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#i tried looking for moments to include with john but they don't interact much :(
transjudas · 3 months
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Freddie interactions with Brian and Roger during Queen Rock Montreal (1981) (x)
bonus:
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pensbridge · 4 months
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Just For Fun: My outline of episode 1 (Polin edition), but I'm not sure if I wanna post more (or finish) -
I started this awhile back and got motivated to add more after the update w/the date announcement. (it might not be completely in line after the new interview)
Season 3, Episode 1: Out of the Shadows ☆
Colin/Penelope return. We see Colin arriving home. The Featherington household is going through revisions as Portia is instructing for downsizing/majority of their stuff to be sold due to the recent financial crisis. As Colin pulls up to the family, we see 'welcome backs' & teasing exchanged. He looks on to the Featherington estate. Portia is on a quest with a new scheme/seems suspicious-ABC brothers look on in bewilderment/curiosity; C looks up and sees Pen from the window, who steps back and ignores when he waves.
Francesca debuts. (Colin questioning most of the ep). We see them back at the house; family plays catch up w/lots of set up for sibling dynamics (inc El-Colin exchanges re: her current status w/Pen & him trying to relate it to Pen's dismissal of him & a mention of the letters). also some talk about Colin's travels & an exterior look at what could be deeper to his internal change (he'll boast a lot & seemingly have found his purpose/worth). We'll get references and hints to his new 'hobby' and we'll get a shot or 2 of some things he brought back including a book (journal), while he maybe struggles with some of the intricacies of family living together after being alone on his travels.
We get Pen avoiding him at all costs [the ball is where things get awkward-Pen attempts flirting (more on that later) // she probably has some solo attempts in random moments we don't expect, where she is not actively in the position to be seeking, but tries to strike up a convo with random men].. We get the 1st confrontation in some private area after she walks off from one of her solo attempts, where Colin pops up- (Colin will be very confused, and in the dark of Pen's quest/frustration; Pen very standoffish/comes off rude to him).
Pen goes through makeover. Earlier in the episode we get Madame Delacroix interaction & foreshadowing to her physical change + LW updates & we'll see a tonal change of Pen's mission regarding it (aka girl=enraged).
Later, at the ball, we get things like small notices of Penelope's new look, Pen-Lady D. interaction, and an awkward El-Pen encounter [as well, we'll probably get onlooking disapproval from Eloise when she notices her exterior change]. Francesca probably meets John. Again, Penelope will try to flirt (this time with a man with great prestige) and somehow in her nervousness (or unknowingness, at the time to his status), she will go on to stumble through her interaction or unintentionally offend him in some way, feeling embarrassed at the witness of a group of surrounding people. So she runs off.
Meanwhile, Colin will notice a change, but be more confused than anything at her new shift/demeanor and, seemingly, personality; he spends the ball trying to speak with her again/worried if something had happened and of the correlation of her not responding to letters. (They have 1 more little encounter involving him trying to talk with her in the commotion of the ballroom, but it is interrupted by Cressida when she attempts to throw a dig at Pen, taking notice of her new wardrobe).
When he notices her run off, he follows..
They get into a tense & heightened exchange, where she admits her desire to find a husband. He is shocked and thrown off by her words, but offers to help her in his quick-thinking, desperate attempt, just hoping to get back on her good side. She instantly refuses at first, but he persists about it. She may not even accept at his first proposal due to her determination to forget him and/or the general timing at the ball with all the things going on close by them. The episode ends with a Lady Whistledown paper, setting the tone for a much darker figure with some foreshadowing of what's to come later.
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moregraceful · 11 months
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You know for a team I have not watched regularly since 2020, random facts about the Dallas Stars sure are lodged in my head like immovable truths of the universe. If I ever find a program that can help me create an interactive timeline in a way that makes sense in my brain I'm creating a timeline of Dallas Stars information from the Seguin trade -> now and it's over for you hoes* (*me specifically, I am the hoes). Like I, who am generally bad at dates and numbers, just have various Stars' players rookie seasons/fresh outta Cedar Park seasons just taking up space in my brain for no reason?? Why. This timeline would also include such important cultural moments in Dallas Stars as Roope Hintz's haircuts and Finnish mafia contracts, information which is also just. in my stupid brain doing jack. This timeline would serve zero purpose and enrich humanity not at all but at least this information would be OUT of my HEAD
Anyway I have not been talking abt it because a) don't want to give details when the overall arc of the plot is still tenuously coming together, b) had to do a bunch of research for some finicky mental-illness-in-WWII-veterans but I haven't been able to make myself go digging on SciHub/LibraryGenesis/Google Scholar to see if anything I learned from Band of Brothers/The Pacific postwar fanfic is grounded in reality. But in my current state as someone who cannot watch videos or TV without getting sick but also can't really leave the house for long periods of time, I finally started digging into the research I need to do for it. I'm writing a Dallas Stars WWII postwar au for Fandom Trumps Hate!
I'm very excited about it, especially as I start digging into the historical pieces I need to make it come together and things start to (slowly, so slowly) fall into place. I haven't written a historical au in uhhhhhhh a while and haven't ever written one that was really built around serious hurt/comfort. obvs do not want to just be shooting from the hip when it comes to mental illness, particularly in veterans, but I wanted to be challenged, and so here I am, digging through Google Scholar annotations lol. (There's also stuff I need to research on Canada in WWII, gay men in the 1940s/during WWII etc etc etc, bc it's been a while since I looked any of that up lmao...historians scare me so I am like I must not make TOO much shit up....)
BUT the reason I was thinking abt the internal timeline my brain carries about the Dallas Stars from the past 5 years despite the fact that I could be using that space for LITERALLY anything else, is bc my bidder requested a bunch of older players (which is great for me to be clear - if there's one thing I'm always gonna do, it's gaze lovingly at pictures of Stephen Johns) but said that if I wanted to add newer players feel free. So I tried to balance out Old Guys with some younger players who I love or am interested in learning more about. Gotta give those old men some youth to keep em humble yk. But I wanted to de-age everyone by about 5-6 years from their ages irl just like...given the timeline of the war, bc so many of the older guys are like well into their 30s rn and I didn't want anyone to be career military. BUT!! I was making my little list of birthdates and ages relative to each other and now I'm like. If I de-age Wyatt Johnston by 6 years. He will be 14. tf is a 14 year old doing hanging out with a bunch of men in their late 20s. This is not LiveJournal. Or like Miro Heiskanen and Jason Robertson who I also wanted to include bc I love them, will be 17. I liked the logistical challenge of having a couple of Finnish guys and American guys in this au that takes place in Canada but also, what is a 17 year old Filipino-American kid doing in Vancouver yk. also like girl help do I really want to dig into anti-miscegenation laws in California and Canada 😭😭 shit was not repealed in California until the late 40s. how far down the rabbit hole do I go with historical accuracy this fic is supposed to be about some gay asses finding relief from the Horrors in community, together
Anyway, all. ALL. of this information about the Stars is going to be in my head for the rest of my life. I am going to forget everything historical as soon as I hit post on AO3 but will be in my 60s knowing that Wyatt Johnston was born in 2003 or that my dad and Roope Hintz share a birthday (kings). Like god forbid I remember my own family or friends' birthdays but I will definitely find use for the information that Miro and Jason's birthdays are four days apart or that Miro and Joe Pavelski and Jamie Benn all have the same birthday. Who is driving the bus here and why is it a Dallas Stars historian with selective memory
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rwprincess · 3 years
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Two Worlds Collided
Masterlist
A/N: Oh, an anachronistic songfic from RWPrincess? But this time it’s about John Bender! :D Inspired by Never Tear Us Apart (originally by INXS in 1987, but I particularly like this Paloma Faith version)
Word Count: 2K
Synopsis: Bender met reader at the Breakfast Club and the two seemed like opposites, but they shared a common hidden sadness. Over the years, feelings and relationships change.
CW: Swearing, sexuality, Bender being a general asshole
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Bender had met her the same way everyone in the Breakfast Club had, on the Saturday detention on March 24th. He had seen her in the hallways prior to that as he was always observant. He had seen everyone in the Breakfast Club before that day; but he hadn’t given her much thought. Now, he was paying attention to little else. He had no idea why he was drawn to her; they were both so different and he could never picture himself with a goody-two-shoes like that. But the way she had reacted to his more vulnerable, real moments, how she tried to make a connection with him...that stuck with him. He knew he should have learned from his disastrous blow-up with Claire that two people who were so different just wouldn’t work out. He repeated this to himself over and over, like a mantra, but it never changed how he actually felt.
After the breakup, the Breakfast Club had a split between those who chose Bender and those who chose Claire. Of course, Andrew sided with Claire unconditionally, but John considered that as no big loss. Allison tried to play the middle ground and Johnson had sided more with him, but he was surprised at the wholehearted backing he received from Y/N. He had assumed that she would either try to be neutral like Allison, or pick Claire. She had no reason to side with him, he had always come off as an aloof ass. But she had, and he was eternally grateful for that. He had originally decided to get together with Claire because the notion had a hot, forbidden quality to it. They spent time insulting each other and making out to make up for it. It was as passionate as it was destructive, so of course it couldn’t last. However, when he was alone and reflected to himself, he had been attracted to Y/N all along. She was hot, yes, but he had plenty of good-looking girls to choose from. He was more drawn to that kind, quiet inside she had displayed that day. How she had gone out of her way numerous times to reach out to him and had been genuinely nice to him. Most of the time, someone only did that to gain something for themselves. Whether it was to use him or to make themselves feel better, it depended on the person, but with Y/N that never felt like it was the case.
Don't ask me
What you know is true
Don't have to tell you
I love your precious heart
He thought back to the first time he saw her on that Saturday, walking into the library and looking so out of place. He was already adjusting into his spot when she entered and she froze in front of all the tables like a deer-in-the-headlights, as if she had just materialized there and had no clue what she was doing. He remembered feeling both attracted to that doe-eyed look and scoffing internally at it. While she wasn’t part of the cliques that Andrew and Claire were, she had a very sheltered look to her and he was envious of that type of innocence. Her ignorance must have been bliss compared to the hell he lived each day at school and at home. She was just as out of place as the preppies or ultra-dweeb Johnson, but instead of being offended by that notion, she looked terrified. She meekly put her items on the front-row desk opposite to him and he thought about all the fun he could poke at everyone here, including her. However, the first blow did not land well. Bender loved making people uncomfortable, but he didn’t necessarily want to make them cry. He’d made some off-handed remark towards her. He had been circling her and eyeing her, employing the discomfort he liked inflicting, trying to ‘guess’ why she was in detention. “I bet you were caught fooling around with a teacher, right? Always the quiet ones that you’d least suspect…”
John Bender rarely regretted his words or actions. He knew he was an asshole and let unfiltered thoughts through so that he could be the center of attention. In doing so, he had to stand by all the shit he said, even when he crossed a line. This was one of the scattered occasions in which he felt remorse, though. She didn’t reply, not verbally, anyway, but she looked scared shitless and was rooted to the spot. Tears instantly sprang up in her eyes and she looked as if she were about to hurl right on his combat boots. He backed off after that. He didn’t apologize, because that’s not something John Bender could have on his reputation, but he didn’t target her. There was something so sincere about her reaction and he saw himself reflected in that expression. Not the tough-as-nails persona he projected, but his secret self who had seen too much too early in life and could barely stand another blow. He didn’t know what her deal was, but there was a heavy sadness behind those eyes that was far too real for him to tamper with.
When he had shown the group his souvenir for spilling paint in his garage, courtesy of his father, she must have seen that reflection back. No one in that group actually knew him. They all thought he was a lying sack of shit; what could he say? His reputation preceded him. But he caught her gaze as he backed away from the group, and the sadness in her recognized the sadness in him. He felt an odd sort of click, a mutual understanding, but he turned away from them all and trashed the library.
I, I was standing
You were there
Two worlds collided
And they could never tear us apart
That was months ago, and out of everyone he met that day, she was the one who truly stuck by him. He’d surprisingly connected with Johnson, sure. Everybody likes to get high and Bender was the supplier. And he and Allison had similar interests, but she wouldn’t give up Andrew and with that territory came Claire...there was just no going back to that. But Bender still had Y/N, and he could never understand it. The first time he had brought her into his friend circle, he tried to justify it as sticking to his word and ‘having the balls to stand up to his friends’ like he had told Claire to do. He also reasoned that it was some sort of social experiment. As much as he liked to portray himself as someone who couldn’t care less, Bender was entirely social. He craved attention and admiration for others and could read just about anyone like a book. Maybe that’s why he didn’t mess with Y/N after that first comment landed so wrongly. He felt like he knew exactly what she was thinking and feeling and decided to back off. However, it wasn’t just some ‘watch and see how she interacts’ set up; Bender genuinely wanted her there. He wanted to integrate her into his life.
She was still extremely quiet, mostly a speak-when-you’re-spoken-to type, but he started to peel back layers in her personality. He found that, despite that lurking sadness, there was an unending pool of optimism. She tried to see the best in situations and in people. She meshed incredibly well with his friends because she listened instead of judged. She would nod along like she knew exactly what they were talking about and how they felt. He started to develop an attachment to her. While he was still dating Claire, he told himself it was akin to having a pet. Y/N was like a goldfish that he could tell his problems to and know the secret would be kept. But after Claire, he realized that wasn’t the case...particularly when he sought Y/N’s comfort above all else. He divulged the entire last big fight he and Claire had to her, and she was just so...reassuring. After that day, he began to see her in a different light. He argued with himself over what his feelings and intentions actually were, but he couldn’t keep them at bay for long. She was good for Bender. He had never felt lighter.
Of course, Bender had not known stability in his life ever, and the risk of falling for Y/N and having it mean something and being accountable to one person overwhelmed him. He did what he knew best: he fought it and ran away from it. At first, he tried to avoid her, just distance himself. But he’d gravitate back; being without her was too heavy to bear. He wanted to try to actively push her away, to fuck up this relationship with his words, just like he did with everything else. But when he opened his mouth to try to lie, to say he didn’t need her or want her around or whatever, he would look into her eyes and it became impossible. He remembered the way he had shaken her to her core the first day they met, and he couldn’t allow himself to bring that sadness up again in her.
We could live for a thousand years
But if I hurt you
I'd make wine from your tears
Eventually, he gave in. While he was able to control his words to not say anything harmful, he wasn’t able to contain them from slipping up and telling her, “Dammit, I love you!” It wasn’t in a context that could be taken as joking or being said flippantly; she knew immediately what he meant and that he meant those words, wholly.
She took his face in her hands and told him, “I love you, too.” There was no turning back, and as the years passed, they fell deeply in love. He'd dug up her secrets and fears, but she seemed to trust him enough to not use them against her in any way. They both dreaded the prospect of never getting out of Shermer and falling into the same circular trap their parents had. However, he reassured her that the moment they had the opportunity, they would bust out of there. He lucked out that Claire had never asked for her diamond earring back. It was probably one of many and she had forgotten she had even given it to him as a token. He decided to pawn it to top-off the savings he and Y/N had accrued. "You're too good for me, you're sure as hell too good for this place,'' he told her. The trade-in was enough to get them out of town and start anew, but only one of them could really ‘move up’ for now. While they argued back and forth about who should get to pursue which dream, Bender rationalized to her, “I was barely cut out for high school. I can’t really do college. And that’s okay. You’re the brains in this relationship, I’m the beauty.” He winked at her and with her laughter as response, that sealed the deal of who was going to school.
I told you
That we could fly
'Cause we all have wings
But some of us don't know why
She searched the crowd, holding her diploma. Bender had supported her both financially and emotionally these last four years and now they had the degree to prove it. She felt pride in being able to take over from him and let him follow a new path. He had always been good with his hands, but despite his protests, he was good with his mind too. He was a sharp-thinker and she knew that he could make a career that he loved out of that. She’d be there to push and brace him as he had done for her. Finally, she spotted him. When their eyes connected, she felt that same crackle that she had the first day they had met, all those years ago. Before the friendship and the love, she knew there was a spark there, that they were two of a kind, even though they were so different.
I, I was standing
You were there
Two worlds collided
And they could never tear us apart
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obsidiancreates · 2 years
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Our Museum Of Rot And Love (Part 3)
Witty Chapter Title Here
Stede fidgets with his cuffs in the taxi, watching the buildings pass by without much noticing them. He doesn't know why he's so nervous. He's just visiting a museum. And a museum where he's made some fast friends! Maybe that's where the nerves come from. He's always been decent at making friends, but they don't always stick. He'd like to be friends with these ones for a long time, he thinks.
Frenchie seems fun and playful, the sort of cheeky grin that Stede had always been told he had as a child. Wee John, though their interaction had been brief, seemed a nice fellow as well, and if he was Frenchie's friend he probably really was a decent sort. And Ed...
Well. Stede felt a connection with Ed. He'd like to build on it.
He'd also like to build a fun reputation with the rest of the staff. He's never had a fun reputation before, but if he could make it happen anywhere, it would be here! But how to go about it?
Fun historical facts? No, they've got plenty of those. Some kind of fun historical reference, maybe? Perhaps to one of the books in the library exhibit? Hmm, but no guarantee that would land. So what, then?
Maybe... a pirate-like greeting?
The taxi stops and Stede pays, including a generous tip. He looks up at the museum and readies himself. He walks up to the front, seeing Wee John at the door again. He grins.
"Avast, ye!"
Wee John jolts! For a second Stede worries he's forgotten the proper usage of the phrase, or misremembered the meaning. Wee John stares at Stede for a second before shaking his head. "You startled me."
Ah. Just a slight start, Stede can fix that blunder. He thinks. "Sorry about that." He offers a sympathetic smile. "Just thought I'd ah play into the theme."
"Sounded very authentic." Wee John glances at Stede's year-pass card, though it seems like a formality. It occurs to Stede that it might be odd Wee John remembers him, until Stede realizes that maybe... just maybe... Ed talked about him?
... Or Frenchie.
... Or it was easy to remember a man who had a knife hucked at him by a child and then was nearly hanged by his own bowtie.
"We've got some more exhibits open, if you're interested."
"Really? Already?"
"We only had about half ready for the grand opening. Ca- Boss, wanted to make sure people were actually interested."
"Who wouldn't be? It's pirates! Swashbuckling, looting, all the gusto!"
Wee John stares for a moment, and then nods. "Gusto's one way to phrase it. ... You should look at the calligraphy section, you know. I think you and Lucius would get along."
"Ah, is that the lad I saw sketching and writing the other night? He really has a talent for imitating the style of the era! I think I will go to his exhibit."
"We've got some on navigation now, too. It's sort of a hybrid with sea hexes, though."
"... Come again?"
"Our navigation expert is also into hexes and witchery, I think? If you're interested."
"Ah, um... maybe later. Those legends are my least favorites, actually. They tend to end in tragedy, and I prefer at the very least something bittersweet."
"Don't we all."
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Stede tries to make a beeline for the Calligraphy, he does. But that ship piece in the entrance captures his imagination again. What pirate decided to use a unicorn as their figurehead? Was there a reason behind it? Or just a whim? Did they have children and did it for them?
Now that's a silly thought. Someone designing a pirate ship with the intent of bringing children aboard. Stede lightly huffs out a small laugh at the idea. Goodness, he hopes anyone who would try that would get the idea shot down or thwarted somehow.
"You're back!" Stede turns to see a smiling Frenchie. "How's it goin', mate?"
"Well, thank you. Distracted by the ship again." He gestures up at it. "I was actually advised to look at the, calligraphy section? Meet whomever runs it?"
"Lucius, yeah. Bet Wee John suggested it. Come on, Roomie's got good sense of who'd get along with who."
"Roomie? You two are roommates?" Stede jogs a little to keep up with Frenchie. He's only a bit taller, really, but his stride is mich more impressive.
"Oh, yeah. Have been for ages." Frenchie turns a corner. "What about you? Any roommates?"
"No, no. No roommates, no spouse, no children, just me." Sometimes even the small apartment feels too big, really. Even with all the trinkets he fills it with.
"Maybe you'll find someone to share the space with," is all Frenchie says.
"Oh, that would be nice."
"Here we are, mate." Frenchie gestures at the exhibit. "Looks like he's not too busy right now, either. I'll let you two get acquainted, I think I see Jim- Jim, hey! Boss said not to show the kids lethal stabbing points!"
Frenchie jogs away, and Stede straightens his bowtie and walks up to the young man sitting in the exhibit booth. Time for attempt two of his fun greeting. "Avast, ye!"
The young man jolts in his chair with a small yelp, dropping his notebook.
"Shit!" Stede hisses. He picks it up and hands it back. "Sorry. Trying a new thing."
The young man takes a moment to catch his breath. Wow, Stede really startled him. "Yeah, it's fine." He sighs. "Um, I'm Lucius. Nice to meet you."
"Stede Bonnet." They shake hands. "You imitate the style of the time period flawlessly! How long have you practiced this for."
"Oh, ages." Lucius scrunches up his nose and waves his hand dismissively. "We're all like... really experienced, with this stuff."
"Incredible. Where did Ed find you all?"
"Just sort of, around. ... On first name basis with our boss already?"
Stede laughs a little. "Apparently I made quite an impression! Can't say I do that often, so I hope he doesn't get bored of this burgeoning friendship too quickly."
"I think it'll be fine. He's more domestic than he seems." Lucius nods over to another exhibit, the one with all the guns and old weapons. "My boyfriend Pete used to have a total crush on him, but it turned out Ed's more of a softie than he thought."
"Your boyfriend works here too? Frenchie wasn't joking when he said everyone knows everyone."
"Yeah, we've got like, a bunch of history together, all of us."
"... Ah." Suddenly Stede feels small, like the exhibits loom and stare. "Sort of a family, then. All of you."
Lucius squints at him, and closes his notebook. "You're thinking you're intruding, aren't you?"
"Wh- I'm not- how would you even-"
"I'm good at reading books and people. You're not intruding on anything, don't go running away because you think you don't fit."
"I wouldn't-! How could I run away from a museum?"
"I'm just saying." Lucius leans back in his chair a little. "Anyway, did you want me to write anything down? I do commissions."
Stede is still reeling from the sudden... scolding, it almost felt like. Before he can answer Lucius, or maybe scold him right back, he hears another voice behind him.
"Stede! Good to see you again, man."
Stede smiles a little and turns to see Ed, smiling as well.
"Good to see you again too." Stede holds out his hand for a shake, but is pulled into a hug instead. He gasps softly, and Ed quickly pulls away.
"Shit, sorry, was that too much?"
"No, no, just surprised me." But it felt... good. Right. Fulfilling, even? "Suppose I'm used to teacher greetings, more than friendly ones."
"Not all this again," Lucius whispers behind them.
Stede forgets the comment a moment later when Ed smiles at him and takes his hand. "We just got a whole fuckton of old books in. Wanna take a look at them?"
Perhaps Lucius was good at reading people, but somehow Ed seemed to be a complete master at reading Stede.
"Lead the way." And he does, and Stede is suddenly sure he would follow Ed anywhere.
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katblu42 · 3 years
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Tie Me to the Moon
Installment 4 (of 5) in my Whump Wheel spinning experiment. This spin was for John and gave me Cuddling For Comfort and Cemetery.
It is another Young Tracys fic, but it requires some WARNINGS as it deals with grief/mourning, funerals and of course a cemetery. I'm also tagging for social anxiety, sensory overload and panic attack, although I'm not entirely sure exactly what I'm putting John through. If there's any additional warning or tag I need please let me know (or if these ones don't hit the mark).
Possibly more angst than whump.
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The day started early. Scott had spoken with John and Virgil the night before about how much he was relying on them both to help get Alan and Gordon ready, since Grandma and Dad would both have a lot on their plate. So, John had set the alarm for 6am to give them time to wake themselves up before tackling the tinies.
By 9am all five boys were awake and fed and dressed in their Sunday best, shoes shined and hair combed awaiting final inspection before the cars arrived to take them to the church. Normally it would have been Dad who inspected the troops before such an important occasion but, like many other things over the last week or so, today the job was taken on by Scott. He left no stray hair or speck of lint unscrutinised, while their father was barely able to do more than glance at his boys and give Scott a pat on the shoulder as he passed on his way out the front door.
Scott decided it would be best if he went in the lead car with Dad. It was the one that had been fitted with the kiddie seats for Gordon and Alan, and Scott could sit between them and keep them settled. That left John and Virgil to ride in the second car with Grandma. The car trip was mostly silent, but Grandma told them they both looked very smart and did her best to smile despite clear indications she was holding back more tears.
As they neared the church it was impossible not to notice the large number of parked vehicles, some still offloading passengers. John let out a large sigh as their car pulled up in front of the chapel. The soft murmurings and general bustle of the gathering crowd penetrated their insulated little bubble even before the driver opened the door to let Grandma out. Virgil waited until he’d caught John’s eye and received a nod before opening his door so both boys could exit on the same side of the car.
The kindly young driver from the funeral home seemed to be keeping most of the well-meaning mourners at bay as the family gathered and were solemnly led into the church and ushered to the front pew. John tried to focus on the flowers, the quiet organ music, the soft glow of sunlight filtering through stained glass rather than the coffins or even the photos of Mom and Grandpa, and definitely not the endless stream of people filling the rows of seats behind them. It was a slightly tight fit getting all seven of them in the one pew, even with Alan on Dad’s (and later Scott’s) lap, but John was glad of the warm press of Virgil on his left and Gordon on his right.
The service was a simple, no-frills affair with the Minister officiating, but friends and family doing most of the talking. John listened through Dad and Grandma retelling stories he’d heard before, but there were little details revealed that he had never known. The anecdotes shared by the others who stepped up to the pulpit microphone – one of Grandpa’s farming neighbours, and an old friend of Mom’s from school – almost felt like stories about other people. It didn’t feel like they were talking about the people John had lost.
For John losing Grandpa was like a constellation of stars going missing from the night sky. It was Grandpa that had told him people are all made of the same stuff as the stars. He had been a quiet, watchful presence in his life, providing light and joy whenever he looked up and saw that twinkle in Grandpa’s eye. Like Ursa Major and Polaris, Grandpa was always there guiding him, giving direction when needed, but never wanting to overstep or overshadow his parents. Not the brightest light in his orbit, but an important, comforting presence that meant John always knew his place in the world.
Mom had been the sun at the centre of his life, his family, his everything. Without her all the light and warmth was gone from the world. Instead of a regular (though slightly wonky) orbit his world now felt like it was tumbling through space and gravity was constantly shifting. One moment he was too heavy to move and the next he was so light might be flung out into space. Night and day and seasons, years and everything he measured his life by had been connected to his Mom – waking him and tucking him into bed, making sure he dressed warm enough or wore sunscreen or had his raincoat, keeping track of birthdays and holidays and school excursion days were all her.
During the service no one spoke of Mom and Grandpa like that.
There was music. One of Mom’s favourite piano pieces. Virgil had wanted to be able to play it today, but hadn’t been able to bring himself to even sit at the piano, much less play at all since the accident. So a recording had been found and it was played as a backing track to the slideshow that flickered through image after image of happy memories telling part of two life stories.
There were prayers. Reassuring words from the minister about heaven and God’s love, and the love we should all share with each other. John wasn’t sure exactly how he felt about heaven, or God calling Mom and Grandpa home to his kingdom.
There was a poem read out by one of Mom’s work colleagues. It was something about not crying or being sad because they were gone, but being happy because they had lived. Many of the people in the room were obviously ignoring the advice – his immediate family included. There were a good many wet handkerchiefs and tissues in hands, a great deal of suppressed sobs and eye rubbing, and a few sleeves swiped across cheeks before the service was over.
Scott and Dad were among the pall bearers who carried the coffins out of the church and onto the waiting machinery that would take care of their final movements. John and his brothers and Grandma were the first of the mourners to follow in the sombre procession. Only a small number of people were permitted to follow the hovering gurneys across the grass and through the little cemetery to the waiting square-sided pits. Just family and a few close friends to witness the way the machinery slowly and smoothly lowered each coffin down into the earth, hear the minister recite the final ritual words, and each place a flower or a sprinkling of dirt atop the coffins in a last goodbye.
The rest of the large crowd had been encouraged to make their way into the Sunday School hall where the wake was to take place. Refreshments had been generously laid out on the tables inside. More photographs of both lost loved ones were on display throughout the room, along with so many more flowers and a large number of cards. But many of the people in attendance that day were still milling about outside the church buildings when John and his family returned through the cemetery for the wake.
John’s feet dragged as he approached the gentle hubbub of mingling friendly faces with sympathetic expressions. He could pick out people he knew well if he let himself concentrate, but the sheer number of individuals he was heading towards was a little overwhelming. They didn’t make it inside the hall before the onslaught began. Almost everyone wanted to say something, speak of sympathy, tell a story, offer “any help you need.” So many wanted to reach out, hold a hand or squeeze an arm, some came in for full-on hugs, cheek kisses and loud, teary exclamations of how sad it all was.
John lost his Dad and Grandma to the throng faster than he thought possible, but before he could be swept up in it himself he was thrown a lifeline. There was a familiar presence by his side, a brush of hand against hand, or specifically pinky against pinky – a request and an offer. John grabbed hold of Virgil’s hand and held fast, tethering himself to his brother like an anchor.
He wasn’t entirely sure how it had happened or how long it had taken, but eventually they all made it inside the Sunday School hall. John was only aware of Virgil’s hand in his, the rest was a blur of faces, voices, bodies. Virgil dealt with anyone who stopped them to offer their personal condolences, listening to what they had to say and responding politely but managing to keep the interactions brief and shielding John from most of the attention. Somehow they made their way to a cluster of chairs where Grandma and Dad were seated, Alan in his father’s lap, still accepting condolences from well-wisher after well-wisher.
John was aware of sweat beading on his forehead as Virgil told him to take a seat next to Grandma for a bit, and then his brother disappeared into the crowd to go and fetch Grandma a cup of tea. He wiped sweaty palms on his trousers as he tried to look around the room. His eyes fell on Scott standing a few feet away, taking all the sympathetic social interactions in his stride, nodding, smiling, shaking hands, accepting embraces.
John’s mouth was dry and he wondered if he could make it across the room to grab a drink from the trestle table against the wall, but there was a sea of bodies he’d have to negotiate in between. For a moment his vision blurred and the vague images of people swam in a dizzying fashion before he could find something to focus on. Alan had obviously grown tired of the hair ruffling and cheek pinching and wriggled free of his Dad’s grasp, and was now trying to run through the small gaps between grown up pairs of legs. Gordon was keeping an eye on him – in between snaffling more cakes and cookies from the food table. John watched the terrible two until they were obscured by too many featureless figures.
Despite the late-winter-cool of the day, the church hall felt uncomfortably warm. The large space with its vaulted ceiling, tall, wide windows and polished wooden floorboards felt dark and gloomy and so very crowded. And the non-stop undercurrent of murmuring voices appeared to build in an unbearable crescendo John could not shut out. Too many bodies, too many voices, too much, too close . . . he needed space, he needed air, he had to get out!
Virgil saw his brother get up and hurry a little unsteadily to the exit as he came back with Grandma’s tea. He tried to keep an eye on the red-head so he could follow, but he had to excuse himself to Grandma and Dad, make his way over to Scott, politely interrupt the conversation and whisper in his big brother’s ear.
“John’s bolted. I’m going after him.”
Scott acknowledged with a nod as his eyes darted to the door, already closed again after John’s escape. Virgil wasted no more time in following, but once outside it took him a moment to figure out which direction John had taken.
John had no particular destination in mind, he just needed to get away. His feet carried him across the gravel driveway and through the grass without him registering the change of surface. He ran through the little cemetery without seeing the tombstones he passed, slowing only when he approached the boundary marked with a low stone wall before a neat, tall hedge. Unable to go any farther he turned and wobbled dizzily. His vision narrowed leaving dull blurred impressions of light and shadow. He heard nothing but the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears, and he sank down to the ground, sitting heavily, knees bent and pulled up towards his chest. He scrunched his eyes tightly closed and slammed his hands over his ears, trying to block it all out.
Virgil approached slowly, but without trying to hide the sound of his footsteps. He lowered himself to sit facing John, resisting the strong urge to reach out and touch him. Seeing his brother in such distress clawed at his heart. He couldn’t let him struggle through this alone.
“John?” He kept his voice quiet and hoped he could be heard despite the hands staying firmly pressed against ears. “I’m here with you. Just me. No one else is around.”
There was no noticeable response.
“If you can hear me, I need you to try and slow your breathing down a bit, John. Deep breath in,“ and Virgil inhaled, “and out nice and slow.” Virgil waited for a second, watching John’s shallow, ragged breathing for any change. “In,” another inhaled breath, “and out.”
As Virgil continued repeating the instruction like a mantra John’s breathing gradually began to even out into slower, deeper, more controlled breaths. He wasn’t sure, but he thought John’s vice-like grip over his ears might be relaxing a little too.
“You’re doing great, John. Keep focusing on your breathing. Keep listening. Hear the breeze whispering through the leaves? Did you hear those birds?”
John did hear the cry of a bird overhead, and an answering call a little farther away as his hands drifted away from his head. As he lowered them to limply rest on the ground beside him he heard a gentle gust of wind rustle the hedges, and he registered that it did indeed sound a bit like a whisper.
“The sun’s broken free of the clouds. Can you feel it on your face, John? Can you feel the wind in your hair? You do realise there’s dirt and leaves beneath your fingertips, right?”
John turned his focus where his brother’s voice directed it, feeling the warmth on the left side of his face, and the breeze toying with his hair. There was indeed leaf litter and slightly damp dirt beneath his flexing fingers.
“If you’re ready to open your eyes you’ll see the moon’s out. I like the way the moon looks in the day. Against the blue of the sky the shadows make it look almost see-through.”
Translucent. That would have been a better word for what Virgil was trying to say. The thought flitted through John’s mind as he let his eyes drift open and scan the sky until they latched onto the gibbous moon framed by scattered cumulous clouds. He was also aware there was irony in the way his brother was effectively using the moon to anchor him, to bring him back to earth and ground him in the here and now.
Virgil had stopped talking, leaving the wind and occasional twitters and cries of the birds to fill the silence as John watched the clouds dance around the moon. He could feel his brother’s eyes on him almost as tangibly as he could feel the damp earth he was sitting on and the cool stone of the wall at his back. Now feeling much calmer he took a deep breath and brought his gaze down from the sky to meet the concern and compassion contained in those warm, brown eyes.
“Welcome back.” A hint of a smile played across Virgil’s face as he spoke.
A quiet moment stretched between them. No words spoken, but information passing from brother to brother through eye contact alone.
Content that John was no longer caught in a spiral he couldn’t escape on his own, Virgil glanced over his shoulder towards the Sunday School hall.
“I should go back, but you can stay here if you want. I’ll come and find you when it’s time to go. Just don’t wander off or anything.”
John didn’t speak as he chanced his own glance back toward the ongoing wake. Then, as Virgil made a move to get up and leave, John reached out and grabbed his wrist.
“Stay. Please?”
Virgil stopped and stared first at the fingers digging into his wrist, then into pleading, desperate aquamarine. He simply nodded and adjusted his position so he was sitting next to John, their shoulders touching. John loosened his grip on Virgil’s wrist but didn’t let go, so John’s arm looped around his knees and Virgil’s arm crossed his body to keep the connection. There was an almost imperceptible hesitation, but then simultaneously John leaned in towards his brother and Virgil wrapped his arm around John, pulling them into a secure embrace.
John finally let go of Virgil’s wrist, bringing his arm in close, grabbing a fistful of Virgil’s suit jacket and snuggling closer into his brother’s chest. This enabled Virgil to employ both arms in the hug. John rarely cuddled up like this with anyone, but all the times he could remember doing so were with Mom. His next intake of breath hitched at the realisation, and Virgil held a little tighter. The threat of tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, and he was grateful that, while not the same as a cuddle from Mom, he was still able to find this level of safety and comfort in the arms of someone who loved him.
“I want her back,” he sobbed, letting the tears flow and drip onto Virgil’s jacket.
“Yeah. Me too.”
John heard the tears in Virgil’s voice, but he already knew his brother felt the same absence in their hug.
Neither boy could say how long they stayed out there, huddled together, holding tight while hot tears streaked their cheeks. Time may as well have stood still for all it mattered. Nothing else was important, just the feeling that this moment, however sad, was there’s alone to share until Scott came and found them to tell them it was time to go home.
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orange-waterfalls · 4 years
Text
It's Not A Joke
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Captain Magnum x gender neutral!reader
@sierracolorstheworldofwords ty for the request!
A/N: The ending was a bit rushed because I wanted to get it done before I went to sleep and it is almost midnight,,, so,,, uh Rated T for swearing. Magnum being an oblivious FUCK and reader getting tired of his bullshit. Fluff. Slight angst at some points. This one's a bit short, sorry. Enjoy!
Word Count: 1.9k
--
You stare at Captain Magnum and sigh. He was so wonderful… he was fun, handsome, not to mention tall…
It's really no surprise you have a crush on him.
Every single person on the crew knows of your little crush, and you know that they know. It was obvious! You'd always stutter around him, you blushed whenever he complimented you, and you did everything he asked of you immediately and without question. Everyone knows.
Except, of course, the captain himself.
Everyone was surprised he didn't know, including you. You thought you were being pretty open about it. Granted, you hadn't actually told him yet, but he probably should've figured it out by now. For a pirate captain, he was pretty dumb.
"Really? Again?" Magnum's previous first mate asks. You'd started talking to him after you were made first mate, and you two got along. You both could complain about the captain to each other. You also learned his name was First Mate John. Well… just John now. You'd have to help him come up with a pirate name soon. You were a pretty shy person, but you were less so around John. You felt like you could be comfortable around him.
"Yes, again. What else am I supposed to do?" You scoff.
"I dunno... tell 'im?"
"If he hasn't figured it out by now, I'm not sure I want to," you both laugh.
"Fair enough," he smirks, 'but are ye at least gonna drop some hints or somethin'?" You slowly turn your head towards him.
"What do you think I've been doing the last 3 months?" You joke. He snorts and pats your shoulder.
"Best o' luck t' ye, kid," he chuckles. You give him a small wave goodbye and go back to looking at Magnum. He stands up from his spot on the stair leading to the wheel and starts walking over to you. You go into a mini panic as your heart speeds up and you go back to mopping the floor.
"First Mate Y/N!" He booms. You flinch at the volume.
"H-Hi captain," you stutter, avoiding his gaze, "W-What can I do for you?" He sets a strong hand on your shoulder and you buckle under the strength, your face heating up.
"I was wonderin' if ye would like t' be in charge o' th' next lootin'," he explains, "Ye've been here a while 'n I reckon ye could do it." Your eyes widen and you look up at him. That was apparently a bad idea because you were unable to form actual words after that.
"We, uh… I do.. I mean I'd… um…" you sputter out. He looks at you worriedly.
"Ye alright? Ye look unwell…" he reaches out and feels your forehead. You almost instantly pull away from him. He frowns.
"Ye're burnin' up, mate! Are ye sick?" He gently sets a hand on your head. You duck away, dropping your mop.
"I'm fine!" Your voice cracks, "I'm perfectly okay I just uh… I need to rest a bit is all! Yeah…" you speedwalk to the cabin you share with John and shut the door.
Magnum stands in the middle of the deck, feeling very confused.
"That was strange," he said to himself, "I wonder wha' th' problem be…"
--
About half an hour passed and you were sitting in your bed, your face in your hands. You went over the interaction several times in your head, feeling the same amount of embarrassment and shame each and every time. John walks into your shared room, looking smug.
"I reckon that went well, don't ye?" He teases.
"Shut up…" you groan.
"If he didn' know ye liked 'im afore, he oughta know now."
"And if he doesn't, I'm throwing myself overboard." John laughs and sits on your bed. You peek at him through your fingers.
"Kid, I mean no offense towards th' cap'n, but he's a moron. At least when it comes t' feelin's," you snort in agreement. "Ye needs t' tell 'im directly if ye wants 'im t' know." You remove your hands from your face and sigh.
"Ok… I'll tell him…" you pause. "Later…" John smiles at you.
"There we go," he consoles. He thinks for a moment, wondering what could take your mind off things, before speaking again. "So, the other day, what were you saying about a heist?"
--
That night, you walk out of your cabin, your knees shaking. John had given you another pep talk, along with a couple other crewmates. You felt a little better, but it didn't really help with your anxiety. Your heart is beating so fast you were afraid it would stop. Your palms are oh so very sweaty, and your legs have gone numb at this point. You barely feel them carrying you over to the captain, who was at the wheel. You stand next to him for five minutes, waiting for him to notice you're there. Eventually, he does.
"Ah! First Mate!" He bellowd. You flinch. "Wha' can I do fer ye?" You take a deep breath in.
"I have something to tell you, captain," you say shakily. Neither of you say anything for a while, and you wonder if he heard you.
"Well? Go on then!" He instructs.
"R-Right… ok… um…" you stammer. You keep playing with a button on your shirt, trying to think of what to say. You can feel his eyes on you and it made you even more nervous. Why did you let them talk you into this? You weren't ready! You couldn't do this. You… you…
You look to the side and see John watching you from behind the mast. He gives you a thumbs up. You respond with a smile and he leaves, decided to let you do this on your own. You take a deep breath and…
"I like you, captain," you blurt out. Magnum doesn't respond and you get scared.
"Be that all?" He laughed, "well, I like ye too!" You blink and look up at him. His face didn't seem to change very much. You're about to smile, but pause.
"Captain… I don't think you understand me…"
"O' course I do! I be yer cap'n, ye're part o' me crew, o' course we like each other!" You stare at him.
"That's not what I meant,"
"Oh? 'n wha' did ye mean?"
"I meant…" you pause, wondering if you should just give up. No. You made it this far. Finish it. you command yourself.
"I meant I love you." You say. He looks at you, eyebrows furrowed. "Like… I'm in love with you." You continue, hoping he gets it. He's quiet for a moment before laughing.
"That's real funny, Y/N!" He chortles. You stare at him before letting out a laugh.
"Yeah. Ok. Sure. Yeah, of course. That's fine. I don't even care! That's fucking fantastic!" You grumble. He stops laughing and looks at you.
"That's some language… are ye ok?" He asks. You start walking back to your cabin.
"Yeah, I'm ok! Of course I'm ok! Why wouldn't I be ok?!" You yell and slam your door. Magnum stands there, wondering what just happened.
John opens the door a couple minutes later and walks in.
"Ahoy bud… Ye alright?" He asks gently.
"I don't want to talk about it," you growl.
"Aw, bud…"
"It's not even the fact that he doesn't like me! It's the fact that he laughed! Why would he do that?" You lamented. John set a hand on your shoulder. He's about to say something to try and make you feel better, but he stops.
"Wait… he laughed?" John asks.
"Yeah… why?"
"Would you mind telling him again tomorrow?"
"What? Why the hell would I do that?"
"I want to test something. Please?" He begs. You look at him and sigh.
"Fine… this better be good…"
--
You and the rest of the crew sit and tell stories. Most of the stories are coming from Magnum, but you're not really listening. He notices this and tries to tell more interesting stories, or stories that he thinks you'll find interesting. You still refuse to even look at him, so he lets other people talk.
"Tell him. Right now," John whispers. You sigh and turn to look at Magnum. He leans forward a bit, wanting to hear what you have to say.
"I love you, captain," you say confidently. The whole crew looks at you, and then at Magnum.
"You made that joke last night, Y/N," he laughs.
"It wasn't a joke," you say. His smile falls. The crew decides that it would be a good time to leave, and that's exactly what they do.
"Wha'?"
"It wasn't a joke."
"Wha' do ye mean?"
"I mean I do love you, captain. I'm in love with you. I would like to be in a relationship with you…" your face heats up and you start sweating. God, why were you saying this? Maybe this was the only way he'd understand…
You look up at him and see a confused look on his face. Oh, fuck it… you think.
"I want a relationship with you. I want to hug you and kiss you and hold you close. I want to make you smile and I want to be your shoulder to cry on if you need me to. I want to whisper sweet nothings to you as we fall asleep. I want you to let me love you." You explain, heart racing. Both of you are silent for a minute. You squeeze your eyes shut, waiting for rejection.
"Oh…" he says, uncharacteristically soft. "I… love ye too…" you look at him. He's looking at you, a slight blush on his face.
"You… you do?" He nods a bit. "Then why in the name of Davy Jones did you think it was a joke?!" You shout.
"I didn' know ye'd like me back! I thought ye liked John!"
"What do you mean you thought I liked John?"
"I mean I thought ye liked John!"
"WHY WOULD YOU THINK I LIKED JOHN?!"
"I DUNNO, YE SEEM COMFORTABLE AROUND 'IM, I THOUGHT THAT MEANT YE LIKED 'IM!"
"Oh my God…" you rub the bridge of your nose. "Why did you think I'm always so nervous around you?"
"I thought... y'know... ye found me intimidatin'..."
"Of course I find you intimidating that doesn't mean I don't like you."
"Oh…" He rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment. "Uh... Sorry I was so ignorant t' yer... Affection…" you chuckle at the apology.
"Sorry I didn't tell you sooner," you both sat there, just looking at each other.
"So uh… should we… should we kiss?" He asks nervously.
"Only if you want to. We don't ha-" you're cut off by his lips settling onto yours. You put your hands on his shoulders to keep you upright. He puts his hands on your neck, tilting your head to where he's comfortable.
"Awww!" Multiple voices say from behind you.
"Get a room!" John calls out. You pull away and bury your head in Magnum's shoulder, your face burning.
"Oi! If ye all aren't swabbin' th' deck in th' next five seconds, ye're walkin' th' plank!" He commands. The crew all scramble to get to work. You sigh and pull back to look at him.
"I'm… gonna go help them…" you murmur with a blush. He sighs.
"Ah, okay... We'll... Continue later," he states. You smile and walk away, grabbing your mop. As you mop, you glance at Magnum, seeing him watch you with a lovesick grin on his face. John, also holding a mop, slides up next to you.
"So, when's th' weddin'?"
"Shut up, you fuck!"
the ending is so obviously rushed I'm sorry lol
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Note
How about a HC on the kinks of each camp member, I'm pretty sure even the greatest of villains had a weak, guilty spot somewhere ;P (I don't think it needs any reader interaction but of gender neutral.)
I had actually planned on doing this, so thank you for giving me more of a reason to do it! I’m aware that some of the things I included aren’t really kinks, but I feel like they’re important to mention, none the less. Some people don’t have as many kinks as others, just because I hc them as pretty vanilla. There are also a couple characters that I left out, either because I forgot them or I figured there wouldn’t be that much interest in them anyway. So, sorry Uncle fuckers, it’s just not your day ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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Abigail - Facesitting. Will sit on her partner’s face like it’s a fucking throne. She looks real pretty up there too. Dirty Talk. Domination (switch, but she prefers to dom). She’s a very gentle dom, but she makes it very clear as to what she wants. When she’s with John, there’s a constant power struggle. Spanking. Mostly on the receiving end, but might be down to use those hands if her partner is really into it.
Arthur - Praise. Constantly telling his partner what a good girl/boy they are and uses lots of sweet pet names. Mutual Masturbation. He also has a thing for masturbating in front of his partner/to the sight of them, especially early on in the relationship. Light Spanking. The last thing he wants to do is actually hurt his partner. Dirty Talk. He does most of the talking but loves hearing it back as well. Body Worship on both ends. Sometimes he just wants to be told how handsome and sexy he is, ok? 
Charles - Outdoor Sex. Biting. Usually when he gets close to finishing. He mostly does it so he can keep himself quiet. Afterwards, he kisses any mark he may leave on his partner. Light Spanking. He’s got big, strong hands so he has to restrain himself. Edging. Praise. Primal Play. Face Sitting. Loves having his partner up on top of him, paws at their chest as he pleasures them. General Rough Sex (w lots of sweet, loving aftercare to follow). Body Worship. Gets really flustered if he’s on the receiving end, but he enjoys it none the less. 
Dutch - Daddy Kink. Degradation. Gagging. Can’t have his partner waking up the whole camp now, can he? Light Bondage. Spanking/Belting. Lies his partner down on his cot, ass up, and goes to town on them with his belt. If they make any noise, he gags them and goes way harder 👀. Domination (he’s a dom, and not a particularly nice one). 
(Sorry for the cut, there’s just like,,, 13 more of these and I don’t want to annoy people by clogging up their dash with a wall of text!!) 
Grimshaw - Domination (dom, she runs the show, no matter who she’s with). Thinking about the constant power struggle between her and Dutch makes me feel some kinda way. Praise. I don’t think this is a kink, but Scratching. Marks her partners all to Hell. Back, thighs, shoulders when they eat her out… you name it. Dirty Talk. God she loves hearing it but is fucking fantastic at giving it. A true Queen. Face Sitting. Tell her how hot she is while she’s up there and she’ll die. Not an all the time thing, but she digs complete and utter Body Worship now and then because she’s getting a little insecure in her old age. 
Hosea - Slow/Passionate Sex, but in his prime, Hosea used to be a real stud. Not really a kink, per se, but he loves Spooning. He keeps one hand on his partner’s chest, holding them close, and another stimulating them. Has a thing for Toys, though they’re not readily available. Cock rings are his favourite, just because it helps him stay hard longer. Praise. Edging, though he can’t handle it himself. He encourages his partner to hold off, it’s really sweet. Not sure what it’s called, but he has a thing for younger folk. Probably in their mid to late 20s or early 30s.
John - A true king of Power Bottoming. Biting, but that’s just the raccoon in him coming out. His partner needs to get a rabies shot before they have sex. Mostly on his partner’s neck and thighs. General Rough Sex, but also slows it down sometimes. Light/Playful Degradation, nothing too extreme. Even though he’s not super into giving oral, if he’s with a lady he loves Face Sitting. He might be willing to have a male partner sit on his face, but I think he’d really have to be with the right fella. Domination (a switch, but I’m leaning more towards dom). Light Bondage, tie this boy up and ride him!! He goes crazy!!
Javier - Light Knife Play. Mostly just for show, but sometimes he will run it across his partner’s skin and draw a lil bit of blood. He has cut his hand all to Hell fucking you with the handle of his knife before. Daddy Kink (prolly in Spanish 🤤). Domination (he’s a dom, not into being submissive). General Rough Sex. He can be very aggressive, so be warned.  Facesitting. Choking. Usually, he grabs your throat to make you look him in the eyes, especially when he’s about to finish. Praise/Degradation. He goes from calling his partner a whore to ‘mi corazon’ in .0002 seconds flat. Self-proclaimed king of Dirty Talk. 
Karen - Ok this girl is so into Rough Sex I have no idea how she was with Sean. Domination (such a good lil sub, but does like to have control sometimes). Choking. Deepthroating or if she’s with a lady Facesitting. Just likes to be messy in general.  Praise. Likes to receive it, but she can and will give it back. Likes NEEDS to be coddled and told how beautiful she is afterwards, so I’ll throw in Body Worship as well. Light Bondage; she is the prettiest rope bunny. 
Kieran - Mutual Masturbation, especially when the relationship is new. He’s not very experienced, so taking things slow would make him much more comfortable. That being said, Clothed Sex is also a thing that Kieran enjoys. Praise. Outdoor Sex. He loves to sneak away from camp and get it on in a meadow or somewhere else that’s pretty and quiet :,) Domination (he’s a sub and he NEEDS to be told what to do), but he does best with a sweet and gentle dom. Overstimulation, on both ends. Particularly enjoys it when he’s on the receiving end, even though he swears he doesn’t in the moment.
Lenny - My baby boy. I don’t think he’s that kinky tbh. Deepthroating is a big thing for him though. Loves to look at his partner absolutely choke on his length. Which is a little out of character, but we all have our weaknesses. Actually, Oral is a big thing for him in general. He always, always, always, makes sure his partner’s needs are taken care of. The amount of Praise this boy gives is unbelievable. When he gets it back, he gets a little flustered, but it’s surely a soft spot for him. Especially if his partner tells him he’s a good boy, or something similar. He has really long Fingers and loves to have his partner suck on them before he goes to town on them. Lenny is a pretty vanilla boy but I love him anyway.
Mary-Beth - Slow/Passionate Sex. Not exactly a kink, but Erotica. She probably has some of her steamiest encounters written down somewhere. She often touches herself while re-reading them. Body Worship. She can be kinda insecure, so she loves hearing how beautiful she is. On the flip side, if you’re her partner, expect to be treated like a queen/king. Forreal.
Micah - General Rough Sex. Domination (a very, very mean dom). Gun Play. For show, mostly. But sometimes he does have his partner suck off the barrel of one of his guns, that’s hot. Degradation. Deepthroating is probably his biggest weakness. Loves seeing his partner gagging and choking on his cock. He doesn’t feel the least bit bad about it either. Belting/Spanking. He really overdoes it sometimes oops. Orgasm Denial, his partner really has to work for it if they want to cum.
Molly - Praise/Degradation. Call her little pet names and she’ll melt. But also responds well to being called mean names when she’s been ‘bad’. Domination (totally a sub). She likes a dom that will be rough, yet loving with her. Spanking. Bonus points if her partner makes her count the spanks as they go along. Edging. She gets really squirmy and whiny and by the end, she gets really flustered and swears to God that she’ll never do it again, but she always does :)) 
Sadie - General Rough Sex, usually the one to initiate… Y’know. Light Slapping, Spanking, the usual. Domination (dom, but does like to switch it up sometimes). Super into Oral, won’t fuck her partner unless she’s given them a nice sloppy blowjob or left their legs shaking from eating them out. She’s also into receiving. She loves sitting on her partner’s face, but I would describe it more as FaceRiding because she really puts in the extra work up there. Likes to hear her partner use some Dirty Talk. She tries her best to reciprocate, but she gets flustered and can’t do it very well.
Sean - Light Bondage. Another boy that likes to be tied up and ridden. But this one gets very bratty very fast. FaceSitting. He swears he wants to die by being drowned in pussy. Can we make that canon? Loves giving Facials. Always tells his partner how fucking pretty/handsome they look with his cum all over their face. Praise for days. Loves to give it, loves to have it thrown back at him. Especially if he’s going down on his partner. 
Trelawny - Heavy Bondage. Whipping/Cropping. We love a BDSM king. Domination (he’s obv the dom). Idk what to call this, but he has a thing for Fingers. Loves to have his partner suck on them, and vice versa. Expect a lot of fingering in foreplay. Praise. Always tells his partner how good they’re doing, especially when things get intense. Edging/Overstimulation and he will be MEAN about it too. Orgasm Denial if his partner is ‘naughty.’ 
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Welcome all, and Goodbye Sun! Spent all day on uni today. So here's a reeeeeally long post. A lot to reflect on. My writing style may seem odd to some, but its how I retain a good memory of it all, by putting a lot of words on paper. So here's my paper of reflections on my first day back in #ctec502 with Roy and our korero.
Also my paint arrived. Hell YES. MORE PAINTING.
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Carol Dweck on The Power of Yet,
I like that there is this method of teaching, how we think at a very young age, the power of critical and developing thought. It is innately in built into us from a time perhaps before birth, since it is consciousness that we are transforming and interpreting here, using our capacity to think, but CONSCIOUSLY.
There has been a book available in a well voice acted audio version on YouTube called The Tao of Pooh. This insightful little story teaches us the way of the Tao, as in the perspective of Lao Tzu, a particularly old and equanimous monk.
In the famous Winnie the Pooh by A.A.Milne, the archetypal too-busy-working, close/fixed-mindset, is played by the character Rabbit, a woodland creature that is so caught up in their mind they don't actually interpret what they experience or can learn from others or themselves.
In relevance to Carol Dweck's studies into 'the power of yet', it really is all about culture, ethics, opportunities and social conditioning. Childrens minds are like sponges were told, and we see it everyday, even in ourselves. We understand that yes, there is a need for workers and people who can do repetitive tasks, as how it is taught in a modern conventional schooling system, BUT THE ACTUALITY IS to any student where they are given the opportunity to choose what they want to learn, are made aware of how they can learn and evolve when given a certain challenge, in a non judgemental and constructive environment, we can drastically enhance the collective intellect of our whole interlinked social network within the short span of a year as claimed by Carol Dweck.
Here is some art that was created by myself during a 4 day Stay at Home MURAL Festival that had the theme of bringing light to issues of the world but in a positive and beautiful way.
With over 700 artists in 50 or more countries... even this simple idea to bring intelligent and simple, beautiful, artistic, childish action, that's bold for its first year running!! All from Covid-19.
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Casey Reas on Digital Algorithm Art
In the first online lecture given by Roy, I was surprised we would be using algorithms so quickly in our physical work, and it took me back to my day of using procedure based processing to create scenes in a program made to generate 3D environments, this program was called Terragen 2.
Using the software called Context Free to render simple shapes and sophisticated 'real' clouds in a 2D representation even if it is generated in 3 dimensions if programmed, (and 4 dimensions if animated) it was interesting to understand why my PC I used up to 10 years ago clogged with animal fur, would die on me when I left it to render a scene in ridiculously high quality over a period of multiple hours. It was because of the amount of shapes I'd set my PC to fully render without understanding that the picture is more sophisticated than a simple blink and reality is made, it is GROWN AS A SERIES OF INTERCONNECTED OBJECTS and it adapts to or from the environment with the interconnectedness that is afforded by their state of consciousness (programming) and the matrix of energy they take form as in this sedimentary moment in reality.
The past affects the future render layer in a moment of rendering. Also the future affects the past layer by building or deleting or transforming itself, this seed from moment to moment. This Animation. To give an object a code or seed to existence, even if you can't control all of its inputs, simplicity can create diversity and complexity and vice versa.
The amount of revelation I can place in rendering in procedural matrix or lattice realities...I would love to see that in my work on mixed media and mixed reality assignments or projects I endeavour to entertain or seek out.
But this in itself is a paradox. Am I pulled to this future by my simple minded flow toward this source, as is entropy, as is the movement of all things. ..There is more than black and white to all situations. Usually it's black and white or white and black. Lighter darks or darker lights.
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I wouldn't be at university because I didn't have a revelation to attend it last year. I wouldn't be at university if I felt so depressed I needed to leave. I wouldn't be at university if I wasn't allowed to attend. Nevertheless I know. I know that I am pulled forward to where I'm meant to be, as much as I am falling into old habits, they're not old, they're new, but its my consciousness that calls them old and tries to outdo the habit one moment, while another moment were relieved we didn't listen to the critical mind saying we shouldn't do what we don't want to do. Everything has a cause and effect like the render in window. Like my life on pen and paper. Like my mind engaged in its word spinning and weaving.
I digress back to my art in context of the Casey Rea's YouTube video.
A fun aspect of my art is it would look amazing even in a quick render with plenty of visual noise, but I love the simplicity of procedural based virtual world and object creation and the layers it can develop or devolve into.
Another thing is using Photoshop to apply visual post production enhancements was also something I really enjoyed as a part of the iterative process, and this has been reaffirmed in a book I have just picked up called Photoshop for 3D artists V1 by 3dtotal Publishing.
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I watched all the videos recommended by Roy in his pdf today from the lecture and I can summarise my views on them:
Carol Dweck: This type of learning should be more widespread in our culture. Only way it will change is if we change, and teach others the same way. It begins with us. I enjoy the way Roy engages with us in our lectures like we're human beings and not students. I think this is the most important thing about his teaching that enthuses me, and the themes of his classes are quite informative.
Casey Reas: I like his work, I'm not new to this idea of art, but I did like to see his process. I wouldn't certainly seek out a video like that one given but it definitely was insightful into his particular environment and methods of producing ideas.
John Maeda: Wow this guy really looks like he's on the guide for dummies, and he definitely could write a few of them. Was a great insight into his perception of reality and how he expressed his ideas and himself was also simplified complex ideas and that they are readily available to see or interact with including his book. Simple. It's right there in front of you. All it takes is a shift in perception to discover what was currently scanned over as unimportant details by our consciousness. It's all right there in front of us, or if we feel something, from within us.
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Warren Berger: Well to be honest, he didn't excite me as many of the other videos because his idea was so simple and not really that much of a paradigm shift within myself. It always can come down to refinement of an unwanted edge. Does one see a wave as something that can be answered? Can you answer that question? How about the question preceding this one? Can a bird fly as well as a fly can bird? Why is a raven like a writing desk? Why do we play 20 questions? We are always in an iterative process of rendering our existence and our legacy in this reality by the choice we have when faced with a question. Depending on its complexity or cryptically contrived hindrances, we will always be faced making a choice, or answer the question of our existence, with our consciousness in this moment. And can we use that moment to ask something we have never thought we had an idea about before...like why isn't my skin purple? Where did my consciousness come from and why is it specifically in belief that I am me, every time I get up at 8 am, but not while I am in the throes of a dream?
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Riddle me that and I'll ask you why
Cottleston, cottleston, cottleston pie.
I have seen my lives
In my eye
Simply put, I never die
It's not a riddle, it's who am i
Cottleston, cottleston, cottleston pie.
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omegangrins · 5 years
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The Hateful 8: Chris Mannix was made the Sheriff of Red Rock by his siblings so they could kill him from a distance.
Tl;dr: Due to his intelligence, mouth, and aspirations, Chris Mannix "was" appointed Sheriff of Red Rock via a sham election organized by his siblings so they could kill him anonymously from a distance.
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I love the ambiguous nature of Walton Goggin's character Chris Mannix in The Hateful Eight. A man who joined his father and family to ransack towns in order to inspire fear for the Confederacy, dying by the side of the type of person he hated most. All whilst claiming to be a lawman. And it's always made me wonder if he was telling the truth or.... not really actually. I always thought he was telling the truth. Cause he never lies throughout the whole movie. In fact, he catches several people in lies (Marquis, Gage, Daisy). There are even several times where he refers to himself as a Sheriff believing that he will live to carry out his threats. He's either an excellent actor with his own side game in this movie, or he truly believes what he says is true.
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Here's where things get subjective and I don't have a lot of information on (Part of why I'm putting it out to the world.). There's a line by John Ruth where he says that Chris is Erskine Mannix's youngest boy. Now here's where you can imply a few things. We know he's not an only child definitely not one of two sibling, or Ruth would refer to Chris as "the other one" or some such. And he says youngest boy so we can infer that Erskine had daughters. Meaning that if this is a regular Carolinan family from the 1800's, they would have as many kids as possible. Low ball estimate of 2 girls and 4 boys. But enough of them to dislike the little one.
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Now let's look at Chris. If he's the youngest of the family then one could infer that he's had the hard life. Almost a runt in the litter type. But he's a man who values dignity and true leadership. Both traits of honest men. Then if we take what he says about being Sheriff to be true, he also never tells a lie, makes a deception, or attempts to hurt/kill anyone preemptively (at least any one that hadn't already tried to kill him 😄). He even realizes his tongue is getting him into stupid trouble on the stagecoach so he shuts down the conversation and apologizes for his getting riled up. Clearly a man that understands the rules of society and is happy to play by them. Yet still an honest man nonetheless.
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His honesty can even be seen in his dissemination of other people's lies. It takes him less than 15 minutes after learning of Marquis' letter to realize it was a fake, and he didn't even have to read it. All he did was add up the pieces of Major Marquis Warren he knew. Joe Gage he more or less guessed/used instinct. But, he figured out that all of what Daisy Domergue said was bullshit the same way he figured out Warren's letter was shit: character context clues. So, he's great at spotting lies. This will come in later with the family bit.
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This is what makes me think about this the most though. He always refers to himself as the new Sheriff of Red Rock. Not just in greetings but in negotiation stances and regular interactions. When Mannix meets John Ruth and Co. and Ruth asks for his badge, Chris tells them that if they're bounty hunters, it's him they're taking their dead bounties to. And when John Ruth refuses to let him board without manacles, Mannix tells O.B. that he will be legally obliged to inform the Marshal at Red Rock that Ruth left the new Sheriff to freeze without assisting him. A similar thing happens when they reach the Haberdashery. When Marquis draws his weapon on Sanford E. Smithers, and Oswaldo Mobray's reminds him that he'll hang in Red Rock if he does. Mannix steps next to Smithers and reaffirms that he will make sure that Marquis will hang, seeing that he is the new Sheriff and all. In fact, one of the first things that Chris does is interact with the person he believes to be Red Rock's new hangman. Going so far as to ask if he can see the hanging papers for the man who shot the Sheriff that Chris is replacing. He even cordially chats up with Oswaldo, reasoning they'll be working together soon.
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And finally, near his deathbed, with no one to care, he declares his "first and final act, as the Sheriff of Red Rock" is to have Domergue hanged. A rather strange moment to commit to a lie, if it were one. Especially considering Marquis lets him read the faux Lincoln letter minutes letter. Sure seems like the perfect opportunity to confess all of one's lies and yet Chris stays quiet. So we can assume that he meant what he said. Or at least, he thought it was true....
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This is where the Mannix family comes back into play. We learn during bits of dialogue throughout the movie that Erskine Mannix led a team of Confederate rebels known as Erskine's Marauders during and after the Civil War. It can be implied that the entire Mannix family was apart of this, since it's said their numbers reached around 400. So of course Erskine's kids would hop on this hate train. Chris says as much when talking about fighting under his father's command. Erskine Mannix held the Marauders together after the war with nothing but his command and respect. In fact, it's one of the things Chris most admired about his father. You can tell he looked up to his daddy.
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Now I get into the extrapolating subjective era. Remember what I said about the number of kids? Call it 6 kids for Erskine with Chris being the youngest but probably smartest. Several characters also bring up that Erskine died recently. So this leaves a power vacuum. It's probably one of those situations like in the stagecoach where he can run his mouth a bit too much, or like he does with Ruth and Warren, use legal leverage to gain an upper hand. (If this was Game of Thrones, Chris would be a Tyrion type character. Good natured, hated, but bloody good at playing the game.). He's a player that needed to be shut up. I'd wager there came a time after/before Erskine died where Chris wanted more power in the family. He started to exert influence and amass bits of power, becoming more politically dangerous. Sort of like Fredo.
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Seeing this, his brothers and sisters decide to hatch a simple scheme to kill him one of three ways. First, they pay a man to kill the Sheriff in Red Rock (I imagine as Marauders they would have plenty of cash. Look at Chris, he ain't dressed in rags.) and bribe public officials to rig the election so Chris becomes Sheriff. They do this in order to make it seem authentic to the already established sharp-eyed Chris Mannix. With the hard part done, next comes the killing. The first death they set up in Red Rock along with the previous bribing. All it takes is finding someone else *also* willing to kill the Sheriff. That way when Chris comes to town, he suffers the same fate as the Sheriff before him. Second way is by horse. This is closer to conjecture but Chris doesn't seem to have the attachment to his horse that Marquis did. Meaning either that it wasn't his horse, it was but he didn't care, or that no one asked him so that's something about him we'll never know. What it could mean though, is that he was given a lame horse without his knowledge. Third thing is the blizzard. It's a long distance from Wyoming to Red Rock. And a blizzard that large would have signs that would be spottable even back then. So he was sent into a white hell on a lame horse heading to an eventual bullet. Sounds like a plan that we're not seeing all the pieces of. So if his family was planning to get rid of him and his overly smart and mouthy ways, they had set up several opportunities to have it done.
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Final weird thing to think about. There is a complaint that The Hateful Eight title doesn't work numerically with the characters we are given and their backstories. To that I would add that it does. I think O.B. and Mannix are the two odd "good" guys out, either with integrity or by not trying to actively hurt anyone in the story. Everyone of the main characters tries to kill other people in cold blood, and only O.B. and Mannix shoot no one, or wait until they are shot at. And if you include his telling the truth to himself that he is Sheriff, then he and O.B. are the only "pure of heart" ones.
In the end, Chris was telling the truth and also unknowingly lying. True that he'd been made Sheriff, and a lie that he would stay that way for long. He's the best of both worlds. The greyest of grey characters.
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What do you think Jade Lalonde, Rose Harley, and Dave Egbert would be like? I've already seen some analysis on John Strider so i don't wanna force you into rehasing anything ^^;
Jade Lalonde, my girl Jade raised by a Permissive parent, probably wouldn’t look toooooooo terribly different from canon Jade. Her interests are well financed, and she’s a good self-motivator, which is probably good because showing off her achievements to a drunken parent isn’t going to get the same response as a coherent parent. Of course, Mom is super proud of her brilliant daughter, and of COURSE she loves her super duper dearly and thinks Jade is the most intelligent girl alive, but it can get a little frustrating for Jade to explain her interests, and then ten minutes later realize her mom hasn’t retained a word. This Jade’s gonna be more acclimated to frustration and broken expectations, which is gonna manifest itself in two ways. She’s not gonna respond much at all when she’s disappointed, sometimes by really major things that she SHOULD get pissed off about, or she’s going to blow the fuck up over seemingly minor shit that most people would be able to brush off. But it’s more about the principle of the thing than the actual expectation that got broken, y’know? Probably gonna be sneakier than canon Jade, able to manipulate the situation to get her mom to actually DO stuff she needs her to, whether that be through passive aggression or batting her eyelids or setting up a situation so her mom “conveniently” will be reminded of certain things, and that’s gonna carry over into her other relationships as well, entirely unintentionally at first, that’s just sorta how she’s used to operating. Her role, then, as the Witch of Light, combined with that naturally honed ability to manipulate the situation with intelligence and a calculated amount of luck, is going to be one that comes naturally to her, and she’s going to be a HELLRAISER. She’s going to be UNPARALLELED. There will be no imp nor ogre nor time travelling demon who spits destruction from his maw that will be able to stand against her. She’s here, she’s brilliant, and she and her friends will be catching no unlucky breaks because she is the one whose will Luck bends to.
Rose Harley, raised by a dog and some chess people, alone on an island. Probably gets pretty entrenched in her know it all bossy phase pretty quick, but is less sure of herself. Doesn’t get a lot of positive feedback aside from her dog and some chess people who she’s pretty sure she’s smarter than, but that makes human interaction even harder for her, and she’s never really been good at interpersonal stuff to begin with. Lots of false confidence, I think, but suffers from impostor syndrome pretty badly. She WANTS to belong in the group, she really really wants to be involved and included and someone who BELONGS there, but can’t shake the nagging feeling that everyone else is a regular human being and she’s. Weird. And not in a good way. Gonna be more anxious than her canon counterpart, I think. Her favorite books she’s read 1000 times over and she’s got SUPER in-depth thoughts and analysis for the stuff she takes interest in, a very very brilliant girl who is never sure when “sharing” becomes “oversharing” and when “odd in a fun way” becomes “Rose that’s creepy.” Her role as the Seer of Space goes along well with being awake on Prospit prior to the Game even starting, as she has dealt with visions of the future all her life. Unfortunately, since space is all-encompassing, she’s not seeing what is fortuitous, or what WILL happen, or even what SHOULD happen, she’s seeing what happens in pretty much any timeline anywhere and it’s her task to sit down, think about what she’s Seen, and parse together whether they should or shouldn’t take that path. Her honed analytical skills will be pushed to their limits and brought to task over and over again, but through her smarts and what she has Foreseen, she is able to direct their group and conduct them in such a way that the new universe is spawned and they are able to win. The fact that she is SO CRUCIAL to their success helps her feel more like part of the group, but presents a NEW problem of wondering if maybe now they’re just pretending to be interested in her for her abilities. Her big hurdle is allowing herself to see that she is loved and wanted, and she truly does belong with them.
Dave Egbert is a kinda nerdy dude, he takes his camera with him everywhere and is always taking selfies or posting stuff to his instagram and did you hear? I heard someone say he has a collection of like, roadkill or something. Dave absolutely has a collection of dead shit. Also cicada shells that show up on the trees and bushes, because hey man cicada shells are cool. He’s super into his dumb nerd shit like video games and even reads that dumb gamebro magazine that he damn well KNOWS is dumb but he likes it and he’s not embarrassed about his interests! He knows the stuff he likes isn’t cool and doesn’t try to pass it off as cool, he just enjoys himself and fuck the haters. He ADORES his dad, was definitely one of those kids that began crying the MOMENT his dad dropped him off at daycare or smth, very attached but also complains about him sometimes, because kids complain about their parents, especially since Dad Egbert is the type of dude to walk up in front of his kid’s friends and use the embarrassing toddler nicknames like “sport” or “squirt” or smth and Dave’s friends are like “lmao your dad actually calls you ‘sport’ I thought that only happened in movies” and Dad also has like, a wallet full of Dave’s pictures and Dave is just like “daaaaaad” but also heck yes he was an ADORABLE baby so he sorta thrives off the attention. Has the biggest, dumbest crush on John imaginable. Dad found out Dave was queer not because Dave came out, but because Dave is just SO OBVIOUS about his stupid giant big dumb crush on John and Dad just sorta… quietly accepted this about his son and tries to be a good parent however he can. He’s not the most well-educated about queer stuff but he always tries his best to be respectful and that goes doubly now that he knows his kid isn’t straight. Dave having a supportive parent is a very good concept and one I am wholly behind in literally every way. His role as Knight of Breath is the defender of freedom, which probably means he must first liberate his consorts from his denizen, and then has to go a step further to protect his friends, probably from their own neuroses. Jade thinks she has to leap through all these mental hoops, but she doesn’t, Rose thinks she has to PROVE her worth, that she’s valuable, but Dave would love his sister even if she couldn’t do anything for them, John has been trapped in this toxically masculine, angry place for years and Dave can help him out of there, help him find peace and acceptance even within himself, Dave can pry back the dark gunk that’s been coating John’s soul and let him breathe freely, possibly for the first time in his life.
John Strider, we’ve touched on so I’ll just go over briefly here, but I like to keep these asks done in sets and now that I’ve set a pattern I’m not breaking it. John would end up one of those nasty, nasty, angry bullies. Bro is toxic, abusive, hypermasculine, and unpredictable, which means John winds up angry, lashing out, and hypermasculine as well. He goes way too far, way too often, and doesn’t apologize, total jock stereotype from oldtimey movies and shit, strong and athletic and attractive and just plain mean. Acts like he’s hot shit because whenever he’s at home he’s painfully reminded that he is small, and weak, and can’t actually do anything. Dave is his bro and he likes him plenty but he makes a lot of mean spirited gay jokes to start, probably as a cover for his own identity crisis that he has buried so deep deep down inside him you’re gonna need a shovel to unbury that shit, and is oblivious to Dave’s crush on him. Has a soft spot for Jade, who is kinda the only person who can get John to talk about his feelings frankly and honestly, and probably has a crush on Rose because he thinks that that’s what he’s supposed to do. She’s a girl, she’s his friend, that’s how heterosexuality works, right? His role as Heir of Time, I’m afraid, would be a deeply unpleasant one. What would likely happen is he directs the alpha timeline by having his offshoot timeline selves merge with his alpha self, like what Rose did from Davesprite’s timeline back in canon. But instead of just, like, ONE offshoot timeline self merging with the whole, it’s every single dead John. Every single time his friends die, he dies, every time something goes wrong, he gets to Experience that. He gets to have those memories seared into his brain, one with himself, one with every timeline that has ever existed, and it only further cements his belief that life is cruel, and uncaring, and doesn’t give a single solitary shit about him, or his loved ones, because he does love them. He’s broken inside, all warped and twisted wrong, but he does love them. It is only, and I do mean ONLY, once he and Dave manage to have their heart-to-heart, once John allows Dave in, that John is able to slowly pry out of the dark and hurting place that has stifled his soul for so long. Not to be stupidly, ridiculously cliche, but it is love that frees him, and the love between the two of them that helps him heal. John Strider and Dave Egbert would be a nigh-inevitable otp like that’s just the way this AU would work out my dudes.
*sticks m leggy out* I love getting long winded and these are fun, please share your thoughts with me my dudes. 
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itsclydebitches · 3 years
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She's the kind to be like "i'll kill for you", it's all fun and games until she actually means and/or does it. I'm assuming it's the same if not similar in the books? it's just so annoying to see a character treat everyone, including the man she is supposed to be in love with like shit and have it just be "well that just makes her a good mum" like idk this kind of devotion isn't healthy for her or Ciri either.
I read a lot of posts all over talking about yen and why people do and don't like her and it's all "you have to get past the cold rude arrogant outside to learn deep down she does care", or there was this one said people take what she says as who she is over what she does, as if she isn't saying AND doing terrible things, but there was this other one that was "actions don't define you as a person" that was a fucking ride to read through.
Anyway I'm just kinda miffed cause I went in to this trying really hard and wanting to like yen but she's so unlikable it's crazy. Maybe if her first few scenes weren't her being rude to Geralt for no real reason (and that snark about him and amnesia like BRO??) there wouldve been something to build off? Idkkkk
tysm for letting me talk about this! there's still so much within the series to look at and I adore it. apart from some things lmao BUT as with everything, there'll be bits you really just hate I guess.
You kidding? I love chatting about all this! XD
From what I've read myself and encountered elsewhere (I've gotten a lot of snippets from the later books as fans post excerpts for various arguments) Yen is a bit more complex in the novels than she's presented in TW3, especially depending on which dialogue options you choose. I mean, it's eight books. There are absolutely moments where I've gone, "Oh yeah, that's cute/sensible/romantic/heroic/etc." of her. She'd have to be a pretty static character to have that much content and not produce those reactions at least some of the time. That being said... she's definitely too similar in the books for my taste. Really, Yen was going to be an issue for me from the start, just given how her and Geralt's meeting goes in "The Last Wish." Her cruelty, brainwashing, and nearly getting him killed aside - because let's be real, an enemies to lovers-esque dynamic can be great - the wish itself always tainted their interactions for me. Yeah, yeah, I understand the theme of Geralt choosing his family regardless of what destiny or magic might say about it... but that doesn't erase that they are ambiguously bound by some kind of magic. We can read Yen's "You've condemned yourself to me" as just a lack of self-confidence, Geralt's love remaining a true thing no matter what any genies might have to say about it, but I personally can't ignore the very real, in-world, magical influence here. Every time the books discuss how often they've split, cheated on each other, fought, betrayed... but deep down they were still meant for one another, I'm thinking, "Are they? Or is that just the magical wish keeping two incompatible people tethered?" We can read them finding joy in one another despite the magic as something beautiful, or something tragic because what other choice did they have? Given how central that rocky relationship is to our protagonist's characterization and how awful Yen can be in general, yeah, she's still an acquired taste lol. She does get better later on, but how better I think depends on how you perceive her attitude at the start. Idk if you're into My Hero Academia or not, but I often compare her to Bakugo. Those who were already inclined to excuse his behavior hail the amazing growth he undergoes; those who couldn't stand him from the start (me) find the comparative improvement to still equal a pretty unlikable person. They're both undoubtedly better... but if you're starting that low, "better" won't necessarily be enough.
Oof yeah, I've seen those threads lol. One of my favorites was a discussion about whether Yen was a "bitch" or not (it also doesn't help when conversations about her character devolve into generic accusations of misogyny) and there was a response to the effect of, "Just because she's cold, judgmental, makes cruel remarks, and doesn't listen to Geralt doesn't mean..." and it's like okay, so we're just supposed to ignore all those traits - bypass them - to reach a "Yen is actually a kind person" reading? I have trouble with that lol. Honestly, the majority of my respect goes to those who are just in their fandom corners with their John Mulaney voice going, "Yen is a bitch and I love her SO MUCH." Like yeah!! I love lots of mean, awful, bitchy characters too!! There's no need to bend over backwards trying to prove they're actually a uwu poor baby whose every action was justified (outside of, you know, fandom joking like the "I've done nothing wrong ever in my life" meme). But yeah, I WANT to like her too! I don't enjoy being a part of a franchise where such a core, prominent character is someone I don't like spending time with. Who would want that?? So I've given her so many tries since getting into Witcher... and it just never sticks for me. I tried in the comics too only to come across a panel where Geralt dreams of Yen, but isn't sure if it was an actual dream, or a magical vision where they literally met. Vesemir asks if Yen was kind to him and when he responds that she was, he's like, "It was a dream lol." And yeah, that's the characterization! Geralt knows he didn't actually meet with Yen because the real Yen wouldn't have been that nice to him. And it's not in a funny "My real lover ALWAYS teasingly insults me as an act of kindness!" way but a much more literal, "Yeeeaaah. Yen just isn't that nice a person most of the time" and the examples we can point to when she is kind don't outweigh/erase everything else for me. In TW3 at least, she's very much the kind of person who will, completely seriously, blame you for getting amnesia. And you know the best part? She had it too! Not only that, but she actually recovers her memories earlier than Geralt and never looked for him and you also learn in the second game that she had a relationship with another guy while trying to remember who she was... so the fact that she's pissed at Geralt for going through the exact same thing (not seeking her out/relationship with Triss - only Triss was actively seducing him, so) is just wild to me.
But yeah, TW3 is a MASSIVE game that deliberately plays with different choices and perspectives. To say nothing of its "Life is hard and people need to be harder" worldbuilding. It would be a miracle if we liked every single thing in it lol. Like, Blood and Wine is probably my favorite bit of gaming ever and yet I just fundamentally disagree with CDPR's idea of a happy ending there. For both the main questline and a particular side quest the game goes, "This one is the correct choice ;)" and I'm like, "Lol not to my mind I'll take one of the 'bad' endings thanks!" Yen is just another example of that. The game clearly wants us to like her - she and Geralt are canon in the source material - but giving us the ability to decide who Geralt is means that we might just go, "Nope. Sorry. This 'correct' choice is one I'm passing by."
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