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tumbling-odyssey · 3 years

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Games I played in 2020

Just felt like getting my thoughts out on all the games I played this year. I’ve been wanting to do something like this for years but I always let it pass me by. Well not this year! Fuck you laziness!

I played the first half in 2019 but finished it in 2020 so I guess I'll count it. DQ11 was my intro to Dragon Quest and what a good starting point. I'm not exaggerating when I say this is one of the best traditional JRPGs on the market. Characters, story, combat, it all clicks in just the right way to make a flawless game... until the end credits roll that is.

I have no idea what happened with the post game but by god does it dive off a cliff. It undermines everything you worked to do in the main plot. The characters act brain dead and it shamelessly reuses events from the main game. Please pick up and play DQ11 but for the love of god just stop when the credits roll.

Doom is a game I knew I'd like. The heavy metal ascetic and soundtrack were right up my alley, but I just never found the time. With Eternal on the way though and having found it on the cheap at a pawn shop I figured there was no time like the present. Needless to say but I was right. I loved everything about this game. The thrill of combat, the screech of the guitars, and the silent take no shit attitude of Doomguy. Make no mistake though, I SUCK at this game. I played on easy but still got my ass handed to me on the regular. But I don't care, I was having way to much fun.

I flipped my shit when this game got leaked at the tail end of 2019. Zero 3 is my all time favourite game. To celebrate this getting announced I went and 100% Zero 3 as I hadn't done it on my current cart, and Zero 3 was still the first thing I played when I got this collection! I love that game to death and I’m glad to have it on modern consoles again. As I was under a bit of time crunch with other games releasing soon I only played 2 other games in the collection Zero 4 and ZX Advent. Until the DS collection those and 3 were the only Zero/ZX games I had so I have a lot of nostalgia for them.

Zero 4 hold ups better then I remember. Not as good as 3 but a damn solid game with tweaks I honestly wish hit the series before its end. I remember having issues with the stage design and ya it’s not perfect, but it’s far from as bad as I thought. For ZXA this was the first time I beat the game on normal difficulty. For some reason the ZX games have always given me more trouble than the Zero games, so finally beating one on normal was very exciting. Maybe I can now finally go and beat ZX for the first time...

The Mystery Dungeon series rising from the depth to punch all those unexpecting in the face was a very welcome surprise. I had a lot of hype going into this one as I have very fond memories of my time with Red Rescue Team and even more with Explorers of Darkness. And the game lived up to it! The remastered music is great and crazy nostalgic, the 3D models are well used and don't feel as stiff as they do in the core series, and the QOL changes are near perfect... So why did I drop this game like a rock once I finished the main quest?

Anyone familiar with Mystery Dungeon will know that the post game is the real meat of it. The story is short and all the really cool shit comes in after it's done. But I just couldn't bring myself to put more time in after I finished said story mode. I'm definitely chocking that up to me just not being in the mood then an issue with the game. Here's hoping we get an Explorers DX sometime soon. That will fucking hook me for all it's got.

Second verse same as the first. I loved this game and sucked at it horribly. Out of all the games I've played this year Doom Eternal is the one I want to go back to the most. I was not the hugest fan of some of the changes made and retained a stance that I liked 2016 better. First person platforming has never been a fun experience in my opinion and Eternal did little to change that. And I know this a lukewarm take at best but fuck Marauders!. They are so unfun to fight and ruin the pace. The Marauder in the last mook wave took me so long I was worried I wouldn’t be able to finish the game. But the more I've seen of Eternal after my playthrough makes me think I was being far to harsh. I haven't played the DLC yet either. Mostly cuss I haven't heard great things about it. Gonna wait for the rest of it to come out to see if it's worth getting. Might just replay to whole game at that point to see if it clicks with me better.

This was my second favourite game of the year, and was going to take the top slot until a certain other game came out. Addressing the elephant in room right away, I hated the ending. But I was expecting something like that, I think we all were. I won't let the ending ruin the rest of the game though. Not gonna let 1 segment colour everything that came before it. We have to see how the later parts play out to truly see if this ending was trash or not anyway.

It took Square over a decade but they finally got an action RPG battle system that works and feels good to play. This may be my favourite battle system in an RPG period honestly. All four characters are a blast and it only gets better the more time you spend with it. Figuring out the nuances of each character’s skills and how to combine them not only with the skills of the others but how to enhance them with the right Materia set. This makes fights thrilling and satisfying when you finally best whatever was giving you trouble. Tis was the best way to bring 7′s mechanics into the modern landscape while also fixing the BIGGEST issue the OG had. The fact every character feels the same aside from Limit Breaks.

All this on top of graphics that just look fucking stunning, a few glitched out doors aside. Fuck I still feel blown away looking at the characters models (mostly Tifa) and see how god damn pretty everyone is. Also Tifa’s Chinese dress is gift from the Gods and I still haven’t picked my jaw up from the floor after I first saw it.

In my circle of the internet there was a lot of hype for this game. So much so that I ended up buying it to see what all the hubbub was about. I had never played a Streets of Rage game before and my only experience with beat'em ups was playing a LOT of Scott Pilgrim and last year's River City Girls. Turns out Streets of Rage plays quite a bit different and it kicked my ass! So sadly I had to switch to easy to make it through but I still had a fun time with it.

I started playing mostly as Blaze but once Adam hit the scene oooooh fucking boy. I didn’t play anyone else. There's a deceptive amount of content in this game. You can unlock almost every character from the previous games and all of them rocking their original sprites and moves. If I had more of a connection with this series I'm sure I would have gone nuts on unlocking everything. I stopped after my one playthrough and I was happy with that. Always glad to support a long overdue franchise revival.

To properly talk about P5R I think I need to air a lot of my feelings on the original game and the importance it has to me. You see, prior to 2017 I barely played games, only sticking to specific franchises. AKA Pokemon and Mega Man/Mega Man like games. Until 2016 though I still bought a lot of games. Eating up Steam sales and deals I found at pawn shops. This lead to a Steam library and shelf filled with games I've never touched outside of maybe an hour or 2. So in 2016 when I took interest in the newly released Kirby Planet Robobot I made a deal with myself. I could get the game but I HAD to beat it. And I did just that, gaining not just a new fav Kirby game but a new rule for game purchases. If I knew I wouldn't beat a game I was not aloud to buy it. Now what does ANY of this have to do with P5 you may ask? Well... almost everything.

I was immediately interested in P5 when it hit the west in 2017. I loved the 20 or so hours I but into P3 years ago and really liked the P4 anime I had watched around the same time. So of course with all the hype around it I wanted to dive into the series full force with P5. But I knew myself. Putting over 100 hours into a game was beyond me and I had a weird relationship with home console games as I was predominately a handheld gamer. Add in the fact I didn't even have a PS4 and I was convinced P5 would be something I always wanted to play, but never would. So when I went to the mall with a few friends and they showed me that P5 had a PS3 version, I had a dilemma on my hands. I knew I wanted to play it and I now had a way to do so. But doing that would require me to change 2 HUGE hang ups I had with games. Would I being willing to waste 60 bucks with so much working against me? Apparently I was. I immediately started going to town on this game. Making sure I spent no less then 2 hours a day playing NO MATTER WHAT. Which may not seem like a lot but it was to me... at the time.. I also had just moved to my current house, so coming home from my still relatively new job and going straight into P5 was the first real routine I formed during this heavily transitional part of my life.

I of course ended up loving P5 and put 200 hours into it. As such my outlook on gaming was forever changed. Console games were no longer out of reach and I knew I could handle playing monster length game. I started playing way more games then I ever did before and trying out generas I never thought I would play. P5 is the main reason for this and why I'm able to make a post like this. To actually touch on Royal though? It's unarguably the better version of the game and Atlus learned all the right lessons from P4G. The new characters are great and the added section at the end is possibly the best shit Atlus has ever written. I only wish Yoshizawa joined the party sooner so I could play as her more.

The release of this really came out of nowhere huh? Wayforward announced it was being made mid way through 2019, then there was its weird half release on the Apple store... and then suddenly it was out! Very little fanfare for this one. Is that indicative of the games quality? Luckily no. Seven Sirens is a solid addition to the series and follows up Half Genies Hero nicely. The game goes back to Shantae's Metroidvania roots and makes a TON of improvements.

Transformations are now instant instead of having to dance for them (don't worry dancing is still in the game) making the game feel more like Pirates Curse in its fast flow. They also added the Monster Cards which take heavy inspiration from Aria of Sorrow's Soul system. A feature I'm happy to see in any Metroidvania since Aria is one of my all time favourite games. Sadly though the game does not take the best advantage of these improvements.

Over all the game feels kinda empty. The dungeons aren't super exciting to explore nor are they challenging in any way. And the plot is very repetitive, with each dungeon repeating the same beats. Really this game feels more like set up for a better game down the line. The mechanics are all here and Wayforward has a solid art style with the sprites from Half Genie Hero. Hopefully they capitalizes on this for Shantae 6 and we get the best game in the series.

While it may not have been the most thrilling game, Seven Sirens really put me into a Shantae mood. So much so that I went back to play the 2 games in the series I had never touched. This being the first game and Risky's Revenge. Shantae 1 really is a hidden gem in my opinion. Don't get me wrong, it's the definition of jank, but there's a lot of heart to this game. The sprites are great, the soundtrack is good, and the characters are funny... but it's still on the OG Gameboy and that's a massive hindrance for any game. I'm hard pressed to recommend this with how poorly its aged but I think it's better then it looks.

Risky's Revenge on the other hand was a game that shocked me by how little it had to offer. I know this game went through a hellish development and what we got was far from what Wayforward planned to make, but it's hard to imagine a world where this was the technical BEST Shantae game. It's not a bad game by any stretch... just a boring one.

For the record my ranking of the games goes Pirates Curse>Half Genie Hero>Seven Sirens>Original>Risky’s Revenge

Sword and Shield are mediocre games at best. I know, real steaming hot take there. I managed to make my Sword playthrough a lot more fun by not spoiling myself on the new Pokemon designs for the first time since Gen 3. Either way, I enjoyed myself enough that I didn't mind playing more of it with these DLC campaigns. Plus I love the idea of Game Freak switching over to this method as apposed to making a third version, so I wanted to support it.

Klara is a fucking top tier Poke Girl both in design and personality and is probably the highlight of Isle of Armour. GF actually went out of their way to give her multiple expressions to sell her toxic bitch personality and I love every minute of it. She sadly drifts into the background for the second half of the DLC’s story which hurts an already rough section even more. Not more then having to grind Kubfuu all the way to fucking level 70 though! That put a serious hamper on my motivation to finish the story but I pushed through anyway. Having to solo the tower with Kubfuu was at least a fun challenge though, as was the final fight with Mustard. Fuck the Diglett hunt though. Ain’t no one got time for that.

Crown Tundra may be my fav of the 2 though even if there isn't a character as good as Klara in it. The hunt for the legendaries was just pure adventure and I had a fucking blast doing it. The joy I felt when I figured out Registeel’s puzzle put a smile on my face unlike any Pokemon game since I was a kid. The whole Regi stuff was honestly a nice Nostalgia trip to my times with Emerald. The story around Calyrex was enjoyable, even if I still hate its design. Not revealing the horses before release was a good call to as it gave an honest surprise. Having to chase down the Galar forme Birds in the overworld is a great way to evolve the roaming legendaries idea and I hope GF sticks to this. Plus the Galar forme birds are some of the best legendary designs since Gen 5 and I love Chocodos way to fucking much.

Here we are folks, my GotY. I love Panzer Paladin so fucking much. A combination of mechanics from Mega Man, Castlevania, and Blaster Master? Sign me the fuck up! This game is tailored made for me and I knew I had to play it once it started making the rounds on social media. I'll admit though, I was a bit worried when the the first full trailer dropped and showed the weapon mechanics. Breakable weapons that you have to sacrifice for checkpoints and power ups? I'm not sure about that.... Luckily I was being a complete moron and those mechanics are near perfect.

I love the set up of each boss being a mythological creature from different cultures. They didn’t just pull the easy ones either. A lot of these things I learned of for the first time here. I love how Grit controls. Using the upward stab as a double jump and being able to pogo off enemies Shovel Knight style just felt great and satisfying. Flame was limited but it made her sections feel tense. She does more damage then you think she could at first glance. Also the only way to heal Grit being to use pods that only Flame could access was a cool idea.

I am begging you Tribute Games, you have to make more Panzer Paladin games. Slap some new upgrades on Grit and expand what Flame can do and you have an even better sequel on your hands. Also maybe not have so many 'gotcha' moments with enemy placement. That's really my only complaint about the game. Great music, great sprites, giant robots, unique premise, and a reference to Canadian legends. The ultimate self indulgent game for me.

It felt super out of left field for Curse of the Moon to be getting a sequel. The games fucking amazing but it was really just a tie in for the main Bloodstained product. Not something I expect to get a continuation. Either way I was pumped. If this was even half as good as the original then I was in for a great time. Which held true... cuss this legitimately is only half as good as Curse of the Moon. I still like the game, quite a lot actually. I mean how could I not with a fucking Corgi piloting a Death Train Mech.

Something was just missing here that never made this click like the first game. Maybe it was the stage design, maybe the bosses, maybe the fact that it's a bit to long. I'm not sure. All I know is I couldn't bring myself to play all the modes like I did in the original. . Stopping part way in to the one where you can get the first games characters. I want to go back some day... I just don’t know when someday is.

This was an announcement I never saw coming. A Gundam Verses game coming to the west? That hasn't happened in the entire time I've been a Gundam fan. I had played a bit of Full Boost on my old roommates PS3 thanks to him having a Japanese account and I played Force on the Vita a few years ago. But to have the latest version fully translated with open servers? Holy hell that's a dream come true.

Having the open betas every weekend leading up to launch was some much needed fun during this shit hole year. I had a lot of fun just fucking around with different suits and seeing what I could do with 'em. Absolutely trashing two Bael players as the Kapool is a memory I'll keep with me for a long time. Fucking danced on their graves. This gave me some new appreciation for suits like the Baund Doc and Hambrabi, the later becoming a lowkey fav as it was my main.

I've fallen off with the game in the last few months but I definitely want to go back. I hope to start learning the game and take parts in tourneys when cons aren’t death sentences anymore.

It felt like everything in my life was SCREAMING at me to start the Yakuza series. From 2 of my friends playing 0 recently, a youtuber I following live tweeting as he played through the WHOLE series back-to-back, and Yakuza 2 having a run at AGDQ 2020. Plus the constant pleas to play this series you get from following Little Kuriboh on Twitter. I finally broke and picked up 0 in the middle of August. Boooooooooy howdy did I not know what I was getting in to. And no I don't mean the content. I knew Yakuza was a series of wildly conflicting tones between the main story and side quests. What I mean is the length. I legit thought this was gonna be a 20-30 hour game. When i reached hour 30 of my playthrough and realized I wasn't even close to a conclusion, I think I knew I had bitten off more then I was planning. That misstep aside I ended up loving this game and want to play the rest of the series.... I just need to rest up first before I dive into Kiwami 1.

Let's actually talk about the game for a moment here. Kiryu and Majima quickly clicked as likeable characters to me and I cared about their stories. Combat is fun and the multiple styles are all great.... though both the default styles take a while to get there. The mad rush I felt at the end was fantastic and the last bosses are a joy to fight. Only real complaint is the pacing of the side stories. I loved being able to just stumble into various different events while on route to the next plot objective. But this became less common as the game went on and side stories started getting more tucked away. Also hot take here, the host club mingame is more tedious then fun and I like Kiryu’s business stuff as I could do that in the background. I’m excited to dive into Kiwami and probably Kiwami 2 this year... Though I’m not sure when just yet.

Just gonna say it flat out, I think this is better the the 2018 game. The smaller scale helps in this style of game and Miles just naturally has a better move set then Peter. I'm not sure if they actually tightened up the combat system or if they just threw less bullshit enemies at you but fighting feels so much better in this one. Traversal is better too, simply because they changed the button for tricks. In the original you have to hold down 2 face buttons to enter trick mode??? In hindsight that was such a bad call.

Having both the heal and venom powers run off the same meter was a good idea. Making the choice between keeping yourself alive guaranteed or potentially ending a fight quicker/disposing of a problem enemy is super fun. The player having to make small choices like this during combat is what helps it not be brainless. I love all the different venom skills you get. While they all achieve the same thing in stunning opponents, how you achieve that goal is up to you. Do you want to just slug the bastard, throw 'em up in the air, tackle the shit out of them? The choice is yours.

Only real big complaint is certain upgrades being NG+ locked. I know you want to encourage replays, but this is a shitty way to do it I feel. Also can we retire Rhino for the next game. Man has had 2 shitty boss fights now and I need a break. Between this and Spider-Verse, I'm honestly starting to like Miles as Spider-Man more then Peter.

I got this game more on a whim then anything. I was definitely interested when it was first announced for the west. Vanillaware's beautiful art style in a story about giant robots beating the shit out of Kaijus? Sign me the fuck uuuuuu-oh wait it's an RTS? I had never played an RTS's before, mainly due to the sheer concept stressing me out. So I let it fall to the wayside. The game started coming up again though towards the end of the year with GotY on everyone's minds. This revived my interest, especially as what I HAD planned to be playing around that time was... well. Cyberpunk. Don't think I need to say much more. Also I had worried for nothing as the Real Time Strategy was not that Real Time.

This game really lays on the analysis paralysis once you're out of the tutorial. Do you want to fight, do you want to do story, who's story do you want to do, what branch should you follow, how much should you play with this one character? It's very overwhelming at first. I decided to not go ham on just one character and swap around all the time. The twists in this game are equal parts exciting and infuriating. Learning something new always came with the caveat of more questions, or something you knew 'for sure' being disproven. Like when I learned 1 characters was actually 4 separate ones! Anyone that's played knows exactly what I'm talking about.

Natsuno ended up being my fav and not just because of.... obvious reasons. BJ was cute if unfortunately named and her relationship with Mirua was my favourite in the game. Not that there was much competition except for maybe Ogata and Tomi. I ended up really liking the combat but I can see why RTS fans say it's the weakest part. It's far from complex and I had a winning strat by the third or so real fight. Aka spam turrets and have the Gen 1′s gank all the bosses.

One quick thing I want to share was how I beat the boss at the end of Area 2. The one where Inaba is singing. I had Hijiyama use the limit break skill to bum rush the boss right off the hop. I took out half its health in one hit but Hijiyama’s Sentinel was on death’s door. Only thing that saved him was sending in Amaguchi to blow up a bunch of missiles. Hijiyama took it out on his next attack but lost his Sentinel at the same time. It was a real clutch victory and crazy fucking anime.

The best way to really describe Carrion is that it's a fantastic proof of concept. Can you make a game where you play as The Thing? Why yes, yes you can. Carrion just needed a bit more tweaking to really bring this concept home and be the A+ game I know it can be. As it is now the game is a bit empty. The level design is super samey and the lack of a map is fucking brutal at points. I know it would make no sense for a blob monster to have a map but somethings you just have to gameify for convenience. The level design must have done something right as even though I was completely lost I still moved from area to area properly. Hell by the time I actually looked up a map I had 1 more item to get and I learned I was one door away from beating the game.

I love the idea of losing mass as you take damage and gaining more by eating people, but having abilities tied to size was a terrible idea. It just leads to tedium as I have to go and shed myself to the right size, do the puzzle, then of course I'm going to go back and rebuild myself to see if I can do the next segment at full power. Just make it so you can swap between abilities using the d-pad or something. I hope this game gets a sequel just so this sick ass concept can be fully realized.

#games #goty #Final Fantasy #pokemon #spiderman #yakuza #gundam #bloodstained #panzer paladin #shantae #persona #streets of rage #doom #mega man #dragon quest #13 sentinels: aegis rim #carrion

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songtoyou · 4 years

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Chapter One: Move You

Would You Call That Love

Pairing: Chris Evans x Raina Morrison (OC) Rating: PG-13 (Will be 18+ for some chapters)

Description: There was always one person Chris Evans tended to turn to when he was not in a committed relationship, Raina Morrison. He could confide in her about things going on in his life that he did not feel comfortable talking to his family or close friends about. Chris and Raina were able to establish a way to communicate with one another openly but also being respectful of the other’s time and needs. It was the only constant “relationship” he had, but without all the nonsense of trying to build a life together. A “friends with benefits” situation.However, what happens when Chris starts rethinking his “relationship” with Raina and if either is willing to pursue something more?

Chapter Rating: PG

Warnings: Mention of anxiety

Word Count: 2,530

Note: This is the first fic I have written in ages. Everything about it is fiction. Sadly, I do not know Chris Evans and this is just a fictional take on his life. I do not permit this fic to be reposted on other platforms.

Thank you to @southerngracela and @sullyosully for the support. I also want to give a shout out to @royallyprincesslilly for the text divider.

*Updated for grammar edits.

June 2019

The early morning sun was peeking out of the sky, and the air became crisper after a night of pouring rain. It was supposed to be a scorcher day in June, according to the weather reports. That was not something Chris Evans was looking forward to since he would have to be on-set partaking in outdoor scenes wearing sweaters, business suits, and heavy coats for most of the day. Despite the uncomfortableness his job could be at times; it was all worth it in the end. Acting was Chris’s passion, and he was fortunate to do it for a living. Chris knew he was lucky to be where he is at in his career. From the ups and downs to disappointing film projects that either went nowhere or were rejected by critics and moviegoers, it all helped steer Chris to become the actor he is today.

With Captain America’s story arch now complete, Chris understood that it would take a while for audiences and some of his fans not just to see him as Steve Rogers. Taken on Marvel’s top Avenger’s mantle was one of the best decisions he ever made as it took his career to new heights. Yes, Chris had some reservations at first when he was approached for the role. He did not feel confident enough if he could handle the responsibility of playing such an iconic character. Chris was also worried about losing his anonymity. He liked being able to walk down the street with no one recognizing him or asking for a photo and autograph. Now Chris was lucky to make it a few blocks without someone yelling out at him or screaming “Captain America!”, it most definitely did not help ease his anxieties.

“You got that Marvel money saved up. You can live comfortably while pursuing projects that people would not expect you to take. It’s a win-win situation for you,” said Raina, one of Chris’s best friends, when mentioning the project, Defending Jacob.

“You sound like my mom when you say that,” Chris replied.

Raina laughed at that and said, “I take that as a compliment, you know.”

“Good. I meant it as one. You both don’t take shit from anyone. And I know you’ll always have my back as she does.”

Raina and his mom kept telling him to accept the lead role as Andy Barber in Defending Jacob. And how it would not only be beneficial to his career, but also because 1.) the show was filming in Massachusetts so that he would be in his own home every night, and 2.) it was a role he never played before: a father.

Sipping his coffee, Chris stood on the porch of his house as he watched Dodger relieve himself. “Come on, buddy. Let’s get you some breakfast,” Chris waved Dodger over to get inside. The pup was happy to oblige his owner and trotted up the steps into the house.

Chris heard his cellphone buzz just as he put down Dodger’s food bowl. Reaching over the counter to retrieve it, Chris smiled when he saw the name pop up.

Raina: Why didn’t anyone tell me that New York is always hot as balls! I can’t take it!

Chris: I warned you about that, but you didn’t listen to me. What are you doing up so early?

Raina: Couldn’t sleep. Nervous about the preview shows for Moulin Rouge. It is coming up quickly.

Chris: Again, congrats on Moulin Rouge. You got nothing to be nervous about; you are going to be great.

Raina: I’m just worried if people will like the show.

Chris: You and the crew wouldn’t have gotten to Broadway if people weren’t interested in seeing it, especially with you as Satine. This is what you were born to do. Scott, Ma, and I will be there on opening night. Carly and Shanna won’t be able to come but plan to see the show on a girls’ trip to New York later in the summer. I know both are proud of you as well.

Raina: Stop! You are going to make me cry. All of you are so sweet. Seriously, I am forever grateful to you and your amazing family for supporting me all these years.

Chris: Can you believe it has been ten years since we met at that Vanity Fair photoshoot for West Side Story.

Raina: Oh God! Do not remind of that shoot. I was a ball of nerves that day.

Chris: I thought the paramedics were going to need to be called for you.

Raina: Haha. Seriously though, they probably would have if you didn’t help calm me down.

January 2009

“Wait, what is this photoshoot about?” Raina asked her manager, Jerry, who sighed in response.

“Raina, I’ve already told you. It is to celebrate the Broadway revival of West Side Story. The photographer is re-creating scenes from the film version,” explained Jerry.

Now it was Raina’s turn to let out a sigh. Despite being in the music industry since she was 16 years old, the whole idea of photoshoots still did not make her comfortable. Plus, the long hours, the bright lights, and the shoots’ craziness left Raina feeling drained. It was now adding other celebrities to the mix brought on a whole new set of anxieties.

“You don’t have anything to worry about,” Jerry assured Raina and added, “Today’s going to be easy. You don’t have to worry about being front and center this time. You’ll be in the background so that you can relax.”

“If you say so,” Raina retorted with a small smile. She trusted Jerry.

When Raina finally arrived at the photoshoot, she was whisked away to hair and makeup and then onward to change her costume. She had already been introduced to her fellow photo mates, such as Ashley Tisdale and Robert Pattinson. Both were very pleasant and nice.

“I am such a huge fan. I have all of your albums,” Ashley gushed admirably.

“Thank you. That is very sweet of you to say. I loved your album ‘Headstrong,’ by the way. Such great bops,” Raina complimented, and Ashley’s face lit up like a Christmas tree.

As the two made their way to the set, each shared what project they were currently working on until Ashley stopped dead in her tracks.

“What is it?” Raina asked, concerned.

“Chris Evans,” whispered Ashley and went on, “Chris Evans is over there.”

“Yeah, didn’t you know he’d be here? Oh my God, you guys didn’t use to date, did you?”

“Ha! I wish. He is just so cute,” Ashley said dreamily.

Raina just laughed and shook her head, “Yeah, he isn’t bad looking.”

They filmed the dance scene from the movie where Maria and Tony see each other for the first time. Camilla Belle and Ben Barnes were assigned the lead roles for the shoot. Raina had to admit; both looked the part. The photographer, Mark Seliger, gathered everyone around to discuss how the scene would go. He started placing people in their spots with Jennifer Lopez and Rodrigo Santoro in their positions as lead Shark dancers Anita and Bernardo, with Camilla and Ben on their respective sides. Ashley was assigned as a Jet girl dancing with Chris’s character, the Jets leader, Riff.

Raina hid her smile when Ashley shook Chris’s hand and introduced herself. Poor thing looked as if she could faint. Settled in the back, Raina was one of the Sharks. She was perfectly content where she was at standing next to Minka Kelly and Jay Hernandez. The three would even make little side chat here and there.

Overall, the photoshoot was going well. Until the bright lights, the loud music, and the uncomfortable costume started getting to Raina. She felt like she was going to pass out. However, Raina was determined to pull through in fear of being labeled a “diva” or, worse, “difficult” to work with; that was not the kind of press she needed now. Remembering what her mother told her to do when the first signs of an anxiety attack were coming on was to breathe in and out. She did that a couple of times as she closed her eyes when Mark said they were changing film and wanted a couple more shots.

Unsurprisingly, someone else was beginning to get restless during the shoot as well. Chris was not a fan of photoshoots. He always felt awkward and never understood what he was supposed to be doing. He would continuously worry if he were coming off stupid or looking like a fool.

Chris was more cautious of the types of photoshoots he would take part in and made sure to steer clear of the ones wanting him to be viewed as eye-candy merely. He was working hard to make a trajectory in his career from heartthrob to serious actor. However, Chris knew he had more to prove to audiences and critics for them to see past his ‘Not Another Teen Movie’ or ‘Fantastic 4’ roles.

Nevertheless, when he got word about Vanity Fair’s West Side Story photoshoot, Chris was immediately on board. He was a theater kid, after all, thanks to his mother. Similarly, with other shoots, it all starts the same. The photographer talks about the art direction of the shoot and expectations for the day.

During the short breaks on set, Chris looked around to see the other actors and performers. While he knew some of the folks on set, he did not honestly know any of them personally. The only person he was more acquainted with was Camilla, and that was because both filmed the movie Push a year ago.

As Chris’s eyes roamed around the room, they landed on Raina, who was fanning herself with her hands. While others were making small talk, he noticed that Raina took deep breaths and her eyes were closed. She stepped down on the chair she was standing on to take a seat and put her head in her hands.

Chris felt bad. He knew an anxiety attack when he saw one. Slowly making his way over to Raina, he kneeled in front of her.

“Hey, are you okay?” Chris asked in a whisper.

Raina jumped at the sound of his voice. She did not expect anyone to come up to check on how she was doing. She thought she was doing her best to be discreet.

“I don’t know. It’s too hot in here. The lights are hurting my eyes, and it’s hard to breathe,” Raina said, continuing to fan herself.

Instinctively, Chris reached out to hold one of Raina’s shaking hands to help calm her down.

“Have you ever tried the 4-7-8 breathing technique?”

Raina shook her head no and said, “Never heard of that technique.”

“Trust me; it has helped me out a lot. Okay, so you’re going to breathe in for four seconds, hold it for seven seconds, and exhale for eight seconds. Do you want to try it with me? Breathe in 1, 2, 3, 4. Hold 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 and exhale 1, 2, 3, 4 ,5, 6, 7, 8. Very good. Let’s do it again,” Chris calmly instructed Raina.

“I’ll get you some water. Just keeping doing the breathing exercises, okay.”

When Chris returned, he again kneeled in front of Raina and handed her the water cup.

“Thank you,” said Raina as she sipped slowly.

“You’re welcome.”

Raina let out a little chuckle, “I can’t believe I had an anxiety attack. I told Jerry I was worried about this happening. Again, thank you. I appreciate you helping me out,” expressed Raina gratefully.

As Raina continued to sip her water, Chris took the time to look at her. She was attractive, and he could tell she was a little bit younger than him. While this was Chris’s first-time meeting Raina, he had seen her before at other Hollywood functions. Neither having their paths cross until now.

“Okay, folks, let’s get back in your positions!” Mark yelled to get everyone’s attention.

“You going to be okay?” asked Chris as he stood up.

“Yes. I’m going to be fine,” answered Raina, standing up as well.

Chris helped her back up on the chair, and he returned to his spot next to Ashley. It was weird. No one else seemed to notice what went on between the two. It was like for those few short moments, Chris and Raina were in their own world.

Chris kept stealing glances towards Raina for the rest of the shoot. He kept telling himself it was to make sure she was okay, not that he was drawn to her or anything.

‘Don’t go there, Evans. The last thing you need is to be in a relationship, and she doesn’t look like the type to do hookups,’ Chris scolded himself and added, ‘Most likely won’t ever see her again after this day.’

“I am glad that it didn’t take long for us to meet again after that day. We do have Scott and Shanna to thank for that, by the way,” Chris happily reminded Raina.

He decided to call her that morning after their text exchange. He preferred hearing her voice anyways.

“Oh yeah, at my concert in Boston. It was fate. We were destined to be friends.”

“Yep. Even though you are a fan of the New York Mets and Giants fan, I still love ya,” teased Chris.

Raina groaned, “Let us not bring up sports, shall we. It can only get ugly from here. Anyways, I’ll let you go. I gotta start heading out for rehearsals. Talk to you later. Bye,” said Raina.

“Bye, sweetheart. Take care,” replied Chris and ended the call.

He looked over at Dodger, who had finished eating and was now lying in one of his dog beds near the kitchen table. As Chris continued to sip his coffee, he decided to make breakfast and went to the fridge to take some eggs. Once he got everything ready to begin cooking, his mind drifted to Raina. Chris noticed that his mind had been doing that more recently lately.

For Chris, his relationship with Raina was more than just a friendship. She was someone he could confide in about things he was not comfortable bringing up to his family or close childhood friends. Their friendship evolved when both began a “friends with benefits” type of relationship. This would only occur when both were not in committed relationships with other people.

Surprisingly, this arrangement only managed to make them closer friends. The boundaries they agreed upon were put in place not to fracture their friendship. He went into the situation not wanting to build some domesticated life with Raina. However, at times, Chris kept thinking if he could turn his friendship with Raina into something more. Something more than friends, more than sex buddies, but as a life partner. A wife and mother to his children.

‘Stop lying to yourself,’ Chris’s inner voice spoke up, ‘You’re in love with Raina. Just admit it!’

Nevertheless, Chris could not admit to himself. He was not ready to deal with those feelings for one of his closest friends.

Not yet, at least.

#chris evans #chris evans x ofc #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x original female character #chris evans x oc

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bluerosesburnblue · 4 years

Text

Nothing upsets me more than a legitimately good story being ruined by “extra” content. I’ve already complained at length about Pokemon Ultra Sun and Ultra Moon’s story changes over the original games so now it’s The World Ends With You: Final Remix’s “A New Day’s” turn because CHRIST

I’m writing this as I come across points while watching a playthrough, so:

God, Coco is the single most insufferable being. “totez hilar” just dated this content so baaaad, and I’d even say it was dated language when Final Remix came out. No other character abuses modern slang as their entire character. Like, slang is used but not as a substitute for personality. Beat speaks in a very casual, urban style but it never ends up being detrimental to his character as a bit of a punk with a “perfect little sister” that he wasn’t as naturally smart as, so he just gave up on trying and ended up being a bit of an aggressive slacker. Heck, he tones it down a bit for emotional moments, too. Coco, though, comes across like her ultra-modern “cutesy” text message slang is supposed to be her personality, and even when it’s revealed that she’s the villain of the episode you just can’t take her seriously through the “like, ohmigosh, I can’t believe you’re ruining my plaaaaaans” bullshit. What does she have going for her if you rewrite all of her lines without that speaking style? She’s just a generic manipulative brat

Frankly I also just disagree with the entire premise of A New Day and the plot threads it sets up for a potential sequel, i.e. “having Neku and Beat run through a game again as a trap to get Neku into yet another game in a possible sequel.” TWEWY is a complete experience and had been for at least a decade. Literally every character had a complete arc. The worldbuilding was rich enough that they had more than enough to come up with a sequel set in the same world, but in an entirely different town with an entirely new cast and, heck, even entirely new rules for the Game that would’ve expanded upon the world of the games without taking away from the characters whose time in the Underground was already done

But, noooooooo, we’ve gotta bring Neku back. Can’t have a game without Neku they literally SAY THAT (”The Game, like, literally can’t go on without Neku.”). And let’s bring Minamimoto back, too, as a good guy! The fans loved him! This doesn’t come across as pandering at all!

Just... you have the girl with the red headphones designed! Make the sequel set in Shinjuku with her as the main character! (Hell, I don’t think I would have even minded Minamimoto coming back for that because there was enough leeway in the base TWEWY for him to have survived his encounter with Josh, just leave Neku out of it). This is the most infuriating part because it actually takes away from Neku’s story. The entire GAME was a test of character to see if even the worst, most closed off person could learn empathy and respect and Neku DID. And in return, that sparked a change in Josh. His story is done. Coco using Neku, though, has nothing to do with him as a character and everything to do with him being the face of the game and it shows

And why the hell is Neku so trusting of Coco anyway? I get that he opened up over the course of TWEWY, that was kind of the point. But you come back to life, everything’s fine, and then suddenly you’re in a death game again and so is one of your best friends, like, he should be WAY more concerned and suspicious. But one little Reaper gives him the sad eyes and he just caves instantly like “fine, come along.” Even when Neku grew to like some of the Reapers, like Uzuki and Kariya, it was still far more of a rival-like respect. He knew damn well that it was their job to see him gone and while he accepted their help when they gave it and helped them when their lives were in danger (possibly, up to player choice), they weren’t buddy-buddy with each other, knowing that as soon as the immediate danger to them had passed they’d be on opposite sides again. And these are the Reapers he’s closest to, even at the end of the game. And then all of a sudden Coco goes “but I’m a wittle wost baby weaper” and Neku’s response is, “well, shit, welcome to the team.” WHAT

I hate using the term “Mary Sue” but Coco is absolutely a Mary Sue in its original meaning. The plot bends over backwards to accommodate her at the expense of the main characters’ personalities or reason, all while giving her a clothing style incongruous with everyone else’s meant to stand out and make her look special and not having her face any repercussions for her actions (so far which is, again, another issue with the very premise of A New Day since that’s exactly how things will end off if TWEWY doesn’t get a sequel, the possibility of which is not a guarantee AT ALL)

Shiki and Rhyme start saying blatantly false things about themselves and handwaving it away with “ohhh, that must have been our new Entry Fee! Just the exact same ones as the first time again!” and only BEAT is suspicious and NEITHER OF THEM are suspicious of Coco, the only non-generic Reaper they’ve met so far. Christ, I appreciate Beat being attentive with matters of his sister because that’s in-character but NEKU was always the more paranoid AND observant one yet all he thinks about is “gee, I’m sure having weird visions today, huh?”

And then Coco starts BLATANTLY gaslighting them about Kariya and Uzuki’s personalities and they’re STILL not suspicious of her like ughhhhhhhhhhh. Nekuuuuuuu you LIVED THROUGH JOSH WEEK 2, you have BEEN IN A SITUATION where the mastermind partnered up with you to divert your suspicion and keep an eye on you how are you less suspicious of this brat than Beat is???

And why are none of the characters bringing up the fact that you have to be DEAD to be in the Game??? You all spent three weeks of hell to claw your way back to life, how are you not more upset about what seems like you all dying again, basically immediately after you just got brought back? And I know the Shiki and Rhyme in A New Day are illusions, but Neku and Beat AREN’T. Nobody even comments on the implication that they’re dead again and what that means!

I can’t believe they made new expressions for the fake Josh’s changed personality but still refuse to make anything for Shiki’s true appearance

Hell, there’s enough lore with Josh that you could make an entire prequel about him becoming the Composer instead of this mess and, you know, EXPAND on someone’s character and what led to him being so disillusioned with Shibuya as the Composer instead of employing the Happy Ending Rewrite on Neku and then gutting his personality to make Coco the focus. I’d LOVE a Josh prequel with competent writing. Kingdom Hearts made the Xehanort prequel and hooked me in a single chapter with expanded worldbuilding and interesting ties with Xehanort’s character to friends that humanize him, do the same for Yoshiya “Joshua” Kiryu!

Pfffffff hire me and let me make the dream TWEWY trilogy: Joshua prequel > TWEWY sans A New Day > sequel set in Shinjuku starring Red Headphones Girl with Occasional Josh and Hanekoma Interaction

It is so unnecessarily cruel to make Beat relive Rhyme’s erasure and subject Neku to believing that Shiki was erased as well, and yet they do NOTHING with it except have it be cheap tension for five minutes. The characters basically say “wow, I’m so sad!” and then IMMEDIATELY move on to “OMG is Neku seeing the fuuuuuture?” Your LITTLE SISTER and FIRST REAL FRIEND IN YEARS just seemingly died permanently! When Rhyme was erased the first time it took Neku one and a half in-game days to even talk about it because he was so upset, and from then on he was focused on avenging her/bringing her back. Shiki was his entry fee in Week 2 and that made him hyper paranoid the whole time! WHY ARE WE JUST GLOSSING OVER THIS especially since they made SUCH a big deal about how they just finally started believing that the fakes were real (after a whole TWO conversations)

And then at the end they say that they’re inside Coco’s Noise that is SO BIG that it has an ALTERNATE DIMENSION INSIDE IT and Hanekoma’s like “I’ve never met a Reaper POWERFUL enough to make a Noise like this. Wow, Coco, you’re so POWERFUL that even I, an Angel, am impressed!” This. Coming from the guy who specifically chose Minamimoto as his failsafe to kill the Composer should the Game go wrong because a Taboo Minamimoto, heavily refined using forbidden methods, would be strong enough to defeat THE COMPOSER. And he’s now going on about how Coco’s the strongest Reaper ever, basically admitting that she’s probably stronger than the Composer of Shibuya. SURE. BECAUSE COCO WASN’T BAD ENOUGH ALREADY SHE HAS TO BE THE STRONGEST REAPER EVER, TOO

And then it just ends with Josh and Hanekoma exposition dumping about how Shinjuku got erased as Noise entered the RG (WHAT?), Neku’s visions were probably caused by the red headphones girl who’s super special (who???), and Coco’s just so special powerful (why...), but it’s not their problem so fuck it. Oh, and also Josh doesn’t care about Neku anymore, despite that being the whole point of TWEWY. Yeah, the guy who flew off all upset when Hanekoma asked him if he wanted to hang out with his friends at the end of the game. Uh huh. Even if he’s lying, why even put that THERE instead of saving it for the sequel?

And then Coco just... revives Minamimoto. Even though, oh, right, the Taboo Refinery stuff was so precise that the only reason Minamimoto came back the first time was because Hanekoma, THE PRODUCER AND AN ANGEL, set it up for him. But I guess Coco’s just soooooo super powerful and knows FORBIDDEN HIGHER PLANE KNOWLEDGE and can just do whateeeeeever she wants. Not like Hanekoma was so paranoid about someone finding out what he did for Minamimoto that he went into hiding, certain that he’d be reported to the higher Angels and destroyed

A New Day is so painfully shallow from a writing experience. It’s a poor continuation off of the solid, complete TWEWY story experience that just doesn’t have a handle on Neku’s character, turning him into this bland vision machine with no emotional connection to anyone. The way that it expands the worldbuilding with “Inversion” does one thing that I HATE, which is taking an emotion-and-character driven story and turning it into a generic “end of the world” scenario, “raising the stakes” in a way that divorces it from what made it memorable in the first place. If Kitaniji directly effecting the RG during the main Game’s plot was the point where he crossed the line in-universe, then that loses its special nature and impact if you then go “oh, btw, Noise can destroy the RG city if you let them”

And then there’s the absolute black hole of a character that is Coco Atarashi. She wasn’t designed to fit into the world of the game, she was designed to stand out. On its own that’s not a bad thing, especially given the themes of the game that revolve around owning your true self and baring it to the world, but then you combine it with no personality beyond being a manipulative brat obsessed with the events of TWEWY, extremely lazy text message slang dressing up her dialogue to make it stand out, the way that Neku and Beat’s personalities change to accommodate her presence just to shoehorn her in and then have a cheap “omg she was bad” twist, and then dumping powers on par with Josh and Hanekoma on her and there is NO saving her character

The only good part of A New Day is “Wake Up.” And even then, there’s better TWEWY songs, I just like the vaguely Kingdom Hearts Dream Drop Distance vibes it has in parts

#the world ends with you #the world ends with you spoilers #liz's shenanigans #the playthrough i was watching to refresh myself on twewy's story hit a new day and my blood pressure spiked instantly #i have never lost interest in a sequel quite as fast as i did this #i just... how do you fuck up this bad???

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thejollyroger-writer · 4 years

Text

Mixed-Up Metaphors, Messed-Up Makeup

a/n: this is the post-revival Gilmore Girls AU that nobody asked me to write (except Devon), written specifically for her birthday. so, @shireness-says, this is for you. happy birthday, friend.

Summary: Rory is pregnant, lost, and looking for something deeper to tie her to Storybrooke. (surprise: it’s Jess Mariano)

Rated G // 7K // also on ao3

(Thanks to @hollyethecurious and @let-it-raines for helping me figure this out and giving me someone to chat with about writing it, since I obviously couldn’t go to Devon this time)

WEEK TEN

Jess Mariano never asks anything of her. Some days, Rory can swear that he’s the only person who wants nothing from her. And it is simply for this reason that she invites him to sit with her in her office as many days as he’s allowed, after meeting him for breakfast at Luke’s. Because, unlike everyone else in Stars’ Hollow, Jess seems content sitting in the corner of her office, reading his next book or tapping away on his laptop, working on his own novel, or on something else.

Sometimes, when she knows she is going to have a particularly boring day, she asks him to come with her. Usually, she does not, and it is just another unspoken agreement for him to show up a few hours after breakfast, toting a to-go bag and a cup of coffee.

Usually, they sit in almost-silence, one of them playing some music softly in the background, every once in a while asking a question about word choice or the order of a sentence, or Jess reading a sentence or a section from that day’s selection.

And then, the morning sickness starts. Usually, she is able to control it before she leaves to meet him for breakfast, hoping that he doesn’t realize her change in appetite.

(He does. He just doesn’t say anything.)

It’s not like she doesn’t want to tell him. Hell, there is the slight possibility that the baby is his anyway, after one of the few nights they spent together when she came back to Stars’ Hollow, nights that they have wordlessly decided to completely ignore but that sometimes still happen when she finds herself in his arms late at night, sometimes even forgetting how she got there.

She just… doesn’t know how to tell him. Because what if it’s not his, which is just as likely? It’s not like she needs anything from him, expects anything from him, even if it is his. Though, she knows deep down, that no matter what the case is, if she told him that she wanted him to be a part of this child’s life — which she does — he would do it.

That’s part of the reason she lo —

She cares about him so much.

These are the thoughts swirling through her already-chaotic mind when she feels her stomach begin to churn, a feeling that she can sometimes control.

This does not seem to be one of those times.

Jess, of course, notices the change in her almost immediately — the way she is breathing, the redness of her face, her straighter posture, the moments of fear that pass through her eyes when she fears she may not be able to control it.

“Are you alright?” he asks, finally breaking the thick silence that has fallen around her. In her chest, her heart pounds wildly, hard enough for her to feel it in her stomach, and all she can do before pushing herself out of the office chair and crossing the room, hoping to at least make it into the bathroom, is shake her head, trying to combat the tears that always come with her failing gag reflex.

Shit.

“Do you want my help?” he calls, and though she did not hear the pounding of his boots against the fake hardwood, he sounds much closer to the cracked bathroom door than his usual perch.

“No!”

(Didn’t people always say that they loved being pregnant? How is that the case when she has been starting every morning by losing the contents of her stomach? When she has felt nauseous non-stop for the last eight weeks? She thought this was supposed to be fun.)

Her bathroom stay is short-lived, at least. (On the bright side of getting sick all the time is her stomach’s — the baby’s — ability to pick and choose what it wants to keep and what it wants to get rid of, and this morning is only seems angry about the apple she ate on her way over here.

Ironic.)

She gives herself another minute to calm down, to splash cold water on her hands and her face and try to get her heart rate back to a normal human’s number. She’s so overwhelmed by making herself feel better that she almost forgets that he’s waiting for her outside the door, silent and patient and — why does he have to be like that?

Slowly — oh my god, so slowly — she opens the door to the bathroom, as if putting off the action will somehow stop the conversation she knows she is about to have. (Maybe if I spend enough time in the bathroom, he’ll just… leave, she tells herself, but even as she has the thought, she shakes her head with the ridiculousness of it.)

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. She can’t even bring herself to look at him, putting all of her attention instead on her feet as they cross the worn-down floor back to her desk, left, right, left, right.

And then… he still doesn’t say anything. He sits, silently, in his chair, and she can feel that his eyes never leave hers. But he says nothing, which manages to drive her absolutely insane, stuck with only her own thoughts and the pounding of her heart and that stupid rattling pipe in the corner, the cars on the street outside, the chattering of passerby, her blood rushing through her ears, that damn pipe —

“I’m pregnant,” she says finally, the words practically exploding out of her.

Silently, he nods, but she doesn’t miss the slight widening of his eyes, the gentle parting of his lips.

She can swear that her heart actually stops beating. What if this is too much for him? What if I’ve just totally screwed up absolutely everything, and he’s going to pack up his things and leave, leave the office and leave Stars’ Hollow and never talk to me again—

“Okay.” She almost doesn’t catch the word, barely more than a breath on his lips, but it is the brightness of his eyes that really catches her attention, suddenly, all at once. “Are you okay? What can I do to help?”

She is useless against the way her jaw falls slack. “What?”

He narrows his eyes at her, as if he doesn’t understand her confusion.

“I mean, you’re sick, right? Is there anything I can do? Do you need some water, something to eat? Do you have a stash of Saltines somewhere?”

She’s…

Speechless. Shocked. In awe. Dumbstruck. Without words.

Alright, so maybe with words. But certainly not the right ones.

He’s… has he always been like this? Has he always cared so much?

She knows the answer, though she also knows that she’s been trying to avoid the same knowledge for almost as long as she’s been back in Stars’ Hollow. Honestly, (though, really, she hates being honest with herself), it shouldn’t surprise her as much as it does, his heartwarming, caring demeanor, his immediate jump to help her, to be there for her.

If there wasn’t a large wooden desk between them — if she even had the energy to jump up in the first place — she may have even found herself quickly crossing the room to kiss him. Maybe.

For now, though, all she does is smile, reaching down to open the bottom drawer of her desk, where she pulls a water bottle and a pack of saltines from.

He smiles back — warm, genuine, glad that she seems to be content at the moment. “Good,” he says, his attention moving back towards the book resting in his lap. “Let me know if you need my help.”

It’s a loaded statement, and even as his eyes begin moving across the words on the page, Rory sits in her chair watching him, slowly eating a few saltines from the open pack. Does he know just how much that one question could mean? How many of those meanings did he actually mean? Is she overthinking this?

Of course she’s overthinking this, and she knows that — and something about the shadow of a smirk that grows on his lips, his eyes still on the book as he turns the page, makes her pretty sure that he knows she’s overthinking it, too.

WEEK 16

She’s been trying to ask Jess for help for two weeks now, since she decided this is something she wants to do. She just… doesn’t know how. Will he even want to do it? Will he be mad at her because she wants to do it?

What will her mother think?

What will Logan think?

She’s taken to spending most nights with Jess in the apartment above Luke’s instead of back in her old bedroom, constantly under the watchful eyes of both Lorelai and Luke. Jess asking her if she’s eaten today is caring, done in a much less agitated tone, while all she gets at home is nagging and food shoved in her direction.

“It’s almost as if your mother has forgotten what it’s like to be pregnant,” Jess tells her very helpfully one night after she came to the apartment with her laptop, her pajamas, and a brown paper bag full of vegetables that she knows her mother never ate while pregnant.

“Well, I need her to remember,” Rory had huffed, falling backwards onto the couch, her hands on her stomach — a poise she’s found herself in more often lately, with the small human growing inside her just starting to make itself more obvious.

At the moment, Jess has settled in at his spot at the counter, tossing together some sort of chicken stir-fry with ingredients that he found in the back of his freezer and the pantry. Rory never would have guessed just how much he liked to cook, especially wouldn’t have assumed that he’s so good at it — but she supposes it’s also something she’s never been able to take for granted, since everyone knows Lorelai is certainly no master chef.

Can you help me with something? The words are on the tip of her tongue, begging to be released as she watches him expertly cut the chicken breasts into strips, a few strands of his now-longer hair falling away from his forehead.

(She’s not sure how she feels about his hair, though she does appreciate the fact that he looks older, unsure of whether it’s because of the hair or the stubble or just his overall older-feeling aura. She hasn’t mentioned anything to him — it’s certainly not her place, as his…

What are they, anyway? On the nights when her loneliness has been the strongest, she’s spent the night sharing his bed with him, not complaining when he rolled towards her in the middle of the night, wrapped his arm around her stomach, his breath on her back. But they haven’t discussed it, Rory not even sure that she wants to. Would it ruin the content feeling that washes over her when she walks into the apartment, when he smiles at her from across the room, when she secretly wakes when he does, much earlier than she needs to in order to help open the restaurant, and feels the hitching of his breath when he realizes that he has once again unconsciously wrapped himself around her?)

“It’s hard to concentrate when you’re staring a hole through my head,” he says finally, not even raising his eyes from the cutting board as he breaks the almost-silence of the apartment.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, but he just smiles.

“Obviously you’re thinking about something.”

It’s not a question, she can tell that much. He’s not really asking her to divulge whatever she is obviously thinking about, but she takes it as an invitation nonetheless.

“I think I need to tell Logan.”

This makes him stop working, set the knife down on the cutting board, turn his eyes up to meet hers. “Yeah?”

She just nods.

“If that’s what you want to do, I’m not going to talk you out of it.”

“He’s going to want to know if it’s his.”

Just as the words pass through her lips, she realizes that this very subject is something they haven’t discussed yet. Jess takes a deep breath, stepping away from the counter. For a moment, Rory fears the worst, that he is going to leave her with her spiraling thoughts — but instead he washes his hands in the sink before walking to her, reaching out to take her hands. His are cold, a side effect from the chicken that the hot water didn’t manage to wash away entirely, but Rory doesn’t really care — just the feel of them in hers warms her from the inside out.

“He has a right to know that,” he says, trying not to let his own disappointment reach his face, Rory can tell somehow.

“Do you want to know?” The question falls from her lips without her permission, but once it’s out, she almost feels a sense of relief.

He squeezes her hands. “For me, knowing changes nothing. I’m here for you, for this one, for as long as you’ll let me, but the genetic makeup means nothing in relation to how I feel about you. You have to know that.”

“He’s going to make me find out.”

Now, it’s not affection that passes across Jess’ face, but something much darker. “Rory, he can’t make you do anything. If his desire to have anything to do with this kid’s life is dependent upon a genetic test and not—”

“I kind of want to know, though,” she admits to someone beside herself for the first time.

Jess nods. “If that’s what you want, then I’m not going to stop you. Make the appointment, I’ll go with you.”

WEEK 20

“Now what do we do?” Rory asks, holding the paper loosely between her fingers.

“It’s up to you, you know that,” he says, his voice as gentle as the hand placed on her lower back. She knows that he said he won’t be upset either way, knows that it doesn’t change the way he feels, but she can tell that he’s at least a little let down.

“We decided that if it confirmed Logan was the father, I would tell him.”

“It’s your decision, Rory,” he says, his voice soft, caring — more than he has the right to be. “Seeing the results of the test don’t change the fact that it’s still completely up to you.”

I love you, she almost says. The words tickle the tip of her tongue, which she quickly clamps between her teeth, almost hard enough to draw blood. It’s not the first time she’s had the thought, but it is the closest she has come to actually speaking the words.

It doesn’t help that they’re still avoiding the subject of what exactly they want from each other. Okay, maybe avoiding isn’t the right word, because Rory is pretty sure that he’s not doing it on purpose. What she thinks he’s doing instead is giving her space, time to think, not pushing her by asking what she can only hope spends as much time on his mind as it does on hers — but it’s also, simultaneously, driving her absolutely insane. He wants to be with her, he’s made that obvious enough more times than she can count — has been doing so for almost as long as she’s known him — but has always let her take the lead, always made sure that she was the first one to make the move.

She just… doesn’t know how to do it. She does know that this moment specifically is not the time for it.

“He still deserves to know.”

Jess just nods. Takes half a step back from her, his hand still ghosting against her back, so light that she would forget it was there if not for the intense heat that he is always letting off.

“Then let’s call him.”

The words set a weight on her shoulders that she doesn’t know what to do with, make her back hurt a little more than it already has been, somehow.

“I need—” she says, her breath suddenly much harder to catch than moments before. “I need to sit down,” she manages, maneuvering through the kitchen and into the living room before plopping herself down on the couch.

“Do you want some water?”

She just nods, hoping that he is paying enough attention to catch it. Either he does, or he just gets her a glass anyway, appearing beside her what feels like moments later with it in his hand.

I love you, she almost says again, but what really comes out of her mouth is, “I can’t do this.”

“Of course you can,” he responds, resting his hand on her knee — again, gently, with more care than he needs to, and, again, somehow radiating heat, even with her own body heating with her inability to catch her breath.

“No. No. What if he— what if he refuses to stay out of it? What if he insists on coming here, on leaving his pretty little princess fiance and his high class life and moves to Stars Hollow just to spite me, just because he insists he deserves to be around when it’s very literally the very last thing I want?”

“Rory, listen to what you’re saying. This is Logan we’re talking about, a man who never compromised anything for anyone—”

“But he’s changed since you last—”

“Changed enough to leave behind everything he knows, his entire holier-than-thou world, to move to this shitty little town?”

“Jess!”

“I’m serious! When was the last time he has ever sacrificed anything for anyone, done something for anyone other than himself?”

She takes a breath, coming slightly easier now, and releases it slowly. Then another.

“He has no right to be here with you in the first place, Rory,” Jess says finally. “He wouldn’t change his plans for you in college and wouldn’t leave his fiance for you now. He may fight to see this kid every once in a while, to at least not be barred completely from its life, but in every other sense of the word, it’s ours, okay?”

This is the first time he’s said that. Said anything even remotely like that. Every other time it’s been hers — her baby, her decision, her comfort. It may not be the words she’s been wanting to say, the questions that have been keeping her up at night, even when she’s wrapped in his arms, but it’s something. And even that feels huge.

Nodding, she takes another breath and pulls her cell phone out of her back pocket. She places her other hand on top of his, still resting on her knee. “Let’s do this.”

He answers on the second ring, moments after Rory realizes both that time zones are a thing and that she has absolutely no idea which one he’s in.

“Rory?” He has the audacity to almost sound excited to hear from her.

“Hey.” For a moment, it’s all she can muster, thinking about just hanging up instead of going through with the rest of it. Her fear must be painted across her face, because when she turns to Jess, he just ticks one side of his lips up in a smile, squeezing her knee gently.

“Is everything okay?” Logan asks, at the same moment Rory manages, “How are you? Did I wake you up?”

“No, no,” he says, “I’m in New York right now, weirdly enough, and I was--I’m gonna be honest with you, I was just thinking about you.”

“Oh.”

“Are you okay?” he says again, after a beat passes.

“Well, no. I mean, yeah, but— listen, Logan, can you—can you just let me talk for a minute? Please?”

“Uh, yeah. O-okay, sure.”

She sighs, loudly, through her teeth, which she’s sure Logan heard on the other end of the line. She doesn’t really care.

“I’m pregnant. Five months. There’s a chance that it wasn’t yours, that it— happened after I got home, but we did all the tests and stuff and it — well, it is, it’s yours, and I just felt like you had the right to know, even though I don’t want or expect or— whatever — anything from you. I’m staying here, with—” somehow, her brain makes the snap decision not to mention Jess. “In Stars Hollow, at home with my family where I’m comfortable, and you don’t — there’s nothing you have to do, I don’t even — you don’t even have to come meet it when it’s born, but I just thought that you should know.”

Silence. Long, devastating, heart-pounding silence.

When he finally speaks, it’s quiet, though Rory has the feeling that it’s to hide the words from someone around him and not because he’s been rendered speechless: “And you don’t… want to be with me?”

“God, Logan, seriously?” She half-wishes he could see the way she rolls her eyes at his question. Maybe he can even hear it in her voice. Jess lets out a breathy laugh. “You’ve spent years not choosing me, not even believing that I could be your first choice, you’ve hurt me more times than I could count, have chosen yourself and others over me since we were young, and you think this is suddenly going to erase all of that? Finally, I’m doing something that makes me happy, doing something for myself, I’m with someone who accepts my decisions and wants what’s best for me, for the baby, and not for himself — do you even know how to do that?”

Silence. Again.

“You’re with somebody else?”

She sighs. That’s the part he’s caught up on? She wants to be surprised. But she can’t. “Yes.”

“If you hadn’t done the tests, hadn’t decided to figure out if it was — would you still have called me?”

“No.”

Silence.

“How did you expect me to respond?”

“I told you, Logan, I’ve learned not to expect anything from you. We just felt like you had the right to know.”

“Mm-hmm,” he hums, enough anger behind the sound that Rory can feel it in her bloodstream. “And who is we? Do I have the right to know who will be raising my child?”

She expected a few things from this phone call. She expected to be overwhelmed. She expected Logan to ask her a few questions. She even half-expected to get upset with him. But what she didn’t expect was anger.

“You know what? No, I really don’t have to tell you that, do I? I really don’t have to tell you anything, actually. I’ll make sure someone contacts you when it’s born, because you have the right to know that, I guess, but until then? Goodbye, Logan.”

It’s one of those moments that she wishes phones still had the ability to slam, because angrily pressing the little red “end call” button doesn’t adequately portray just how angry she is at him. Tossing the phone onto the couch next to her makes her feel a little better, though not quite enough.

“See,” Jess says after a moment, taking his hand off her knee just to wrap his arm around her shoulder. “I knew you had it in you.”

It’s as if the phone call has awakened some sense of fearlessness in her, and between the adrenaline rush and her new-found freedom, she feels unstoppable:

“Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

Watching the collection of expressions that pass across his face manages to pull a smile to Rory’s face.

The stuttering that follows, even moreso.

“I just — I wanted you — to make sure — I didn’t want—”

“Jess,” she says, turning her shoulders to face him more head-on, and his words stop when she places her hand against his cheek. “Please, just stop talking.”

First, he smiles, stretching the arm he has laying across her shoulder to run his thumb across her cheek. And then, finally, he does it. Softly, sweetly, gently — everything he has proven himself to be over the past few months. Everything Rory needed him to be. Everything.

WEEK 21

“So, I, uh, talked to Logan a few days ago,” Rory says, stirring the sugar into the cup of (decaf) coffee sitting on the table in front of her.

Lorelai almost loses the sip that is in her mouth, covering her face with the back of her hand, eyes wide. “Rory! You can’t just drop a line like that on someone with a mouth full of coffee.”

Rory lets out her own laugh, taking another bite from her plate of chocolate chip pancakes. “Sorry! But look, I— I just thought you should know. Man, what was the last thing I updated you on? Did I tell you that we decided to do the paternity test?”

“Uh, no!” she says, her eyes growing wider still. “How did you not tell me this?”

She shrugs. “I mean, I probably decided to wait until we got the results to tell you, I guess, so now—”

“Wait, wait, let me guess,” she says, holding her hand up between them. Rory rolls her eyes, but gestures for her mother to continue. “If you had to call Logan, then I’m assuming that means Jess is not the father.”

Rory sighs, and, taking another bite of her pancakes, nods. “Bingo.”

“And how does Jess feel about all of this?”

Heat rushes to her cheeks, but even that doesn’t stop the smile from forming on her lips.

Her suddenly-trembling lips.

“He says it doesn’t change anything,” she says, trying to swallow the lump that’s risen up her throat. “That he still, you know, wants to be with me, wants to help raise the baby, but, I mean, it had to have at least brought his spirits down a little.”

“It’s a true sign of his feelings, though,” she says, as if it’s not something Rory’s been obsessing over since…

Since when? Since they got the test results in the mail?

Since they decided to get the test done in the first place?

Since she told him she was pregnant in the first place?

She knows that all of these are wrong, though. She knows that she has been obsessing over Jess’ feelings since the first time she saw him when she came back to Stars’ Hollow.

“Can we change the subject? Please?” she asks, just in time to hear the door at the back of the restaurant open. By now, it’s a sound that she would know anywhere, followed by the knowing pound of Jess’ boots against the hardwood floors.

“Your grandmother wants to throw you a baby shower,” Lorelai says, trying her best to ignore the way Rory’s eyes follow Jess through the restaurant, but the way she smiles as he approaches the table, as he presses his lips against her forehead, still pulls a smile to her face.

“Did you hear that, Jess?” Rory asks. “Mrs. Emily Gilmore is going to throw us a baby shower.”

“When?”

Lorelai finds herself surprised by his lack of a sarcastic comment — though, she supposes, maybe he has grown up a bit.

“That’s what we were about to figure out, actually.”

“Well, she wants to have it on a Sunday, she says it’s more proper that way.”

“Is she going to let us be in charge of the guest list, or is she going to want to invite her friends?”

“She seemed to sound like she wanted you to make all the decisions, maybe let her feel like she’s in charge of a few things, and she’ll foot the bill.”

“Good ol’ Emily Gilmore,” Rory mumbles, taking a sip of her coffee. “But yeah, that sounds — I can do that, I’ll give her a call later.”

Between Emily’s other proper Sunday events and the few that Jess has to spend in video calls with the publishing company — the agreement he was able to bring them to after the weekends on the road became too much for him (for Rory, really) — they decide on a Sunday two months down the road, Emily being surprisingly lenient with Rory’s wanting to have it at the Dragonfly Inn, and to have it catered by Sookie.

(“Whatever you want, dear, it’s your baby shower,” she kept saying, though Rory could almost hear the passive-aggressive smile that she knows was spread across her face.)

WEEK 24

“Would it be weird if I read to him?” Jess asks one night, Rory’s head in his lap as they both type away on their laptops, Jess’ current favorite indie British band softly playing from the speakers of his.

Instead of answering the question, Rory asks one of her own: “What makes you so sure it’s a him?”

He shrugs, pausing his work to place his hand on Rory’s ever-growing stomach. “I just have a feeling, you know?” he says, spreading his fingers wide.

Rory can’t help but smile.

“I mean, I don’t think it would be weird at all. I’m pretty sure that’s even one of those things that — I don’t know — that you’re supposed to do?”

“But, I’m talking about, like, Ginsberg. Plath. Frost. Short stories from the New Yorker. Atwood.”

“You can’t just read, you know, normal baby things, huh?”

“All we’re going to be able to do once they understand what we’re reading is read nursery rhymes and Dr. Seuss. Let me enjoy something exciting while I still have the time.”

“What, you’re not a big fan of Fox in Socks? What about Guess How Much I Love You? The Very Hungry Caterpillar?”

“Rory, come on, I’m serious.”

“Yeah, me, too!”

For a moment, they just stare at each other. I love you, she thinks again, less surprising every time she tastes the words on the tip of her tongue, but she’s still biting them back. Jess has let her take the lead for everything else, she wants to give him this one. Instead, she decides on, “Oh, my god, you’re impossible.” He smiles first, though, and she is quick to return it. “But fine, yes, okay. If the thing you want the most is to start introducing this baby to American beat poets early, then I suppose I won’t stop you.”

They start with Frost — “He still rhymes, you know,” Rory teases him as he pages through his worn copy of Mountain Interval to find what he’s looking for — but Jess has only made it through the first few lines of “Birches” before Rory finds herself nodding off, both exhausted and lulled by Jess’ reading voice:

“When I see birches bend to left and right

Across the lines of straighter darker trees,

I like to think some boy's been swinging them.

But swinging doesn't bend them down to stay

As ice-storms do. Often you must have seen them

Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning

After a rain. They click upon themselves

As the breeze rises, and turn many-colored

As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel.”

But even with Rory’s eyes closing, with her quickly approaching unconsciousness, he doesn’t stop. He even goes back to his work for a while after the second poem, letting her sleep soundly next to him on the couch until he finds himself unable to keep his eyes open, and he rouses her only to move her to the bed.

After a week of Frost, next comes is Plath: “The Moon and the Yew Tree,” “Letter in November,” “The Munich Mannequins.” Unlike Frost, though, Plath does not put Rory to sleep.

For a few days, he reads pieces of a story from the New Yorker called “The Largesse of the Sea Maiden” — a piece that he was, ironically, supposed to write a review for but hadn’t yet found the time to focus on enough. Rory doesn’t particularly like it, but she does feel the little person inside her more often when Jess reads, though it’s not to a point where he can feel it yet, even with his and pressed against the taut skin of her stomach.

And then, finally, Rory lets him start Ginsberg. “A Supermarket in California” — “What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whitman, for I walked down the streets under the trees with a headache self-conscious looking at the full moon.” Somehow, it just works so beautifully with his voice, really makes her feel Ginsberg in a way she never had before. In a way she never really needed to, honestly, but one that she certainly isn’t upset about.

“Cia Dope Calypso”: “In nineteen hundred forty-nine / China was won by Mao Tse-tung / Chiang Kai Shek's army ran away. / They were waiting there in Thailand yesterday. Supported by the CIA. Pushing junk down Thailand way.”

“Cosmopolitan Greetings” — Rory’s favorite, if she ever needed to have one — “Stand up against governments, against God. Stay irresponsible. Say only what we know & imagine. Absolutes are Coercion. Change is absolute.”

It’s a week before she lets him break out Howl — and she doesn’t tell him right away, but she can already feel the baby ready itself for their almost-nightly poetry slam, as if they already know what is about to happen. She made him agree that they would split Howl into three nights, three sections, the way it is supposed to be, but that doesn’t stop the hypnosis that takes over as soon as he cracks the book open.

“I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked, / dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix, / angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night, / who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking in the supernatural darkness of cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz,” he says, his voice picking up every syllable as if he wrote the words himself, and Rory is caught.

There’s no going back now, either with Ginsberg or with Jess.

“... who were expelled from the academies for crazy & publishing obscene odes on the windows of the skull…”

“... who chained themselves to subways for the endless ride from Battery to holy Bronx on benzedrine until the noise of wheels and children brought them down shuddering mouth-wracked and battered bleak of brain all drained of brilliance in the drear light of Zoo…”

“... who disappeared into the volcanoes of Mexico leaving behind nothing but the shadow of dungarees and the lava and ash of poetry scattered in fireplace Chicago…”

“... who wept at the romance of the streets with their pushcarts full of onions and bad music, who sat in boxes breathing in the darkness under the bridge, and rose up to build harpsichords in their lofts, who coughed on the sixth floor of Harlem crowned with flame under the tubercular sky surrounded by orange crates of theology…”

“... who sang out of their windows in despair, fell out of the subway window, jumped in the filthy Passaic, leaped on negroes, cried all over the street, danced on broken wineglasses barefoot smashed phonograph records of nostalgic European 1930s German jazz finished the whiskey and threw up groaning into the bloody toilet, moans in their ears and the blast of colossal steamwhistles…”

And then, it happened.

One kick. Jess isn’t even sure that’s what he felt.

“... who barreled down the highways of the past journeying to each other’s hotrod-Golgotha jail-solitude watch or Birmingham jazz incarnation, who drove cross country seventy two hours to find out if I had a vision or you had a vision or he had a vision to find out Eternity,…”

Another. Okay, he’s more sure now. Especially as it happens again.

“... who journeyed to Denver, who died in Denver, who came back to Denver & waited in vain, who watched over Denver & brooded & loned in Denver and finally went away to find out the Time, & now Denver is lonesome for her heroes—”

“I don’t know, Jess,” Rory says, stopping him from continuing, and though he isn’t sure why she stopped, he’s very sure that what he’s now feeling is the movement of the baby. “I think maybe they like Ginsberg as much as you do.”

But his mind just keeps going back to that last line he read. Instead of responding, he reads it again: “who journeyed to Denver, who died in Denver, who came back to Denver & waited in vain, who watched over Denver & brooded & loned in Denver and finally went away to find out the Time, & now Denver is lonesome for her heroes,” — and, yes, the baby kicks again.

An almost-violent movement, pushing some of the skin of Rory’s stomach around with the movement, but she doesn’t seem to care, her attention focused solely on the smile that continues to spread wider across his face.

“Not only that,” he says, setting the book spine-up on the arm of the couch so he can run the fingers of his other hand through Rory’s hair, not daring to move his hand from the spot that the baby seems to be targeting, “But I think they may have just chosen their name, too.”

“What? Allen? Certainly not Ginsberg, that’s how you destin a child for a life of torture—”

“No, no, none of those,” he says, shaking his head. “Besides, I may have a feeling that it’s a boy, but that doesn’t mean the name choice needs to be so certain.”

“Jess, just tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Denver.”

Surprisingly — really, he certainly didn’t expect it to happen again — he feels the push against his hand, the movement of the baby just as he says it.

“Denver,” she repeats — and they do it again.

She smiles. “Do you need to finish reading the poem, or can you just kiss me now?”

WEEK 30

“So, Rory, can you tell us about Denver?” She’s actually a little surprised that the question comes from Miss Patty and not from the prying mind of Emily Gilmore. “How did you guys come up with the name?”

Of course, she had the thought a moment too soon, and this is when her grandmother decided to speak up: “How they picked a name without even knowing the gender is beyond me.”

“Mom,” Lorelai says, turning towards Emily with her eyes wide.

Jess rolls his eyes, doesn’t even try to hide it from the other guests at the shower.

Lane laughs from her seat on the other side of Rory.

“It’s from a poem,” Rory says, trying to ignore everything else going on around her, her hand on Jess’ knee.

“Now there’s a surprise.” This time, it’s Paris with the sarcastic comment.

“A famous poem?” Liz asks from across the room, where Jess was sure that she wasn’t actually paying attention, sitting on her cell phone. He’s surprised, but thankful that she actually seems to care.

“Depends on who you ask,” Jess says truthfully.

“You guys can’t just pick a normal name from a normal poem, can you?” Paris asks — and this time, Rory rolls her eyes.

“Why, what’s the poem?” Luke asks, his patience cut short by the collection of women (plus Christopher, who everyone knows is far from his favorite person) around him.

“It’s called Howl,” Jess answers.

Paris scoffs.

Jess rolls his eyes.

“Seriously, Gilmore?” Paris asks, completely ignoring Jess’ pointed glare.

“What?” Emily and Rory ask at the same time, but in very different tones. “Is there something wrong with that poem?” Emily asks, already judging Jess before she’s even given the answer.

“No,” Rory and Jess say together.

Paris rolls her eyes. “I wish I was surprised.”

“Lorelai,” Emily scoffs, turning to her daughter as if there is something she can do in this situation.

“What? What could I possibly do that would make you happy about this? They’ve already picked out the name.”

“It’s just not the most appropriate for children, that’s all,” Paris adds, possibly seeing that argument that she almost started.

“What, you expect me to start reading nursery rhymes before the kid can even understand what I’m saying? I would think you would be smart enough to know that’s wrong, Gellar.”

“Maybe I’ll just start calling you Ginsberg.”

“What does that mean?” Emily asks, either trying and failing to whisper to Lorelai, or knowing exactly how loud her voice is.

“It’s the poet, grandma,” Rory answers.

"Maybe you should just read us the poem, honey," Liz suggests, rather unhelpfully.

"Good idea," Like agrees.

"That's a terrible idea," Paris (unhelpfully) argues.

"Well, is it long?" Michel finally speaks up, simply enjoying the banter from the sidelines to this point.

"It's published as a novel," Rory tells them all.

Jess, of course, has to argue for Ginsberg. "Yeah, but not, like, a full-length novel."

"That doesn't mean you need to read it at the baby shower," Lane agrees.

"You're naming your child after this poem, the least you could do is share it with us," Emily argues.

And that's how Jess wound up reading all of Part One of Howl at the baby shower.

When he's done, no one speaks for a moment.

Emily is, of course, the first to speak. "Well, that was awful."

"Mom!" "Grandma!"

"I mean, she's not wrong," Luke — unhelpfully — agrees.

"For once, I agree with the man," Michel — unhelpfully — adds.

Thankfully (Rory supposes), that's the most chaotic part of the shower.

As people start leaving, Luke pulls Jess aside away from the crowd, stopping from loading the new gifts into the trucks parked by the side door to the Inn.

"What are you doing?" He seems angry, which confuses Jess.

"What are you talking about?"

"Why haven't you asked her to move in with you yet?"

Jess is, to say the least, a little flabbergasted. "Is that what you want?"

"Come on, Jess, you know this isn't about me. It's about you, it's about her, and it's about this baby."

"I mean, she hasn't said anything about it."

"Listen, I know you're letting her take the lead on everything, but sometimes you just have to take a leap of faith."

Jess runs his hand through his hair — a little shorter than it's been recently, at Rory's request. He's only gotten compliments about it in the two weeks since it's happened, though, so he's assuming Rory isn't the only one who prefers it this way.

She's the only one that matters, though. She always has been.

"What if she doesn't want to? If she thinks it's too much?" He almost doesn't ask the question — because it really is the main reason he hasn't asked her yet, despite all the times he's wanted to. The fear of denial.

Luke almost laughs. "Then she'll continue to spend every night with you above the restaurant while still refusing to believe that she's not really living with us anymore."

Jess contemplates this for a moment, silent. It's not that he doesn't want her to move in, doesn't want to raise the baby together, hopefully affording something more exciting than the apartment over the restaurant in the near future.

Is it really what's best for the baby?

"It would be easier to take everything there now than to have to move it all later," Luke comments, then slides his hat back over his slowly-greying hair. "I'll just leave you with that thought."

But there's nothing more for Jess to think about, looking across the room to where Rory is standing between her mother and Paris, a smile spread over her face and her hands over her growing stomach.

In just a few large strides, he crosses the room, pausing for a moment to let Sookie snap a picture of them with Lorelai's cell phone. "Rory, can I ask you something?" he asks, gesturing for her to walk with him.

Smiling, she nods. "Of course. What's up?"

He just goes for it. Rips off the band-aid in one fell swoop, or something like that.

"I think it would be easier if we just took all of Denver's stuff to the apartment."

"But there's more room for it at the house." She doesn't pick up on what he's trying to say. (He's not really surprised.)

"We can make room for it."

"But why?"

"It would be much easier to just have everything in one place, don't you think?"

"Some of my stuff is at the house, though."

"Then we move what you need to the apartment, too."

Finally — finally — she seems to understand, a huge smile spread across her face once the realization gets to her.

"Yeah, okay," she says cooly, trying to hold herself together.

#gilmore girls #gilmore girls au #literati #jess mariano #rory gilmore #baby gilmore #literati au #post-revival au #except I ignore half of the revival anyway #there's one more scene that's not written yet #but today is (ironically) my baby shower so I can't promise it'll be finished #so this is what you get

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nightmaretyrantvantas · 5 years

Text

It never hurts to spoil your pokemon- a pokemon au story

Another headcanon/ little fluff story for @sugarglider9603‘s pokemon au! This time it focuses a bit more on thomas and his adoration of the boys. It also takes place time wise after my previous fic, so this could be considered a continuation( but you dont have to read it to understand this)

I hope you enjoy!

and hey, @notveryglittery, I heard you were having a rough day and I know this probably isnt the fluff you were expecting but I hope, none the less, that it helps cheer you up( I feel you about 8 hour shifts, and I believe youll get through it!)

Thomas gave a happy hum as he walked along the neatly kept sidewalks, enjoying the bright fall summery sun and the sweet salty breeze. He was tired, but who wouldnt be after traveling through a long mountain pass. But Thomas figured it was worth it to reach a small riverside town on the other side of the mountain base, a lovely place surrounded by nature and flowers. It was worth it but the journey itself had been pretty rough and upon reaching the pokemon center he let the boys rest in the room they were staying in and went out to explore and restock.

“ Lets see....oh boy thisll be a big shopping list...” He muttered to himself, rummaging through his bag.

“ Potions, max potions for emergencies, revives for emergencies that we cant reach a pokemon center, antidotes, burn heals, full heals for big emergencies,parlyz heals, and some medicinal herbs in case the boys get sick...along with more food and drinks for the road...ok!” With a firm nod Thomas smiled and found his way to various markets, surprisingly speeding through his shopping despite his fatigue. He waved to the cashier as he stepped back into the sunshine from the last store on his list, humming even happier than before.He started to make his way back to the center then stopped seeing a bunch of berry stalls. It only took a second to think about before he moved and started looking through the stalls.

It had been awhile since he had really cooked poffins or any other pokemon treats, since the last time he had tried with MJ Thomas had over half of his( Remus ate them happily regardless, but that wasnt the point). But he still had the recipes he’d learned in a little booklet in his pocket and plenty of leftover money on hand to splurge a little...the trainer couldnt help but smile to himself. His boys had done amazing climbing mountain terrain for the first time,and they deserved some special treatment. With that in mind he began picking out berries that would make treats in their favorite flavors. The older woman smiled watching the young boy try to decide between two different sweet berries with a clueless expression and walked over.

“ Hello young man, can I help you at all?” He gave her a sheepish smile, a bundle of berries in either hand.

“ Ah well...I’m looking for berries that have a sweet but also little bitter taste? Im trying to make treats for my pokemon...” She smiled wider and gently directed him further down the stall, and Thomas was grateful as she gave him cooking advice for different berries. Once they were done and things were paid for he had a nice basket bursting with colorful goodies as he continued down the street to the pokemon center. But once more he stopped when he saw a little accessory store , the window display showing off many different options and goodies. His eyes caught on something in particular though.

A little clip on flower crown made with well made big blooming fabric Gracidea flowers. It immediately made him think of Patton, and the way he always makes flower crowns whenever he gets the chance. Thomas just couldnt stop himself from going into the store and buying it, tucking it safely away in his bag as he continued his way.

It was about one street over when he stopped again at a store window and went in, coming out once more with a lovely blue and black striped tie and a bright reddish pink bandanna in his hand, as well as a shiny red brush and some glasses’ cleaner. He whistled as he walked as he tucked his new presents into his bag as well to keep them safe, happily imagining the reactions he’d get to his surprises. They deserved this, his boys had been working hard.

Thats what he told himself as he made his next few stops. Grabbing some fidgeting toys he knew Virgil liked to play with to calm his nerves, as well as some soft mareep fleece to line the inside of his hoodie with as summer ended and fall and winter slowly approached. After all it never hurt for him to prepare early. He told himself it as he also bought a small bundle of local flowers from a little girl and her roselia and bellosom, watching the small pokemon cheerfully help his flowers bloom. Patton would love them, he knew it. Just like Deceit would like couple electric gems and little brooch for his cape or like Remus would enjoy couple antique metal pieces, dented and twisted like youd find in a junkyard and a small bundle of break apart pokemon toys that he could happily break and rebuild as much as he wanted.Once he finally decided to cut himself off he got back to the pokemon center and smiled tiredly at Nurse Joy, holding his haul in his arms.

“ Hey um...do you have a kitchen or something I could use to cook?” The woman chuckled and led him to the kitchen and showed him where to find anything he mightve needed, simply asking him to clean up when he was done. With everything he needed sprawled across the counters he pulled off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, tying off his apron with a grin.

“ Ok lets do this! It cant be that hard!”

Thomas was in there the rest of the late morning and afternoon, up until the light tinted gold, red, and pink across the kitchen. There had been many little mishaps and retries and alot of taste tests from the nurse’s paitent Chansey, but he finally had everything ready. The boy wiped at some flour streaked across his cheek, not noticing it only smearing it even more as he washed his hands and began placing the stacked plate of different flavored poffins, treats, and pokemon safe cookies and fruit goods as well as tin foiled and hot wrapped up dinner into a appreciately provided lined basket and finished cleaning up the mess he made in the kitchen, scooping every up into his arms and half waddling back to his room with Chansey’s help opening the door. The smell of food filled the little bedroom and awoke the cuddled together eevelutions, all of them lifting their heads groggily and yipping at him questioning. Thomas beamed proudly and he sat on the floor and gestured for them all to join him as he set everything down, petting them in greeting.

“ Evening guys! You all were wiped out, so I let you sleep and I went to go restock our supplies. While I was gone I got you all surprises!” He motioned to the poffins and happily exclaimed that he made them himself just for them, and that he also had dinner in the basket too. He felt his chest swell happily as he watched them all pick their favorite flavors and munch happily, leaning on him as they did. Thomas also couldnt help but laugh at the squeal Patton gave as he tackled him and buried his face in kisses when he saw the flower crown and the flowers, wearing his new accessory excitedly. Roman practically demanded to be groomed purring when he saw his new brush as he pawed at his new bandana contently. Once the grooming was done Thomas helped Logan put on his new tie and cleaned both his and Patton’s glasses, as well as attatched Deceit’s new brooch while Remus nawed on his new toys to break them in and nuzzled him gratefully. Then he pet them all as they ate dinner and played, promise virgil that when they found a seamstress they would attach the fleece to his jacket to keep him warm. He was happy and so were they, and that night as he was laying down Logan curled up on his chest licking his hand and fingers appreciately. Remus flopped down at Thomas’s feet, on top of them really, and purred loudly as he nawed on the metal more contently, his eyes half open. Patton curled up under one arm nuzzling the hand not getting licked and happily being petted as Roman curled around his neck under his head to keep him warm while Deceit and Virgil cuddled on his stomach purring. Thomas smiled contently and shut his eyes, falling asleep like that.

Tada! It took a week but I hope its ok!

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@phantommoonpeople @sweetsweetemo @amazable01 @leesacrakon @sugarglider9603

#My writing #sander sides #sander sides au #pokemon au #pokemon #sander sides fanfiction #sander sides fic

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silyabeeodess · 5 years

Text

FusionFall Retro 2019 Halloween Event Short: The Pumpkin King

She’d lost count around 3,000 fusion monsters...

This was supposed to be her favorite time of the year. She was supposed to be taking turns at any one of the Fusion Fighter bases taking watch and partying the rest of the night away. What happened instead? She and countless other independent agents were called in for reinforcements to the Eternal Vistas graveyard.

Silya didn’t know what happened for there to be such an outbreak. The Fusion Fighters stationed nearby were always pretty vigilant and the underworlders--despite their aggravating, overall neutrality--didn’t typically appreciate Fuse’s creations ripping apart their territory. At first, she even dared to hope that it was a false alarm, when she’d been assigned her first job to collect a small sample of the new, weak pumpkin monstrosities by Jeff the Spider.

Boy, was she wrong...

While hardly a threat alone, the fusion monsters were difficult to beat in mass--and there was an insane army of them swarming every inch of the cemetery on top of the usual horrors that dominated the place like the Bloodsuckers. Worse, no matter how many of them the Fusion Fighters shot down, more would almost instantly respawn in their place. This was the fastest she’d ever seen any fusion rematerialize!

Beyond going through a bit of a blood rage, she didn’t know how she lasted through the countless hours spent mowing them down. Now, not only was Halloween over, the woman was hungry, exhausted, and lacking her sweet-tooth fix! All she’d really gotten out of the night was some prototype, magical tokens Grim was working on to help revive soldiers in the field: Helpful, life-saving even, but she didn’t care! Her favorite holiday had been ruined, and even for Fuse that crossed a line.

The interplanetary tyrant had to have at least one underworlder helping him out. Although the attack had been handled well-enough, it had been too planned. All while they fought, everyone’s mind had gone to the countless bases and how much weaker they would be with such a massive shrink in forces. Either Fuse meant try to take out their large numbers forced to gather in one place or he meant to conduct a series of attacks across multiple locations. Either way, as soon as the job was finally done, everyone began to clear out--racing to return to their brothers and sisters in arms.

Except for Silya. Staying back and donning on a winged, skeletal appearance with her Spinal-ARCH and a dark cloak that would’ve gone with her costume for the evening, she’d marched over to a large crypt, forced her way inside, and stepped onto the wide, empty casket she knew would be placed in its center.

Going down...

The underworlders had all kinds of secret entrances to their domain like this, if you knew where to look for them. Him had dropped her the hint one time when he sent her on a stupid job to get some sort of makeup that could only be found there. Mortals weren’t supposed to know about it, and she could be killed and her soul stolen if they found her trespassing. She was too angry to care. Running on their own clock, they were all probably still enjoying the Halloween festivities anyway and wouldn’t pay much attention to her odd, not quite dead, look.

Having only been to the underworld once, she didn’t know where to go, but she did have one clue about who to look for. Something similar to the attack had happened in Endsville one Halloween, only the pumpkins had supposedly been possessed by the souls of the dead rather than fusion matter. Grim refused to talk about it, but the story went that the immortal trickster, Jack O’ Lantern, had been behind it. She was going to pay him a visit. And if turned out that he was working with Fuse, she was going to start a new tradition of pumpkin smashing every Halloween--starting with that head of his.

The area of the underworld she stepped into was something like a small town, albeit with a somewhat old-fashioned, fire and brimstone aesthetic. The streets were relatively clear, minus the occasional wagon full of screaming passengers barreling down them, but the lights of nearly every building were still on and loud, muffled sounds of music and jeering laughter could be heard from every corner. Just as she thought: Everyone was still busy enjoying the night.

Eventually finding a large, rowdy pub, she stepped inside, her hand going to the nano pieces hidden on her belt to manually lock them. The locks would only work for short periods, since she was the one doing it, but Silya didn’t want her nanos to step into danger--not here. This was her gamble and she wasn't about to put them at risk. Weaving through the crowd, she sat at the bar and muttered an order. As a mortal, actually eating or drinking any of the food from the underworld could kill her, so she just wrapped her hand around the cup passed her way to keep appearances. Silya eyed the other patrons, wondering who she could attempt to pry Jack’s whereabouts out of first.

Lucky or not, she actually didn’t have to look for Jack at all. The lean jokester happened to already be there with his bag of tricks and noticed her walk in. Cloaked skeletons already had a way of catching his attention, but hundreds of years living with mortals--and once being a mortal himself--meant that her disguise didn’t fool him as easily as it did the others. He snuck to her side, easing to the barstool next to her with his hat tipped low.

If it weren’t for death taming him a bit and a heightened curiosity, he would’ve already slapped a ‘Kick Me’ sign on her back and watched the inevitable chaos ensue. As things were though, it was entertaining enough to see her visibly recoil when he leaned into her ear and whispered, “I’d hate to bother you, but we don’t see many of your type around here, miss. Not of the living variety anyway.”

At first, Silya’s expression had turned to shock, then immediately hardened as she reached for a weapon from under her cloak. She froze again, however, when she spun around to see a pumpkin face giving her a wicked grin. She wasn’t prepared to have her cover blown so fast, but she reigned herself in, forcing aside her warfront instincts. Her lips pressed into a firm line, “I take it you're Jack?”

His grin turned pleased, satisfied that he still had something of a reputation in the world above. “Jack O’ Lantern, the one and only.” Helping himself to her glass, he drained part of its contents before he continued, “You shouldn’t be here, girl. Those Resurrect ‘Ems keeping you alive and well on the battlefield haven’t exactly been good business for some of us. If someone catches you, you can kiss the surface goodbye.”

He wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t already know. What it did tell her, however, was that he wouldn’t likely reveal her to the other underworlders. Although she still kept her voice low, she relaxed a bit. “Oh yeah? We just had a massive attack right over your heads. If you people couldn’t notice that much, I doubt anyone else is going to catch me.”

Still sipping her drink, Jack turned his back to the bar, leaning against it as he raised his shoulders in an uncaring shrug. Tricks and mischief, battle and bloodshed, it was all par for the course for most underworlders: The chaos kept their immortal lives interesting. Granted, he could also understand her point of view: For all that had happened in his own time in the land of the living, he still nursed many of his old, human thoughts and feelings. He was just one of the few down here who would, and right now she was like a duck that had brought its own pot and leek to a banquet.

“Lighten up, lollipop: It’s Halloween,” he told her, “So what if you had to work? Go back up, go to a convenience store, and drown yourself in a bowl of clearance candy. It’d be a lot better than looking for another fight down here.”

Pursing at the nickname, Silya leaned toward him. “Those fusion monsters looked like pumpkins, Jack,” she rebuked, a fist tightened on the countertop. “A lot like your pumpkins, and I doubt I’m the only one who picked up on that, so maybe you should take this seriously.”

He glowered at her as she finally got to her point. He didn’t like the threat he thought tinged her voice, especially when he was trying to play nice for once. Not to mention, it hit a bit of a sore spot. The only reason he was this way to begin with was because he got axed over something he didn’t do.

Inside, Jack didn’t take her implications lightly. On the outside, he dismissed her with a wave of his hand, “I don’t do serious. There’s no fun in it,” then finished off the cup with a deep swig, “and there’d be no fun in doing the same, failed trick twice. Besides, why would I work with those green globs? You can’t get a good laugh out of them. I prefer a solo act, sweetheart, and the end of the world isn’t exactly what I’d call a punchline.”

Silya blinked at her in surprise, her eyes widening. She hadn’t thought about it that way, since it’d mean that Jack wouldn’t have any new targets to practice his tricks on if the planet was destroyed. The underworlders were bound to be next after he’d conquered the surface, but as quick as most of them were to sell each other out, Jack still used to be human and just didn’t have the that kind of stake in things. Pranks and jokes were his life, and that was pretty much it. When all the fun was over, there’d be nothing left.

Others would jump to her same conclusion. She wasn’t quick to dismiss the possibility of Jack’s betrayal either, but right then she didn’t think he was lying. Looking away, she straightened in her seat and muttered a quiet, “Sorry...”

Jack raised a brow at her, but said nothing. Then, he reached into his bag and pulled out a lollipop, handing it to her. “Just take this and get out of here,” he grumbled, “I’m in a good mood tonight, so I won’t rat you out. If you’re dumb enough to show your face around here again though, pick a better costume.”

Suspicion shown in her eyes again until he reassured her it was mortal candy, pointing out the brand across the wrapper. Only then did Silya’s face soften, a small word of thanks leaving her before she stood and exited the pub. Jack watched her go, still reclined against the bar. His own smile returned.

Yeah.. that was going to stain her teeth for several hours.

END

#fusionfall #fusionfall retro #halloween #I'll finish the prompt one as soon as I can #I just had to make one short story for the event #I had an idea similar for this for one of my comics #but it needed to be implemented here after everything #I wasn't gonna miss the opportunity #jack #jack o' lantern #gaobam #the grim adventures of billy and mandy #silya beeodess #silya #fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #video games #Halloween event

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gerudospiriit · 5 years

Text

Read to Me

[So, uh. I know I mentioned that Ganondorf-centric fic. But I wanted to revive this instead because I’ve been feeling more fluff than angst lately.

Anyway, cleaned this up, so have some sweet Nabsgan to brighten(???) your day :3]

Ganondorf had returned several hours ago, before the sun had even sunk beneath the horizon. Pride and the memory of their last spat before he left for one of his longer trips to Hyrule Castle still fresh on Nabooru’s mind prevented her from immediately greeting the king as he arrived at the fortress. Until that quarrel, she had planned to go with him, perhaps offer him better company than those stuffed shirt nobles. But, he ruined that notion quickly, a day before leaving, too.

That day she rose with the sun and met him at the stables as she always did to see him off. The tension palpable, both of their bodies stiffened like a couple of animals ready to fend off a predator should the need arise. They managed to keep their farewell civil, though the couple remained silent until they reached the entrance to the valley. Once out of the guards’ line of sight, she slipped my foot into the stirrup on top of his, hoisted herself up, and planted a quick peck on his cheek before making him promise to come back safe.

Though grudgingly, he did. She even saw a tiny smile crack the too serious expression he donned more often than not these days.

And yet, she still couldn’t help the clenching of her jaw, watching from the sanctuary of the meeting room window, as he rode his black stallion back up to the fortress two weeks later. Several of the guards had abandoned their posts to greet and escort him to the stables, circling around him and beaming at their king. Ganondorf even seemed to be in good spirits, smiling and chatting with them, not a single qualm with the questions they pelted him with.

Though this should have alleviated some of her fears, Nabooru couldn’t convince herself that another shouting match would not come within hours of the two making contact. As with many of their arguments, there always seemed to be a calm before the storm. Like a mirage of an oasis as you’re dying of thirst before the reality of barrenness becomes apparent.

Thus, she avoided Ganondorf for the rest of the afternoon, busying herself with even the most menial task she could think of. She did not return to her room until late evening after grabbing a quick dinner on the fly when she was sure he would not be around the meal hall. An insurmountable task, especially without raising suspicion.

She hummed a tune softly to myself as she began to remove her jewelry, toeing off her shoes as I padded over to the vanity mirror across from her bed. She slipped the ruby from her hair with a relieved sigh, crimson hair spilling over her shoulders as I picked up her brush. She only managed to glide it through the length few times before stopping short, bristles halfway down and her fingers gripping the ends.

After all the evasion and fear of either of them finding a reason to argue, she hadmissed the infuriating idiot.

Setting the brush down, she groaned at her reflection and shook her head as if the image in the mirror would talk her out of what I was about to do.

“You’re a masochist, Nabooru…I hope you know that.”

Despite the self-scolding, she pushed herself up from the vanity and headed back out into the hallway. Rising in rank to Second in Command meant a new room, one closer to the king’s quarters in case anything should go awry. Just a right turn and a quick jaunt down a torch-lit hall brought her to her destination: an ornate, red door with gold embellishments surrounding their people’s symbol.

A familiar sight, as she often found herself in his room for one reason or another; sometimes business, other times pleasure. But recent visits always left her feeling a little colder than they used to. Hesitant to enter. The sensation was always strange as she stood in front of it these days, wringing her hands and holding her breath like a little girl, gathering up the courage to ask her instructor for permission to train with the older girls. And the ache in her chest…that desire for the warmth and comfort the couple used to enjoy with each other.

Before she could convince herself to turn back, she raised her fist to knock, but paused before knuckle struck wood. Rolling her eyes at her own stupidity, Nabooru lowered her fist to the knob instead, gripping it too tightly and turning it, slowly pushing the heavy wood forward.

The sweet scent of burning incense mixed with the smell of the burning torches on the wall innediately assaulted her nostrils. The crackle of fire and the low lighting soothed her anxiety a touch. She took a few seconds to admire how they made the shadows of the decorations and fixtures around the room dance in broken steps. It reminded her of graffiti she saw in the Market years ago: wild looking figures danced around their burning victim. She could not tell whether the garish figures were meant to be humans or monsters.

At first, she deemed the room empty, a mixture of relief and disappointment causing her shoulders to slump. Though, upon scanning the room, she found the man in question at the other side of his large quarters, stretched out on one of his couched, one made specially for him considering his substantial size (though, somehow, it still looked incredibly small beneath him). In place of the black armor he had sported upon arriving home, he now donned a simple pair of pants similar to my own, only black in color. He held a book in one hand, expression calm as he scanned the pages, his other hand resting behind his head for extra support.

He did not even twitch as the mechanisms of the door clicked softly as Nabooru closed it behind her; he merely turned to the next page in his book, shifting his left leg off the couch, foot planted on the rug below him. She knew better; he was fully aware someone had entered his room and, because she hadn’t knocked, he knew very well it was her.

“Just got back and you’re already working?”

“This is hardly working, Nabooru,” he remarked, finally tearing his amber eyes from his book to watch her cross the room. The light of the torches flickered in his irises, mesmerizing the woman. “I’m relaxing after a long week and a half of negotiations. Not to mention a long, boring ride back here.”

She snorted softly at the rather pointed glare he shot her. As much as she wanted to inform him that it was his own fault she decided not to join him, she bit my tongue; he deserved a night of relaxation and she did not wish to ruin that for him (or herself) by inciting an argument. Plus, she grew tired of the fighting, the nonstop bickering. She knew lovers fought, but surely not as often as they seemed to lately…

Nabooru paused at the nearby bookshelf and hummed to herself, gliding her fingers along leather spines of volumes on any topic from history of Hyrule’s races to Gerudo fighting styles through the ages. She selected one at random, hardly concerned with the contents, and turned to face him. “Mind if I join you?”

Instead of a verbal answer, he merely shifted so that his back rested more fully against the arm of the couch, beckoning her over with a lazy wave of his free hand. Smiling gently, she strode over to him with her book selection and carefully rested between his legs, reclining so her back rested against his torso, head on his chest.

“Comfortable?” he asked, his voice surprisingly genuine as he lifted his book to eye level once more.

She simply nodded in response, cracking her own hefty volume of…a quick glance at the cover informed her she had made chosen a book about potions and their properties. Nothing she even remotely cared about, her eyes glazing over just reading a single sentence.

Boring subject matter aside, her focus suffered as his fingers danced absently along her bare side, from the top of her hip to just beneath her ribcage. She could not stop the pleased sigh that passed her lips as that simple touch disarmed her, any fears or trepidations dissolving. Her eyes slipped closed as she indulged in his warmth, soothed by the sound of his steady breathing and heart beat pumping next to her head.

“Potions too boring for you? Does seem like an odd choice…”

“Mm?” Nabooru blinked rapidly and tilted her head back. Her eyes met his, eyebrows furrowing in confusion; surely she hadn’t fallen asleep! Caught in her act anyway, she set the potions book aside. “Did I fall asleep?”

“No, but you were about to.” His gaze had returned to his own book, though his hand gravitated upward, resting just above the armband she only removed when bathing. His fingers occasionally stretched to trace the intricate metalwork and inlaid gem (his own design), dipping in between gold to caress tan flesh. Each few seconds of contact sent a tingling sensation through her body, and part of her swore he used magic. Though, deep down, she knew she just craved the contact. The intimacy. Something other than arguing.

Her eyes shifted to the book in his hand–an attempt to tear her focus away from such thoughts. The characters on the page were Hylian, the pages torn at the edges and discolored from age and use. As she skimmed through the page he was on, she deemed that it discussed the myths and history of Hyrule. She wasn’t surprised, but her heart still sank, mind flashing back to the disputes revolving around this very topic. The yelling. Spurned words spewed that she, at least, didn’t mean. Desperately holding back tears and stubbornly wiping them away when out of sight. The letters on the page seemed to taunt her in that moment, reminding her how tenuous their relationship had become because of this…this obsession. She thought to grab the book and tear those yellowing pages from their binding in that moment, as if that would snap Ganondorf back to his senses, release him from the spell he was under. To see how potentially dangerous his tentative plan could be.

Instead, Nabooru rested her head against his chest again, releasing a slow breath through her nose as he turned the page. His hand did not return to her arm, however, favoring her hair draped over her shoulder instead. His fingers combed through the locks, occasionally twisting stands about his fingers.

She relaxed once more. He must have sensed her discomfort, something the two had a knack for, at least with each other. Not that they paid it much mind these days, so he surprised her with the gesture, as he knew it was one that rarely failed to calm her. Though, judging how his eyes never left the pages of his book, the action most likely only served as a way to keep his free hand occupied, one of his preferences as he read, wrote, or merely as he lost himself in thought.

Still…she convinced myself it was the former.

Nabooru lifted herself up and sat on his thigh instead, draping my legs across his lap, my bare feet hanging over the side. It wasn’t until moments like these she really noticed the difference in their size. Tall as she was, he still had a head and a half on her in height. Not to mention his muscular build which aided his ability to dwarf anyone who came near him. But, it never bothered her…except occasionally in sparring sessions.

“Will you read to me?” Nabooru tilted her head back to look at him.

“What?”

“Read the book to me? Out loud?”

His expression flashed from annoyance to amusement as he met her gaze. “Have you not been practicing reading Hylian? You’re my Second in Command, Nabooru. I can’t have you being all brawn and no brain.” He prodded her forehead with a light chuckle, the first sincere one she had heard in a long time, unmarred by malice.

She swatted his hand away, lower lip poking out. “I can read and speak Hylian just fine and you know it. Besides, I know how much you love hearing your own voice.”

He laughed again, draping his arm around her waist hand resting on my thigh. “Very well. I’ll indulge you this time.”

Smiling at her small victory, she laid my head on his shoulder. He must have just bathed because she could smell the fresh scent of his favorite soap emanating from his skin; a spicy aroma but with a hint of freshness akin to the smell in Hyrule Field after a spring rain.

He began to read, his deep voice lowered to a soothing volume. His smooth tone never faltered over the Hylian words, as if it were his first language. Always a perfectionist, it did not surprise her; he had appearances to keep up to avoid the judgmental gazes of the more pompous Hylian nobles.

Though she preferred listening to their own language, she still found solace in his voice as he unfolded the story of the Triforce and iterated the author’s theories about it. The content did not interest her, however, so much as the voice relating it. The warmth currently in his tone was a rarity anymore as he preferred to adopt a colder, more indifferent timbre when dealing with her. Thus, she reveled in it for now. Lost herself in it.

Naboor saw his eyes flick over to her–though it did not interrupt his reading–as she brushed her fingertips along his chest, tracing faded scars along the expanse of bare flesh. The fingers of her other hand walked along his back, shoulder blade to shoulder blade. Up the back of his neck and into his hair. The ends were still damp from his bath.

She allowed her eyes to shift to his face. She always admired his features, sharp and defined. The lids over his eyes were half closed over amber irises as he followed the words on the pages. His habit for precision showed once more in the perfect grooming of his sideburns, hair, and eyebrows. Her gaze then drifted to his lips, lingering there for several seconds, suddenly fascinated with how they formed each word with flawless precision.

“Hey.”

The first time his voice broke off since he started reading aloud. He turned his head, annoyance flashing across those handsome features. She couldn’t help the cheeky smirk that curled her lips; pushing his buttons was a bit of a guilty pleasure.

Before he could reprimand her for interrupting, Nabooru leaned forward, gently pressing her lips to his, hands on either side of his face. When she pulled away and opened her eyes, she was relieved to see that a small smile had replaced the exasperated grimace on Ganondorf’s face.

“I missed you,” she breathed, resting my forehead against his.

He didn’t respond, not with words. She felt him shift beneath me, hand holding the book dropping off the side of the couch as he reconnected their lips. She heard his book drop to the floor with a dull thump, muscular arms circling around her frame.

Smiling against his lips, she readjusted her position, placing her knees on either side of his hips. She looped her arms over his shoulders, one hand weaving into his hair and urging his head forward to deepen their kiss. His hands slid up the back of her top as he forced my body flush against his.

Nabooru opened my mouth to protest when his lips left her, but the disgruntled huff turned to a delighted moan as he kissed the corner of her lips, along her jawline to her chin. She tilted her head back, baring her throat to him which he eagerly latched on to. A breathy sigh escaped her throat, the alternating kisses, bites, and licks down the length of her neck sending a shiver down her spine as well as igniting the familiar heat of passion in my veins.

“Will you be staying here tonight, my love?” She shuddered as his breath tickled the sensitive skin dampened with a thin strip of saliva from his licks. She could feel him smirking as he nipped and kissed along her collarbone. She could have punched him for being so smug.

Instead, Nabooru returned her head to its normal position, smiling coyly at him. “If that is what my king wishes,” she purred, letting her fingers trace his jawline. She nipped at his lower lip. “I only want you to be happy, love.”

Grinning, she slipped off his lap. However, she only managed two steps toward the bed before Ganondorf’s arm snaked around her waist, yanking me back into his body. She yelped and laughed as he easily hoisted her over his shoulder, carrying her the rest of the way to the bed.

Nabooru squeaked as I was unceremoniously dumped onto the bed and immediately pinned beneath Ganondorf. He held her hands above her head, lacing his fingers with hers. “That wasn’t fair, you know,” she said, pretending to struggle beneath him. “Could have given me a little more warning.”

“Now, where would be the fun in that?” he responded, chuckling at her half-hearted struggle. “Maybe you shouldn’t have tried to escape me.”

Nabooru rolled her eyes with a grin, lifting her head from the pillow to peck his lips. The chaste gesture earned her a more passionate kiss, a content moan sounding in her throat as she arched her back up toward him.

Ganondorf parted his lips from hers, capturing her gaze with little effort. He released one of her hands in favor of caressing her cheek with his thumb. “I love you, Nabooru.”

Shebeamed upon hearing those words, her heart thudding so hard against her ribcage she was sure he could hear it. She never thought She would hear him utter those words to her again.

“I love you, too, Ganondorf. Always will.”

#fanfiction #nabooru #ganondorf #nabsgan #nabooruxganondorf #ganondorfxnabooru #legend of zelda #loz #oot #ocarina of time #i hope i caught all the first person stuff #i wanted to switch it to third person

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pricechecktranslations · 7 years

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DSoE: MotHY; Chapter 6-Not Eve

Master of the Heavenly Yard chapter content summary under the cut.

-Scene 1

This part just quotes the "Not Eve" part of the song.

-Scene 2

The destruction of the world destroyed the boundary between the Hellish Yard and the ground world. So Gumillia was able to leave the Hellish Yard. Thinking she had to do something, first she met with Michaela and Sickle together--a meeting of three worlds: Hellish Yard, Heavenly Yard, and the ground world. They decided to let the people decide the fate of the world.

But then, if they did that the dead souls would wander the world forever. They figured they would reduce the influence of the second period. The ending had to be decided by those born in the third period. Held's spirits were an easy matter. Michaela took care of the vessels of deadly sin and the demons of deadly sin, barring Seth, who went with Gumillia.

She needed Seth to help track down and capture deadly sin contractors, who, thanks to the way the world works now, are able to use their abilities as contractors despite no longer being possessed. They were part of the influence of the second period.

Sickle sent the "Irregular", Allen, down to the ground world to learn all of the third period history, and then wanted to put him in charge of reviving the world. As for why Allen, he and Riliane are beings that are separate from the rules of the third period (what is called "Irregular"). They were born between a human and a mud golem. Which is impossible.

Rahab though that if the two of them met, there was a chance it would basically cause a massive "reformatting" event. But Gumillia doubts that--they technically met each other when they were first born. She thinks perhaps Rahab had simply wanted to think that, thinking the "Irregular" beings would be appropriate for remaking the world.

Everyone at the meeting was divided on Allen meeting the contractors--on the one hand, they had a lot of second period influence in them, but they were also clearly born in the third period. Eventually they decided to let Allen meet with them, and then have Gumillia drag them to hell immediately afterward. But then Allen ignored Sickle's directions and, with Michaela, went after Nemesis's body in the "graveyard". Michaela explained the situation to Gumillia, and she decided to help as it was her dearest wish to see Nemesis' spirit again.

-Scene 3

By Sickle's instructions, Gumillia only told Allen that she was chasing contractors, not the contents of the meeting. Gumillia herself doesn't really care for Sickle's plan, thinking to herself as she carries Riliane and Prim into the Hellish Yard. Sickle said they should limit the influence of the second period, but Michaela and Sickle and Gumillia are part of that as gods. Not to mention he keeps saying he wants to protect the rules, but then he had a being whose existence breaks the rules determine the ending. Etc.

Riliane kicks up a stink, demanding she be put down, and Gumillia lets her go. A little banter and Riliane recognizes Gumillia as someone she knows, but she doesn't recognize her face--Gumillia has returned to the face she had as a member of the Climb One crew (though she tells Riliane her name and that reminds her of who she is).

Gumillia takes her to where the other contractors are waiting, at the "judgment door", where you pass through to either heaven or hell. There's three people there, all contractors--or really, people who have the most compatibility with their respective demon of deadly sin. Technically, two of them never actually contracted. They're still there though because of their deep connection to demons.

Kayo walks up to them and Riliane freaks out a little. To show Kayo who she is, she changes into her outfit as Rin Miroku, and also changes to the speaking patterns she used then. Kayo greets her, Riliane gets mad because she killed her, and Kayo apologizes. Very sincerely, too, so Riliane drops it.

Gumillia asks Kayo how she is, and Kayo says that she was confused upon being brought here, but she's over it now. She asks about the others, and Kayo complains that Venomania (one of the other people there) keeps trying to talk to her.

Venomania and Gallerian (the other one there) approach. Riliane thinks Gallerian is Kyle for a moment, but recognizes him for who he is. Gallerian asks if they've met before, and in response Riliane adopts her Postman persona. He's surprised to find Postman was a girl, and that she can talk now. He asks where Ma is but she doesn't know.

Venomania's pleased that Gumillia brought two women over. Riliane knows him from her history textbooks, and figures she should steer clear of him.

Gumillia sets Prim down and says that next she's going after Banica, entrusting Kayo with being in charge while she's gone. Gallerian stops her before she can leave, asking why she's catching contractors. She says it's her job to catch escapees from hell, and Gallerian points out that aside from Prim and Venomania, he hasn't seen any of these people in hell before. She admits that it was Sickle's orders, to try and keep them under control.

Gallerian doesn't buy it, saying that she's actually doing it to protect them. Then he says she's doing a poor job of it--he's certain that Gammon's people will come down here eventually. He then (saying "Like this!") hits the ground with his gavel and breaks it open. Margarita (I mean she isn't called that but in the illustration she looks like Margarita) floats up out of the ground. Gumillia calls her the "Sleep Princess", Eve Moonlit.

Kayo pulls out her scissors, and runs towards Eve, but Prim leaps in front of her to protect her, grabbing Kayo.

[Here there is a picture of Gallerian smirking evilly and holding his gavel with Margarita smiling next to him.]

Gumillia realizes that Prim is being puppeted by Eve's hypnotism. Gallerian tells her that it isn't Eve, it's his daughter Michelle, who is using Eve's power as her own. Gumillia thinks that Eve must be using her magic on him as well to delude him into thinking that, but he doesn't care if she believes him or not. He pulls out a pistol and starts firing at them.

Riliane is useless for now--she was possessed by Pride, but never used its power while she was alive. Kayo is being held by Prim. She's stronger than Prim is, but Prim is stronger due to Eve's puppeting (as they're both souls anyway).

Venomania goes to Prim and uses his power to get her to stop grappling with Kayo. She lets go and runs into his embrace, blushing. Gallerian tells "Michelle" to use her gift. She releases her toxin into the air.

Eve/Michelle(? For the record the narration only refers to her as the "Sleep Princess") says to Gallerian that it's "no use Papa, my heart is…going to Eve" (or something, it's vague), "I--I am the Sleep Princess, I…", then she bends over in pain and the toxin clouds vanish. He goes to check on her, and they decide to leave (he says if she does any more she'll lose herself--to Eve, presumably). Gallerian has her break the barrier to get out of there, there's a flash of light, and then they're gone.

Seth starts laughing about it and Gumillia chides him for that. She speculates Gallerian had been in contact with Gammon. Gumillia declares she'll go after him again, and then realizes that Venomania, Kayo, Prim, and Riliane were all gone. Seth starts laughing again. They were blown out. Seth recommends Gumillia fix the barrier before she goes after them again, or else they're just gonna escape again, but she doesn't have time. They decide to start over

-Scene 4

They're back on the ground world, Riliane looking around. They appear to be in a town (an illusion like everywhere else). Kayo pipes up, saying it doesn't look like Jakoku. Riliane asks where the others are and Kayo points to Venomania off to their right.

He's surrounded by a bunch of women, welcoming him home. They say that some strangely dressed men showed up while he was gone, but left when they found out he wasn't there. He's glad they're safe.

It seems they're in the Venomania estate in Asmodean. Riliane turns and walks away, Kayo following after her. She asks where she's going and Riliane brushes her off (she's clearly still miffed over being murdered by her). Riliane is going after Gallerian and the Sleep Princess again, which Kayo thinks is dangerous (Kayo is of course much stronger than Riliane is). Eventually Kayo says that she's going with her. Riliane finally agrees to take her on as a bodyguard.

As they're leaving, Venomania flies over (with wings now) and says he's coming too (saying as a man it's natural for him to help women in trouble, I guess he thinks he's chivalrous or something). He points out how he's the only one who's been able to combat the puppeteering magic Eve has, using his own abilities. He also doesn't like Gallerian (because he looks like the guy who killed him). Riliane thinks he shouldn't ever meet Kyle.

They all decide to head off together, Riliane taking out the doll and tightly squeezing it.

-Scene 5

Allen and Nemesis have arrived in Beelzenia. There's machinery ruins everywhere (ruins of a Blackbox) and there's a large skeleton sleeping in all the wreckage. They quickly realize it's WorldEater (which is Eater, the former forest spirit). They wake him up. Nemesis introduces herself as Levia, but he claims not to know her (perhaps because he hasn't remembered everything), so she tells him she's Elluka instead, which he does remember.

Eater explains that the BlackBox they see in ruins before them came with some soldiers who arrived earlier, and he destroyed it because Lich told him to. Eater is not a dead soul, but a dead soldier (basically a zombie) so he still has a physical body (which Lich made for him using mud, as it got destroyed once before).

Eater takes them inside the mansion where Lich and Banica and the others are. While they walk Nemesis talks about Eater with Allen, Allen saying he's actually rather docile despite his size and Nemesis saying that Eater is a good person. But he's clumsy/awkward and doesn't have any friends, save for Lich (they were childhood friends).

Banica is in the middle of eating when they show up, but pauses when she sees them. Banica throws her plate at them and Nemesis catches it. The food on it looks like some sort of charred black eight legged creature (? Maybe she's eating tarantulas idk i hear they're tasty).

Banica knows Nemesis is Levia, because that's information that Vlad knew. She comments on how Nemesis looks like Gumillia, talking about how from the things she's seen from inside the glass, she's come to recognize the patterns in the world (like lots of people being born looking like each other). She also knows Nemesis destroyed the world, but before that there were a lot of strange goings-on. Like Nemesis being an Elphe despite her mother being Jakokuan and her father being from Marlon.

Her point is that the world is different from what the gods once tried to create. Despite all its oddities and faults, the people who live in this world never knew another one, so they don't know any better. Even Arte and Pollo, despite being called "Twins of God", are little more than beings born in this world. That's why she was so glad when she met Lich and Eater, who are from the second period. She wants Arte and Pollo to know of another world like she does.

Nemesis says that even if she has Vlad's memories, Banica is still a member of the third period, not a god. Banica points out that Nemesis is in the same boat--she was a god, but she's human now.

Allen changes the subject to the Tasan party. Banica remarks that she's grateful Lich and Eater were able to take care of it (it was a bit much for Arte and Pollo). They ask about Lich and she calls him over. He recognizes Allen and Levia. Allen asks, as they used to live in the theater, where the residents are now. Banica and Lich share a look, then he tells Allen that Gear, Gammon, and the doll director are still in the theater. Banica is here, obviously, and he doesn't know about Ma and Waiter.

Nemesis asks Lich what he intends to do from now on, with regards to the world, mentioning how he'd made a body for Arth. Nemesis say that Lich apparently didn't care for Behemo being the one assigned to making humanity (because he'd been Lich's assistant), and even after being a spirit he tried to make a new race of humans. Him joining Banica likely had to do with researching the dead soldiers. However, he was never able to make anything more than clay/mud bodies like Arth's.

[Here is a picture of Banica in her Master of the Graveyard outfit, clapping her hands to summon Lich]

Lich doesn't care for Nemesis' breakdown of the situation. She asks if he intends to become a new "god" making humanity for the lost souls, but he has no intention of that. He did at one time, but he actually really likes serving Banica. He's never found anyone like her, and he wants to stay with her like this. Nemesis is relieved to hear it.

Banica calls up Arte and Pollo, who declare they've finished interrogating the Tasan soldier they captured for information about the theater. Banica says they'll head out for it then. Allen recognizes Arte as Ney, and she tells him that Banica is going to the theater to get rid of Gammon. Nemesis invites herself along (she also has a bone to pick with him). Banica discards the illusion of the mansion and all the food in it, saying she intends to make the theater her new home when they get there.

Arte notices that Allen isn't coming with them as they head north. He says he has to look for Riliane. Arte says he should come with them, as she's likely to be heading for the theater too (probably more likely to go after her enemies than always run from them). He agrees and joins in.

#evillious chronicles #ec activity feed #()price speaks

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thefortyeightlawsofpower-blog · 7 years

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LAW # 10 : INFECTION: AVOID THE UNHAPPY AND UNLUCKY

JUDGEMENT

You can die from someone else’s misery—emotional states are as infectious as diseases. You may feel you are helping the drowning man but you are only precipitating your own disaster. The unfortunate sometimes draw misfortune on themselves; they will also draw it on you. Associate with the happy and fortunate instead.

TRANSGRESSION OF THE LAW

Born in Limerick, Ireland, in 1818, Marie Gilbert came to Paris in the 1840s to make her fortune as a dancer and performer. Taking the name Lola Montez (her mother was of distant Spanish descent), she claimed to be a flamenco dancer from Spain. By 1845 her career was languishing, and to survive she became a courtesan—quickly one of the more successful in Paris.

Only one man could salvage Lola’s dancing career: Alexandre Dujarier, owner of the newspaper with the largest circulation in France, and also the newspaper’s drama critic. She decided to woo and conquer him. Investigating his habits, she discovered that he went riding every morning. An excellent horsewoman herself, she rode out one morning and “accidentally” ran into him. Soon they were riding together every day. A few weeks later Lola moved into his apartment.

For a while the two were happy together. With Dujarier’s help, Lola began to revive her dancing career. Despite the risk to his social standing, Dujarier told friends he would marry her in the spring. (Lola had never told him that she had eloped at age nineteen with an Englishman, and was still legally married.) Although Dujarier was deeply in love, his life started to slide downhill.

His fortunes in business changed and influential friends began to avoid him. One night Dujarier was invited to a party, attended by some of the wealthiest young men in Paris. Lola wanted to go too but he would not allow it. They had their first quarrel, and Dujarier attended the party by himself. There, hopelessly drunk, he insulted an influential drama critic, Jean-Baptiste Rosemond de Beauvallon, perhaps because of something the critic had said about Lola. The following morning Beauvallon challenged him to a duel. Beauvallon was one of the best pistol shots in France. Dujarier tried to apologize, but the duel took place, and he was shot and killed. Thus ended the life of one of the most promising young men of Paris society. Devastated, Lola left Paris.

In 1846 Lola Montez found herself in Munich, where she decided to woo and conquer King Ludwig of Bavaria. The best way to Ludwig, she discovered, was through his aide-de-camp, Count Otto von Rechberg, a man with a fondness for pretty girls. One day when the count was breakfasting at an outdoor café, Lola rode by on her horse, was “accidentally” thrown from the saddle, and landed at Rechberg’s feet. The count rushed to help her and was enchanted. He promised to introduce her to Ludwig.

Rechberg arranged an audience with the king for Lola, but when she arrived in the anteroom, she could hear the king saying he was too busy to meet a favor-seeking stranger. Lola pushed aside the sentries and entered his room anyway. In the process, the front of her dress somehow got torn (perhaps by her, perhaps by one of the sentries), and to the astonishment of all, most especially the king, her bare breasts were brazenly exposed. Lola was granted her audience with Ludwig. Fifty-five hours later she made her debut on the Bavarian stage; the reviews were terrible, but that did not stop Ludwig from arranging more performances.

THE NUT AND THE CAMPANILE

A nut found itself carried by a crow to the top of a tall campanile, and by falling into a crevice succeeded in escaping its dread fate. It then besought the wall to shelter it, by appealing to it by the grace of God, and praising its height, and the beauty and noble tone of us bells. “Alas,” it went on, “as I have not been able to drop beneath the green branches of my old Father and to lie in the fallow earth covered by his fallen leaves, do you, at least, not abandon me. When I found myself in the beak of the cruel crow I made a vow, that if I escaped I would end my life in a little hole. ”

At these words, the wall, moved with compassion, was content to shelter the nut in the spot where it had fallen. Within a short time, the nut burst open: Its roots reached in between the crevices of the stones and began to push them apart; its shoots pressed up toward the sky. They soon rose above the building, and as the twisted roots grew thicker they began to thrust the walls apart and force the ancient stones from their old places. Then the wall, too late and in vain, bewailed the cause of its destruction, and in short time it fell in ruin.

LEONARDO DA VINCI. 1452-1519

Ludwig was, in his own words, “bewitched” by Lola. He started to appear in public with her on his arm, and then he bought and furnished an apartment for her on one of Munich’s most fashionable boulevards. Although he had been known as a miser, and was not given to flights of fancy, he started to shower Lola with gifts and to write poetry for her. Now his favored mistress, she catapulted to fame and fortune overnight.

Lola began to lose her sense of proportion. One day when she was out riding, an elderly man rode ahead of her, a bit too slowly for her liking. Unable to pass him, she began to slash him with her riding crop. On another occasion she took her dog, unleashed, out for a stroll. The dog attacked a passerby, but instead of helping the man get the dog away, she whipped him with the leash. Incidents like this infuriated the stolid citizens of Bavaria, but Ludwig stood by Lola and even had her naturalized as a Bavarian citizen. The king’s entourage tried to wake him to the dangers of the affair, but those who criticized Lola were summarily fired.

In his own time Simon Thomas was a great doctor. I remember that I happened to meet him one day at the home of a rich old consumptive: He told his patient when discussing ways to cure him that one means was to provide occasions for me to enjoy his company: He could then fix his eyes on the freshness of my countenance and his thoughts on the overflowing cheerfulness and vigor of my young manhood; by filling all his senses with the flower of my youth his condition might improve. He forgot to add that mine might get worse.

MONTAIGNE, 1533-1592

While Bavarians who had loved their king now outwardly disrespected him, Lola was made a countess, had a new palace built for herself, and began to dabble in politics, advising Ludwig on policy. She was the most powerful force in the kingdom. Her influence in the king’s cabinet continued to grow, and she treated the other ministers with disdain. As a result, riots broke out throughout the realm. A once peaceful land was virtually in the grip of civil war, and students everywhere were chanting, “Raus mit Lola!”

Many things are said to be infectious. Sleepiness can be infectious, and yawning as well. In large-scale strategy when the enemy is agitated and shows an inclination to rush, do not mind in the least. Make a show of complete calmness, and the enemy will be taken by this and will become relaxed. You infect their spirit. You can infect them with a carefree, drunk-like spirit, with boredom, or even weakness.

A BOOK OF FIVE RINGS, MIYAMOTO MUSASHI, SEVENTEENTH CENTURY

By February of 1848, Ludwig was finally unable to withstand the pressure. With great sadness he ordered Lola to leave Bavaria immediately. She left, but not until she was paid off. For the next five weeks the Bavarians’ wrath was turned against their formerly beloved king. In March of that year he was forced to abdicate.

Lola Montez moved to England. More than anything she needed respectability, and despite being married (she still had not arranged a divorce from the Englishman she had wed years before), she set her sights on George Trafford Heald, a promising young army officer who was the son of an influential barrister. Although he was ten years younger than Lola, and could have chosen a wife among the prettiest and wealthiest young girls of English society, Heald fell under her spell. They were married in 1849. Soon arrested on the charge of bigamy, she skipped bail, and she and Heald made their way to Spain. They quarreled horribly and on one occasion Lola slashed him with a knife. Finally, she drove him away. Returning to England, he found he had lost his position in the army. Ostracized from English society, he moved to Portugal, where he lived in poverty. After a few months his short life ended in a boating accident.

A few years later the man who published Lola Montez’s autobiography went bankrupt.

In 1853 Lola moved to California, where she met and married a man named Pat Hull. Their relationship was as stormy as all the others, and she left Hull for another man. He took to drink and fell into a deep depression that lasted until he died, four years later, still a relatively young man.

At the age of forty-one, Lola gave away her clothes and finery and turned to God. She toured America, lecturing on religious topics, dressed in white and wearing a halo-like white headgear. She died two years later, in 1861.

Regard no foolish man as cultured, though you may reckon a gifted man as wise; and esteem no ignorant abstainer a true ascetic. Do not consort with fools, especially those who consider themselves wise. And be not self-satisfied with your own ignorance. Let your intercourse be only with men of good repute: for it is by such association that men themselves attain to good repute. Do you not observe how sesame-oil is mingled with roses or violets and how, when it has been for some time in association with roses or violets, it ceases to he sesame-oil and is called oil of roses or oil of violets?

A MIRROR FOR PRINCES. KAI KAUS IBN ISKANDAR. ELEVENTH CENTURY

Interpretation

Lola Montez attracted men with her wiles, but her power over them went beyond the sexual. It was through the force of her character that she kept her lovers enthralled. Men were sucked into the maelstrom she churned up around her. They felt confused, upset, but the strength of the emotions she stirred also made them feel more alive.

As is often the case with infection, the problems would only arise over time. Lola’s inherent instability would begin to get under her lovers’ skin. They would find themselves drawn into her problems, but their emotional attachment to her would make them want to help her. This was the crucial point of the disease—for Lola Montez could not be helped. Her problems were too deep. Once the lover identified with them, he was lost. He would find himself embroiled in quarrels. The infection would spread to his family and friends, or, in the case of Ludwig, to an entire nation. The only solution would be to cut her off, or suffer an eventual collapse.

The infecting-character type is not restricted to women; it has nothing to do with gender. It stems from an inward instability that radiates outward, drawing disaster upon itself. There is almost a desire to destroy and unsettle. You could spend a lifetime studying the pathology of infecting characters, but don’t waste your time—just learn the lesson. When you suspect you are in the presence of an infector, don’t argue, don’t try to help, don’t pass the person on to your friends, or you will become enmeshed. Flee the infector’s presence or suffer the consequences.

Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look. He thinks too much.... I do not know the man I should avoid so soon as that spare Cassius.... Such men as he be never at heart’s ease whiles they behold a greater than themselves, and therefore are they very dangerous.

Julius Caesar, William Shakespeare. 1564-1616

KEYS TO POWER

Those misfortunates among us who have been brought down by circumstances beyond their control deserve all the help and sympathy we can give them. But there are others who are not born to misfortune or unhappiness, but who draw it upon themselves by their destructive actions and unsettling effect on others. It would be a great thing if we could raise them up, change their patterns, but more often than not it is their patterns that end up getting inside and changing us. The reason is simple—humans are extremely susceptible to the moods, emotions, and even the ways of thinking of those with whom they spend their time.

The incurably unhappy and unstable have a particularly strong infecting power because their characters and emotions are so intense. They often present themselves as victims, making it difficult, at first, to see their miseries as self-inflicted. Before you realize the real nature of their problems you have been infected by them.

Understand this: In the game of power, the people you associate with are critical. The risk of associating with infectors is that you will waste valuable time and energy trying to free yourself. Through a kind of guilt by association, you will also suffer in the eyes of others. Never underestimate the dangers of infection.

There are many kinds of infector to be aware of, but one of the most insidious is the sufferer from chronic dissatisfaction. Cassius, the Roman conspirator against Julius Caesar, had the discontent that comes from deep envy. He simply could not endure the presence of anyone of greater talent. Probably because Caesar sensed the man’s interminable sourness, he passed him up for the position of first praetorship, and gave the position to Brutus instead. Cassius brooded and brooded, his hatred for Caesar becoming patliological. Brutus himself, a devoted republican, disliked Caesar’s dictatorship; had he had the patience to wait, he would have become the first man in Rome after Caesar’s death, and could have undone the evil that the leader had wrought. But Cassius infected him with his own rancor, bending his ear daily with tales of Caesar’s evil. He finally won Brutus over to the conspiracy. It was the beginning of a great tragedy. How many misfortunes could have been avoided had Brutus learned to fear the power of infection.

There is only one solution to infection: quarantine. But by the time you recognize the problem it is often too late. A Lola Montez overwhelms you with her forceful personality. Cassius intrigues you with his confiding nature and the depth of his feelings. How can you protect yourself against such insidious viruses? The answer lies in judging people on the effects they have on the world and not on the reasons they give for their prob-Image: A Virus. Unseen, it lems. Infectors can be recognized by the misfortune they draw on them-enters your pores without selves, their turbulent past, their long line of broken relationships, their un-warning, spreading silently and stable careers, and the very force of their character, which sweeps you up slowly. Before you are aware of and makes you lose your reason. Be forewarned by these signs of an infec the infection, it is deep inside you. tor; learn to see the discontent in their eye. Most important of all, do not take pity. Do not enmesh yourself in trying to help. The infector will remain unchanged, but you will be unhinged.

The other side of infection is equally valid, and perhaps more readily understood: There are people who attract happiness to themselves by their good cheer, natural buoyancy, and intelligence. They are a source of pleasure, and you must associate with them to share in the prosperity they draw upon themselves.

This applies to more than good cheer and success: All positive qualities can infect us. Talleyrand had many strange and intimidating traits, but most agreed that he surpassed all Frenchmen in graciousness, aristocratic charm, and wit. Indeed he came from one of the oldest noble families in the country, and despite his belief in democracy and the French Republic, he retained his courtly manners. His contemporary Napoleon was in many ways the opposite—a peasant from Corsica, taciturn and ungracious, even violent.

There was no one Napoleon admired more than Talleyrand. He envied his minister’s way with people, his wit and his ability to charm women, and as best he could, he kept Talleyrand around him, hoping to soak up the culture he lacked. There is no doubt that Napoleon changed as his rule continued. Many of the rough edges were smoothed by his constant association with Talleyrand.

Use the positive side of this emotional osmosis to advantage. If, for example, you are miserly by nature, you will never go beyond a certain limit; only generous souls attain greatness. Associate with the generous, then, and they will infect you, opening up everything that is tight and restricted in you. If you are gloomy, gravitate to the cheerful. If you are prone to isolation, force yourself to befriend the gregarious. Never associate with those who share your defects—they will reinforce everything that holds you back. Only create associations with positive affinities. Make this a rule of life and you will benefit more than from all the therapy in the world.

Authority: Recognize the fortunate so that you may choose their company, and the unfortunate so that you may avoid them. Misfortune is usually the crime of folly, and among those who suffer from it there is no malady more contagious: Never open your door to the least of misfortunes, for, if you do, many others will follow in its train.... Do not die of another’s misery. (Baltasar Gracián, 1601-1658)

REVERSAL

This law admits of no reversal. Its application is universal. There is nothing to be gained by associating with those who infect you with their misery; there is only power and good fortune to be obtained by associating with the fortunate. Ignore this law at your peril.

#business #self-improvement #psychology #power #history

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jamlessness · 7 years

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first lady, one.

summary: y/n was the one of the finest of her school when it came to ice hockey and her fame spread for all the championship territory once she became the first girl to make it to the team in almost two decades. but what happens when she finds that she’s not called first lady just because of her skills? pairing: taehyung x reader word count: 3.1k content: kinda fluff, angst, mention of physical violence, high school!au, ice hockey!au

one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

The door set wide open made it easier to a helmet to be thrown across the locker room, compensating the turbulent flight by softly landing on a pile of towels on the farthest corner. Unfortunately, only the helmet had the chance of changing its previous mood: it didn’t take two seconds for you to stomp in, finding your balance over your blades at ease as you seemed to not get enough of cursing. Punches and kicks with no destiny keeping company to every word that left your mouth - 90% of those were profanities and the last 10% his name.

You finally took a seat when your head spinned around a thousand times in a nanosecond, allowing you to remember the known taste of anger and how it worked on you. It made you feel dizzy as hell and forget how to think, your whole being concentrating on what it felt, basically. The scenes from the past five minutes bombarding your brain and making your blood reach a whole new level of ebullition as you wore off your gear.

You had two older brothers. You grew up in the midst of boys - training with them, competing with them, being bullied by them. You kicked a couple of your friends’ exes. You were the first girl to join your school’s ice hockey team and national championship in 20 years - which costed you the amusing nickname of First Lady. None of those were easy, but you did it. You didn’t need anyone to fight for you, you found yourself even with the best fighters of the country. You never backed up a fight and rare were the cases where you lost, not just for skills you got through the years but also for your stubbornness, everybody knew that. So it wasn’t much of a surprise when, by the start of the third period, you dropped gloves with the opponent’s left wing, whose cockiness during the whole game was honestly pissing you off.

You heard the encouraging words coming from your team’s bench and your school mates as you swung away from his punches, connecting a few on him yourself. The referees interrupted once you made his back hit the ice, a grin spreading all over your face - the first lady had another win.

It wasn’t just for yourself though. Because of your fight, now your team got all fired up and you couldn’t stop smiling as you heard that Jungkook kept fueling the fire by yelling, which made you feel proud of the team’s prodigy and your personal apprentice. He was learning fast how to keep his hyungs on track, which was good considering that it was your last season and someone had to fill up that place. But it didn’t last long and before you reached the penalty box to get your 2 minutes punishment, you found out why:

Kim Taehyung, your captain, exchanging extremely bad calculated punches with the opponent school’s captain.

You couldn’t move any more as you tried to process what happened - which took you no longer than two seconds. The next minutes flew by in a sequence of actions that surprised everyone on the building: you got yourself in another fight while screaming at the top of your lungs that your teammates shouldn’t get involved, almost pleading for them to not start a brawl and tried to save your captain’s ass from a further penalty, but all he could do was to start over and over to fight with the very same guy. Every. Single. Time.

Once you got officially suspended, being forbidden of coming back for that game, you rushed over the locker room to take all that frustration from your chest and throw it somewhere else. You haven’t stopped cursed your captain just yet, being that one of the few moments you questioned his ability to lead the team. You already had won the fight, you already had fired up the team, why the hell did he had to do that? It wasn’t the first time he couldn’t mind his business and just stay out.

For countless times, he showed up at the wrong moment to only make things worst - that meaning to piss you off. He silently offered you a protection you didn’t need, putting his finger in situations you had already taken care of. The main reason wasn’t really clear to you but it seemed to stay between you being a girl or him being friends with your brother, Yoongi. Either way, it still drove you nuts the fact he couldn’t just leave it alone and see you the way everyone else did: the girl who could kick some ass.

You cursed again, hearing footsteps by the entrance and it didn’t surprise you to see his nose bleeding as he slowly walked in. He wasn’t much of a fist fighter anyways and it just added another point to your argument. You couldn’t help but chuckle once he sighed, taking his usual place across from yours as he undressed from his gear.

“Yeah, I’m pretty bad…” he smiled through his breathless words, which made you frown. What was he smiling for?

“And pretty dumb too.” you couldn’t help but say this right to his face and, as you expected, it only made him intensify the stare, as if asking for an explanation. “You know damn well what you did, capt’n.” the fact that you used the title made it pretty clear how pissed you were and he knew that. In fact, you even put some extra disdain there, getting raised eyebrows in response. “All you had to do was to rule the game as much as you could, not revive a fight that was already done! You just got to spill some blood and get everyone worried instead...” the last part came out in a sigh, in such a softer tone as your frustration grew. How were the boys supposed to focus now? It was such a new, young team and you knew how much they tend to rely on the both of you much more than the other seniors.

“Is that supposed to make me regret?” Taehyung seemed to really find it weird and it made you glare at him.

“Are you telling me you don’t?”

“Why would I?” he spoke back as fast as you. Your eyes widened by his response, questioning even harder why there was a C sewed to his chest.

“You’re supposed to!”

“Your point being?”

You could feel the words on the tip of your tongue but they didn’t come out just yet since the assistant coach made his presence known by his characteristic whining coming from the hallway. It confused the both of you the fact that he didn’t enter the locker room, passing straight through it.

The silence reigned for the next couple minutes, leaving the both of you to your own thoughts. You just couldn’t understand what was the matter with Taehyung. Had he gone crazy? As for the captain, he couldn’t stop thinking about when would you realize what was going on. For what he knew, it was pretty obvious for the last year, at least.

The nerves and adrenaline finally settled down making the both of you start to feel some spots more sensitive than others. An usual pain on your knuckles made you smile, staring at the reminder of a good fight but a sneeze followed grunt coming from the other side of the locker room caught your eye. Soon, you were staring at your captain that tried to touch his nose with his face frowned. You sighed and got up without thinking too much, quickly reaching for a towel and heading towards him after wetting it with warm water.

In a few, you were standing in front of him, holding his chin up and being the main focus of a stare that made you tremble from head to toe. Too close, your mind kept telling you. You decided to just focus on what you were supposed to do: clean the trails of blood that could be found in some spots of his face.

“Why did you do it this time?” you asked in a low tone, focused on your task.

“Why do you think?” Taehyung snapped back with his deep, calm voice and once again you were ignoring a reaction your body had for the lack of distance between the both of you - the closeness of his voice sent shivers down your spine. In order to keep ignoring that, you couldn’t help but notice the purple circle on his bottom lip.

“I don’t know.” you shrugged, slipping the towel over a blood stain by the edge of his lips. “Maybe you can’t take the fact that the best fighter on the team is a girl…” you smiled shyly once you realize your attempt to light up the mood actually worked, since the captain was rolling his eyes. It was probably offensive for some of the other guys, but it always worked with him.

“Yeah, right…”

“Why did you do it, Kim?” you insisted in a more friendly way and it was his turn to shrug.

“For the same reason you did it. I couldn’t take his trash talk anymore.” immediately, you stepped back, sharping your eyes at him. You couldn’t remember a single time where you heard the other captain trash talking.

“What did he say?” once more, Taehyung just shrugged.

“Stuff.”

“Be more specific.”

“Shitty stuff.”

You closed your eyes, inhaling slowly in order to not get pissed again. You had a hard time finding words in your mind that weren’t censored before opening your eyes again.

“So you left the kids insecure for nothing?” it was pretty clear you were talking about your juniors and all the concerned looks on their eyes the moment they realized what was happening - that none of you would be back in the ice for that day.

“No, I didn’t.” he said, firmly and you pointed at him. But before you could speak, he did: “I had reasons, Min.” you could see the captain taking place over Taehyung. How firm his voice and expressions were, how he didn’t waste a word, choosing to speak just the strictly necessary for the moment.

“What goddamn reasons were those to throw an ice bucket over your own team?” by now, you couldn’t keep your hands in place, shaking them frivolously in the air, according to your rising tone.

“I had reasons.” he repeated. “And that’s all you need to know.”

You couldn’t hold back a grunt, stepping away from him. You tried. You really tried to not get angry at him but he made it impossible. You were using your last drop of will power to step away from your captain so you wouldn’t hit him in the face, which, for the record, was damn hard once it was clear to you that he sabotaged his own team. The fact that he remained calm and never let his posture down only made you angrier.

But before you could even think about another way to kill Taehyung, a wide grinning and happy Jungkook entered the locker room with a few parts of his gears missing. Your eyes couldn’t wide some more so you just stood there, staring at him as he made his way to sit beside his captain, his smile untouched.

“What’s that?” Taehyung asked, holding back a smile himself. It was a known fact that Jungkook had a contagious smile.

“I took care of him, capt’n.” he said, happily and you blinked.

“Took care of who?” you asked, trying to understand that whole nonsense. Jungkook looked your way, smiling bigger.

“The disrespectful bastard!”

“Jeon…” Taehyung called, getting an apologetic look from the youngster as your stepped closer, still not understanding what was going on.

“Care to explain?” you asked once you stood in front of him and you could see the captain about to protest, but you were faster: “Eyes on me, Kook, start talking.” you crossed your arms, knowing exactly how to look more intimidating than Taehyung could ever be. The slight glance Jungkook sent his captain told you who won.

“He said nasty stuff about you, noona…” he seemed to think before every word, not really able to hold a stare with you. By his side, Taehyung just sighed, laying until his back reached the wall. “Like, really nasty stuff…” he motioned his hands, making you frown some more. “We both know hyung isn’t really one for fighting, but it doesn’t mean he could just leave that jerk talk shit about his first lad-”

“Ok, Jungkook, that’s enough.” Taehyung cut him off but you knew exactly where that was leading to. You couldn’t help but to stare at the captain that had the top of his cheeks painted of pink. Meanwhile, Jungkook could swear you eyes would come out.

“Whose first lady?” you asked, your head going round and round with the bazillion thoughts that crossed it as your eyes chased Taehyung’s that didn’t dare to look at you.

“Wait, so you didn't know?” Jungkook was breathing disbelief as he kept on looking from his captain to you and all the way back, doing the maths for that reaction in his head. The fact that your eyes were still wide open made it pretty clear that you had no idea of where that came from. “So I just ruined everything?” his voice cracked a little, regret written all over his face but before you could even contest, Taehyung gave him a reassuring smile.

“Calm down, Kookie.” his serenity flowed naturally as he stared at his junior, making everything in his power to be actually able to demonstrate he had reason to worry.

“This is all sweet and stuff but explain me, would you?” your voice was high pitched and it put a smile on the captain's face before staring back at you.

“Do you know how cute it is that you're completely clueless?” you couldn't tell if you were blushing from anger or embarrassment by how sincere Taehyung statement was, but probably both. “Cute and frustrating as hell...” he chuckled, forcing you to hold back on your heels as your body reacted again to Taehyung. You wished you could say you were growing tired of it.

“His first lady, you said.” you decided to take control by pointing at Jungkook, that seemed quite surprised for the fact you pulled him back to the conversation. “Why would you say that?” you demanded and he looked for his captain for permission, which was conceded.

“For what I know, that's why they started calling you that in first place...” Jungkook kept his eyes on the floor, kind of fearing what he would find in your eyes if he stared at you. “Because you made it to the team on the same year and, you know, he became captain and you became famous and basically every guy that asked him about you saw how just to mention you affected him an-” he held himself once again, looking at Taehyung to see if he was talking too much but the calm smile was still placed on the captain's lips. You, on the other hand, couldn't look more furious.

“He told them I was his?” every nerve on your body made it clear how it felt about it once you spoke those words. You were avoiding the confront, avoiding to stare at him and even avoiding that your body could face his way. You gulped in order to cover it up, praying that none of them noticed. You just had no idea how Taehyung actually did - nor how much he liked it.

“No, no, no!” Jungkook quickly shook his hands. “That's not what I heard! They assumed it by the way he reacted because, for goodness sake, it's just too obvious!” he giggled, letting himself look at his captain once again but the moment he turned back at you, he went back to seriousness. You didn't seem amused at all. “Let's make it clear: he never said you were his, ok?” he bulged his eyes, using his hands in the most serious and adult way he knew as looked any other place to stare at. “But I can't tell you how much he wants to be able to say that an-”

“Are you seriously letting the kid confess in your place?” you mumbled, still not daring to stare at none of them and Taehyung's amusement was pretty clear by the way his lips arched a little bit more.

“Stating facts is not confessing.” he said simply, the grin fell out from his lips but by a glance you could still see it in his eyes. “Believe me, you won't be able to hold yourself back when I do it.” his confidence was doing something to you in such a way that you could only describe as poisoning. To cover up, you rolled your eyes, shaking your head in the process.

“You said you took care of him, right?” you stared back at Jungkook, startled by the change of subject but still nodded. “How exactly did you do it?”

“I really wanted to try a puck to face* (literally, when a puck hits you in the face), but I don't really see any of you approving it so I just gave him the hit.” he shrugged, a small smiling creeping by the edge of his lips once he was done speaking.

“The hit?” you repeated and he shook his head slightly.

“No, noona. Not the hit. The hit.” his eyes sparkled as he spoke that and it was funny to consider that you could see yourself in him. No wonder he was your personal apprentice, even if you played on a different position. Both of you tended to think the same way on ice.

“Did you guys get insecure by any chance?” you felt the teasing on every word that left Taehyung's lips and it made you hold back a curse just because it wasn't one of the things you're supposed to do in front of a junior.

“Are you kidding me? After that party you guys made back there the speed went crazy! It felt like a pro game!” Taehyung’s eyes flew in your direction once those words were spoken and you wanted to make it really clear how much you were cursing him on your mind right now, but you weren’t able to hold a stare.

“Oh, really?”

“Now that I’m all aware, it’s time to excuse myself and hit the showers.” you waved them bye without directly staring at them, ready to turn on your heel when you heard his voice:

“What exactly are you aware of, first lady?”

You took a deep breath before stepping away, grabbing your bag and leaving the locker room. You tried to keep yourself on track even if you had to slap yourself once you were away from any eye to see.

But still, you felt it.

As much as it hurt your pride, it was pretty clear that, if you kept that pace, it wouldn’t take long for you to admit it.

Kim Taehyung’s first lady.

#taehyung scenario #taehyung imagine #kim taehyung #taehyung #bts v #v bts #bts scenario #bts scenarios #v scenarios #v scenario #boo writes

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femnet · 5 years

Photo

Trigger Warnings: child abuse, sexual abuse, incest, rape, explicit sexual content involving minors, physical abuse, explicit language, abortion, pregnancy

This is NOT spoiler free but to be honest I suggest reading a summary before listening to the musical anyways.

Spring Awakening first entered the world in 1891 when it was published by German playwright Frank Wedekind. At that point, it was different than the Broadway musical that is known and loved today. It was a play rather than a musical. THE scene (which I will discuss later) had previously been a rape instead of a passionate night with explicit consent. Of course, it was in German and would not be performed in English until 1917. However, despite it being over a century old, going through many revisions and revivals, and containing very controversial issues and visuals, Spring Awakening still has lessons to share with each new generation that watches it.

For the purpose of this post, I’ll be discussing the 2006 Broadway version unless specifically stated otherwise.

The Plot

The plot of Spring Awakening can be summarized in two main points: 1) ignorance and miseducation are dangerous and 2) every generation learns from and improves on what the previous generation teaches them. It’s set in Germany in the 1890s. As you can imagine, what is acceptable today is NOT the same as what was acceptable back then. But, WAIT! Theres’s more. You might have already started thinking about what a musical set in the 1890s would sound like. If so, I promise whatever you thought it was going to be is wrong. Duncan Sheik and Steven Sater collaborated to turn the play into a ROCK MUSICAL. While rock had yet to be invented during the time the play is set and was published, Melchior and the other little rebels would definitely have been rock fans were they born in the right time period. From here onwards, I’ll be discussing the 2006 Broadway version unless stated otherwise.

The opening songs introduce us to the main cast of characters. In the opening number, Mama Who Bore Me, Wendla Bergmann (played by Lea Michele in the Original Broadway Cast) makes her first appearance as the leading lady. She sings about how her mother has left her unprepared by not properly explaining the things she needs to know going into puberty and her teenage years. This is followed by a reprise where the other young girls join in and repeat Wendla’s sentiments. All of the girls have been told by their mothers that a woman gets pregnant by loving her husband very much. This misinformation leaves the girls vulnerable as they start to experience their spring (sexual) awakenings. As you can probably guess, this is also foreshadowing what will happen in the future. On the male side of things, we meet Melchior Gabor (played by Jonathan Groff in the OBC) and Moritz Stiefel (played by John Gallagher, Jr. in the OBC) along with their various classmates as they sing about their own struggles with these new feelings in The B*tch of Living.

Melchior and Moritz are best friends but very different. Melchior is a rebellious child who speaks his mind and constantly gets in trouble at school even though he has good grades. Moritz, despite trying his best, can’t seem to keep his grades up. This situation is further complicated as Moritz asks Melchior for help concerning a steamy dream that’s been bothering him, including writing an essay explaining these new feelings he’s been having.

The only child who knows what’s up is Melchior, because he has gathered his own sex ed knowledge by reading books. However, even though what Melchior knows is what all of the other kids should know, the topics he tries to discuss with the boys are incredibly taboo and are completely banned from conversation in school or, well, anywhere. The grown ups in this story are basically orchestrating a cover up of many critical issues of adolescence, and this causes Melchior to doubt many aspects of his education and how he’s being raised. He sings about his frustration with this in a song called All That’s Known.

The steaminess increases as all the children struggle with their feelings for each other, especially with Melchior and Wendla. Long story short, the two find themselves growing closer and closer in a new way (*wink wink*) which brings us to THE scene. Do keep in mind as I tell this tale that all of these kids would be about 13 even though they’re played by adults. Part of why Spring Awakening is so controversial is that even on Broadway it has scenes of partial and sometimes full nudity. Anyways, Wendla finds Melchior in a barn. He apologizes for a previous encounter which I will not explain and bow-chicka-wow-wow they kiss and then have sexy times. The song playing over this scene is I Believe. If you listen to it on its own, it sounds like something you would hear in church.

There’s also a subplot going on with the girls. Martha, a friend of Wendla’s, reveals in The Dark I Know Well that her father has been abusing her for the past few years. She feels as though she can’t do anything about it because her mother either doesn’t care or ignores it, and she doesn’t want to end up like the wandering girl Ilse. Ilse had been in the same situation and chose to stand up for herself. This had led to her getting kicked out of the village, and she had been an outcast ever since.

While all of this is going on, poor Moritz has been failed by his teachers even though for once he passed his exam. They tell him that only a certain number of students can move up in school and he is not one of them, even though this is a lie. Moritz’s home life is wrecked because his parents don’t want to be known as parents of a failure. He is eventually kicked out after Melchior’s mother denies him the money needed to flee to the United States (And Then There Were None). He begins to wander around with a gun, contemplating suicide, but runs into Ilse. She asks him to come stay with her in the artists’s colony she has recently started living in. Moritz refuses at first, but then realizes that Ilse is his final chance at a life. When he returns to find her, she is gone and he shoots himself.

Moritz’s teachers quickly realize that his death was their fault. Had they not lied, Moritz would have moved up with the other boys, his family would not have neglected and abused him, and he would still have had a home. To push the blame onto someone else, they use the essay that Melchior wrote for Moritz to frame him for causing Moritz to commit suicide. He is immediately expelled and discusses his fate in a wonderful song called Totally F*cked.

Things go down hill even faster from here. Wendla begins to feel ill and when her mother takes her to the doctor, they learn that she’s pregnant. She’s forced to give up Melchior as the father and her mother curses her for being so stupid even though Wendla had no idea that sex was the cause of pregnancy. However, Wendla does want to keep the baby after much thought (Whispering). With Moritz’s suicide and Wendla’s pregnancy marking Melchior as a problem child, his parents send him away to a reform school WITHOUT telling him about Wendla’s pregnancy. He only finds out about it when another boy steals a letter from her and reads it aloud.

Melchior immediately runs away from school to find Wendla. He stops by Moritz’s grave to promise that he and Wendla will raise their child well and always make sure that he or she is loved. Despite the fact that he’s a child in all of this, I have to say that I really appreciate that Melchior steps up to his role as a father and learns from the mistakes of the past generation. It was an awfully brave thing for him to do. HOWEVER, when he arrives at the cemetery he also notices a fresh grave that he had never seen before… and upon further inspection, he finds that it is Wendla’s. Her mother had taken her to see an abortionist. At that time, abortionists had no real training and as was the fate of many other patients, Wendla dies from complications.

At this point, Melchior feels as though he has nothing left. He pulls out a blade and goes to cut his throat when suddenly the spirits of Moritz and Wendla rise from their graves and encourage him to go on living for them (Those You’ve Known). Melchior finally promises that he will and is revived by a new sense of hope. He knows that no matter what, Moritz and Wendla, his two favorite people, will always be with him.

The Song of Purple Summer is the final song in Spring Awakening. All of the cast returns to the front of the stage to sing about the future. It talks about how the next generation will learn from the previous generation’s mistakes and how even though the present might be a tragedy, the future will not be. It is perhaps the most motivational song of the play and despite the sad ending of the story, The Song of Purple Summer ends things on a happy note.

The Lessons

Perhaps on of the biggest lessons to be learned from this story is that miseducation and lying can cause extreme damage. By lying to their children, the mothers of the girls caused their daughters to be ignorant of what their new feelings meant but also what would happen if they acted on these feelings before they were actually ready for the consequences. This leads to Wendla’s pregnancy and eventually her death. What breaks my heart most of all is that Wendla could never have known that would happen when she had sex with Melchior. To her, the act was one of love and had no consequences. Yet her mother blames her instead of admitting that she made a mistake by leaving her daughter ignorant. What one generation thought of as taboo and unacceptable in any time or place was actually vital to the lives of another. No matter how tough a topic is, if something needs to be discussed then it needs to be discussed sooner rather than later.

When I presented this musical in my music appreciation class, I was tasked with identifying the antagonist of the story. After thinking about it, I realized that there isn’t just one specific antagonist - the antagonists are all of the adults. Every adult wrongs a child in some way or another, and this leads to the tragedy in the end. The girls’ mothers don’t properly educate them. The teachers cause Moritz’s suicide even though they could have actually let him advance in school. Melchior’s mother doesn’t take Moritz’s threat of suicide as seriously as she should and denies him the money he needs. Moritz’s parents are selfish and care more about their image than their own son. They neglect him, abuse him, and kick him out rather than supporting him when he needed them the most. Martha and Ilse’s fathers abuse them, and their mothers don’t do anything about it. When Ilse does try to seek help, she is kicked out on the streets. Instead of helping her daughter in a time of need and admitting her mistake, Wendla’s mother blames her for something she could have never predicted and puts her through the procedure that kills her while knowing the conditions it would be under. To me, the lesson from this is that even though adults are supposed to have more experience and that we as young people are supposed to trust them, they are not always good, trustworthy, or reliable; in this case, sometimes it’s your own parents.

Despite the deaths of the people he loved most and his life falling apart around him, Melchior chooses to live in their honor and remember their lives by living for them. He chooses to believe that his loved ones will always be with him and becomes all the better for it. No matter what, he’s not alone. None of us are alone. We don’t know what happens to him in the end, but I like to think that he becomes a great man and a great father. He certainly deserves it.

Finally, with The Song of Purple Summer, we are reminded that we must always learn and move forward. From generation to generation, we pass on our mistakes and our successes and hope that the next one will learn from both. Even when we’re experiencing a tragedy, hope is always there to remind us that better things have yet to come.

My lesson to all of you readers is that you should definitely listen to this musical! You can find some videos on YouTube or check it out on Spotify. Now that you’ve got a run down of the plot, it’s time to experience it for yourself!

Sources

https://musicalstagecompany.com/musical-notes/all-thats-known-facts-about-spring-awakening/

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spring_Awakening_(musical)

http://www.playbill.com/article/from-the-archives-jonathan-groff-lea-michele-and-john-gallagher-jr-of-spring-awakening-reflect-on-surreal-success-com-361392

https://www.ibdb.com/broadway-production/spring-awakening-448811

http://broadwaymusicalhome.com/shows/springawakening.htm

#spring awakening #jonathan groff #lea michele #john gallagher jr.#broadway #pop culture #sex ed #family #mental health #education #books & writing #love and sexuality #by jess #march 2019

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imgilmoregirl · 7 years

Text

Vowed For Eternity (Chapter 6)

AO3 Link

Trust Above All

When Belle woke up that morning, she was feeling the effects of the night before. She grunted, tired and sore, but sat on the bed seeing that the breakfast was served and the door of the bathroom opened, a clear invite for a bath, which she had to admit that she needed.

Stretching herself, Belle slid from the bed, her eyes landing on the potion that was still in the same place she left it on the nightstand, completely untouched. She swallowed, asking herself which might be the contents of it. A potion for the pain in her body maybe, but maybe some kind of poison. It was ridiculous that even after last night, she couldn't fully trust in her husband, but Belle didn't, because he might have opened up for her a little, but he still wasn't totally honest with her; she knew that he still had some secrets of his own, otherwise he would already have freed her from this tower.

Decided to choose her own fate, Belle grabbed the little bottle and picked a gown, going straight to her filled bathtub and cleaning herself. When she was done, Belle got out and picked the bottle again, pouring the potion inside the bathtub just a few seconds before the water disappeared with magic, taking it too. She had no idea of what kind of drink she had just thrown to waste, but she'd rather be safe than sorry.

The girl dressed herself and sat to eat her breakfast, staring at the mountains outside her window. There was a small road between the woods and sometimes she would look at the carriages passing through, wondering where they were going to. That's what she did that morning, keeping watching it distracted, while her mind revived every detail of the night before, the remembrance of her husband's tender touches making her shiver.

She took a sip of her tea and finished her piece of cake, sighing and trying to convince herself to go down the library, when a pair of hands came to rest on her shoulders and she jumped in place, before turning around to see the Dark One.

"Rumple!" She screamed. "You almost scared me to death!"

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to see if you were alright."

A smile stretched in her lips as Belle rose from the chair, unsure of what she was allowed to do with him now and what she still wasn't. It didn't help that he kept standing still in there.

"I am," Belle said. "But, this is new, you never come here in the morning."

He lifted a hand, brushing his knuckles on her cheek as she closed her eyes, imagining that there was nothing wrong with their relationship, that they were just two ordinary people that loved each other truly and immensely. Belle wished that she could lean closer to him, reach for his lips and tell the imp about how amazing it felt to be in his arms, however when he started to speak again, she remembered of how complicated things were.

"Did you drink the potion I gave you?" Rumplestiltskin asked.

Her eyes flew open and Belle's heart attempted to stop. She had never been a liar, but in that moment, she had no other option but to hid her earlier actions from him, because Belle was really afraid of how much the truth would anger her husband. And it all as partially his fault; she would have taken the potion if he just cared to tell her what was it about.

"Every drop of it," the girl assured with a grin.

"Good," he nodded. "Listen, I brought something important for you."

Waving his hand, the Dark One made a silver piece appear in his hand, hanging from a leather cord.

"Mm, another necklace. It's pretty."

"I will take you out to see the rest of the castle today - " Rumple started placing the necklace around her throat and lifting her hair to accommodate it.

Belle, however wasn't paying much attention to his actions, as his words astonished her. Had she heard it right? He was truly freeing her?

"Will you?"

"But you may keep this necklace on all the time," he continued as if she hadn't said a thing. "You shall never take it off when you're outside these chambers."

"Why?"

"Because I'm telling you so," Rumplestiltskin answered coldly. Then, he seemed to realise how mean he had sounded and took a longer breath, trying to calm himself. "Belle, if things are to work between you and I, you must stop asking so many questions. Everything I'm doing is for your protection, just believe it."

Absentmindedly, she touched the new silver pendant, knowing that the day had barely begun and she had already proved how much she didn't trust him twice. But Belle couldn't help herself, it was all so frustrating and the fact that Rumple kept being so mysterious and secretive only angered her.

"Alright," she agreed, still unsatisfied.

"Follow me," he smirked, enlacing his fingers on hers and making his magic unlock the door for them.

The feeling of mistrust vanished from her as soon as Belle stepped out of her chambers, taking the stairs down. There were some closed doors in the floor beneath and even more in the next one, and she tried not to ask Rumple about what was kept inside those rooms, instead she just kept going down until they reached what she thought to be the castle's great hall. Another opening was set in the opposite side of it and two big pairs of double doors were placed at their front and at their behind.

A little squeal left her lips when the doors next to them opened with magic, showing one of the most beautiful places in the castle. The walls were red, there were huge curtains hanging in front of the large windows, a big wooden table was placed in the centre and a lot of different objects were carefully set in showcases.

"I can't believe I'm doing this. I never thought I would truly leave that tower," the girl said, cheerfully.

Behind her, Rumplestiltskin chuckled, smoothing her back gently as he explained: "This is the dining hall, some of the relics I've collected during my travels, are around here."

"Oh, this is all so exciting!"

She started to walk around the hall, passing her fingers through some of the objects she could reach, like a pair of wands and two of the ugliest puppets she had ever seen. Belle kept exploring, marvelled with each new discovery while the Dark One watched her in an astonished silence, until she stopped beside one of the most interesting things she had found there.

"The spinning wheel..." Belle muttered, lifting her glance to her husband. "Is it really enchanted?"

"No," he shooked his head. "Who said it was?"

"The maids in my father's castle. They whispered about how you put a spell on it, so you could spin straw into gold."

"They clearly don't know a thing," he laughed slightly, walking towards her. "The wheel is a common one and I could spin gold in any other. Magic just happens because I use it."

"Can you show me?"

Nodding a little hesitantly, Rumplestiltskin bent to pick a piece of straw from the huge basket that was placed by the wheel's side. He sat in the little stool in front of it and started spinning, a new thread made of gold falling to the floor.

"That's incredible," Belle said under her breath, causing him to smile and keep spinning to impress her, that watched with the same wide eyes, until the need of talking came to her again, because there were still a lot of things bothering her, that needed solid answers. "Can I ask you something?"

The imp immediately stopped what he was doing, to look at her with a little bit of annoyance. Belle thought that he would tell her to shut up again, but even against all odds, that was not what he did.

"Fine."

Belle slid to the stool by his side, groping at the blue fabric of her gown nervously.

"It's about last night. Did you - " she started a little unsure, a little afraid, but she banished her fears and asked anyway. "Did you like it?"

Blush came to her cheeks and she fixed her gaze on the wheel, but Rumplestiltskin grabbed her chin, between two fingers and very gently turned her face back to him.

"Of course, I did. It was wonderful for me, Belle," he guaranteed, before adding: "Was it good for you?"

"Yeah, I never thought it could feel like that."

Smirking, he brought his lips to hers, brushing them very softly and letting his hands bring her closer as he kissed her with the same passion they did last night. But all too soon, he pulled away and stood up offering Belle a hand to help her rise up.

"Would you like to see the treasure room?"

"Show me," she smiled.

He took her through another door, that had access to the dining hall and this one lead to a large corridor, that opened in one of the sides to stairs that apparently lead to a new tower. The other side was empty, making the castle seem disproportionate. She followed Rumplestiltskin down anyway, being lead to the biggest of the rooms in there, in which a great number of things seemed to have been accumulated among the years.

Most of the objects Belle laid eyes on, were stranger for her and she bet that some of them were probably magical, but it only made her want to hear about each one. She thought that she could just sat in there, pointing things at Rumplestiltskin and listening as he told her the story behind those things.

"This is all yours," the Dark One declared as she looked around with excitement.

"Mine? What do you mean?"

The girl turned around, letting him grab her by the waist in a spontaneous way that was so unlike him that made her thought that maybe they were in fact doing some real progress in there.

"We are married, Belle, everything that is mine, it's yours. And now, we finally belong to each other too," Rumplestiltskin pointed out. "Last night we became husband and wife in all the senses that matters. Now, I want you to know that my house is yours too."

The biggest of the smiles stretched in her lips as Belle folded her arms behind his neck, letting him pull her up just enough so his mouth could find hers without any problems. Both of them were small people, but she was way smaller than and wearing flat shoes as she was now, instead of the high heels she usually wore, made her look even tinier.

Pursuing his lips, Belle melted against him, the feel of his hands running through her body lightening all her senses. They moved to a small cot in the corner of the room and she sat as he kneeled in front of her as they started to explore each other. She tried to kiss his neck to see if it had the same maddening effect it did when it was him who kissed and bit at hers, but it was even better than she expected, because he groaned and threw his head back, exposing his throat for her to kiss. His hands came up to her bodice, starting to unlace it as he pushed her back to the cot, hiking up her skirts and stroking her legs, before he lowered his trousers, setting himself free. Belle's lack of experience still bothered her a little and her insides still seemed to hurt a bit, but it was all very new and she needed to get used to it.

Rumplestiltskin had no hurry in taking her, he wanted to be sure that she would enjoy it. He adored every piece of his little wife, even though he didn't remove her clothes completely, afraid that she would ask him to bare himself for her too, in all the glory of the morning light, what he clearly was not comfortable to do; Rumple was still afraid that she would reject him if she got a better look at his full body. Their love-making was slower and greater than the night before, he slipped inside her and this time, there was no trace of pain in her beautiful face, only a soft expression of delight.

Belle kept her eyes open, attentively watching Rumple as he moved above, building that burning pleasure between her tights that made her nails dig into his scalp and her body tremble as they seek release. She moaned his name louder than she would ever want to admit that she did, but when Belle finally broke down with a cry of joy, she couldn't move herself to care about anything else, than both of them joined this way.

The girl petted Rumplestiltskin's hair, loving the sounds he made as he also finished himself, spurting warmness inside her, before he collapsed on top of Belle's petite form, panting on her neck.

Ages could have passed before they changed positions and she laid languidly with her head against his chest, fingers tracing the laces on the front of his waistcoat as her eyes wandered around the treasures, noticing the thin layer of dust in them.

"This place is in need of a cleaning," she murmured. "I could do it."

"Why?" Rumplestiltskin grumbled in a sleepy voice.

"Because that's what wives do."

"Peasants, you mean," he corrected her. "You're the Dark One's wife, you don't need to clean, magic can solve it."

Sitting up, Belle took her bodice from the floor and started to lace it up again. She casted her husband a stubborn glance as he watched her quietly.

"Rumple, I want to. It will be a good distraction for me."

He rolled his eyes, waving a hand a making a broom and a duster appear at her feet. "If you insist."

"Thank you!"

He stood up, straightening his clothes and helping her put herself back on her feet and it was only in that moment that Belle realised how much her legs were shaken.

"I don't know how you can think that this is a good distraction, but well, after all, you're mad."

"I'm not mad!"

"You laid with a monster and you said that you liked."

"I did," she agreed, blushing, knowing that she would never be able to look down at the cot behind her and not remember of what they had done in there. "Now, if you excuse me, I need to start cleaning."

Picking the broom and the duster, she tried to decided where she should start.

"Alright, I'll spin a little," Rumplestiltskin nodded and was already making his way to the door when he suddenly stopped and came back. "Belle?"

"Yeah?"

He gripped at her wrist and placed a small bottle in it, with the same yellow liquid from the night before. She swallowed, closing her fingers around it.

"For you," he said. "And, remember, don't take off the necklace."

As she watched him leave, Belle needed to sit down again, allowing some tears to fall silently from her eyes, because all her husband was asking for her was a little bit of trust and that, it seemed, she couldn't give him. The girl slid down the potion to a hidden pocket in her dress, knowing that later that day, when the bathtub filled itself with magic, she would drop its contents to the water and try to forget about that.

But, most important than any potion, was the fear that Rumplestiltskin seemed to feel of her taking off the new necklace he gave her and all her mind could do was to scream at her that there was definitely something wrong going on. He was probably trying to fool her or he would never demand things from Belle without even given her a small explanation. She didn't know what he was hiding yet, but she would find out, that she promised herself.

So, when Belle's fingers closed around the silver pendant, she had to be convince to not take it off immediately. But if not now, then in some better occasion she would, so she could see what happened and decide if Rumplestiltskin was really worth her trust, however for now, she would give herself the benefit of the doubt.

Rising on her feet, Belle started to clean the treasure room, but not even for a moment she truly concentrated in her new task.

#rumbelle fic #gift fic #mine #writing #rumplestiltskin #belle french #dark castle #ao3

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