, a side character who is a dick about Reid, set in season 06, self beta’d

Word Count: 2437

Masterpost Link

Ao3 Link

Chapter 01

March 2010

Dr. Spencer Reid

(Current Tenure: California Institute of Technology): Fred Kavli Professor of Theoretical Physics and Mathematics; Director, Walter Burke Institute for Theoretical Physics, Department Head of Mathematics, Physics, and Astronomy at Caltech.

- (Degrees, in order) Ph.D. Mathematics, Caltech, 1995; Ph.D. Chemistry, Caltech, 1997; M.A. Nuclear Science, MIT, 1999; Ph.D. Engineering, MIT, 2000; M.A. Sociology, Columbia University, 2001; M.A. Philosophy, Georgetown, 2001; Ph.D. Psychology, Georgetown, 2002; M.A. Applied Analytics, Columbia University, 2003; M.A. Socio Economic Statistics, MIT, 2004; M.A. Geology, Caltech, 2006; Ph.D. Geography, Caltech, 2006; M.A. Economics, Caltech, 2008; M.A. Brain and Cognitive Sciences, Caltech, 2009

- (Teaching positions, in order) Professor of Mathematics, Caltech, 1995-1997, Professor of Mathematics and Statistical Analysis, MIT, 1998-2005, Visiting Associate, Georgetown, 1999-2002; Professor of Chemical Engineering, MIT, 2002-05; Kavli Professor, Mathematics, Caltech, 2005-; Professor of Theoretical Physics and Mathematics, 2006-; Deputy Chair, 2005-; Director, 2008-.

“Jesus.”

The dossier is just an information sheet; no photo ID, no news articles beyond text component pieces, but it is a thick stack of correspondence and case consultations that S.S.A Aaron Hotchner holds in his hands.

“Five Ph.D.’s and eight separate M.A.’s in fourteen years? What was he doing before that?”

“Who knows? You don’t earn a Ph.D. overnight, even if his accommodation sheet makes ‘em look like they pop up like mushrooms,” Mark Anderson says, audibly tired through the phone speaker on his desk. He was one of the Unit Chief's from the teams at the FBI L.A. field office, who’s phone number was given to him by an old friend, Sam Cooper -- another BAU team leader. Hotch had hit dead end after dead end on this case, and sitting at his desk in Quantico, Virginia, he looks down at the recommended consultant’s extensive list of degrees and teaching positions with a building headache behind his dark eyes. He wasn’t a fan of Anderson, or his briskness, but at this point he’d take anything he could get. “I’m pretty sure that man has never lived outside an academic field. He’s a handful, runs my agents up the damn wall, but he knows his stuff.”

“I hope so. I’ve been on the phone the past three days trying to find someone with a background in Obscure Cognitive Linguistics,” Hotch reads from a separate file, filled with violent images and depraved acts described in morbid detail. “Our unsub sites a very particular thesis about a Study of Language from a Cognitive and Developmental Law, and I keep getting sent to experts in adjacent fields. I don’t see anything in this Dr. Reid’s background about language.”

“Oh, trust me, Hotch -- you’ll get more than you bargained for. This is your guy. He’s basically an expert on everything, and if he doesn’t know anything about languages I’ll eat my tie. He never shuts up.”

Frowning at the speaker phone, Hotch keeps his comments to himself. He’s sure that Anderson probably doesn’t appreciate having an old professor puttering around the field office, but that didn’t mean he had to insult the man. Especially when he was there as a consultant.

“Okay, fine. Thank you. I’ll give him a call now-”

“Oh, you don’t want to do that. Just send him an email. Trust me.” Anderson all but groans like a petulant child. Graining on Hotch’s nerves excruciatingly.

“I’m sure he’s busy enough with his students, he doesn’t need to be fielding emails from the FBI,” Hotch hedged, still frowning.

“Not too busy to write you a dissertation in reply, I’m sure, but you’ll at least get the answers you need. You could be on the phone with him a half hour before you get to what you called about. Hopefully it won’t take you too long to sift through.”

Alright, now he is done listening to the other agent.

“Right. Thanks, Mark.”

“Anyti-” Hotch hangs up on him before the man could make any other remarks. His patience is non-existent after the past week and this extremely brutal case that only seems to compound exponentially in it’s viciousness with each passing day. If Anderson felt like being an asshole to some old man with nothing better to do than rack up Ph.D.’s, he could do it on his own time. Hotch needed help, and this man seemed to be the only person around who might be able to finally do so.

Dr. Reid’s office number is in front of him, as well as about three different lab location phone numbers, and one email address connected to the school faculty. He considers for a moment just ignoring Anderson’s advice and calling the old professor, but he has a meeting with his Department Chief, Strauss, in twenty minutes and the team would be arriving from canvasing the dumpsites soon.

So with a suffering sigh, Hotch pulls up a new email (for what feels like the millionth time for this case) and composes a standard correspondence introduction. Who he is, credentials, case numbers and specifics as far as clearance rates for civilians go, and then finally the questions he needs answered. There is something about this particular thesis that has to be very tongue in cheek to the unsub, saying something that isn’t really there, and this could just be another dead end -- but if it led to them saving a victim from becoming another dead body, he is willing to give it one last try.

Thank you for your time, S.S.A. Aaron Hotchner Unit Chief, Behavioral Analysis Unit, FBI Quantico, VA.

Then he hits send, and leaves the response up to the universe.

The team came up with nothing fruitful. Strauss proceeded to ream Hotch six ways from Sunday for wasting valuable bureau resources and coming up with zero results. His day was spinning down the drain in a hellish cyclone when he sits down behind his desk in his office an hour after leaving it. Case files still piled to one side, grotesque photos stacked within them, and Aaron Hotchner wants nothing more than for them to disappear. For the case to be solved and to be able to go home to his son and his quiet house. But there was no break in sight, no new information, nothing.

Except a new email in his inbox.

Agent Hotchner,

I know that thesis paper well. I can help you.

All air seems to have been sucked from the room as Hotch reads the words a couple of times, not quite comprehending after the morning he has had that someone wasn’t giving him more bad news. That this Dr. Reid said he could help him.

A single click of the email opens up the correspondence reply, and the agent is met with a giant wall of text. Scrolling down for pages, and a quick skim of the material shows such a complex, comprehensive amount of information that there is no way it’s just copy and pasted from any one source. Or even several. It’s a long email spanning a vast number of pages, covering every topic he had asked about (and then some).

The thesis paper, the tongue-in-cheek citation from the unsub, how this killer is acting like he’s being clever when it’s really ‘very obvious what he’s doing, as long as you know the paper’ and detailed links and quotations and references to locations and side tangents on items mentioned that could be evidence to look for or weapons of choice, and so much else Hotch’s head feels like it’s spinning. Like reading the cliffnotes of a complex spy novel, with all the spoilers in one place.

It takes him half an hour to read through everything Dr. Reid sent, meaning the professor had to have been typing a million words a minute from the moment Hotch had emailed him to get everything replied so quickly, and Hotch was baffled to realize that an old man with a handful of Ph.D.’s and no FBI training just solved his case.

Not a figment of speech.

Dr. Reid just solved the case, without even holding the file in his hands.

Hotch is dialing a phone number on his speed dial without even looking away from the screen.

“Garcia? Call the team into the briefing room, and phone SWAT to mobilize. We’re going down to the riverfront in thirty minutes.”

“--Wait, what are you talking about? Did you figure out the unsub’s code?”

Not me, Aaron thought to himself, standing up and printing Dr. Reid’s email after forwarding it to the entire team and their tech analyst, Penelope Garcia. He didn’t have time to explain it that many times, and the amount of information in that single email would be enough to send any of them tumbling heels over head. But it solved every aspect of their case. Hook, line, and sinker.

And the clock was ticking.

“Now, Garcia.”

He rushes from the room with the stack of files in his hands and his laptop open to Dr. Reid’s email. Not even thinking to thank the man for his help as he heads across the bullpen with profound determination.

They have work to do.

They catch the unsub that very day.

Quick, efficient, completely by surprise. They saved Amanda Sutton and another girl they hadn’t even known was missing. No one died. None of his team was hurt. The unsub hadn’t confessed, but Rossi and Morgan had played him like a fiddle in interrogation and now all of his team members were walking to the elevators leaving for a long weekend where they wouldn’t have to worry about serial killers or another dead soul on their conscience. Today was a win. As close to a win as they ever can get, in their line of work.

And it isn’t until he’s back at his desk, the hours ticking into the night, that he opens up his email and there in his inbox is the very reply that started everything. Dr. Spencer Reid. CalTech Department Head. Professor of everything under the sun. Expert on anything, even the obscure.

The reason Hotch will get to spend the weekend with his son, without the overbearing aftershocks of a case gone so horribly bad plaguing him.

His hands are moving before he can stop them. Opening up the email, typing out a response to Dr. Reid thanking him for his help. Relaying what happened, detail by detail much in the same fashion he had completed the paperwork piled on his desk. Letting him know that his information really did end up helping them. All of it. Even the side tangents.

I don’t know how I can ever thank you for the extensive consideration you gave this case, or how to explain how it solved it so seamlessly, but your time and effort does not go unnoticed by me.

Okay, so maybe he fluffs it up a bit more than the dreadful bullet-point list descriptions required by the Deputy Chief and the Director and SWAT Team justification reports. Just so it doesn’t look so inadequate in comparison to the man’s thesis-paper-length email he sent to aide Hotch and his team. The passion he has for his work leaps off the page, but it was a lot -- and if the old man put that much dedication into a basic FBI correspondence email, then he was probably used to it being a thankless effort.

Hotch sends the reply, and continues with his work. He always takes a bulk of the paperwork, so his team can go home and rest and recharge. He needs them at their best for each case, and if that means he spends a couple hours longer after when they finish a case, it is worth every minute. But this time, once he finishes, he gets to take the coveted time off as well.

It’s as he’s finishing up, everything stacked neatly and ready to be dropped at records, in the mailroom, Strauss’s office, the director’s, and he’s about to log off his laptop that he sees a surprise -- Dr. Reid replied to him, again.

It’s much more brief this time.

Agent Hotchner,

I’m so glad I was able to help you.

You are one of the only agents to reach out and tell me how the case went after my consultation, and I’m very grateful to know that my information actually helped your team catch the killer. I know I tend to spout facts at random, but I do have methods to my madness and it’s such a nice change to correspond with someone who understands that.

My services are always at your disposal. Anytime. Whatever I can do to help.

Sincerely, Dr. Spencer Reid

Hotch types out a brief reply. Thanking him for his offer, for lending him his expertise, and letting him know in not so many words --

I’ll have to take you up on that.

He’d be a fool not to. Someone with that much knowledge and the ability to connect it all in the way Dr. Reid had in the span of an hour? He could be a real asset to the BAU, as a permanent consultant, even through email correspondence.

He sends the reply just as he stands to leave. Turning off his office light, and his chest feels lighter for the interaction. For giving the professor that sense of assurance that what he had to say did in fact do some real good. Hotch even finds himself smiling softly, sadly, that he has also found a little bit of solace in helping another lonely old man across the country find a sense of purpose that night. Who was working late, as well, despite it being the end of the week. Speaking to not much waiting for him back at home, in whatever shape ‘home’ takes for the man. But Hotch can relate to that, too. Jack is at Jessica’s until the morning, and there is nothing at his apartment to greet him but silence and bare walls and memories he’d rather not dote on. Maybe this Dr. Spencer Reid is in a similar boat, finding comfort in his work when he can. He certainly seems to, with the amount of time he’s poured into his doctorates and degrees. In the number of departments he runs and monitors.

Hotch can’t help but feel a connection, a companionship between empty offices. Thousands of miles apart, but maybe -- possibly -- at least similar in that aspect.

Not so alone, even if only for a brief moment.

(tbc...)

Tagged list: @spencehotchner @ssa-sarahsunshine @gothamapologist @reidology @marsjareau @dragon-snaps-fandom @emmyraebird @just-an-emo-rat @aaron-hotchner187 @dk18077 @more-heid-pls

#omg i forgot to do tags #Jesus so ive been so excited for this and here it finally is and i fuck it up .2 seconds in go me #this is a S L O W B U R N fic and we are starting all the way at the beginning and im so excited im kind of shaking #updates every saturday evening #message me if you want in on the tag list #also on ao3 #HotchReid #Heid #katyswriting

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letterboxd · 3 years

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A Cinematic Outcoming.

From Istanbul to Chicago, and C.R.A.Z.Y. to Spirited Away, Letterboxd member, writer and film programmer Emre Eminoğlu explores the films that drove his gay awakening.

“I see it as my duty to never shut up about how representation matters.” —Emre Eminoğlu

I was one of the luckiest ones, yet I had no idea how lucky I was. Growing up in Istanbul, Turkey, a predominantly patriarchal, conservative and homophobic society, my luck was being born into an open-minded, secular and loving family.

In this bubble, I was isolated from the struggles of the majority of my people. I was not bullied at school by my peers, I was not forced into being someone else by my family. Yet I still had that voice in my head. As soon as I realized something could be different with me, I became my own bully and forcefully adopted a fictional persona: ‘exceptionally normal’.

Coming out was hard, but coming out to myself was harder. Although I was perfectly aware of my sexual identity, I could not come to terms with the possibility of being ‘abnormal’. Cue cinema. Watching films was a way of escape for high-school Emre—it still is—and it was inevitable that I would come across some LGBTQ+ films. I was not consciously in search of a ‘truth’ about myself but I started seeing my reflection in them, as they slowly disarmed the bully I involuntarily created.

Twenty years later, now, as a 34-year-old gay man professionally writing on cinema and television, I see it as my duty to never shut up about how representation matters. Streaming LGBTQ+ shows on various platforms, seeing widely released, mainstream LGBTQ+ films, listening to the music of openly LGBTQ+ stars, and hearing words of wisdom like “If you can’t love yourself, how in the hell you gonna love somebody else?”, I am confident that the personal, inner bully that I created twenty years ago would not survive a week in today’s world.

‘C.R.A.Z.Y.’ (2005)

Jean-Marc Vallée’s C.R.A.Z.Y. (2005) was definitely not the first LGBTQ+ film I ever watched, but it was an invaluable juncture in my life. It was a hot summer in Istanbul, freshman year of college was over. One of my best friends, who had been accompanying me through most of my cinematic discoveries, told me about a French-Canadian film with this guy on the film poster with David Bowie makeup on his face. We headed to an independent theater in Kadıköy to see it.

Zachary Beaulieu was different. As the lone gay son in a family of five boys, he too was forcefully adopting a fictional persona, and his way of escape was music. He was constantly worried about how to be worthy of his parents’ love, how to realize their ideals of him, and how his difference and truth contradicted all of that. Zac’s 1960s basically mirrored my story in the 2000s. I perfectly muted the life-changing enlightenment I was going through and did not vocalize my inner screams.

In two hours, C.R.A.Z.Y. helped me realize my true self and admit my sexual identity after all those years. It was a personal threshold I had been longing to cross… but there was still a lot to go through.

‘Les Amours Imaginaires’ (Heartbeats, 2010)

Liking someone, falling for someone, being loved, dating someone, sex, refusals, misinterpretations, heartbreaks, break-ups, bad sex. On the other side of the closet, I was being introduced to new, sometimes euphoric, sometimes gut-wrenching experiences. But coming out to my friends was still a challenge. I was feeling so lonely keeping all these wonderful and horrible experiences in my chest.

But I was not alone: LGBTQ+ films were my life’s understudy. The same heartbreaks, worries, and disappointments I was going through were right there on the silver screen. I took note as two best friends, Francis and Marie, fall for the same guy and navigate their friendship in Xavier Dolan’s Les Amours Imaginaires (Heartbeats, 2010). I studied how a popular student, Jarle, falls for the new guy in school, but cannot risk his reputation to be with him in Stian Kristiansen’s Mannen som Elsket Yngve (The Man Who Loved Yngve, 2008) and I watched as close friends Tobi and Achim become lovers, until one’s need to keep everything secret threatens to destroy the relationship in Marco Kreuzpaintner’s Sommersturm (Summer Storm, 2004).

Things were not always accessible via online platforms and the internet, so film festivals were often the only chance to see the latest independent and queer films. Two of the biggest film festivals in Istanbul, thankfully, had LGBTQ+-focused sections; !f’s Gökkuşağı (Rainbow) and Istanbul Film Festival’s Nerdesin aşkım? (Where are you, my love?) felt like home.

‘Tomboy’ (2011)

Being the lone avid cinephile among my friends, I was used to seeing half of my festival picks alone. Even before coming out to myself, my hopes for a romantic relationship included, among other things, having a festival partner. When I, fortunately, found the one, I was delighted to have also found the perfect festival partner. Shortly after our first month together, the first film we saw at a film festival was Céline Sciamma’s Tomboy (2011).

Although I was a 24 year old cis man, I was more than able to empathize with the title character, a ten-year-old trans boy. With his family unaware of his true identity, Mickaël experiences the liberation of a fresh start when ‘mistaken’ for a boy after they move to a new neighborhood—finally able to introduce himself as Mickaël, not Laure.

Changing my career path, a new job in the creative industry, and a stable relationship had similar effects on me. I was still not completely out to my parents, or some of my friends, schoolmates, and acquaintances from my past, but I was freed of the obligation to explain anything to my new friends or colleagues. I would proudly introduce them to my boyfriend, or simply correct people by saying I was attracted to men during a conversation. The perfect festival partner turned out to be a perfect partner as well—over the past ten years, he has helped me grow and be proud of myself.

‘Weekend’ (2011)

We moved in together in the fifth year of our relationship. Right above our bed hangs a poster of Andrew Haigh’s Weekend (2011). At the time we saw it, it was just another film that we watched together and liked—no significance, no symbolism. It is the story of two young men, Russell and Glen, who are fascinated by the connection they find between each other, and are surprised how their one-night-stand evolved into the perfect weekend. When Glen reveals that he will be leaving for another country the very next day, it only makes their connection stronger, and their time together more precious. Being a timid and socially anxious person, none of my romantic relationships or my friendships had formed this organically. Even my first date with my partner was a disaster. We built what we have now over time, slowly and patiently. I did not believe in ‘weekends’.

And yet, one summer night, we met a guy on Grindr, as we occasionally did. What we thought was just another one night stand was in fact a transformative experience for us both. Intense conversation, a triple connection, the drinks we enjoyed instead of hurrying to bed, and the passionate sex turned that casual one-night-stand into a magical reality for us. We realized that we still had feelings and instincts to discover in ourselves and in each other. Over a week-long, unexpected, unpredictable polyamorous fling, we learned to act as one instead of two—only to find out that he was leaving for another country the very next week. This was our ‘weekend’.

‘Hamam’ (Steam: The Turkish Bath, 1997)

Thinking how LGBTQ+ films of other cultures and languages had played a significant role in some precious, threshold-crossing moments of my life, it was alienating not being able to feel embraced and represented openly in Turkish cinema. There were certainly multiple Turkish LGBTQ+ films or characters, but they were in films addressing more urgent issues—right to live, violence against LGBTQ+ individuals, honor murders, trans murders—rather than the nuanced experience of queer love.

Although I discovered it years after it was released, Italian-Turkish director Ferzan Özpetek’s Hamam (Steam: The Turkish Bath, 1997) was a mind-blowing experience for me. The relationship, and the sexual tension, between Francesco, the Italian heir to a building with a Turkish bath in it, and Mehmet, the young son of the family managing the compound, felt much closer to my story and my cultural, familial identity.

Aşk, Büyü vs. (Love, Spells and All That, 2019)

Today, I am glad to see more and more filmmakers finding the courage to maintain the LGBTQ+ narrative in Turkish cinema, despite the oppressive, intolerant and exclusionary policies. Some are telling the youthful, urban stories I was longing for at the time: In Leyla Yılmaz’s Bilmemek (Not Knowing, 2019), Umut, a high-school athlete from a middle-class family in Istanbul, is bullied by his so-called modern and open-minded teammates after not replying to a query about whether he is gay or not. In Ümit Ünal’s Aşk, Büyü vs. (Love, Spells and All That, 2019), Eren and Reyhan, two adult women reunite in the magical atmosphere of The Princes’ Islands on the Istanbul coast, decades after they were forcefully separated by their parents.

The story of me coming out to myself all started with an urge to escape reality through cinema, and on the way, I found films that gave meaning to my muddled existence. When I saw Levan Akin’s And Then We Danced (2019), I smiled as I noticed the Spirited Away poster in Merab’s room; this minor detail another reminder that I was not alone. Merab, a gay dancer who is part of a very traditional and conservative Georgian dance company, was dealing with similar challenges in his life. He was trying to discover his true identity in a society that does not celebrate being different. He was too, finding an escape in cinema.

Coming out was hard. It still is. A recent Instagram post by the 27-year-old actor Connor Jessup, who came out as gay two years ago, reminded me coming out is not a single moment, but a never-ending process, a ‘becoming’. He writes, “When I first came out, a friend wrote to me and said, ‘Now you can really start coming out.’ Start? I thought. I just did it. But he was right. […] I’m going to keep trying. I’m going to keep looking.”

I keep trying, and looking. Learning about myself, my identity, my relationship. And LGBTQ+ films keep helping and inspiring me, just as they did in my journey to accept myself and become the person I am today. This is the power of cinema; unconsciously, you see your past, actuality and possibilities through the stories filmmakers tell. And I am so grateful to these filmmakers.

Related content

The Ten Greatest Turkish Films of All Time, according to the Turkish Film Critics’ Association

Emre’s Favorite LGBTQ+ Films: a personal top 50

Queer Films in Turkish Cinema—a list by Atakan

The Top 100 Turkish Movies of the 21st Century: Emre’s personal favorites

#letterboxd #pride #pride 2021 #lgbtqia cinema #lgbt film #turkish cinema #turkish film #queer cinema #coming out #jean marc vallée

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

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Stark Spangled Banner

One Shot: The Life Of Marv

Summary: Katie rescues a Turkey from slaughter, much to Tony’s annoyance.

Warnings: Language!

A/N- This was written as requested to accompany Ch 11: A Turkey Called Marv in Stark Spangled Banner, and fills us in on Marv the Turkey, and how he became a much loved (well, sorta!) Stark family Pet...

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

November 2001

It was a complete accident. Well, not going veggie, but Katie didn’t mean to steal the poor thing from the farm. She really didn’t. Well at least that’s what she told Tony. And now it was sat in the large, sprawling grounds of the Malibu mansion whilst Tony simply pinched the bridge of his nose and glared at his 17 year old sister. “This has to be up there with the most DUMB assed things you have ever done”. He rolled his eyes. “Ever” “I couldn’t leave him” Katie said, “he was lonely and gonna end up someones Thanksgiving dinner.” “Its a fucking turkey Kiddo." Tony groaned, watching the bird strut around the grounds, completely non-plussed at being uprooted from the farmyard 20 miles up the road "that’s what he was bred for” “Meat is murder Tony” “Oh for fucks sake…” he groaned “you know, I put up with this bullshit, the blue hair, the fucking emo clothes…but no. The Turkey goes back” “Best catch it then” Katie said, shrugging “I ain’t taking Marv back to be killed.” “Marv?” Rhodey asked, from where he was stood next to Tony “you called him Marv?” “He looks like Marv from Home Alone” “No, he looks like a turkey. A stolen turkey” Tony sighed “Rhodey, gimme a hand man…” “Oh no.” Rhodey shook his head “this is all yours Tony” “I’ll remember that…” Tony glared and stepped towards the bird. Instantly it flares its feathers up and made some kind of growling noise and launched at Tony who staggered backwards, toppling over one of the chairs that was positioned on the grounds. Katie doubled over with laughter and Rhodey let out a small snigger as Tony stood up, dusting down his jeans. “What the fuck?” He looked at Katie “how did you get near it?” Katie shrugged and walked over to Marv who looked at her shrewdly before he fluffed down his feathers and she bent to pick him up. “He likes me” “I give in.” Tony groaned “I raised a stubborn, pig headed asshole” So Marv the Turkey lived for thanksgiving.

*****

November 2002

“Hey Marv” Katie cooed, stepping into the large pen that was the turkey’s home. The bird strutted out of the large dog kennel he used as a house and Katie sat down, holding out her hand which contained a few blackberries. The turkey pecked at the fruit and she gently stroked his head before standing up and opening the gate to let him out of his pen. He followed Katie round the pool area and when she sat down on one of the loungers he plopped himself in the shade next to her, his eyes flicking around. “Just look…” Tony gestured to his sister and that fucking bird. Obediah snickered a little at the sight of the turkey sitting next to Katie like an obedient lap dog. “I think it’s funny…” “You would.” Tony took a pull from his beer “This is kinda your fault for not getting her a dog.” Obi laughed. “How is this my fault?” Tony sputtered “she robbed the damned thing last year at Thanksgiving. Is that it, every time I say no to something she goes and steals?” Obi clapped him on the shoulder as Tony made his way to the large bi-folding doors. “Kiddo… you want eats?” At the sound of Tony’s voice the turkey jumped to its feet and made a low chucking noise, and Katie laughed as Tony narrowed his eyes. “That thing is getting cooked this year.” He glowered. But he didn’t. And Marv the turkey lived for another Thanksgiving. ****

November 2003

“Katie you can’t take the damned bird to the UK.” “But he hates you.” She looked at Tony. “How you gonna feed him and clean him out?” “I’m not. He’s gonna go to a farm” “Don’t you dare.” She hissed. “Don’t worry, I wont let him.” Pepper soothed as the dark haired girl crossed her arms and glared at her brother “I’ll make sure Marv stays” “Where is the little bastard anyway?” Tony asked, looking out into the yard. “Erm… I dunno.” Katie frowned “Marv… MARV…” She headed off in search of her beloved bird and her calls suddenly got more frantic. “Did you let him go?” She demanded of Tony. “Trust me I would love nothing more.” Tony sighed “but it’s more than my life is worth. He has to be around here somewhere…” An hour it took until they finally located him in the downstairs bathroom, surrounded by an entire roll of shredded toilet paper. “I fucking hate that bird” Tony grumbled as Katie and Pepper tried and failed, miserably to hide their laughter. And Marv the turkey lived for another thanksgiving. ****

November 2004

“I swear he has been fine with me all term whilst you have been away!” Tony said, pulling his legs up onto the chair to avoid the bird pecking him to bits. “You saw the photos!” “Maybe he is just protective!” Katie grinned, reaching down and picking Marv up. He settled on her knee with a ruffle of feathers and closed his eyes, cooing softly as Katie gently ran her fingers over the top of his head. “Or maybe he is a giant ass hole” Tony grumbled, looking at the bird over his sunglasses. “Shhh don’t listen to him Marv” Katie said, putting her hands over where the birds ears would be, or are, maybe, Tony has no idea. “Ooooh maybe we should get him a girlfriend” Tony sputtered and looked at his sister “no fucking way.” “I’m only teasing” Katie sighed. “What do you fancy for lunch? Tony asked "I got some of that quinoa stuff and halloumi, thought we could knock up a salad…” “Great.” Katie beamed “but you know I’m not veggie anymore right?” “Since when?” Tony rolled his eyes. “Since I discovered British bacon” she sighed. “Plus i decided its more about how the animals are kept before they die, ya know? So I make sure it’s all free range, organically farmed stuff…” Tony ran a hand over his face before he shot the turkey a sly look “so, this Thanksgiving…” he mimed necking the animal and Katie glared at him. “No. He is a pet. I’m not eating him” So Marv the turkey lived for another thanksgiving.

****

November 2005

Tony threw a cob of corn into the pen where Marv was strutting about. “Eat that you little shit” he grumbled, as the turkey eyed him beadily before he strutted over to the food and began to peck. “Think you need a new house” he said, pulling his jacket further around himself as the November wind coming from the ocean was slightly chilly. He walked round to the side of the dog kennel. The wood was starting to crack and splinter. Pulling out his phone he quickly googled for pet houses and came across something that looked pretty cool. A plastic igloo shaped thing for rabbits. He sent a photo to Katie who called him within 5 minutes as he had just locked the turkey up for the night and headed into the kitchen. “You buying Marv presents?” She giggled “The kennel looks scruffy.” He shrugged simply “thought this would be better.” “He will love it” she laughed. They talked for an hour or so before she excused herself to pack, as her flight home for the holidays was the next day. Tony glanced once more out of the window into the yard to see Marv retreating into his kennel with a strut and a ruffle of feathers. Rolling his eyes he flicked off the lights and headed down to his workshop. “Jarvis, pull up a photo of a Eglu rabbit house” he said, rolling up his sleeves “and convert it to a blue print” “Stark Industries branching out into pet houses now Sir?” The AI asked, amusement in his tone. “Something like that.” Tony grumbled. And Marv the turkey lived another thanksgiving. ******

November 2006

Tony knew instantly when Katie went outside and peeked into the pet house that something was wrong. She wrenched open the hood and reached in and turned to the house with the bird in her arms.

“I think he is sick…” she said, her tone laced with worry as she carried Marv into the kitchen. Tony peered down at the bird, and he had to admit he didn’t look well. His eyes were closed and his breathing was heavy.

“Take him into the lounge” he said softly. Katie sniffed slightly and carried him through the kitchen and Tony sighed.

“Jarvis… what is the average lifespan for a turkey?” He asked quietly.

“The maximum recorded lifespan for a turkey in captivity is twelve years and four months. For turkeys living in the wild, the maximum is less than ten years, but the average life expectancy of a male turkey is just over 2 years and just over 3 years for females.” Jarvis replied.

Tony shook his head and sighed, grabbed the punnet of blackberries from the fridge and made his way into the lounge where Katie was sat with Marv now wrapped in a blanket by the fire.

He sat in front of her and gently offered a handful of the fruit to the bird. It looked at him and then viciously pecked at his hand.

“Bastard” Tony hissed, shaking his hand out and wincing as Katie laughed. Marv ruffled his feathers and closed his eyes. Half an hour later he ruffled and clucked for the last time.

And Marv the Turkey didn’t live for another Thanksgiving.

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #one shot #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #Katie Stark #tony stark #mcu #mcu fanfic

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bcbdrums · 3 years

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Five Kisses Under the Mistletoe

This fic is exactly as the title says. Please enjoy this glimpse at five Christmases shared by Drakken and Shego, from the first year they worked together to their first Christmas post-canon. This fanfic contains MAJOR SPOILERS for my long fic, There’s Christmas—and Christmas. If you've not read that fic, I highly recommend doing so first, because literally everything from that fic is spoiled in this one.

Recall from canon that Drakken pretends to be a radio psychiatrist to hide his villainy from his mother. This fic also answers @drakgoprompts prompt for mistletoe. Enjoy!

FFn AO3

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Five Kisses Under the Mistletoe

Christmas, 2003 — The Caribbean Lair

Drakken stood up and wiped his hands on his jeans with a satisfied grin, stepping back to view the newly trimmed tree from every angle. The fresh scent of the Douglas fir permeated his being, and he sighed happily as he nodded at what was looking to be a perfect Christmas tree. He stepped back to the pile of boughs he had made and began to assess where to place them to further decorate the den for the coming holiday festivities.

He was startled suddenly at the sound of footfalls that were finally becoming familiar, and he turned just as his new side-kick walked through the door. She halted with wide eyes and took in the changes to the den as he grinned with nervous excitement and approached her. After scrutinizing the decor her eyes finally fell to him, starting at his black boots and traveling up the casual jeans and shirt-sleeves he had donned as he had declared the holidays would be a break from villainy.

He slowed his approach as something in her eyes made him suddenly nervous. Her face had colored slightly and she looked....put off, somehow. He opened his mouth to wish her a Merry Christmas, but as he drew breath she cut him off.

"Dr. Drakken...what's all this?" she asked with an air of disdain.

"I..." He was further confused by her growing unease and he cleared his throat and blinked several times to refocus. "I'm decorating for Christmas."

Shego stared at him, her expression having gone blank. "You mean you're...staying here for Christmas? All alone?"

Drakken suddenly realized...he had assumed Shego would be staying too. He opened his mouth again, but she continued.

"Or are the henchmen staying for some kind of...evil get together, like that picnic you attempted?"

Drakken frowned lightly. The picnic had been fine...until Williams had thrown up on Brooks.

"No," he said with a slight pout, "they've all gone home to their families. But—"

"Wait... Did you...did you think I was staying here for Christmas?" Shego asked.

Drakken bit his lip and physically took a step back at her affront. He didn't think it was so horrible a thought, and he had assumed that she, like himself, would not have any family to go home to, villains that they were. She may only be a side-kick, but her impressive resume suggested she was in a similar situation to his own.

"Well..."

Anything he might have said next was interrupted by Shego's laughter. Drakken looked down at his boots and began twiddling his thumbs, his side-kick beginning what was becoming familiar mocking in between her roars of laughter.

"What, you thought we would...sit around the fire, and...drink hot chocolate and exchange gifts, and... Wait, is that mistletoe?"

She had turned her gaze upward to where the green sprig with white berries hung above the doorway that the pair now stood on either side of. Her face flushed again, and anger entered her eyes.

"So the henchmen are all gone, and you thought what exactly?" she asked, leveling her fiery green gaze at him.

Drakken took another step back and waved his hands in innocence. "I didn't— I wasn't— It's only because—"

"What, so does working for you have additional expectations that weren't in the contract or something?"

"No! I—"

"Ugh, I cannot believe you! It's not just that you think I don't have something better to do than spend Christmas with my boss, but the fact that you actually hung mistletoe!? What, did you think somehow someone like me would actually—"

Drakken cut her off quickly by closing the distance between them in two large steps and grabbing her shoulders. Her words ended in a choked gasp, and her face flushed again as she stared up at his frustrated visage. He felt a sudden rush of panic as he realized what he'd done, but his impulsive act had effectively limited his choices to more severe mocking, probable pain, and the potential loss of his side-kick...or...

Drakken brought his lips down to Shego's and kissed her powerfully, his heart racing. And then, for a moment...bliss. Her lips were like heaven against his, until suddenly they were left cold and his chest felt like he'd just been hit by a truck. Of course, it was the green blast Shego had hit him with, knocking him back against a chair where he crumpled to the floor.

He didn't get to see her face as she retreated, she'd spun around so fast. But as he lay on the floor in shock and listened to her departing steps until they went silent, he couldn't help the feeling of warmth that flooded his chest.

Things might not have gone as he'd planned...but he decided, as long as Shego didn't quit...it was a good Christmas after all.

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

Christmas, 2004 — The North Pole

Shego sat staring down at the remains of a very watery, formerly hot chocolate while seated inside what she had learned was the garbage container (impact-resistant, of course) from the failed Drak-Force One. That explained the smell... Having learned this fact after what had passed for 'Christmas dinner,' she had decided it was best not to ask where the food and drinks had come from.

She had foregone most of the singing, which the Possibles happily joined in on as Stoppable was co-leading the festivities with Drakken. But the twin boys had lost interest fairly quickly and were watching highlight reels of that extreme snow sports event on Possible's little hand-held device. Shego wondered idly if the two gave Possible as much trouble as her own twin brothers had growing up.

Drakken and Stoppable were still arm in arm as they sang, Possible seeming content to sing with them, while her parents were half-participating and half-seeming to be attempting to find a way out of the situation. Shego could think of a number of ways to end the extremely awkward truce that had been struck, but the first several on the list began with violence... She felt strangely obligated to keep the peace for Drakken's sake, all of the day's events considered. He had paid for her vacation after all...

As she was contemplating the few options she could think of that lacked violence, she noticed Possible suddenly narrow her eyes in mischief and begin staring at Stoppable. Shego looked between the pair and tried to figure out their silent communication. What on Earth could the teenaged thorn in her side be thinking? Surely she wasn't planning some trick to escape the awkward festivities...

Suddenly Stoppable's singing ceased, and Shego caught sight of his wily grin just before he elbowed Drakken a few times to get his attention and then pushed him in her direction.

"Oh, look who's under the mistletoe now!" the blond boy sang out giddily.

Shego's eyes widened and her jaw dropped as she looked up at the piece of parsley that she was inexplicably seated directly beneath. She stood up in alarm, but then she caught sight of Drakken's horrified face and something in her relaxed. He wasn't going to do it...

The memory of the prior year's unexpected kiss had rushed back to her, but with the fear of a repeat having faded at his terror-stricken expression she recalled...just how good a kisser her boss actually was. She bit the inside of her cheek as part of her mind told her that a mutual innocent and totally platonic kiss wouldn't be such a horrible thing after all. She took a breath and was about to voice the thought, when...

"Go on Drew," the voice of James Possible sounded, and Shego turned back to where Drakken's old schoolmate stood next to his wife, his arm around her waist and a devilish look on his face. "Let's see you kiss a girl under the mistletoe."

Shego's brow furrowed slightly. She didn't really know the history between the two former friends, but she did know it wasn't a good one. She set her jaw and turned with resolve, but she had barely made eye contact with Drakken before he was all but sprinting through the exit hatch.

"Well this has been lovely, we must do it again sometime!" he called without even a backwards glance. And with that, he was gone.

Shego blinked as she realized all eyes in the dimly-lit container had turned to her. She scowled and tossed her drink on the fire as she stalked out after Drakken. Knowing him, he would get lost in the snow and run into that polar bear... And she had parked her hover-car a fair ways away.

"Shego, what—"

Shego cut Possible off with a cold glance over her shoulder.

"Merry Christmas," she bit out more harshly than was probably warranted. "Truce ends tomorrow, unless you want it to end now."

She lit up her hands in warning, but didn't wait to see the teen's reaction as she left the compartment and began following her boss's footprints through the snow. As the wind whipped against her face the spell of the evening was broken, and her thoughts drifted back to the beach and all the things she would do the next day when she got back after depositing Drakken at the lair. And yet, creeping through her thoughts was the memory of Drakken's frightened reaction when she had turned intending to kiss him. And disturbingly, her own reaction of disappointment.

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

Christmas, 2005 — The Spider Lair (Steal Wheels; Rappin' Drakken)

"But Drewbie, I don't understand why you aren't decorating this year."

Shego eyed her blue-skinned boss as he skulked around the lab equipment, trying to evade his mother who had showed up unexpectedly—again—and was following her son around with numerous questions about his lack of holiday decor. As it was still a week until Christmas, Shego didn't see the big deal. Unless of course, Drakken came from the type of family that treated the entire month like one long holiday... She herself had never had such an experience.

"I'm going to be working through Christmas this year, Mother. That's all," Drakken explained, continuing to try to avoid the woman.

"Oh but surely you can do a few things to make it more festive around here. There's more than enough room for a tree, a nice wreath on the door..."

Shego watched the changing expressions on Drakken's face that indicated both his internal struggle and his frustration with his mother's presence. For her part, the green-skinned villainess was enjoying the display. It had been some time since Drakken's mother had showed up, and the only chaos she had brought with her this time seemed to be her very loud opinions about how her son spent the season.

"Nyeghn... Mother, how about I just hang a wreath on the door? And, look, lights!" he said, pushing a button on one of the lab control consoles. Various red, green, and white lights began flashing in sequence. Shego pursed her lips and nodded approvingly at the coincidence.

"Oh, but dear..."

Shego watched as the woman turned away from her son for a moment, to his relief—his entire being seemed to decompress—and stepped over to the large carpet bag she had brought in the way of luggage.

"You really should have a tree, and some mistletoe..."

Shego blanched and she swallowed nervously, not daring to glance at Drakken. She wondered what on Earth the odds were as the older woman began producing holiday decor from her bag. Words were exchanged between Drakken and his mother, but Shego didn't hear them as she watched a wreath, a box of glass icicles, a mass of candy canes with a large spool of ribbon, and indeed...mistletoe...being laid out across Drakken's work-bench.

She turned and left the great room of the lab, crossing her arms as she walked down the curved hallway of the lair toward her bedroom. It crossed her mind that it was probably time to move lairs, since Drakken's mother had visited that one twice now in less than six months. But more central to her thoughts was wondering whether or not she would return later to find the lab decorated as she had the first year she had worked for Drakken.

In all likelihood it would be even more festive, given the way he had decorated the garbage container at the North Pole the prior year. And considering the importance his mother seemed to put on appearance...Shego wasn't sure she wanted to return to the lab later at all.

After reaching her room, she changed into a bathing suit and flopped onto her tanning bed. She put her sunglasses on and flipped the switch to turn on her heat lamp. It was only December eighteenth... She realized that decorations aside, the higher priority was going to be making sure Drakken's mother didn't decide to make herself at home in the lair. Or else, she would be starting her beach vacation early that year.

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

When Shego decided to brave the lab hours later there was ample evidence of the two Lipskys' presence, though they weren't there at the moment. A modest tree took up one bare corner, decorated with red glass baubles, candy canes tied with red ribbon, glass icicles, and what appeared to be glittery plastic snowflakes. An actual string of Christmas lights was now wrapped around a fake garland and hung up around the focusing laser. Shego shook her head, not even bothering to take in the rest of the decor that had somehow appeared.

She was turning to go back to her room to pack, when the front door of the lair slid open.

"...Yes Mother, it's all very festive now. So...w-when does your flight leave?"

"Why Drew, it sounds like you want me to go away, Son!"

"N-No, o-...of course not Mother! But I still have a lot of work to do and as I said...I'll be very busy this holiday season."

Shego smirked as she watched the pair descend the stairs, Drakken's arms laden with brown shopping bags and his mother holding only one small plastic one.

"Oh but Drew, you have to take time off! It's not healthy."

Shego shifted her weight to the side and recrossed her arms as she watched Drakken's discomfort. She did feel for him, but there was just too much opportunity for entertainment in the present circumstance.

"Yeah Dr. D. Some time off might do something about that bulging vein in your forehead. Get out of the...office, and take a vacation."

Both Lipskys stared at her, Drakken's face morphing from confusion into a scowl while his mother's bloomed into an excited grin. Her bag was dropped on the work-bench as her hands balled into excited fists beneath her chin.

"Oh Drewbie, you could come home for the holidays!"

"N-N-Now, Mother..."

"Oh, it will be just like old times!"

"No I, I'm afraid it's impossible!" Drakken insisted probably too harshly. His mother's face fell, and he adopted an obviously fake but gentle smile. "I have too many patients in...very critical condition who cannot be left alone for that length of time."

Mrs. Lipsky's brows knitted as she considered. "Since you treat them over the phone, couldn't you work from home?"

"No, Mother! I...I need everything I have here at the office, and I need Shego's assistance," he said, moving to stand slightly behind Shego as soon as his bags had been deposited on the floor.

Shego glanced back at him with a smirk, and his eyes darkened briefly in annoyance before he was nodding at his mother with greater assurance now. Shego's grin broadened.

"But Dr. D., I'm going to the Bahamas for the holidays, remember?" she reminded him.

Drakken visibly startled and looked at her with such a rapid flurry of emotions that she couldn't keep up with them. Her smirk grew, and she was about to encourage the trip to his mother's when the woman spoke up.

"Oh! Look who's under the mistletoe!"

It was Shego's turn to startle as she peered upward and saw that in fact, the mistletoe had been hung and she and Drakken were directly beneath it. Her eyes narrowed and Drakken recoiled a step, but at his reaction she forced away her scowl and smirked at him in challenge. If anything was to get his mother out of the lair, and probably earn her an earlier start to her tropical vacation, it was this very threat. She raised her brow in anticipation and stared directly at Drakken.

For his part, his face had fallen to total confusion and he seemed to want to speak for the way his lips trembled but was unable to find the words.

"Drewbie!" Mama Lipsky's loud whisper called across the short distance toward her son. "What are you waiting for?"

Drakken looked anxiously between his mother and and Shego, his uncertainty growing.

"I... But..."

"You told me she was single. Now's your chance!"

Shego wanted to question the conversation that had clearly been had about her while the small family was out shopping, but she was more interested in seeing whether or not Drakken would run like the last time, or simply make an excuse. Her smirk broadened as she watched him begin to sweat and his brow begin to darken.

"M-Mother..."

"Be a man and make a move!" his mother said in her loud whisper.

Shego closed her eyes as she struggled to suppress her laughter. She could see the golden sands of the resort already as she listened to Drakken's frustrated growl. And then...

The softest of pecks caused her eyes to shoot open just as Drakken's lips left her cheek. She vaguely took in his mother's delighted expression, but her face was flushing too quickly. She couldn't help but glance at Drakken and saw he was equally flustered, his eyes deep pools of worry. Unable to blink away her own unease, she turned and strode rapidly out of the lab, needing an escape.

"See, Drewbie? She likes you!"

"N-No, Mother..." Drakken's voice was weary and disturbed.

"Didn't you see the way she blushed?"

"I'm lucky she didn't blast me."

"Blast you? What do you mean?"

Their voices faded as Shego quickened her pace, the flush on her face having become a warmth spreading to every nerve ending. Why hadn't she blasted him?

The sunny beaches suddenly didn't appeal to her, and she in fact wished for a colder climate and the stereotypical 'white Christmas' to cool the fire that was swirling disturbingly within her. Lacking that, she decided a cool shower would have to do.

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Christmas 2006 — The Caribbean

Drakken hung back slightly as he nervously surveyed the scene in the private living area he and Shego shared in the lair. It was far from private that evening with nearly every henchman he employed being in attendance at the Christmas party before departing to spend the holidays with their families. Considering how many months of that year had been lost, spent between jail, rebuilding his favored lair, recovering his health, and finding a new relational balance with his side-kick—something he would forever be a bit concerned about—it had in fact been a decent year. Nearly all of his former henchmen had returned to work for him, and while evil had been slow, profits had still been high. He wondered how many of the men had chosen to attend the party due to the Christmas bonuses he had paid them all at the beginning of that week.

"Hey Dr. D., why don't we have a piano in here?" Shego called drunkenly across the room.

Drakken grimaced. Shego was far from the only person inebriated, but he didn't like seeing her that way. Especially considering that it was less than half a year ago that she hadn't wanted anything to do with him. She was still a wild card in his mind, and the thought made his chest ache as there was no one he had trusted more in the past. And no one he wanted to trust more, now...

About five of the henchmen had begun a rousing rendition of 'Hark! The Herald Angels Sing,' leaving Drakken wondering how many of his employees might be religious and also just how much eggnog and other spirits they had consumed to be swaying near the Christmas tree, arms wrapped around one another, and veritably pouring emotion from their souls.

'We. She said we...' Drakken mused to himself, replaying Shego's question to him in his mind. Was it a slip of the tongue? Or was she really through being angry with him over the events of the first half of the year? Did she really view them as a 'we' again, pursuing evil together... He hadn't even realized at what point he had begun to think of them that way, but it was abundantly clear that he had... And something deep inside of him desperately wanted to again.

Lacking a piano, one of the henchmen had taken matters into his own hands and grabbed the small radio Drakken kept near the TV. The staticky sounds were turned up loud, and for several seconds, strains of 'Let It Snow' from the FM conflicted with the traditional hymn the henchmen were still crooning together out of tune. Before long most of the crowd had switched over to sing along with the accompanied song, while three still clung to one another and belted out the majestic proclamation next to the tree.

Shego's cackle suddenly arrested Drakken's attention, and he watched uneasily as she downed another glass of eggnog and then perched up atop the old TV that was playing some black-and-white special. She had a good voice, he noted, as she sang along loudly... But Drakken couldn't really listen as he cast his eyes over the rest of the room to where the majority of the men, not intoxicated in the slightest, were watching her with a mixture of amusement and intrigue.

He grimaced. He knew none of them would dare act upon any secret thought in the moment... If they did they'd be blasted by Shego faster than he could terminate their contracts. But he was more concerned about the gossip that would come after the night's festivities. He took a small sip from his own brandy-laced eggnog and began mentally calculating how much he could afford to pay each of them in yet another bonus just to buy their silence over the evening.

His concentration was broken as Henchman Welch, a man who didn't drink, sidled up to him then, his eyes locked on the green-skinned woman.

"Now, Dr. Drakken..." The man's voice was sly, and Drakken frowned. "I have my limits on evil, as most of us do. But my missus always wants to know about all the goings-on here at work... And she's got a lot of friends in influential places..."

"Two-hundred," Drakken said, cutting the man off. He forced himself to breathe evenly as he stared the man down.

Welch smirked. "And can I spread that around to the rest of the boys?"

Drakken sighed internally as he nodded. "You can also tell them that the trans-dimensional vortex inducer is the alternative, if anyone thinks about asking for more."

The cold gaze he leveled at the man seemed to do the trick as Welch visibly recoiled. The henchman nodded in understanding before walking away to speak to another man leaning against the back of the sofa.

Drakken's eyes drifted back to Shego and widened suddenly as he realized she was approaching him. Henchmen parted the way for her as she moved with purpose, stepping over the coffee table only to bump into the sofa. She caught herself with her hands on its back and then beckoned him forward with one finger, a mischievous grin on her face. He felt a nervous twist in his gut as he pushed off the wall and started slowly toward her.

"Sing with me, Dr. D.!" she said merrily, reaching a hand out toward him, fingers grasping repeatedly at the air. He anxiously took in her blood-shot eyes beneath drooping eyelids, and the sway of her frame as she attempted to stand up straight. As he reached the back of the sofa he reached a hand out tentatively in response, but she ignored it as she lunged forward and took his eggnog from his other hand.

He only managed a mild sputter of protest as she downed the beverage in two quick gulps and spun around to set the empty glass on the coffee table. The henchman sitting on the sofa had backed into one corner and was smirking up devilishly at Drakken. He grimaced and wondered how quickly the word would spread of the extra incentive to keep quiet about the night...or else.

"'Should auld acquaintance be forgot~'" Shego was singing along with the radio, facing him and reaching forward with both hands this time. Drakken kept his stubbornly at his sides, but cleared his throat and sang along, to her apparent delight as she leaned across the sofa again to smile into his face as the song continued. Around them, most of the henchmen were singing too. Drakken hoped the drunken caroling would be the end limit on how far the party had escalated past the White Elephant gifts and cookies he had baked.

As the song ended Shego flopped down on the couch with an uncharacteristic giggle, her head dropping to the back of the sofa as she continued to look up at Drakken. Suddenly her eyes widened, and Drakken felt another swirl of unease as she rolled over in a very feline way that reminded him of incidents precipitated by a certain moodulator more than a year prior. Her expression was devious as she rose up to her knees on the sofa, running her fingers back through her hair to push it out of her face.

"Guess who's under the mistletoe," she said in a low voice that absolutely terrified him. Drakken barely had the chance to glance up to see the truth of it before her hands were digging into his shoulders. He gasped, and then her lips were on his in a way he had only ever felt in his wildest dreams. He stumbled and caught himself on the back of the sofa, staring without focus at her closed eyes as her arms wrapped around his neck, effectively trapping him in the surprise embrace.

The cheers and jeers of the henchmen kept him grounded to reality, and he could just see some of their faces beyond Shego's volume of hair. He rolled his eyes and felt an internal twist as he realized his bank account was about to get significantly smaller.

Shego's tongue seeking purchase between his lips suddenly set off every remaining alarm in his head, and with a great effort he pried her arms from around him and was able to push her off. He held her arms for fear of another attack as she smirked at him seductively, and for a moment he stared in stupefaction at the unexpected turn of events. Did Shego...did Shego...actually want him?

He wasn't able to go any further with that line of thought as the continued catcalls and lewd remarks from the henchmen surrounding them reminded him of the necessity to focus. He thought quickly, and as Shego began to lunge forward for another kiss, he dodged and leaned close to her ear, bringing his voice down to a whisper.

"Wait for me in my bedroom," he said.

He felt Shego tense within his grip, and then relax. He didn't dare look at her face as she slowly leaned out of his grasp, and he released her as she began walking around the sofa, stumbling slightly as she turned back toward him. Drakken stiffened as she leaned up against his side, keeping his gaze forward on the television as her gloved hand slid up the front of his lab coat.

"Don't be long," she said in a low voice. Every nerve in his body reacted in a mixture of heat and cold terror, and then she giggled again as she tripped lightly on her walk away, seemingly oblivious to the crowd around them. He glanced after her to make sure she was gone, and then looking back he jumped at the sight of too many eyes staring at him.

"F-Five hundred dollars for each of you to forget this entire night ever happened," he declared loudly, hoping his voice sounded stronger than it felt.

"Do we still get the other extra two hundred?" Welch called out.

"Yes," Drakken said with a scowl in the man's direction. "So an additional seven-hundred dollar bonus to what I already gave you, if you forget everything that occurred this evening."

A loud hum of agreement rose from the henchmen, but casting his eyes around he could see that many of the men were considering possible alternatives. He frowned.

"And if anyone gets any ideas...remember I can show Shego the security tape," he said, pointing to the camera up in the corner. The murmurs around him quieted. "She'll have very different ideas about how to ensure your silence."

The hush that fell over the room told Drakken that the threat had convinced them.

"When do we get the cash?" a man asked.

"Nnghn...I'll transfer it to each of your accounts tonight. G-Go on now, party's over!" Drakken declared.

The henchmen began filing out of the room, muttering various comments and questions amongst themselves as they went. As they left Drakken could see just how much physical damage they had done in the lair, with the amount plastic cups and empty bottles strewn about the room. Some of the decor had been disrupted as well, and he crossed the room with the intent to fix a fallen garland.

"Hey, Boss?"

Drakken glanced back to see Henchman Garth lingering in the doorway, the rest of the men having exited.

"Yes?" he ground out.

"Merry Christmas."

"...Merry Christmas."

When the man had vanished, Drakken looked back at the garland. He sighed as a great weariness suddenly hit him, and he snatched up the radio and turned it off in a hurry, slamming the device down too hard and then pressing the power button the TV with equally undue force.

He stalked back to the sofa, kicking a liquor bottle and some tinsel as he went, and after picking up one of the decorative pillows from the floor he fluffed it ineffectively and lay down. He didn't know how long it would take for the alcohol to knock Shego out, but he had no intention of being anywhere near her again until she was sober.

After a few minutes of discomfort and wondering how long he could rest before taking care of the henchmen's bribe, he rolled onto his back and opened his eyes which he realized he'd been holding tightly shut. It proved to be a mistake as he found himself staring up at the mistletoe, and the memory of Shego's passionate kiss flooded back to him in a rush.

Suddenly, he was assaulted with panic as all of his mistakes in that moment became eminently clear. Why hadn't he tried to push her away immediately? Why had he told her to go to his room? If he'd said hers, he could be sleeping comfortably in his own bed that night.

As his eyes lingered on the mistletoe, his thoughts fell to the kiss again, and he replayed the events a second time. He grimaced as he thought of the words he'd used to get her out of the situation, but then...his tired and slightly-tipsy mind leapt ahead to the state she might be in, waiting for him in his bed with the thoughts he had deliberately planted.

He rolled over again, pinching his eyes tightly shut as nausea swept through him. Every year, somehow, his attempt to celebrate Christmas ended in disaster.

'Never again,' he silently vowed as he forced away all thoughts of the soft, heavenly touch of green lips.

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

Christmas 2007 — The Caribbean

Shego sat at the kitchen table, leaned back in her chair and watching Drakken's furrowed brow as he finished packing away the few pieces of Christmas decor that had survived the fire. His dog, Admiral Cuddles, was happily wagging its tail while standing at Drakken's ankles, having moved on from the disaster Shego had escalated for no reason other than her own enjoyment. And given the stress of the days that had followed the fire, she felt entirely justified in the impulsive act.

Drakken sighed as he began wrapping tape around the cardboard box of knick-knacks, his brow still furrowed as it had been for the entire two weeks it had taken to get his mother to accept his chosen lifestyle and finally depart. Shego wondered at the logic in keeping any of the decorations at all, considering most of them had been bought for farce to convince Mama Lipsky during her visit that Drakken had embraced the hero persona that the media had saddled him with after the Lorwardian incident.

As Drakken finished taping the box, Shego's own brow furrowed as she realized something.

"Drakken..."

He looked up at her and his expression cleared slightly.

"You didn't hang any mistletoe this year," she stated, a hint of question in her tone.

Drakken's brow furrowed further. "It's always been a problem..." he muttered. "Although I...don't know how it could have made things any worse this year."

Shego smirked even as her brow twisted in concern. It had been a near-solid month of chaos and crisis, the joys countered with a new disaster at nearly every turn.

Admiral Cuddles, unable to get his master's attention, turned his focus to Shego. He jumped up on her legs where they were crossed, and she glanced at the dog thoughtfully. A small push with her foot got him down, but he remained at her side with a curious expression, tail wagging expectantly.

Her eyes lingered on the dog as she considered Drakken's words. In a flash, understanding came, and her expression fell to sympathy for a moment before she peered at Drakken again.

Shego pushed herself to her feet, the nausea that had been mild that morning suddenly sweeping over her along with a wash of dizziness. She leaned against the table, and Drakken, noticing her plight, abandoned his efforts to tape the box and hurried to her side. One of his hands held her elbow for support as his other found her hip. Shego grimaced against the waves of queasiness and tried to smile as she leaned gratefully into his touch, slight though it was. She held his arm tightly with one hand while her other moved to cover her abdomen in what was starting to become a habit.

"I wanted you to kiss me," she said plainly, her gaze resting unfocused on his chest.

"What?"

"Under the mistletoe... Every Christmas. I wanted you to kiss me," she admitted, looking up at him.

Drakken's brow furrowed ever-further. "You blasted me when I kissed you that first time."

Shego shifted her weight and her smile faded slightly. "You deserved it. As my boss...you had no business kissing me like that, mistletoe or not."

Drakken looked confused. "But then...the next two years..."

"You ran away when we were at the North Pole," she accused. "And then we had to fly all night in the snow to get back here. You should have just sucked it up and kissed me. I still don't get why you didn't."

Drakken's face morphed to anger and he snarled. "Because James Possible was just out to mock me! He wanted me to try to steal a kiss and then get blasted, just like what happened back in college when...when I got punched for trying it."

Shego's brow rose, and her expression became thoughtful.

"So...the next year when your mother was at the lair, and you kissed my cheek..."

"I just wanted to appease her, I— Wait... You...wanted me to kiss you?"

His eyes had grown wide with incredulity. Shego shrugged.

"Yeah. After seeing what a good kisser you were that first time... If I was ready for it, it could have been fun. But when your mother showed up uninvited...I was kind of just trying to make you uncomfortable."

Drakken frowned. "Why?"

Shego glanced away. "Little bit of revenge for running away the year before... And also for not kissing me back when Bortel's device was affecting me."

Drakken gawped at her. "That— You... But that would have been unethical!"

"Says the man who just spent two weeks convincing his mother why he's going to keep on being a villain," she said with a smirk.

Drakken growled slightly and looked away, his fingers pressing into her hip.

Shego took a step, guiding him to lean back against the kitchen counter where she leaned into him. Her arms rested around his neck as his settled around her waist, and she relished in the familiar feel of his fingers pressing gently into her flesh.

"I know you hung mistletoe last year but... I guess me getting drunk ruined that," she said, her face falling slightly. "I'd been thinking about a kiss ever since you decorated that week."

Drakken glanced away nervously. "Actually, ah..."

Shego raised a curious brow.

"We did kiss last year."

"We did...?" Shego asked. "But you said...I just passed out," she recalled, her brow furrowing even as her cheeks colored at the memory. Despite the very rational explanation he'd given her at the time, she would never forget how disturbing it had been to wake up naked and alone in her boss's bed with a hangover.

"B-Before that..." Drakken admitted. "You kissed me...in front of all the henchmen. I...sent you to my room to get you out of there, and then paid them for their silence."

Shego tried to remember, but her memories of that Christmas aside from waking up consisted only of a lot of alcohol and bad singing.

"The whole thing...kind of put me off of mistletoe," Drakken concluded, his voice having tensed as he clearly recalled events from the past Christmas differently than she did.

Shego leaned into Drakken more heavily as another wave of nausea hit her. His face fell to worry as he held her closer, but she looked up at him with a soft smile.

"Wish you'd hung it again this year..." she said thoughtfully. "We could have redeemed the past four years."

Drakken's brow furrowed in regret, but then he suddenly gasped and jumped slightly, forcing Shego to step out of his embrace. She understood soon enough as she saw the typically-suppressed vine mutation slither out from behind his neck. At their feet, Admiral Cuddles barked threateningly at the invader whilst backing away under the table in confusion.

"We haven't been doing your injections," Shego stated the obvious, one hand still on her abdomen as she braced herself against the table with the other.

"What's the point..." Drakken said with a heavy sigh. "It's never going to go away. It's too strong."

The discussion was halted before it could begin as they both stared in curiosity at the vine. The pink flower that guided it had pulled open the door of the refrigerator and was presently snaking inside.

"What, now it needs food too instead of just water and sunlight?" Shego quipped, though her brow had begun to twist in worry.

They were both left astonished when the pink flower emerged, a piece of parsley wrapped between a small coil of the vine, and then it moved to hover and dangle the parsley a couple of feet above Drakken's head. Shego looked between the plant and her husband-to-be's face as he peered up at the herb. His expression was unreadable. Shego pushed off the table and approached him again.

"So...you say this thing operates off of what your subconscious wants?" she asked with a smirk.

Drakken's only response was to roll his eyes and grumble, but his hands moved around her waist again as she snuggled against his chest. She struggled to withhold a hiss as greater nausea struck her, and Drakken held her tighter as his brow furrowed briefly in worry. But he shifted and she leaned away slightly to let one of his hands cover her abdomen. His expression had fallen into a soft smile, his eyes brimming with joy. Despite herself, she still blushed as she set one of her hands over his. She wondered when the awe over their baby growing inside her would fade, or if it ever would.

She smiled up at him and then glanced higher to where the vine was holding the parsley a bit lower. She smirked even as the flush in her cheeks intensified.

"Merry Christmas, Drakken," she whispered.

He brought his forehead down to rest lightly on hers, and the happiness in his eyes caused her entire being to flood with warmth.

"Merry Christmas, Shego," he answered softly. And they moved slowly in unison until finally their lips met in a long-awaited, loving, and picture-perfect kiss.

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