#in the original stuff i did for this kevin had never managed to return to his true shape which added to the cautious bonding he and mike did | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nugnthopkns · 3 years

Text

felt the lightning under my skin

word count: 13.7k

warnings: explicit!fem reader, cursing, little bit of asshole joel, alcohol consumption, slight innuendo, moderate depiction of injury, needles

recommended listening: under the spell | springtime carnivore

a/n: i know figure skater/hockey player romances are terribly cliche but i couldn’t help myself. as an ex-skater hopefully i can make it a little less cringe. there’s probably an obscene amount of technical jargon in here and i sincerely apologize. the injury mentioned actually happened to me and let me tell you, it was not fun lmao. enjoy!

Joel swears he’s going to kill whoever’s in charge of renting out the practice facility.

Realistically, he knows it’s impossible. The rink can be rented by anyone when the Flyers aren’t using it and he typically thinks it’s a great way to promote ice sports in the community. Joel just wishes the facilities manager didn’t rent it out to figure skaters. They kick the shit out of the ice with their toe picks and leave the ice in terrible quality. It frustrates Joel because while community engagement is important, his career and the team take precedence.

No one else seems to be bothered by the recent decline in ice conditions. Most of his teammates are used to poor ice, growing up playing pond hockey and at rinks that also housed figure skating clubs. While Joel had those experiences as well, he clearly never developed the same nonchalance as everyone else. He complains in the dressing room after every practice until Kevin finally says something.

“Christ Beezer, relax. It’s only for another month or so until renovations at the other rink finish.”

Others chime in, telling him to not take it so seriously, with a couple of them defending the right of the other athletes to use the ice as they so please. The grief Joel catches is enough to shut him up, but he still stews privately over the fact figure skaters are destroying his happy place.

☼☼☼☼

You want nothing more than to return to your home rink. The Flyers Skate Zone has been nice, the staff are incredibly accommodating, but something feels off. You’re having a harder time landing jumps and skating clean programs. The change in routine is enough to knock you off your game, which is something you absolutely can’t have. You’re coming off a breakthrough season, finishing on the podium at nationals and landing a spot on your first world championships roster. People are expecting you to replicate your success and you want to do that and more.

US Figure Skating had taken a chance placing you on the national team for the current season. Though it was expected, they could have easily chosen the fourth place skater instead. She’s much younger than you, barely fifteen, and is yet to have a serious injury. At twenty you’re barely an adult, but this could be the last time you get an opportunity like this. The sport keeps getting younger and you’re going to get left behind if you don’t prove yourself. The grand prix circuit has been kind to you, allowing you to earn medals at some of the smaller competitions and hold your own against the big dogs in the majors like NHK Trophy.

☼☼☼☼

“Try the triple flip again,” Brenda, your coach, instructs. “You could be more solid on the landing.”

“It’s this fucking ice! I can do one at home that would get me a high GOE,” you complain.

She rolls her eyes and thinks about telling you off, but decides against it. No matter how many times she tells you it’s a mental block you need to get over, you find a way to blame the training facility. “Just give me five solid ones and we’ll call it quits.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes, but you peel away from the boards anyways. Some juniors are mingling in a corner and you warn them to watch out as you skate by gaining speed. The first attempt feels natural, and though you could have been a little stronger on the exit it’s a significant improvement from what you were doing earlier in the session. Jumps two and three also go well, but things go wrong on the fourth try. You catch a bad edge just before takeoff and aren’t able to correct your center of gravity while in the air. Two and a half rotations happen before you slam into the ground. The entire right side of your body feels like it’s been run over by a bus.

“Fuck!” you scream in frustration as you pick yourself up off the ice. Circling back to examine just how bad the edge was you notice your pick created much too large a hole, something you’d get points deducted for in competition. Brenda signals you over to her, and you hang your head as you skate over.

“You’re done,” she sighs. You can tell it pains her to see your progress plateau, but you’re doing everything you can to get out of this rut. Before you can protest, try to convince her to let you stay on, she’s speaking again. “Our ice time is up anyways. Go cool down and meet me in the conference room when you’re done.”

There’s nothing for you to do but sulk off the ice. The other skaters clear out of your way, not wanting to be on the receiving end of your anger. You direct it at the dressing room door, kicking it open so harshly it flies back on the hinges. It makes you feel a bit better but you’re still in a sour mood as you untie your skates. It’s frustrating not being able to perform at the level you know you can, even in practice. If you could just get out of this rink and back into the one you’re most comfortable at.

After a much longer stretching routine than normal, you pack up your bag and head upstairs for what will no doubt be one of those meetings where you sit silently and take the heat. You realize that your behaviour today was childish, but you couldn’t help but let your emotions overcome you. The next group is well into their ice time when you pass by, and you realize it’s the Flyers. Most of them don’t acknowledge you and keep running drills, but one who looks about your age is sending you daggers. You have no idea why.

The meeting goes much better than you thought it would. Brenda takes your anger in stride and lets you apologize for your outburst before shifting the conversation to altering your training plan. She suggests you take a few days off from the rink, working strictly off-ice, and you begrudgingly agree. There isn’t anything you can do or say to change her mind so you take the updated workout plans with a fake smile. She also tells you that your appointment with your sports psychologist has been moved up a couple of days, which you’re grateful for. Things then move to talking strategy and watching tape of competitors to see what to expect at this year’s nationals. The event is just over a month out, and you have the goal of landing on the podium once again, hopefully with the gold medal dangling around your neck.

A couple of hours pass with you holed up in the conference room, and it’s dark when you gather your stuff and head for home. The complex is deserted and you assume no one but the staff are still here. It turns out someone else was there, and they follow you out, their own gear bag slung over their shoulder. You don’t really pay them any mind, holding the door open out of habit, and fail to recognize the person as the boy who glared while you walked by hours prior. He notices you, however, and makes a point to voice his distaste.

“Hey!” he calls out, “Next time you eat shit don’t put such a big hole in the ice. Other people need it too.”

“Get fucked,” you yell back. You really don’t have the time or energy to be accosted by a hockey player. He continues to talk, but you don’t hear it because you slam your car door shut and drive off into the darkness.

☼☼☼☼

Joel doesn’t feel like he was in the wrong until Claude suggests he apologize a few days later. In his mind, he has every right to be upset about you damaging the ice because it directly affected him. The hole you caused couldn’t be fully repaired, and he tripped at a really key moment during the scrimmage. His bad day was your fault.

“You can’t blame a tough practice on her man,” Claude says as the two of them skate a few warm-up laps. “She didn’t mean to fall. Hell, she didn’t want to do it.”

“I get it, or whatever, but it’s still her fault. We’re professional athletes G, we need to be at the top of our games.”

Claude swats Joel upside the head. “So is she! Did you know that she’s favoured to win both the national and world championships? And that things look good for her to be on the Olympic team next year?”

Joel didn’t know, and guilt twinges his stomach. The next time he runs into you at the rink he’s going to apologize.

☼☼☼☼

You spend your time away from the rink conditioning and regaining focus. The first couple of days are tough, but then you settle into a routine you believe will ultimately make you a better athlete and competitor. Your cardio and weights are upped, and you’re anxious to see how the increase improves your performance. At the suggestion of your psychologist you take a few more days off than originally planned, but it’s the best thing you could have done. You return to the rink ready to nail the final few weeks of training before nationals.

Any other coach would have detested you for taking a week off this close to a major competition, but not Brenda. She understands that you needed time to refocus and that you’ll work harder than anyone else in the time until you leave for Salt Lake City. Your first practice is fantastic – every element is clean when isolated and within your programs. The timing is off a bit during your free skate on the first run-through but your jitters settle quickly and the next one is spot on. It feels good to be back in control of things.

“I think you’re over that mental block kid,” Brenda laughs when you stop along the boards to get some water. “You’re skating better here than at home.”

You can’t help but agree. “You know, I don’t hate it here as much as I used to. Think we should move here permanently?” The comment earns you a slightly aggressive hair ruffling, but it’s worth it. You spend the last hour of ice time alone, running through both of your programs in a mock competition setting.

It’s nearly silent in the complex when Joel sneaks through the doors. The only thing he can hear is the faint sounds of your music from inside the pad. He had been worried that you were never going to reappear at the rink but learned you were just taking a break when he cornered your coach in the parking lot. The middle-aged lady had told him when you’d be returning and Joel immediately put it in his calendar so he wouldn’t forget. Now, as he stands against the glass watching you, he’s nervous. What if you don’t accept his apology?

Joel knew you were a good skater. Well, he was pretty sure you were. He spent the short three-day road trip to Florida watching as many videos of you competing on YouTube as he could find. Though he’s murky on the specifics of what makes a good figure skater, Joel knows you put heart and soul into every performance and that your elements are strong technically. Your scores reflect that. Regardless, Joel is blown away at how talented you are when he watches you skate in person.

You’re looser than in the videos he’s seen, probably because there isn’t any pressure, but you don’t give it any less than your all. The music drives you forward in a way Joel’s never seen before – you’re an extension of it, and it of you. As you round a corner to pick up speed he holds his breath. From watching footage of this program from earlier in the season, he knows you’re about to attempt your hardest element. The quadruple salchow is one of the hardest jumps female skaters are attempting at the moment, according to his research, and it’s been your most inconsistent element this season. You’re completing the jump before Joel realizes you’ve taken off the ground, but you don’t fall. He exhales and watches the rest of the program in awe.

When the music stops and you take in your surroundings, you notice the applause. Thinking it’s just from Brenda, you shrug it off, but when you turn around she isn’t clapping. It’s coming from someone else – the boy who was a douchebag the last day before your break. The chances are he’s here to make another stupid comment, but Brenda insists you should talk to him. You wave him over to a section near the benches that dosen’t have glass so you can hear him better.

“What do you want?” you ask bluntly, taking a sip of water.

Joel’s taken aback by your abrasiveness but recovers quickly. He deserves it. “I, uh, wanted to apologize for what I said last week. That wasn’t cool. I was having a bad day and took out on you, I’m sorry,” he rambles. “And you’re like really good.”

“It wasn’t fucking cool,” you agree, “But we’re fine. I had just been kicked off the ice when you caught me, so I’m sorry too. For snapping.” There’s nothing more for either of you to say, and Brenda is calling your name, so you skate away from him. Over your shoulder you call out, “Thanks for the compliment unnamed Flyers player!”

“It’s Joel!” he responds. “Joel Farabee.”

☼☼☼☼

A sort of truce befalls you and Joel. More of your ice time overlaps, but neither you acknowledge each other more than the occasional nod in each other’s direction. It doesn’t bother you in the slightest. Preparing for nationals is the only that matters currently, and trying to navigate a possible friendship would be too much of a distraction. Joel is a little put off you don’t try to extend pleasantries, but when it’s explained to him that you’re entering a period that is similar to the lead-up to playoffs he understands.

However, he finds himself making up excuses to stay at the rink to watch you practice. He blows off dinner with Kevin and drinks with Morgan when you have the slot after practice, and when you skate before him he’s at the rink hours early. His schoolboy crush becomes the topic of locker room gossip. Though Joel swears up and down that he just likes to watch you skate, none of the guys believe him. They don’t go as far as to embarrass him in your presence, but Travis certainly tries. What Joel doesn’t know is that you’re developing the same sort of fascination with him. You find yourself turning on every Flyers game you can fit into your schedule, watching him intently, and keeping an eye on his stats.

“That boy sure has a lot of interest in you,” Brenda muses one day while you’re talking strategy on how to increase the points total on your short program.

“I don’t know why,” you sigh. “So I was thinking, if I raise my arms during the triple lutz it should give me at least three more points.”

She looks at you like you’ve gained two extra heads. “Are you insane? You’ve never raised your arms during a triple.”

Your smile turns into a wicked smirk. “It can’t be that hard.”

It’s a lot harder than you thought it would be. Though you’ve added the extra step to jumps in the past, it’s been on single and doubles to rack up points and GOE scores. Jumping has never been your strong suit, and trying to navigate the change in your centre of gravity is difficult. You spend the rest of your ice time popping, under-rotating, or slamming into the ground. A couple of juniors snicker at your failed attempts, but when you remind them they’re stuck on a double loop they stop laughing. It was a little mean, and you remember how hard it was to prove yourself as a junior, but you can’t find it in you to care. There’s no need to laugh at someone trying to improve their skating.

Bruises start to form on your sides from falling the exact same way so many times, and you trace them lightly through the thin material of your compression top. They’re going to look nasty in a few hours if you don’t ice them soon. A knock on the door stops your actions, and you invite the person on the other side in. To your surprise it’s Joel, and he’s holding an ice pack.

“I thought you might need one of these,” he says, extending it to you.

You thank him and hiss slightly when the cold hits your skin. There’s a beat of awkward silence before Joel speaks again. “Can I ask why you’re trying to change that jump?”

“You noticed that?” you know it isn’t a response to his question, but you’re shocked.

Joel smiles and nods. You explain how changing the position of your arms increases the difficulty of the jump and therefore raises the amount of points it can receive. “So you’re doing it to get more points?”

“Pretty much. It’s a gamble this close to competition, but I’m confident it’ll work out.”

“You’re afraid your program won’t gain enough points to put you in a good position for the free skate,” he notes, “Or you wouldn’t be doing this.”

Once again, you’re floored by Joel’s understanding of your sport. “Maybe I am, maybe I’m not,” you say as confidently as you can. “But maybe I just want the challenge.” If Joel notices the shake in your voice and the worried look in your eye he doesn’t say anything.

You go through your cool-down routine but are surprised Joel doesn’t leave. In fact, he stays at the rink until you’re finished and follows you to the parking lot. His car is parked a few spots over from you, so you have to raise your voice a little to get him to hear you. “Hey Joel,” you call, “Do you not have practice?”

“Day off,” he yells back. He’s grinning like an idiot, which prompts you to ask him why. “That’s the first time you’ve said my name.” The smile on his face doesn’t go away, and you try to settle the butterflies in your stomach as you drive home.

☼☼☼☼

Something shifts between you and Joel after that day. It’s subtle, but you’re well on your way to becoming friends. Phone numbers are exchanged, with him insisting his contact name be ‘King Beezer’, and the two of you chat regularly outside of the rink. He still watches as many training sessions as he can, and you start making appearances at his practices. It’s far more awkward for you but you push through it if for no other reason than wanting to be a good sport. Once Joel’s teammates catch wind of your budding friendship, they’re pestering you to go to a game. You politely decline each time, explaining that your training schedule is rather rigid and you can’t change it so close to nationals. The competition is just over a week out, and you’re catching a flight to Utah in three days.

Joel doesn’t let you know he’s a little upset you won’t shift your schedule for him. Instead, he brings you lunch on days where you’re at the rink for eight hours and does his individual workouts alongside you. The two of you fall into the easy routine of enjoying each other’s company and everyone else is beginning to take notice.

“So,” you say with a mouth full of the pita Joel brought you, “What are your plans for the All-Star break?”

Joel has been toying with an idea for a few weeks now, but he’s keeping it a secret. “I’m just gonna spend it at home with my family,” he shrugs.

“You’re fucking joking. Joel, you could be someplace warm enjoying the beach!”

“I don’t want to go to the beach,” Joel retorts.

You open your mouth to argue with him, because you’re of the opinion that everyone should love the beach, but you’re cut off by Brenda calling you to return to the ice. “This conversation isn’t over Beezer,” you say sternly, poking him in the chest to prove your point. He rolls his eyes.

“I’ve gotta be at Wells Fargo in an hour for a team meeting, so I can’t watch this session,” he tells you. You’re a little deflated but understand he can’t play hookie from his job to watch you do yours. Brenda is banging a skate guard on the boards to get your attention, so you wave goodbye and jog over to her. “Y/N,” Joel yells loud enough that you’ll hear him over the chatter on the ice, “Keep your core tight!”

Your coaching team is perplexed at the comment because it’s second nature to you at this point, but you think it’s sweet. Some of the other girls poke fun at your ‘boyfriend’ and it makes you irritable. Brenda tells them off and suggests they get back to work which makes you feel better. You keep Joel’s advice in the back of your mind for the rest of your practice, and land every jump almost flawlessly.

The day before you board your flight you have a terrible practice. Brenda chalks it up to nerves, but you that’s not it. You feel good about the competition and are confident it will go well. Something is off – you just can’t put a finger on it. Frustration eventually boils over and practice is called early. Everyone stays out of your way, letting you cool off, and you huff out a goodbye after promising to meet Brenda at the airport in the morning. Before you’re even out the door you’ve got your phone pressed to your ear, waiting for Joel to pick up. The Flyers got to start their break a day early due to a scheduling conflict and you hope he doesn’t fly home tonight.

“What’s up?” Joel says casually. Judging by the background noise he’s playing video games, no doubt some dumb first-person shooter game he seems to play constantly. The sound of his voice is enough to send you into tears and you can’t get out a reply. His tone changes instantly and the noise stops – the game paused and forgotten about. “Hey,” he soothes, “What’s wrong?”

“Practice was bad,” you choke out, “Like really bad. Joel, I don’t think I can do this.” Now across the parking lot and at your car, you throw your bag in the trunk and crumble into the driver’s seat.

“Of course you can. Want me to bring dinner over and we can do whatever?” You agree, not wanting to be alone, and hang up only after insisting you’re okay to drive the twenty minutes to your apartment.

Joel must have drove well above the speed limit because he pulls into the parking lot at the same time as you. His engine is turned off jarringly fast, and he’s popping your trunk to grab your bag before your gears have settled in park. Though you put up some rather weak protests about carrying your own stuff, Joel ignores them. When you insist on holding something he tosses you the bag of food he brought with him. Opening it up, you realize Joel had stopped at your favourite sushi restaurant even though he doesn’t like the food. A smile creeps onto your face, possibly the first one all day, and you lean into Joel slightly when he wraps an arm around your shoulder.

The two of you eat in silence, but it’s far from awkward. Joel’s waiting for you to open up, knows you will eventually, and you’re trying to find the words. However, they’re yet to appear, so you let Joel lead you to the couch and put on an episode of some crime show he’s currently watching.

“Thanks for coming over,” you say as the credits roll on the second episode.

Joel sends a smile your way, which you do your best to reciprocate. “Don’t worry about it. This is what friends do.”

Slowly, you open up about practice, venting about how you skated sloppily and couldn’t nail any element no matter how simple it was. You tell him about how tense your muscles are and how scared you are that your fifteen minutes of fame are over, that you’ll never get another chance to represent America on the world stage. Joel listens attentively, letting you speak for as long as you need. At some point you start crying again and he tucks you into his side. Your tears soak through his sweatshirt but he could care less. When you’ve laid all your emotions out on the table he speaks gently, dispelling your doubts and letting you know that you can do it and he believes in you. Joel’s words make it easier to believe in yourself.

The two of you spend the night on the couch, and you’re disheartened when your alarm goes off. You can’t stay in the little bubble Joel created for the two of you – the world and its responsibilities taking precedence over your fantasy. He drives you to the airport, rationalizing it by telling you it’ll be safer to keep your car at home. Realistically there isn’t a difference, but you thank him anyways. Parking is just one last thing you have to worry about. When you reach the airport entrance, Joel pulls into the idling lane and steps out of the car. You follow him, dragging your feet a bit because though you’re excited for nationals you don’t want to leave Joel. This will be the longest time the two of you have been apart since becoming friends.

“Make sure you don’t forget about me when you win and get all famous,” Joel jokes, handing you your suitcase.

You swat his shoulder playfully. “Like you’d let that happen.”

“Of course I wouldn’t. Come here.”

He takes you in his arms. You’ve hugged Joel a couple of times before, but they didn’t feel as serious as this. This time he’s holding you for a purpose and you’re gripping the back of his jacket tightly because you want him to let go. It’s longer than people who are just friends are meant to hug for, so you begrudgingly pull away. Besides, Brenda and some of your teammates are waiting.

“Have a good time at home,” you mumble.

Joel wraps a single arm around you for one more squeeze. “You have a good time,” he says seriously. “Remember to enjoy the moment. I’ll be watching on T.V.”

With your goodbyes said you wander into the airport. Joel says parked in his spot until he sees you embrace Brenda before driving off. The boarding process is painless, and once on the plane you take your seat beside a junior and put your headphones on. Downloaded to your Spotify is one of Joel’s hip-hop playlists, and though it’s the farthest thing from the music you enjoy you listen to it the whole flight.

☼☼☼☼

Utah’s nice, but you can’t help feeling like something’s missing – Joel’s missing. You’ve become so accustomed to him watching you train, clapping like an idiot every time you land a jump, that the silence is unnerving. Everyone notices the shift in your performance, and eventually Brenda crumbles and uses your phone to facetime him while you practice. It’s a decent enough substitute – Joel watches your pixelated figure zip around the ice and though he doesn’t always make comments, just know he’s with you in some capacity is enough to let your mind focus on the task at hand. You do the best you can at pushing away the butterflies that appear every time you think about how he’s giving up his freedom to make sure you succeed.

When you aren’t training or doing press you’re talking to Joel. You call him constantly, narrating what you see on walks around town to settle your nerves and eating at the same time to make it feel like you’re together. The only person to support you in Salt Lake City is Brenda, so talking to Joel frequently makes you feel far less alone. You wish he could be here with you, but understand he needs time to recharge and can’t just follow you around the country no matter how much you’d like him to.

“What time do you skate tomorrow?” Joel asks, mouth full of the pizza he’s enjoying. The features behind are different, so you assume he’s settled into his childhood home.

“Um, I think 11:35? I’m not entirely sure,” you respond. Due to the way the event is seeded you’re skating second last, which both settles your nerves and makes you more anxious. There isn’t the pressure of closing out the event, but there’s hope that you’ll score high enough to win the short program and skate last in the free skate.

Joel hums pensively. “I’ll check the website.” Conversation shifts away from skating, which you’re grateful for. It’s the last thing you currently want to think about. You listen with interest as Joel recounts stories of the pond hockey matches he’s played since getting home. The two of you are on the phone until nearly ten, when you have to say goodnight and head to bed. Tomorrow marks the start of the biggest week of your year.

You follow your pre-competition routine to the letter. At other events this season you’ve been more relaxed, but your professional skating career depends on your performance at nationals so you aren’t taking chances. Five-thirty comes faster than you thought it would, but you’re out of bed and eating your first breakfast quickly. A quick two mile run follows, and then you’re having a shower and grabbing a second breakfast to eat at the rink. You meet Brenda in the hotel lobby before ubering to the rink. A solid practice follows, and you manage to keep your imposter syndrome on a leash in the presence of the other skaters.

“It’s Joel,” Brenda says as she tosses you your phone.

“Hey,” you say, squeezing the device between your ear and shoulder. “I don’t have much time to talk. My warm up call is soon.”

Joel laughs and you find yourself cracking a smile at the sound. “I know. Just wanted to check in and see how you’re feeling.”

“Honestly? I can’t remember the last time I was this nervous for a competition.”

His response is cut off by a loud noise. “Where are you?” you ask.

“Just at home,” he says quickly. “My sister has some friends over and they’re being loud.”

The line is compelling enough that you don’t question how hastily it was delivered. Joel stays on the phone until you have to go, keeping your mind off the jittery feeling in your stomach. The TV cameras catch you talking but you give them a cheery wave and continue telling Joel about how good the soap at your hotel smells. You hang up when they call your flight to take to the ice for warmup and give your phone back to Brenda for safe keeping.

☼☼☼☼

Joel tries hard not to feel too out of place while he takes his seat. For someone who practically lives in arenas he feels like it’s his first time within fifty yards of one. Everyone around him is dressed nicely, and he’s acutely aware of the fact there is a neon orange pom-pom attached to the top of his hat.

As much as he feels like a baby deer trying to stand, Joel’s beyond excited to be here. It’s been a while since he’s gone somewhere that wasn’t hockey related and getting to support you while he does it is the best scenario ever. There are some potential looks of recognition from those around him, but thankfully no one approaches.

Skaters begin to take the ice and he scans vigilantly for you. You’re doing the best you can to stay warm, jacket zipped all the way up and gloves on your hands. Joel notices you seem to be the loosest of the girls below him but isn’t sure if that’s a good thing. You skate a few quick laps before warming up some jumps. Everything goes well, though he can tell you under-rotated a few of them and didn’t attempt the one quad in your program. The warm up is over as quickly as it began and you’re herded off the ice. Joel sinks a little further in his seat as gets ready to watch your competitors.

☼☼☼☼

There’s just over five minutes until you take to the ice. You keep your body moving, walking up and down the corridor, and blast your pre-competition playlist so loud you’ll probably have hearing damage when you’re older. Only one other girl in the hall with you but it feels too small. Brenda comes to grab you and the pair of you walk to the side of the boards. You don’t watch who’s currently skating, choosing instead to focus on adjusting your feet slightly in your skates.

“Go out there and put on a show,” Brenda says. “Fuck the judges.”

You laugh at her remark. “Okay Bren, when I lose points for flipping them off I’m blaming you.”

“Fine by me. I have a bone to pick with Mark Johnson anyways.”

The scores for the previous girl are being announced, so you peel your jacket from your frame and do a couple more laps. Right before your name is announced you press your forehead to Brenda’s. It’s a ritual you started back when you were barely as tall as the boards and you’ve done it every single competition since. You feel grounded looking in her eyes, and you break with a fist bump. It’s go time.

Every inch of your skin feels like it’s on fire. You didn’t come to play, and leave everything on the ice. The skate isn’t completely clean, you stumbled on the landing of a triple axel, but you’re happy with it. Despite your fears, both the triple lutz and quad salchow go smoothly. Audience engagement was at an all time high and you finished to deafening applause. Brenda wraps you in a tight hug when you step off the ice before leading you over to the kiss and cry. You chat idly with her and your choreographer, trying to catch your breath, while you wait for your score.

The announcer’s booming voice crackles over the PA as he reads the judges’ decision. “The scores for Y/N Y/L/N please.” You don’t pay attention to the individual numbers, just the final total. “For a total score of 74.83.”

It’s lower than you had hoped for. Not by much, just two or three points, but it could mean all the difference in tomorrow’s skate. Brenda pats your leg sympathetically and whispers in your, “It’s alright. You skated well.”

You head back to the dressing room to watch the final skater on the small T.V in the corner while you get undressed. She’s phenomenal, and you end the day falling to third place. Joel’s hip-hop playlist blasts through your headphones as you do your cool down routine. The average tempo is upbeat and helps to take your mind off the fact you’re not where you want to be. Just as you’re about to exit the room and find Brenda to talk strategy there’s a knock on the door.

“Yeah?” you say dejectedly, the word coming out as more of a sigh than you had intended.

The door is cracked open, and the head of your best friend peaks out from around it. “Hey there rockstar,” Joel says softly, stepping further into the room. Once you comprehend that he’s really here you’re sprinting in his direction, jumping into his embrace. Joel’s laugh reverberates in his chest, and you feel it as you settle further into him.

“Why are you here?” you whisper. Though you’re elated Joel is here, you’re confused as to why he would want to spend his break in Utah.

He lets you down gently and shrugs. “I had to see if you’d land the quad.” Joel’s smile matches yours as you shake your head.

“You’re fucking insane,” you quip, but there’s no malice in your voice.

Before you can pester Joel into answering all your questions you’re whisked away to a press conference. Talking to the media is something you don’t particularly enjoy, and it’s even more difficult to stay present when you know you could be spending time with your best friend. Most of the questions are directed towards the girls who placed higher than you which you’re thankful for. It’s easier for you to zone out, and you root through your mind of places around the city to take Joel.

“Y/N, how tough will it be for you to better your scores in tomorrow’s free skate?”

The question is one that you expected, luckily, and you’re able to recite the response you worked out with Brenda without really engaging with the reporter. “I mean I obviously didn’t aim to be in third place heading into tomorrow,” you joke, “But I’m fairly happy with where I ended up. The other girls had fantastic skates and deserve to be above me. My plan for tomorrow is to leave everything on the ice, skate cleanly, and be proud of myself regardless of what happens.”

Pens scribble furiously by those that don’t have recording devices to get your words down on paper. There’s some chatter, questions for the other girls, before a young reporter fresh out of journalism school is allowed to speak. He identifies himself as Theo Rateliff before jumping in. “Y/N,” he says, “How excited are you to get back to training on home ice when you get back to Jersey?”

“Um, I didn’t know the renovations were finished,” you stammer. “As far as I know, I’ll be at Flyers SkateZone until the end of the season.”

Theo shakes his head. “My partner was informed this morning that the rink will be good to go by the time you get back.”

You turn to the side to look at Brenda, who just shrugs. “Well, to be quite honest I’ll miss being in Voorhees. I had fun skating there and feel like the rink prepared me well for this competition.”

“Obviously not well enough,” Theo retorts, not missing a beat. “Your odds of winning dropped by seventy-seven percent.”

“Thank you for the reminder Theo,” you snap. “Are we done here?”

The press-coordinator shakes their head in confirmation, and you rip the microphone off your jacket before stomping off. People clear a path for you, not wanting to get caught in your storm. You run right to Joel who lets you direct him out of the arena and into the uber he called while you were wrapping up.

It’s a silent ride, Joel knowing you aren’t in the mood for light conversation. He lets you take a ridiculously long shower and orders take out that arrives just as you step out of the bathroom.

“Where are you staying?” you ask as you detangle your hair.

“Nowhere yet,” Joel says, “I got in early this morning and went straight to the rink.”

You think carefully about your next words before you speak. Your competition routines can be excessive and annoying, and you don’t want to inconvenience him. “You could just stay here. The room is massive and there’s more than enough space for both of us in the bed.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say, voice taking a soft lilt. “I’d really like it if you stayed.”

Joel smiles wider than you’ve ever seen him do before. The two of you sit comfortably in bed, eating the burritos Joel got and going down a conspiracy theory youtube wormhole. He asks how you feel about him coming to watch your evening training session you have to leave for in twenty minutes. You tell him you’d be angry if he didn’t stand beside your coach and clap every time you landed a jump.

It’s chilly but the sun is shining bright so you decide to bundle up and walk to the rink. Joel pokes fun at you beanie and you swat him in the chest, shutting him up for the time being after his giggles subside. The view is gorgeous, mountains framing the setting sun. You squeeze Joel’s bicep to get his attention and relish the feeling of his muscle in your grip.

“Look! An owl!”

Sure enough, a barn owl is flying over top of you, in the middle of downtown Salt Lake City. “That’s my good luck charm. Means I’ll skate well tomorrow.”

Joel pokes your cheek lightly. “I thought I was your good luck charm,” he gasps.

You roll your eyes. “I guess you can be my secondary one.” Joel doesn’t seem to mind the fact your arms are still wrapped around his, so you stay that way until for the rest of the journey.

☼☼☼☼

The night goes according to plan. You skate well in practice and feel comfortable for tomorrow’s event. Joel executes his role perfectly, cheering when you do things well and squirting water at you to make you squeal in laughter when things get a little too serious. Once back at the hotel you collapse into bed almost immediately. You’re so exhausted you can’t even be bothered to climb under the covers, and wait until Joel pulls them back for himself to crawl in. There’s no awkwardness at sharing a bed with Joel, and you sigh contently as he pulls you into his side. Sleep comes easily then for the both of you.

You wake before both your alarm and Joel. It takes you a second to get your bearing and realize you’re pinned against his body, though you don’t mind. There’s worse places to be stuck. You lay curled into Joel for as long as you can, but eventually you have to shake him awake.

“Beezer,” you whisper, ruffling his hair, “You’ve gotta let me out.”

He groans something unintelligible but instead of heeding your words pulls you closer. “Joel come on,” you try again, “I’ve really gotta get up. Need to shower before I get to the rink.”

Joel listens this time, but only lets you go after squeezing you tight for a second. You go about your routine with him still passed out in bed and giggle at the way his hair curls around his ears when you pass by. As you’re leaving to get to your practice ice slot Joel wakes up, lumbering into the bathroom. He reappears a minute or two later to say goodbye.

“Will I see you after practice?” he asks, voice still gruff with sleep.

“Probably not,” you reply, leaning down to tie your shoes. “I won’t be coming back here until after everything is done.”

Joel nods and wraps you in a warm hug. “You’re going to do great,” he says as he pulls away. “I’ll be there, cheering so fucking loud.”

“I expect you to throw a teddy bear on the ice after I finish.”

The walk to the arena is lonely without Joel, but you push the thought out of your mind. You need to stay focused on putting on the skate of your life in a few hours and not on how lately you’ve been having more-than-friendly thoughts about your best friend. Brenda is there when you arrive, making conversation about what you did last night with Joel before explaining how you’re going to run your practice.

Your hour of semi-private ice passes in the blink of an eye. The other girls in your flight are just as tense as you, popping jumps and doing a lot of stroking to loosen up. A lot is riding on today’s event and you’d be lying if you weren’t feeling the pressure. When you get back to the dressing room and check your phone, you notice there’s a text from Joel.

Don’t want to disrupt your pre-comp routine, but I thought I’d share a playlist. It’s songs that remind me of you.

Included is a link to a spotify playlist entitled ‘my golden girl’. You open it with a smile, noticing that it starts with some of your favourite songs even though they aren’t the kind of thing Joel regularly listens to before turning into things you’ve never heard before.

Thanks <3, you respond, going to listen to it during my off-ice.

That’s exactly what you do. It filters through your headphones for hours as you stretch, do a quick interview for those watching on television, and get dressed. Though it’s a break from your typical routine, it’s welcome. Knowing Joel thought about you enough to make you a playlist and send it to you helps calm your nerves.

“Hey kiddo,” Brenda says as she walks to where you’ve taken up root on the floor. Your left hamstring is tight, and you’re trying desperately to fix it before you have to go on the ice. “Go out there and absolutely kill it. This is your best program, and I haven’t seen anyone skate better than what you can do today.”

“Gee thanks for the confidence booster Bren,” you chuckle before hoisting yourself onto the bench to tie your skates.

She doesn’t laugh. “I mean it Y/N. You can still win this thing.”

You’re left alone to finish getting ready and then join the other girls in the tunnel. No one talks, which you’re grateful for. When you were younger and coming up through the ranks the other competitors liked to gossip while they waited and it was your least favourite part of an entire competition. A camera man waits at the end of the walkway, filming your arrival to the ice pad, and you wave cheerily as you pass by. It can never hurt to endear yourself to those watching at home – maybe they’ll be nicer to you on the internet.

Joel is standing at the edge of the boards during your warmup, watching and cheering intently. In a moment of insane confidence you blow him a kiss as you skate past, and giggle hysterically when he catches it and holds it close to his chest. You’re called off the ice then and spend the time really getting into the zone.

It’s considered bad luck to watch the performances before your own, so you face the wall as you do jog lightly to keep your body temperature up and the adrenaline flowing. Much sooner than you’d like it’s your turn to take your guards and jacket off. Brenda holds your skating hands as she whispers last minute words of encouragement, and you stumble through the traditional handshake before presenting yourself to the crowd.

Once the music starts your brain checks out and instinct takes over. You learned when you were younger that your best skates happened when you just allowed yourself to feel, and you desperately need the skate of a lifetime. Going into the first jumping pass you can feel yourself tense up so you think about Joel’s smile while you guys sat by the lake last night. It works to loosen you up, and you spend the rest of the program thinking of your favourite moments with Joel. As you strike your final pose the music fades out and the roars of applause cascade in. You know you had a flawless performance, beaming as you fist pump the air in the same manner you chirp Joel for doing while he celebrates goals.

You bow to the crowd in all directions, waving and laughing as flowers and teddy bears fall onto the ice in front of you. An orange blob of fur catches your eye, and you skate to pick it up before one of the volunteers could put it in the bag that will join your garment bag in the dressing room. You know Joel is the one who threw the Gritty toy – no one else really knows of your affiliations with the team. As you sit in the kiss and cry awaiting your results, you examine the stuffed animal. Instead of the regular Gritty jersey Joel replaced it with his own, the number flashing vividly at you and pulling a smile from your nervous features.

Brenda keeps her hand clasped tightly in yours as the PA system crackles to life. “And the scores for Y/N Y/L/N are,” the announcer begins, and your knee begins bouncing rapidly. “The free skate score is 155.79, for a total score of 230.62.”

You jump up in amazement. Despite your slow start to the competition you managed to get a season’s best. You’re also five points ahead of the second place skater, guaranteeing you a place on the podium and depending on the final results, a spot at worlds. A volunteer ushers you out of the kiss and cry and you skip all the way down the tunnel. To get out some of the adrenaline you jog the corridor a few times before returning to Brenda.

“Come on,” she laughs, “Joel’s waiting at the edge of the public area. We can watch the final skate together.”

At the mention of Joel you’re jogging again, wanting to see him as fast as possible. “Beezer!” you shriek as you approach, launching into the elaborate handshake the two of you have perfected at this point.

“Hey golden girl,” he chuckles, returning your actions with just as much enthusiasm. “You looked fucking great out there. I see you got my gift.”

The Gritty doll is still in your hands but there’s no shame. Instead, you tuck it under your arm and rest your head against Joel’s shoulder to watch the final skater. The girl after you had fallen a number of times, dropping her total significantly and landing her in fifth place. Victory is so close you can almost taste it.

It’s the longest six minutes of your life. Watching her skate increases your anxiety – she’s good, has almost as great a skate as you, but she under-rotated a jump and rushed through her program so there was extra music at the end. The clock above your head rings throughout the silent corridor as everyone awaits the scores with baited breath. In under a minute you’ll know whether you’re returning to New Jersey with a gold or silver medal in your suitcase.

You don’t hear anything as they announce her score – just see the numbers flash of the small T.V screen and calculate that it’s not enough for her to beat you. After years of blood, sweat, and an immeasurable amount of tears you’ve crossed another goal off your list. Those around you are jumping and screaming, Brenda letting a few tears escape. All you can think about is Joel, who’s celebrating like he just scored the game winning goal in the Stanley Cup finals, and how much you love him.

Without thinking, you smash your lips against Joel’s. It’s adrenaline filled and mostly teeth until he wraps one hand around your waist and the places the other along your jaw. Then it becomes purposeful, both of you moving in tandem and never wanting it to stop. When Joel pulls away and rests his forehead against yours you can’t stop smiling. The kiss might have happened in the heat of the moment, but you know it’s the culmination of feelings building inside of you for months.

“You’re a national champion,” Joel says, pulling you flush against his chest in the biggest hug you’ve ever received.

“I’m your national champion,” you whisper.

He pulls back and grins, kissing you again. “You’re my national champion. My golden girl.”

The rest of your stay in Salt Lake City is a blur. You’re swept up in the numerous press events, galas, and enjoying your blossoming relationship with Joel. When you finally got back to the hotel after what seemed like hours of people complimenting your comeback, the two of you sat down and talked about the kiss and what you wanted to happen next. It was scary, being so vulnerable, but it needed to happen – you’re both adults and communication is important. So, you’re returning home with a gold medal and boyfriend, two things you’re ecstatic about.

☼☼☼☼

“J, it’s not straight,” you giggle. Joel’s trying, and failing miserably, to hang the shadow box with your nationals medal in it above your couch. It’s been almost a month since you returned home but you’ve been so busy that decorating the apartment you barely spend time in has been at the bottom of your to-do list.

He grunts out a response. “Fuck. Do I have to go left or right?”

“Left.” The picture shifts in the opposite direction. “The other left Joel!”

A few minutes later the decoration is sitting perfectly in place. Your child of a boyfriend insists on getting rewarded for his achievement, so the two of you bundle up and get dinner. It’s nothing fancy – just sandwiches from the deli down the street from your apartment, but spending time with him is nice. Joel’s been on a string of short road trips and you’ve been training anxiously, waiting for the organization to announce who they’re sending to the world championship.

“How’s practice been lately?” Joel asks, mouth full with a bite of his BLT. “I miss being able to watch you skate whenever I want.”

After returning from Utah you were shuttled immediately into the freshly renovated rink of your skating club. It’s a little farther into Jersey and certainly not as convenient for him to get to, especially now that the NHL season is picking up and the Flyers are clinging desperately to the final playoff spot. “It’s been interesting,” you shrug, “I’m skating well, and physically I feel great. There’s a mental block or something though because everything feels a little bit off.”

The smile that graces Joel’s face can only be described as shit-eating. “Duh, I’m not there.”

“Fuck off.” Though you try to make the words come out in a serious tone, there’s no malice in them.

Conversation flips to some ridiculous story Travis told at practice that morning, and you giggle as Joel recounts it with failing arms. You tell a few stories of your own, that leave him in stitches, and as you walk home hand in hand he asks you again to come to a game. With your schedule a little more flexible as you wait for a decision about the upcoming competition stint it will be much easier to see Joel play. You say yes with a shy smile and don’t miss the way the boy beside you blushes under the streetlights.

Joel stays over, and the next two nights after that. It’s nice, falling into a relationship with your best friend, because there’s no awkwardness. You know what kind of cereal to keep in your pantry and he knows you don’t eat meat on Mondays. Everything is easy. There are a fews in the road, as can be expected with any budding relationship, but for the most part your lives fit seamlessly together.

After some meticulous planning, you found a home game on the Flyers schedule that will coincide with yours. It’s a Friday night near the end of February, and it’s actually the last day US Figure Skating can announce their assignments for worlds. You figure watching your boyfriend is the perfect way to distract yourself from the decision, whether or not you make the team. Joel’s ecstatic about your attendance, wanting you to be immersed in as many aspects of his life as possible. The entire day he’s bouncing around your apartment, beyond ready for puck drop.

“It’s literally three in the afternoon,” you grumble as Joel corrals you into the hall to put your shoes on. “You never leave this early! Why do we have to do it today?” In an attempt to save gas and lower your carbon footprint you’re carpooling with Joel.

“Because being in this house is making you more anxious,” he points out. “I’ve caught you staring into the distance one too many times today. Besides, this way you can meet up with some of the other girls and relax before the game.”

Joel’s right, as he so often is. Your agent hasn’t called to let you know if you made the team or not, nor has US Figure Skating made an announcement on social media. So you’ve spent the entire day pacing back and forth around your living room and fretting that perhaps the best performance of your season wasn’t good enough. He twirls his car keys around his index finger in an attempt to speed you along and you roll your eyes at his impatience.

After ensuring your home is safely secured you hit the road. The drive into Philadelphia is easy, with little traffic, and you spend it laughing at Joel’s ridiculous freestyle raps. It doesn’t surprise you that the staff lot at the Wells Fargo Centre is sparsely populated – most of the guys don’t show up until around five, Joel included. However, a group of women are standing near the entrance. While this isn’t the first time you’ve met significant others of your boyfriend’s teammates, it’s the first time Joel won’t be around.

“It’ll be alright,” he whispers as the car settles into park. You offer a small smile that mustn't have been convincing because Joel lifts the hand that’s intertwined with his to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss to the knuckles. The smile becomes genuine and you tease him the entire walk to the door.

Joel greets the other girls before setting his bag down on the concrete and wrapping you in a hug. “Have fun,” you say softly against his lips, landing a short kiss. He winks and opens the door, disappearing inside and leaving you in a fit of giggles.

There was no reason for you to be nervous – everyone is incredibly kind. You seem to be the youngest in the group, but the other girls pay no mind and treat you as one of their own. There’s a small amount of confusion when your phone chimes with a notification, a few glances of possible distaste, but as soon you explain you’re waiting on a very important call they understand. Dinner is wonderful, filled with sincere questions about your skating career and how you got together with Joel. By the time you get back to the arena for the game it feels as though you’ve been a part of the group for years.

You spend the game in the family and friends box, sipping a glass of wine and following Joel around the ice. Practice is early in the morning and you want to be productive, so you’re relaxed in your alcohol consumption compared to some of the others. One of the older girls, though you can’t remember what player is her significant other, recently got engaged and is celebrating with as many drinks as those around her will allow. It’s fun to experience a hockey game in this way, but you’re a little on edge. You haven’t anything about worlds assignments all day and the organization doesn’t typically leave the announcement to this late in the evening. There’s seven minutes left in the game when your phone rings. You quickly excuse yourself from the group and step into the hall.

“Hello?”

“Y/N,” the chipper voice of your agent Megan says, “How are you?”

A nervous laughter tumbles from your lips. “I think that depends on what you’re about to tell me.”

“I imagined you’d say something along those lines,” she responds. “You’ve always been quite witty.” Before you ask her to just get to the point of the phone call, Megan speaks. “I have some good news and some bad news for you. You’re going to the World Championships, but you aren’t leading the team like we hoped.”

It’s not as bad as she made it sound. A breath you didn’t know you were holding escapes, and you try your best to remain professional in the hallway of the arena. “Honestly,” you sigh, “I think that’s better. There’s going to be a lot less pressure for me to bring home three Olympic spots. Thanks for letting me know Meg.” She hangs up then, no doubt having to tell another girl she didn’t make the cut.

When you slip back through the door, you find all eyes on you. “What was that about?”

“I made the roster for worlds.”

Earth-shattering applause erupts from everyone in the room, and no one pays attention to what happens on the ice for the remainder of the game. The congratulations continue until you’re waiting outside the dressing room for Joel to exit. He had a good game, featuring two assists and a blocked shot, and smiles lazily when he sees you leaning against the brick wall.

“This is something I could get used to,” he chuckles, pulling you into him by the belt loops of your jeans. The two of you kiss for a moment, letting it stay chaste in fear of getting chirped by teammates.

“Well,” you sigh dramatically, drawing out the suspense of what you’re about to say, “You’re going to have to wait a bit longer for it to become a regular occurrence. My training schedule just increased exponentially.”

Joel sits on your words for a moment before it registers. “No fucking way!” he shouts, picking you up by the waist as the two you are a pairs team. “You got the spot?”

Having Joel be so excited about the accomplishment makes it seem that much more real. Tears well in your eyes and you shake your head up and down to signal he’s correct. Joel presses his lips to yours once again, this time not caring about any insults his friends could throw at him. The kiss makes you feel loved, fully and completely, and you hope you’re conveying the same amount of emotion he is.

“That’s my girl.”

☼☼☼☼

“Oh my fucking god,” you grumble, picking yourself off the ice for what feels like the hundredth time in the past five minutes. There’s two weeks until you leave for Milan and it looks like you’ve never skated before. Jumps are being under-rotated, spins aren’t being entered properly, and your footwork sequence is abysmal. Nothing about the way you’re performing would let a newcomer know you’re a world class athlete.

Brenda gives you a sympathetic smile. “Just try again kiddo.”

You do try again – fifteen more times to be exact. Each attempt at a triple axel getting farther and farther from what it should be. Before you get even more frustrated you abandon the element altogether, hoping to avoid a complete meltdown. No one questions it when you shift disciplines completely and move about the ice completing a simple foxtrot pattern. Ice dance has always been a great de-stresser for you, and after a few passes you feel your heart rate return to normal. At some point during your break Joel had entered the rink and is now standing beside your coach, making pleasant conversation. You smile as you skate towards them, ecstatic that the two most important parts of your life blend seamlessly.

“Farabee!” you shout when you get close enough for him to hear you. At the sound of your voice Joel smiles, turning to pick up your water bottle and toss it in your direction.

“I’m wounded babe,” he feigns pain as you take a drink, “I really thought that we were on at least a first name basis.”

You roll your eyes at his dramatics and playfully squirt water at him. “I’ll call you whatever I want. What brings you this far into Jersey?”

“Thought I’d see if you wanted to grab lunch after you were done. We’ve got a late practice today,” he explains. “Whatever you want, eh? Does that mean I say whatever I want? Because I think you’re looking particularly good in those leggings.tum” You don’t miss the suggestive tone to his voice, but choose to ignore it.

Joel watches the rest of your practice from his spot at the boards and lays himself across the dressing room bench as you complete a quick cool down routine. You have a meeting with your massage therapist in the afternoon, so you follow Joel to the restaurant he chose. It’s a small vegan place that you sometimes stop at on your way home from the rink. They have the best burrito bowls you’ve ever tasted and since you’ve gotten together Joel has become rather fond of them as well.

The two of you sit outside on the curb. New Jersey is uncharacteristically warm for March and you want to enjoy the sunshine as much as possible. The rest of the day will be spent in dark rooms receiving physical therapy and trying to ease your tired muscles. There isn’t much conversation, but you’re more than content just to be with Joel. Life moves incredibly fast and your schedules don’t always line up nicely. It’s difficult to spend time with him, especially when you’re weeks out from a major competition, but small moments like this keep you from missing your boyfriend too much.

“Have I asked you to take me to the airport yet? I can’t remember,” you admit as you finish the last bite of your meal.

Joel laughs at your lapse in memory, knowing he gets the same way when high stakes games roll around. “No, but you would like me to?”

“Do you mind?” you ask, “That way I don’t have to leave my car at the airport for a week and a half. But if you can't, don't worry about it, I’ll grab an uber.”

“Babe, the uber will be like fifty bucks. I’ll take you. What time do you have to be there?”

You give him a much too detailed itinerary of your departure plans and listen to him talk about the drills they’re going to run at practice. Time passes much quicker than you would have liked, and soon you’re kissing him goodbye and watching him wave from your rearview mirror.

It’s almost a week later when you see Joel again, showing up at a Flyers practice for the first time since training moved back to your home rink. You’ve been instructed to have a rest day, the team wanting to push you too hard before taking off. The arena attendants know you well at this point, and chat with you as you sit on a bench away from the media. You know better than you alert them of your presence – some of them no doubt wanting a comment from you about worlds. Joel has no idea you’re even there until long after practice, when he sees you leaning casually against the driver’s side door of your car, conveniently parked next to his.

“Hey all-star,” you say as casually as possible, twirling your keys around your index finger.

He leans down to kiss you sweetly, and though you probably shouldn’t in a parking lot, you push your body closer to his in an attempt to deepen the kiss. Joel obliges you, tongue gently slipping into your mouth, staying there until you both hear the shouts of his teammates.

“Fuck off,” he yells at Kevin, who’s hollering so loud people can probably hear him all the way back in Philadelphia. “What are you doing here?”

“I have a day off,” you smile, and I thought I’d come see if I could hitch a ride to your place.” You had originally planned to attend the game in person, but a rough day of training yesterday had you too sore to do much other than lie on the couch.

“The chariot awaits m’lady,” he says in a terrible British accent, bowing for good measure as he opens the door. Your car will be fine in the parking lot overnight, so you slip in and enjoy the journey into the city.

Joel’s pre-game routine changes only slightly with you in his apartment – instead of napping alone, you curl into his chest and snore softly, lulling him into one of the most peaceful sleeps he’s ever had. You tie his tie for him and riffle his hair before kissing him good luck. Being alone in Joel’s apartment isn’t as strange as you thought it would be, and you familiarize yourself with his kitchen while you make dinner. The pre-game show plays quietly in the background, and when they mention how well Joel is playing you can’t help but smile.

It’s much more comfortable to watch the game in your boyfriend’s hoodie and pyjama pants on the couch than it would be to sit in the stiff arena seats. Time passes at a pretty leisurely pace, with nothing too exciting going on within the game, and sometime in the third period you fall asleep. The rest of the game and all the media appearances pass you by. Joel figures you must be sleeping when he doesn’t get a congratulatory text when Claude pulls off a buzzer beater to win. His suspensions are confirmed when he slips through his front door to see you drooling slightly on the throw pillow his mom bought him as a housewarming gift.

You don’t remember climbing into bed, but you wake up with Joel’s socked feet pressed against your calves. He stirs behind you and mummers something unintelligible.

“What was that sleepyhead?” you giggle, turning around to run a hand through his hair. It’s rather unruly at the moment and you find it adorable.

“Good morning,” he repeats.

“That’s what that was?”

“Leave me alone.”

The two of you lay in bed for a few more minutes before starting the day. You navigate around Joel flawlessly – like you’re there every morning. Breakfast is quick and you’re out the door before you have a chance to cherish the domesticity of it all. You have a pretty intense day of training and Joel has to be at the airport in two hours for a trip to Toronto. He drops you off in Voorhees, kissing you gently before making his way back into the city. You hate to see him go, wishing you could spend more time together before you head to worlds, but you know you’re both adults with real-world responsibilities.

For the first time in the final push you have a practice that is up to standard. Things click into place and you feel good. Really good. Each time you skate a program it’s clean, and the elements don’t feel weak when completed individually. Maybe you’ll actually be able to pull this off.

☼☼☼☼

Italy is beautiful, but you don’t get much time to enjoy it. A scheduling mishap has team USA leaving two days later than you were supposed to and now you’re all scrambling to find a groove. Every moment is being spent preparing for the competition – off ice training, multiple practices a day, press conferences. When you get a moment to spare you call Joel, but oftentimes he’s at practice or fulfilling other obligations. The time difference is brutal and souring your mood. You feel alone, and just wish Joel could be by your side like he was at nationals.

As soon as you step on the ice something feels wrong. You run through a mental checklist and assure that nothing is – your skates feel they way they should and you didn’t forget any gear. It must be nerves. The competition officially starts tomorrow and you’re eager to cheer on the pairs teams America has brought. You do your best to skate it out, and by the time you’re allowed to have the ice to yourself you can almost convince yourself everything will be fine.

The music starts and you snap into character. Your short program music is punchy and so are you – all sass and sharp angles as you navigate the opening step sequence. A lump forms in your throat as you set up the first first jumping pass, but you push it down. You’ve done a thousand triple lutz-triple toe-loop combinations and could execute it flawlessly in your sleep.

Everything happens so fast. One second you’re rotating through the air and the next you’re sprawled across the ice. Nothing feels off until you try to pick yourself up. When you can’t move your left leg you look to see what the issue is and find your kneecap where it most certainly should not be. It’s rotated nearly one hundred and eighty degrees, now residing in the back instead of the front.

“Help me!” you scream, mostly out of shock. There’s no pain which surprises you, but you know it definitely should hurt. Everyone around the ice surface is frozen in place, not knowing what happened or what to do, and you continue to sob helplessly.

Someone sprints to get the onsite emergency responders and Brenda runs to you as fast as her dress shoes will allow. “Don’t look at it honey,” she soothes. “It’s just going to make things worse.”

“It should hurt,” you croak out through the tears, “Why doesn’t it hurt?”

“You’ve got so much adrenaline pumping through your veins you can’t feel anything,” the EMT explains in flawless English. “Can we take your skates off?”

You nod, and the right skate comes off breezily. Brenda unlaces your left skate and the medical team works to pry the boot from your foot. A sharp pain shoots up your leg and you wail in agony. “Shh, it’s okay,” your coach coos, “The skate is going to stay on until we get to the hospital.”

The ride to the hospital feels like time is moving through sludge. The paramedics keep an eye on your blood pressure and do their best to keep you calm. Brenda is typing furiously on her phone, and you ask what she’s doing as the vehicle pulls into the ambulance bay.

“The ISU rep told me to keep him updated,” she explains. “And I’m trying to vote on which alternate is going to take your place.”

You knew that was going to happen, you couldn’t possibly skate, but it makes you unbelievably sad. All your hard work is going to amount to nothing. No one cares about national champions who don’t place at worlds, and the injury is going to sideline you in next year’s olympic race. The emergency room has a bed ready for you, and the doctor arrives as you’re being transferred into it.

“Miss Y/L/N, I’m Dr. Morelli. We’re going to put your patella back into place. It’s going to be incredibly painful, so we’re to sedate you. Is that okay?”

“Yes,” you say as strongly as you can, though it comes out feeble and hoarse.

A nurse inserts an IV into your arm and smiles at you. They have you count backwards from ten, and by the time you get to eight you’re asleep. There’s a brief moment of panic when you wake up as you forgot where you are. “You’re awake,” Brenda speaks softly from the bedside. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” you admit. “It hurts so fucking bad.”

She gives you a sympathetic smile. “I know. They’re going to come get you for x-rays in a few minutes and then we’ll go back to the hotel.”

“Oh my god,” you gasp. “I’ve gotta call Joel. Bren, give me your phone.”

Laughter comes from the device’s speakers, and you realize she’s one step ahead of you.

“There’s my girl,” Joel whispers, eyes landing on yours as the phone lands in your hands. “Are you okay?”

The question makes you laugh. “You’re quite the comedian Mr. Farabee. Of course I’m not okay. My leg is currently being held together by a brace and my dreams are ruined.” You soften when you realize how upset Joel looks. “I’ll be fine J, I promise.”

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”

“There’s nothing you could have done. It was a freak accident. You can pick me up from the airport.”

He agrees in a heartbeat and tells you about his day to distract you from the pain. You’ll have to ask the nurses for some pain meds before you leave. A nurse comes to take you to the radiology department, and you hang up after reassuring him for the hundredth time that he doesn’t need to fly to Italy to bring you home himself.

Brenda holds you as the adrenaline wears off and your legs twitches rapidly as a trauma response. She helps you navigate around the small room and makes sure you’re able to use the bathroom. Luckily none of her other skaters are competing, and she’s able to travel back to Philadelphia with you once the doctor clears you. It’s a rough flight – there’s a fair amount of turbulence and each bump makes your leg throb. You don’t get a wink of sleep and are grumpy by the time you touch down in Philly. Joel’s waiting at arrivals with a giant sign and a sweet smile. You wheel yourself over to him as quickly as possible, wanting nothing more than to collapse into his arms.

“Welcome home baby,” he whispers, leaning down to catch your lips in an airport appropriate kiss. The reason you’re home so early isn’t brought up which you're incredibly grateful for. Your untimely withdrawal is still a very sore spot.

“I wasn’t gone long,” you laugh, trying to poke fun at the situation before reality gets you too down.

“Long enough for me to miss you a tremendous amount.”

The three of you exit the airport, and Joel drops Brenda off at her house before taking you back to his place. Chuck and the rest of the management team were allowing him to miss a few games until you become more mobile and can’t exist on your own for a few hours. Joel’s bed is calling out to you, but he insists you’ll feel better after a shower and you know he’s right. Showering isn’t something you can do yourself, so Joel keeps your leg straight and elevated as you sit on the stool he bought while waiting for you to return. The grime of travelling is washed away and you feel lighter when you swing into bed, stubbornly refusing Joel’s help.

You convince him to let you watch the broadcast of the event you were supposed to be skating in. It’s probably not the best thing for your mental health, but you want to see how everyone does. Joel sits besides you, arm wrapped around your shoulder, and listens to you explain the rationale behind every element’s score. When your replacement takes the ice you go silent. It’s too much to see her skating in your place so you bury your face into Joel’s neck. There’s no jealousy like you thought there would be, just an infinite amount of sadness that you’re not able to be there.

“You’ll be able to get back there,” Joel reassures you when he feels a tear soak through his sweater.

“That’s not guaranteed,” you sniffle. “I might not ever skate again, let alone compete at any level.”

He shakes his head in disagreement, leading you to quirk a brow. “I know you. You’re going to do it. It won’t be easy, but you’re the most determined person I’ve ever met. People bounce back after major injuries all the time. I’ll be by your side the entire time, helping you through.”

“I love you,” you blurt out. The gravity of your words sinks in and you gasp. You haven’t said those words to each other yet, but they feel right.

“I love you too,” Joel smiles, kissing the tip of your nose. “Now pay attention to the TV, that girl you beat at Skate Canada is up next.”

☼☼☼☼

Recovery hasn’t been easy. There have been so many days where all you want to do is throw in the towel and cry, but Joel keeps you going. He insists you to your physical therapy exercises with him so you aren’t alone, and he comes to as many doctor’s appointments as he possibly can. After the Flyers get eliminated from the playoffs he doesn’t return home for the summer, choosing to stay in the Philly area with you. Having him there is a massive help, and you power through the pain.

The Flyers are hosting a family skate before training camp, and it will be your first time on skates in nearly six months. Your doctors have cleared it as long as you take it slow and basically let Joel pull you around the rink but you don’t care. It gives you hope that one day you’ll be back to full strength.

“Ready to do this thing?” Joel asks, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers.

You nod enthusiastically and let him pull you from the bench to the tunnel and down to the boards. Joel steps on the ice first, keeping his hands up in case you need them for support. A few of the significant others notice what’s happening and they erupt in applause once both your feet are planted on the surface. Joel joins them, his eyes watering when he sees how happy you are to be skating again.

“I do believe you promised me a few laps lover boy,” you wink.

“Yes ma’am,” Joel giggles as he mock salutes. He places his hands in yours and guides you gently, careful not to go too fast or get too close to other groups. The two of you giggle and stop to kiss frequently but no one says anything. You’ve worked incredibly hard to get here and they’re perfectly content letting you have your moment. Standing at centre ice you feel complete, and you know it’s all thanks to Joel.

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @samsteel @kiedhara @tortito @boqvistsbabe @iwantahockeyhimbo @himbos-on-ice if you want to be added just shoot me an ask :)

#this right here is my baby #joel farabee imagine #joel farabee x reader #joel farabee fic #philadelphia flyers imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #cwrites

388 notes · View notes

crystal-moon-101 · 3 years

Photo

Managed to do another redesign with rewrite notes, this time my second favourite character in Ben 10, Azmuth The First Thinker. And just like Ben, he's canon self is such a mess that I wish to fix in my own way. The other Galvans in this picture are his family, with his father from the movie "Destroy All Aliens", his nephews mentioned by DJW, and their mother who is Azmuth's twin sister. So let me get into the notes and rewrite ideas of mine!

-Retaliator-

Yes, I am aware that this is most likely not his name, but I could not be bothered to make up my own at this point, and I also find it funny to have a Galvan dad called this, so I'm sticking with it. So Retaliator is the father of both Azmuth and Divi, a very humble and calm old galvan, who has seen a lot through his years, now retired and mostly just trying to keep the family together through small things.

Retaliator has the rare gene of having aqua/turquoise eyes, a recessive trait in galvans, similar to human with the red hair gene.

Retaliator looks younger than he should be, and that's because he is, in a way. You see, right before Azmuth vanished to start working on the watch, Retaliator fell ill to an disease with no known cure, and this caused the family to...kind of break down. A lot had happen up to this point (Things that will be noted throughout this), and none of them wanted things to end like this. So Azmuth did something he know he shouldn't have, as such a thing takes so much time and resource, and generally frowned upon, and ended up creating a new young clone body for his father's brains to be transferred too. By the time Retaliator woke up from surgery, his son was already gone, off in hiding. It this was event that really made Retaliator realize he may not have been the best father for a long time...

While he is retired now, Retaliator use to do work based around energy stuff.

Since he's family's back together, he likes to host game or movie nights, or even little dinners and get togethers.

He adores his grandsons, and loves to share stories from his past to them, and he's one of the few people they calm down around.

He will admit that he did...go a bit wild when he thought Azmuth died, fighting Ben in the Galvanic Mechamorph suit, but him and Ben have since made up, and the old galvan likes talking to the young lad often.

He has most defiantly embarrassed both of his kids by showing off baby photos of them.

He met his wife through work, like most galvans, with her being a much higher up worker. Surprisingly, despite their statuses, it was his wife who asked him out first, having found him very charming.

Retaliator can never thank Ben enough for convincing his son to come home, and despite their bickering, he enjoys seeing Azmuth's bond with Ben, as the two have a way of balancing each other out.

While he may be in a younger body, his mind is certainly still that of an old galvan, and can often act like his body is older than it really is due to the mental age of his brain.

-Azmuth-

Ahhhh, dear old Azmuth, how I love your character concept, and yet get so frustrated with your actual canon self...There is a lot I have changed in terms of his placement and behavior on the show, and while I can't note all of them down there, the major theme behind them is that he is not a complete jerk in them. Don't get me wrong, Azmuth would still have flaws and issues with his off-standing nature, but he would act in a way that feels more natural, showing his growth and change while mentoring Ben. He genuinely wants to help and is a good person, it's just...he still has a lot to work through. In terms of his slight redesign, I'll like to mention that if you look closely, his outfit is a mixture of his first original outside, crossed with his UAF outfit.

I did mention that I couldn't note all changes of him in series plots, since most boil down to be him being nicer and more realistic, but I will note one change because it's big enough to mention. For the Diagon/Forever Knight Arc, Azmuth did not create Ascalon, because I while I get he's smart and created things like the Omnitrix, I don't think he should be such a big source of dangerous artifacts in the series so often, especially ones that cause trouble. So instead, Ascalon was a weapon crafted in Ledgerdomain, to help fight Diagon who orientated there, and at the time had been trying to conquer earth, and Zenith leaving Azmuth happened because of miscommunication and issues between them instead.

That being said, Azmuth does get involved in the Ultimate Alien Diagon arc when Ben himself calls Azmuth over, needing his help knowing he can better understand Ascalon, and eventually entrusted Azmuth and the Galvans to keep it and the trapped Diagon safe.

Azmuth and his sister had a very rebellious phase as teenagers/young adults, this being the age that Azmuth said he was a lot like Ben, though admittedly, Azmuth was slightly more of an ass than Ben ever was. They were going through a tough time, and Azmuth reacted negatively too it all. Funnily enough, the one thing that seems to make him doo a 180 degrees in personality was his massive swooning crush over Zenith.

He won't ever admit out loud, but he does find Ben's trait of nicknaming his aliens kind of funny...

He shares a mentoring role towards Ben with Grandpa Max and Tetrax, with Max handling the more emotional and human side of Ben's problems, Tetrax handling the physical training and teachings, and Azmuth handling the more logical steps and hard truth Ben needs to hear. He's one of the few people to give Ben the smack of reality he needs from time to time.

That being said, Ben is also one of the few people able to handle Azmuth right back, and give him needed talkings to when the man is losing himself to a bad habit.

Mostly due to the fact that Tennysons seem to have a habit of making people very close to them like family, E.g with Ben seeing Kevin and Rook like brother figures at times, there seems to be subtle hints between Azmuth and Ben that there might be parent and child like moments between them, though both would deny it if brought up.

It doesn't help that Azmuth ends up taking it upon himself on making sure Ben is healthy and happy, based on scans from the Omnitrix he reads daily. Of course, he'll just say he doesn't want the boy he entrusted his watch with to die in a stupid way, but people close to either of them know that Azmuth really does care deep down.

He has said both "I'm too old for this" and "I'm too young for this" many times.

Azmuth has admitted that he's nervous around the Omnitrix, and doesn't like putting it on. He's not good at handling the idea of becoming something he's not...

The Malware arc for Azmuth was...a lot more complicated than canon. Azmuth really did try to fix Malware, but for some reason he couldn't, and it scared him that one, this might be the first problem he can't find a solution too, and second, he just came back from hiding and had been wanting to make changes in his life, so to fail and hurt someone already? He didn't know what to think. It didn't help when Malware started refusing his help and ended up endangering the lives of others, including galvans and Azmuth's own family. And despite it all, Azmuth kept trying over and over again to let him help Malware, but the villain always refused, until Azmuth eventually had to accept that he couldn't do anything. When Malware was finally killed, Azmuth went quiet for a good while, and needed time to recover from his mistake.

Due to some past issues, Azmuth mostly refers to his father by his real name, and only calls him dad or father during emotional or quiet moments.

Whenever they're hanging out, Ben likes to bring him and Azmuth cricket smoothies to drink together.

Despite how they seem to bicker often, Myaxx and him play off each other rather well, able to dry wit each other every day.

Azmuth and Albedo's relationship is also very complicated. Before Azmuth returned, Albedo was an outstanding Galvan and protégé, being praised every single day. This, unfortunately, made Albedo develop a prideful nature and his close minded views on the galaxy, as he rarely was ever put down or critiqued. His ego also got a bit of a boost when the great Azmuth took notice of him, and made him his assistant, and while he loved it at first, some issues started to arise when Azmuth wasn't like the other Galvans who praised Albedo to no end. That isn't to say Azmuth never complimented him and liked his work, but he was an honest man who knew no one was perfect, and especially wasn't going to worship someone, knowing what kind of ego that could make in someone. It doesn't help that Albedo just can't understand what Azmuth sees in Ben, and how the two bond, despite Ben's young careless nature, and being human. It ends up making Albedo want a lot more from Azmuth, the man he looks up too, and when he's denied that he eventually turns his back on the First Thinker. Azmuth can only hope that being able to turn into other aliens, and being stuck as human, will teach Albedo that Galvans, including himself, aren't what make the galaxy function.

Azmuth is typically one of the must unfazed people you'll ever meet.

Given most Galvans have an issue of seeing themselves as the top race, Azmuth is kind of fond of Blukic and Driba for being very open and helpful to outsiders, and was even the one to suggest them to join the Plumbers.

Zenith and Azmuth too meet up again eventually, and while they don't get back together, they do make amends.

Azmuth was fairly small for a Galvan for a long time, until he finally hit his growth spurt late into his teen years, something his sister use to tease him over.

Greymatter's DNA mostly comes from Azmuth, meaning Ben actually looks like a Azmuth when he was young, his family having made comments about Ben being his "Clone".

-Divi-

Here we have the twin sister of Azmuth, Divi. A dry wit, no nonsense, sarcastic and feisty single mother of her three chaotic sons. Unlike Azmuth's father and nephews, she was something I had to completely make up from the spot, since Azmuth was said to have nephews, that meant he had to have a sibling, so it was fun to create someone with an interesting dynamic with Azmuth. She is, after all, one of the few people to exhibit some of those petty family squabbles out of him. So I hope you enjoy her and her sons.

As mentioned before, Azmuth and her went through rebellious phases after some downfall in their family life, with Divi jumping around jobs and never settling for one, and even dating another Galvan that neither Azmuth or Retaliator approved off. When Azmuth first left Galvan Prime to go into hiding, Divi and her boyfriend had still been dating. However, when he finally came home, he found the boyfriend to be gone, and Divi now a single mother to three sons. Azmuth never got a clear story what happened to the boyfriend, but he knows that the break up was nasty, and that the boyfriend isn't on Galvan Prime anymore.

Sometime after Divi had her children, she eventually settled for a job in the nursery/incubation centre on Galvan Prime, looking after eggs and newly hatched tadpoles before they go home with their parents.

Divi is quite a blunt and honest woman, who has no time for dragging things on, and while she may sound harsh, she ends up just wanting the best for people. In fact her open nature of speech is how she gets people to listen and see reason.

Her and Azmuth had a...bit of a dysfunctional relationship growing up. Azmuth was actually a slow learning when he was young, and Divi had a habit of picking on him. They did eventually mallow out, until tragedy struck their family and they entered their rebel phases, and the bickering and arguing come from both sides. They have made up since Azmuth returned, but the two have their squabbles here and there, but they're mostly just playful banter or family habits.

Her and Myaxx get along quite well, and the two like hanging out with each other.

She's also fond of Ben since meeting him, and the two like chatting whenever he plays with her sons, he's even babysat for her a few times.

She has no interest in dating again anytime soon, and is proud to be a single mother.

She's the one who points out Azmuth and Ben's family like roles to each other often, mostly due to the fact that she understands what a paternal feeling is like, and because she's blunt about it.

She got her wisdom feet first out of her and Azmuth growing up.

While Azmuth was off in hiding, Divi reconnected with his father when looking after to him after surgery. So, unlike Azmuth, she mostly just calls him father and dad.

-Trapez, Cieven & Aegls-

The three mischievous nephews, sons and grandsons of the family. Left to right, Trapez, Cieven & Aegls, who are the triplets of Divi. The three are like glue, and are often playing or up to little tricks, creating chaos around Galvan Prime. While they mostly look the same and are all tricksters, they do have personality differences. Trapez is the best when it comes to emotions and the phycology behind it, something most Galvans struggle with, and can come across as the kindest of the three. Cieven has a lot of traits from Divi and Azmuth, being fairly intelligent and wanting to be a lot like his uncle someday, though does have some of their sarcastic nature as well. Aegls is the most energetic of the three, hype up often and quick with crafting and thinking of ideas. When you combine all three together, you get a force of endless chaos.

Their mother has been honest to them about who their father is, and why he isn't around, but the three have grown up fine without him, and will forever be grateful for the work their mother put into caring for them.

They were born while Azmuth was away, and so have been building up hype about their missing uncle for most of their lives, enough so that when Azmuth did come back, they all tackled hugged him while he was still understanding the idea that he was now in fact an uncle.

They love Ben and the Omnitrix, roping Ben into some of their pranks and shenanigans, and while Ben mostly tries to stare them into the right direction, he can't help himself half the time and joins in on the chaos, much to Azmuth and Divi's dismay.

They do become a part of my Ben 10 Next Gen Series, given Galvans take forever to age, and will finally be young tweens when the Next Gen takes place.

The three each have different dream jobs for the future. Trapez wants to be a psychiatrist or doctor, Cieven wants to be an inventor, and Aegls was to deal with energy based matters like his grandfather once did.

Never give these kids sugar or coffee, it will end badly.

The three...had a bad encounter with Malware during his rampage, and for a while were scared around Galvanic Mechamorphs...They get over it eventually, but Malware does haunt them for a long while.

They once picked up some colourful language from Azmuth and Myaxx when overhearing them once. You can imagine how Divi took that.

-The First Thinker Family-

The traumatic event that struck the family was in fact the death of Azmuth and Divi's mother, who was killed by someone who was after Galvan Tech. The family fell apart after that, with Retaliator falling into a deep depression and being distant from his kids, and Azmuth and Divi going wild in their teen/young adult years to distract themselves from the grief. They've all come together now and have been taking the proper sets to honor her memory, and become a family again.

While no one has outright said it, Ben has kind of become part of this little family in a few ways, and after a while Azmuth stops being survived when the boy shows up for family dinners or game nights.

They all live on Galvan Prime, though Retaliator is known to take trips here and there around the galaxy, wanting to see more of it during his retirement.

On the outside, many Galvans treat the family as there wise people, who have sage advice. And while that isn't wrong, once you get to know them they're a very chaotic family...

#Hope you enjoy what I've done with Azmuth's character and his family #I just really want to get across how I think he should have gone #Ben 10 #ben 10 omniverse #ben 10 ultimate alien #ben 10 alien force #Azmuth #Ben 10 Azmuth #Ben 10 OCs #Ben 10 Destroy All Aliens #My art #Ben 10 Rewrite #ben 10 redesign

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frankiefellinlove · 3 years

Text

THE STEVIE FILES PROUDLY PRESENTS - THE AMAZING ROCK & ROLL ODYSSEY OF STEVEN VAN ZANDT

From The Source to Soulfire via Springsteen and Sam & Dave

Recorded, transcribed, edited, written, produced, mixed and mastered by MIKE SAUNDERS

SIDE TWO (1975-1983)

Track 6: Miami Steve, The Asbury Jukes, Tenth Avenue and Hammersmith

In early 1975, Steven returned to New Jersey from Florida, inappropriately dressed for the winter weather. “I came back with the flowered shirts and the Sam Snead hat and continued wearing them in the snow.” For the next seven years, he was known as Miami Steve. He joined Southside in the Blackberry Booze Band and within weeks they’d altered and expanded its line-up (adding keyboard player Kevin Kavanaugh from Middletown and bass player Alan Berger from The Dovells’ backing band), transformed its musical direction, changed its name to Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes (referencing their mutual hero Little Walter’s band and first single release) and established a successful three-nights-a-week, five-sets-a-night residency at the Stone Pony in Asbury Park.

“Just before that, me, Southside, Bruce and Garry went to see Sam & Dave. A life-changing moment. So me and Southside basically decided we were gonna be the white Sam & Dave, with rock guitar. So the horns came in and although we didn’t know it, we would change the entire concept of what a bar band sounded like and the respect a bar band would get by making it creative, soul meets rock. ‘Bar band’ was an insult. ‘You’re a bar band,’ which means you can’t make it in the real music world. After the Jukes, they started using ‘bar band’ in reviews and they meant it as a compliment, with Graham Parker and Elvis Costello and Mink DeVille. We changed the way people thought about these things.”

The Miami Horns were a vital component of the new band. Steven composed the horn arrangements, but although he’s always possessed a natural ability to imagine horn parts, he doesn’t read or write music (“never have”) and has always required a little help from his friends to transcribe them. “I have people write ‘em down, to this day. I like that actually. You have to do a lotta things yourself so any excuse I find to collaborate I do it. I find other people will bring something to the party usually. That’s why [I’ve] used Eddie Manion for I don’t know how many years. He knows how I like to voice things. Once I think of something and create the parts, I get bored if I have to voice every part, exactly right. If I hear a voicing I don’t like, I will change it, but I get bored by the mechanics of everything.”

While the Jukes were building their reputation and growing their audience, Bruce invited Steven to hang out at the Born To Run sessions in New York, where he was working on “Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out.” David Sanborn and The Brecker Brothers had been hired to play the horn parts, but Steven created a spontaneous new arrangement. He’s told this anecdote countless times, but I ask him to repeat it because it provides perfect examples of his innate musical talents in action (“I can hear the parts, who knows why?”), the nature of his friendship with Bruce (“I still am the only human being not afraid of him”), and his no-bullshit attitude (“I didn’t know anything about diplomacy”).

“So he says, ‘Whaddya think?’ I said, ‘It sucks, that’s what I think!’ I didn’t know how uptight everybody was. I didn’t give a fuck either. The managers and producers were all afraid of him already. He asked me a question, I’m gonna be honest. I’m trying to help my friend here, not make points with some fucking record company guy. Moment of silence. ‘He just said it sucks, which means we all suck.’ Bruce [says] ‘Alright then, go in and fucking fix it.’ So I did. I went in and sang the [new] parts. I didn’t know they were the most famous [session] guys in New York. It wasn’t insulting them, the chart was ridiculous. That was my thing, just from the Jukes being around maybe six months.”

“I wasn’t really feeling the pressure that Bruce was at the time. I didn’t realise his life depended on this album. His first two records hadn’t done very well. They wanted to drop him. I don’t know how aware I was of any of that. He invited me into the session and I’m laying on the floor. All I can think is, we’ve been hoping to get into recording our whole lives, I’m listening to this and it sounds fucking terrible. Not just the horn charts, everything. It was the worst period of recording in history. Virtually every record from the 50s and 60s sounded great, virtually every record from the early 70s sounded terrible. Because engineers took over, started close miking, padding the walls. Separation, separation, separation, all the things that make rock ‘n’ roll suck. The idea was, you isolate everything and make it sound exciting in the mix. Which they managed to do, miraculously, with the Born To Run album. Because it was pieced together in a bizarre way. Bruce made that record 100% out of willpower, he willed that into existence!”

Soon after making his instinctive artistic contribution (and singing backing vocals on “Thunder Road”), Steven was invited to join the E Street Band. It was a chance to complete the circle, play with his old friend again and settle any unfinished business from three summers earlier, when he’d been sent packing at the Greetings sessions. He made his live debut on the opening night of the Born To Run tour, which ran until New Year’s Eve. His input and influence over the next decade, onstage and off, would prove invaluable. (Bruce even began playing The Dovells’ “You Can’t Sit Down” as an occasional encore). In the fall, the tour took everyone to Europe for the first time, where the culture shock was off the charts. “There was no hamburgers, no peanut butter. The only place you could get a hamburger in the whole of Europe was the newly-opened first Hard Rock Café. There was a line around the block even then.”

Culinary deficiencies aside, Bruce also had to endure the overblown hype surrounding his first UK gigs at London’s Hammersmith Odeon, where Columbia had displayed the legend “Finally London Is Ready For Bruce Springsteen” on every available surface prior to his arrival. “[It was] completely obnoxious,” says Steven. “[Bruce] spent half the time ripping down posters. It was an embarrassing time for him, between that and Time and Newsweek. He didn’t like that stuff. You wanna be in charge of your life, that’s why we get into rock ‘n’ roll. Suddenly it was slipping out of his control. We made the mistake of playing a place with seats. It just made the show that much harder. But by the end, we got ‘em outta the seats. We went to Amsterdam, Stockholm, and back to London. The second one was a bit easier.” The experience had a prolonged effect on Bruce. “He was uptight in those days and would remain so through Darkness into The River, until he asked me to produce the record and we found a way to have some fun.”

Track 7: Epic Records, Steve Popovich and The Stone Pony

Back on the shore, Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes continued the Stone Pony residency throughout 1975, gradually consolidating their line-up. For the next three years, between Springsteen commitments, Steven worked as their producer, arranger, manager, part-time guitarist and principal songwriter. In early 1976, after circulating a demo tape, they signed a recording deal with Epic, with assistance from Steve Popovich, the label’s Vice-President of A&R. “I Don’t Want To Go Home,” the song that Steven had kept in his back pocket since his days on the oldies circuit, became the title track of their debut album and their first single. Ben E King’s loss was Southside’s gain.

“I produced [the song] in a way which was appropriate for the Jukes. They didn’t have a big background vocal thing going on,” explains Steven. “I was very conscious of being able to try and do most of it live, although I put strings on it, on my very first production! There was no synthesiser in those days that could play strings. That’s why I re-cut it [on Soulfire] the original way I pictured it, with the singer and background vocals answering. That idea of writing for someone else is extremely important, critical and essential. It changes the way you write completely, from when you think of writing for yourself, which is extraordinarily complicated and confusing. It’s not easy, but easier, to write for someone else. There’s their identity in your mind at least. I’m writing them a song. That’s a wonderful exercise for songwriters.” I Don’t Want To Go Home was released in the summer of 1976 (“I’ve never received one penny of royalties, but whatever!”). The Jukes later began their first national tour and made their European debut in 1977.

Recommended by Bruce, Steve Popovich was one of a kind. “The last of the real music guys in the business. The only other person I can compare him to would be Lance Freed on the publishing side, who’s unique. He’s actually into music and songwriting and the things you’re supposed to be into when you have a job description like that. And Frank Barsalona, the only agent who really did his job and would set the standard for everybody to follow. Those three guys, really quite historic. [It was] Popovich’s idea to launch the record with a broadcast from the Stone Pony. Never been done before. Popovich loved the local scene idea and he largely made it happen. It never would have been recognised nationally, I don’t think, if it hadn’t been for Popovich, who had the vision to say it’s cool if you’re not from New York. Rather than being embarrassed if you’re not from New York, LA or Nashville, it’s actually cool.”

Track 8: Production Credits and Political Awakening

Steven developed his talents as a producer and songwriter with the Jukes in the late 70s, following I Don’t Want To Go Home with This Time It’s For Real and Hearts Of Stone. Successive releases featured greater quantities of his original material, which included “I Played The Fool,” “This Time Baby’s Gone For Good,” “Take It Inside” and “Some Things Just Don’t Change,” apparently written for another of his heroes, David Ruffin of The Temptations. During this period, he also produced the “Say Goodbye To Hollywood” single for Ronnie Spector and the E Street Band and provided production assistance on Darkness On The Edge Of Town. His relationship with the Jukes ended when they left Epic for Mercury in 1979 and he went on to co-produce The River and two comeback albums for Gary US Bonds, Dedication and On The Line. It was an impressive fast-track apprenticeship. Steven had no production experience when he began. He acquired the skills and learned from his mistakes in the studio. “That’s why all three Jukes albums are different,” he says. “By the time we did The River, I knew what I wanted to do. I got it all down by then. That’s how I tend to do things. I can picture what I want. Jump in, do it, let’s see what happens.”

Steven also kept his promise to himself to bring his musical heroes out of obscurity, initially as guests on the first two Jukes albums. “I did what I could, but I wanted to do so much more,” he admits. “First time I get in a studio, got Lee Dorsey out from under a car, where he’s a mechanic. Got Ronnie Spector out of retirement. Second album, we reunited The Coasters, Drifters and Five Satins. Me and Bruce worked with Gary Bonds. We got Ben E King and Chuck Jackson on that record. Those artists had a talent level noticeably above everybody that followed. I wish I’d been insistent on doing more of them. In those [early] days, you actually had to have talent to make records. You had to be able to sing a song, beginning to end, perfectly in tune, perfectly the right melody, and if you fuck up one word, you gotta do the whole thing again. Couldn’t do enough for those people, they were so much fun to produce.”

In addition to his studio accomplishments, Steven played more than 300 shows with Bruce and the E Street Band between 1976 and 1981, primarily on the Darkness On The Edge Of Town and River tours. The majority took place in North America, but the River tour included a European leg that took the band away from home and out of their comfort zone for nine weeks. Much longer than their previous visit in 1975, it was their first significant experience of foreign countries, languages, cultures and political perspectives. They received rave reviews wherever they played, but Steven gradually became aware that not all Europeans viewed the United States in a favourable light.

One particular encounter was pivotal in dramatically reshaping Steven’s worldview. “A kid asked me, ‘Why are you putting missiles in my country?’ I said, ‘I’m not, I’m a guitar player.’ I realised, for the first time in my life, at the age of 30 I’m embarrassed to say, that I’m an American. What the fuck does that mean? I managed to grow up in the middle of civil rights, the Vietnam War, demonstrations about every fucking thing and had no interest in any of it. Amazing when you think about it. Redefining tunnel vision. Suddenly, the tunnel is gone. We’re now successful. Who would have ever figured that would happen, right? Now it’s like, uh-oh, what did I miss, the last 20 years?”

Track 9: Men Without Women, Motown and Mixing In Mono

This revelation accelerated Steven’s growing political awareness, one of two important developments in 1981 that would change the course of his life forever. The second came when he returned from Europe and was approached by EMI America about making a solo album. Having spent six years producing and writing for others, he welcomed the opportunity to have his own creative outlet, which soon expanded into a separate career. In the fall, he enlisted musicians from the E Street Band and the Asbury Jukes to record most of the material for his debut album, Men Without Women, using his established rock-meets-soul sonic blueprint. Including “Lyin’ In A Bed Of Fire,” “Princess Of Little Italy,” “Angel Eyes” and “Until The Good Is Gone,” it remains an undisputed career highlight for Van Zandt devotees, but Steven feels that an outside producer might have helped him make a more commercial record.

“Conventional wisdom is you never should produce yourself and I have to say that’s correct. The only exception I can think of in the history of the business was Prince, who was an extraordinary genius, but other than him, I don’t know anybody who successfully produces themselves.” Describing himself as “extremely schizophrenic, I’m twelve different people, never mind two,” Steven explains how his inner producer failed to control the whims of his inner artist. “Without knowing it, the artist takes over. I was into this extreme naturalism, no logical reason why. I did the whole album live in one day. Came back the second day, did it again, beginning to end. Couple overdubs, that was it. There’s one guitar. The horns aren’t doubled. Nothing’s doubled. Bruce did all the harmony on that record but we couldn’t use his name. We [did] a similar thing with Born In The USA, where we just recorded live in the studio.”

“I made Bob Clearmountain mix ‘Forever’ in mono, to try and achieve the perfect Motown record. It’s never gonna be exact and it shouldn’t be exact, why should it be, but I wanted to capture a Smokey Robinson Motown record. The only way I could do that in my mind was to make it completely mono. He was so good in those days. I mean Bob’s still the best, but in those days he was beyond the best. He was something else when it came down to that Neve board that wasn’t automated, and he’s feelin’ those faders. I made him do something he’d never done before, which requires a whole different way of thinking. You’re now thinking depth-wise and vertically, not horizontally.”

“That’s where my head was at. Can I achieve the emotional communication that my heroes had provided me? My heroes being Motown in general, 10 acts there. Or my heroes at Chess, another 10 acts. Sam Phillips did ‘Rocket 88’ for Ike Turner (Jackie Brenston) and ‘How Many More Years’ for Howlin’ Wolf, three years before Elvis Presley. Unbelievable genius. [I’m] trying to achieve that level of quality in my own world, in my own little bubble, which has these ridiculously high standards. I’m absorbing the 50s and 60s and then trying to integrate them in my head and reproduce them in my own way, not the least bit interested in what’s going on in the 70s or 80s certainly, because it was shit to me, comparatively. An interesting moment here and there. Punk was certainly interesting. But mostly it’s all coming from what I call the renaissance period, ‘51 to ‘71, where it all was created. And that’s true to this day. That’s all I was interested in and that was enough for 10 lifetimes. I didn’t need another bit of input after 1972.”

Track 10: Little Steven, Little Richard and Bob Dylan

In 1982, after recording with Bruce and Gary US Bonds, Steven completed his album, formed the Disciples of Soul (which included Dino Danelli from The Rascals on drums, Jean Beauvoir on bass and Eddie Manion, Mark Pender, Stan Harrison and La Bamba on horns) and played a debut concert at New York’s Peppermint Lounge. Released in October, a month after Nebraska, Men Without Women preceded his first national tour and was credited to his new professional name of Little Steven, which would be used for all future solo activities. “I just wanted separation [from] being the sideman,” he explains. “Each of my personalities required a different name, in order to keep it straight in people’s heads and my own head.” The name referenced his early heroes Little Walter, Little Anthony and Little Richard. In his role as an ordained minister, the latter officiated at Steven’s wedding to Maureen Santoro in New York on New Year’s Eve. Percy Sledge sang “When A Man Loves A Woman” as they walked down the aisle and the reception included performances from Gary US Bonds, Little Milton, The Chambers Brothers and the wedding band from The Godfather. “Little Anthony was doing a cruise at the time or he would have been there.”

“All I can think is, we’ve been hoping to get into recording our whole lives, I’m listening to this and it sounds fucking terrible. Not just the horn charts, everything. It was the worst period of recording in history. Virtually every record from the 50s and 60s sounded great, virtually every record from the early 70s sounded terrible. Because engineers took over, started close miking, padding the walls. Separation, separation, separation, all the things that make rock ‘n’ roll suck. The idea was, you isolate everything and make it sound exciting in the mix. Which they managed to do, miraculously, with the Born To Run album. Because it was pieced together in a bizarre way. Bruce made that record 100% out of willpower, he willed that into existence!”

Steven toured internationally in 1983, then dropped the horns, adopted a more contemporary rock sound and made his second album, Voice Of America. It was an explicitly political record that featured “Solidarity,” “I Am A Patriot,” “Out Of The Darkness,” “Los Desaparecidos” and “Undefeated.” Triggered by his River tour experiences in Europe, this radical transformation was completed with a long period of self-education. “I read every book about post World War Two [US] foreign policy. [It was] shocking how often we were on the wrong side. All of these bad things were happening behind the scenes and nobody was talking about them. No political consciousness whatsoever in the country. I decided I have an obligation to say something about this stuff that we’re all paying for with our taxes.”

“Being conscious of the fact that everybody needs their own identity, I figured who the hell needs another love song from a fucking sideman? I’ll be the political guy. Nobody else is doing it. There were people demonstrating of course. Jackson Browne, John Hall, Bonnie Raitt, Graham Nash, those guys. The Grateful Dead were doing a benefit every week, but rarely did it end up in the work. In general, people weren’t putting much politics into the lyrics of their songs.” For artists with commercial aspirations, he concedes, that’s a smart move. “Jefferson Airplane being an exception with ‘Volunteers.’ Big exception, Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young, with Neil Young’s ‘Ohio.’”

Steven contends that Bob Dylan’s “Subterranean Homesick Blues” introduced the idea of political consciousness in rock ‘n’ roll. “His first electric song. It’s not given enough credit. The first sentence from Bob Dylan’s electric period, ‘Johnny’s in the basement mixing up the medicine, I’m on the pavement thinking about the government.’ What? You’re doing what? You’re thinking about the government? Excuse me? Who does that? Whoever did that before, in a song, no less? There in that one sentence, Bob Dylan communicated what his entire career was gonna be about, which was having fun with language, with inference, symbolism, metaphor and nonsense lyrics that rhymed. ‘Johnny’s in the basement mixing up the medicine,’ what does that mean? It means whatever you want it to mean, right? Then ‘I’m on the pavement thinking about the government.’ Holy shit! You mean we’re supposed to figure out the government? That, to me, is the most important sentence in all the history of rock ‘n’ roll, right there.”

All photos below by Mike Saunders

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kolbisneat · 3 years

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MONTHLY MEDIA: March 2021

Hey March was a weird month what with all the pandemic anniversaries and such but here we are. It’s March. Goodbye March.

……….FILM……….

Attack the Block (2011) After about 20 minutes my partner asked if this was basically a British episode of Goosebumps and....she’s not wrong? I liked it back when it came out but it’s aged really well. Tight script and casual class politics along with the very good space stuff.

Who Framed Roger Rabbit (1988) It turns out I’d remembered so little of this movie that it was essentially a fresh viewing. The artistry and ambition still holds up today plus a noir set in L.A. is always good time. But then you add cartoon hijinks and it’s all just that much better.

The New York Times Presents: Framing Britney Spears (2021) So we watched the ep on Britney Spears and...it didn’t really seem to cover all that much. It kept feeling like it was about to start and then after an hour and a half of that it just sorta wraps with a small legal victory. I know this isn’t fiction so I’m not expecting a happy ending, but I don’t know what it wanted to say.

CBS presents Oprah with Meghan and Harry (2021) I mean I don’t think anything said or shared was surprising anyone. Though I appreciate Oprah not letting either of them sidestep a question. Either answer or say you won’t; none of this fancy poetry.

……….TELEVISION……….

Great British Bake Off (Episode 9.01 to 9.04) This is our first season without Mary Berry, Sue, and Mel and it’s a real shift! But despite all the new faces, it still feels very much like the good-natured GBBO I’ve come to love. Great stuff.

City of Ghosts (Episode 1.01 to 1.06) I hope all that I’m seeing about this means that Netflix will greenlight another season and more television like this. The artistry is fantastic, the concept allows for both whimsy and poignancy, and it’s casually funny in a way that I can’t fully describe. Great stuff.

WandaVision (Episode 1.09) So this didn’t quite stick the landing for me. I figured there’d be some blasts and magic and zooming around in the sky, but I also assumed we’d get some resolution (maybe even consequences) for what Wanda did to the town. Sure, she’s not the villain and it wasn’t intentional, but the show appeared to be built around this theme of denial and acceptance yet abandoned that in the end. But I will give it this: it really has sold me on the relationship between Wanda and Vision.

The Night Manager (Episode 1.05 to 1.06) You know I think I’ve been so primed by Bond films and action set pieces that, while I won’t spoil the ending, I was pleasantly surprised by how it wrapped up. It was a nice change of pace.

The Bachelor (Episode 25.09 to 25.12) What a season. It was a mess, sure, but I also think it was the uncomfortable mix of stagnation and progress. The show needs to evolve and I feel like the finale and aftershow really highlighted that the change has to happen. Maybe it’s starting to happen already or in future seasons it’ll change whether production likes it or not.

……….READING……….

Gideon the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir (Complete) Really fantastic read and such an effortless blend of science fiction and...necromantic fantasy! Dark and gross and light and funny all at the same time. 100% recommend and am very excited for the next entry despite this feeling whole and complete on its own.

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum (Complete) I want to work my way through the series (or at least the original 14 written by Baum) so we gotta start at the beginning! There’s such a light air about the book that everyone kinda just rolls with everything. Sentient objects and talking animals and lots of murder are just met with a “Great! on to the next adventure!” and I love it.

The Marvelous Land of Oz by L. Frank Baum (Complete) It’s really great that the second book has a lot of the same core components (human child meets a bunch of wacky sidekicks while on a very small adventure) yet casually expands the mythos and world. It even builds on the plot established by the first book (the main conflict revolving around Scarecrow being overthrown as leader of Oz ever since the Wizard disappeared). Great stuff.

Ozma of Oz by L. Frank Baum (Complete) Bringing back Dorothy and it’s really a merging of characters from book 1 and 2. If anything, this series is shaping up to be about making friends and the genial conflict resolution is really heartwarming. Now i’m keen to watch Return to Oz.

Dorothy and the Wizard in Oz by L. Frank Baum (Complete) This might just be me but I find a mostly human cast (outside of Jim the Cab Horse) to be far less interesting than the diverse adventuring parties of the first three books. Lots of fun stuff in here and playing fast and loose with the world-building works well; highlight the fun parts of a land made of wood and then continue on to the next location! Great stuff.

Delicious in Dungeon Vol. 9 by Ryoko Kui (Complete) It feels like everything is starting to come together and wrap up and I’m totally here for a story that knows what it wants to do. And while there doesn’t seem to be as much room cooking with the overarching plot that is driving the story, it never feels like it’s moved away from the heart of the characters and for that I can’t recommend it enough. Excellent world-building, excellent cast, and really great humor.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The IDW Collection Volume 9 by Kevin Eastman, Tom Waltz, Mateus Santolouco, Dave Wachter, Pablo Tunica, Sophie Campbell, and many more! (Complete) The human/secret agent stuff will always be boring to me (even if they’re hunting the turtles) cause that’s not what I want in a comic. I don’t want Batman hunting burglars, I want bright colourful villains for our bright and colorful heroes. Luckily we get into a pocket dimension for a toad god and his relatives during the second half of the volume. Overall, still my favourite ooze series.

……….AUDIO……….

Musicalsplaining (Podcast) Great host dynamics and hot dang I love a good musical.

……….GAMING……….

Neverland: A Fantasy Role-Playing Setting (Andrews McMeel Publishing) The group has taken a break from the infected giant colony to sort out some Pirate drama! Further session breakdowns are over here on Reddit!

Dungeons & Designers (Podcast) I had the rare chance to play in a D&D campaign instead of run it and it’s even up online! They also air the sessions through their podcast!

And that’s it! As always, let me know anything you think I should check out and thanks for reading.

Happy Wednesday.

#Monthly Media #Kolbisneat #Andrew Kolb

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luci-cunt · 4 years

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Hey, idk I'd you're still doing this but for the AU prompt mash up thing, andriel with royal and criminal! 😊(only if you want to of course)

Yes indeed-y I am still doing this and loving it!! love you anon!!

[Psst– send me two fic prompts and I’ll tell you how I’d mash them ;)]

Oh boy I love royal aus and I love criminals and I love andreil so this is everything I hope you enjoy non!!!!

(sorry in advance I really couldn’t stop myself, it just kept. on. going. XD):

So, Luther is king of… we’ll call it something super original: Carolina.

He’s crazy, super religious and burns people for being “witches” and stuff.

Tilda is his sister (duh), she’s also crazy but in a “I’m-gonna-go-on-a-forty-day-bender-and-come-back-unwed-and-pregnant” kinda way.

When she actually does this, Luther flips, covers the whole thing up, and throws a ball to celebrate her very sudden marriage. At the ball tho, this old lady comes up and asks if Tilda wants to know the gender of the baby, which is crazy, cause no one knows she’s pregnant ‘cept Luther and Tilda. Luther tosses the chick into a fire but not before she can spout off a prophecy, something clever and pretty vague and easily mis-readable like–

“REUNITED TWINS WILL BE YOUR DOWNFALL YOU ROTTING SIRE! AND BEWARE THE BUTCHER’S HEIR!”

However, the prophecy counts death as a reunion, so Luther can’t just kill both of them and he decides killing one of them is too risky. Luther scars one of the boys so they won’t be so identical and then boots him.

And so, Andrew Doe grows up family-less and scarred while Aaron grows up a very well guarded secret who’s not allowed to leave the palace. No one knows that Tilda has a son– let alone two– and everyone assumes the only heir to the throne is Nicholas Hemmick who’s on a weirdly long business trip?

(naw he ran and fell in love with his husband and is thriving on another continent)

That bit about the Butcher is pretty concerning, since Luther’s main executioner is Nathan Wesninski, the infamous Moriyama family Butcher who was given as a gift of good will to Luther. It’s not like he can kill Nathan, so he just bans him from ever having kids.

Nathan’s like “fine by me” so exactly 0 of the women he fucks survive to tell the tale.

UNTIL– Mary. She escapes just barely and nine months later Neil is born but here he’s called Abram and not Nathaniel for obvious reasons XD

Anyways, Mary raises Neil on the run at the same time as Andrew’s doing the opposite of thriving. They meet by accident, Mary leaves Neil in the town Andrew’s living in and Andrew tries to rob Neil and almost gets gutted for it.

They’re like, 13 so Andrew’s like “teach me how to do that now” and Neil’s like “no go away” and he bolts off to find a new hiding spot. Andrew finds him though, and Neil runs off again. Rinse and repeat. (look, Andrew’s like 14ish and bored out of his mind)

Eventually Neil gives in and agrees to teach Andrew to protect himself if Andrew agrees to steal some fresh fruit for Neil as payment

Andrew agrees, steals fruit and Neil starts training with him and they become quick friends. Neil mentions he wants to become a Knight someday and explains that him and his mother are running from his father (but doesn’t mention who that is)

Andrew spills that he’s never had anyone and that he thinks Knights are stupid.

But then Mary returns, she snatches Neil up and whisks him away to another town and Andrew’s alone again. He doesn’t like this, and there’s nothing in the town to keep him, so he finds Neil again.

Mary catches on and picks up the pace, threatens Andrew, and just tries to loose the kid any way she can but no matter what he always pops back up.

Eventually Nathan catches up to them, but this time Andrew is there. Neither he or Neil are fast enough to save Mary but they get themselves away to safety.

Together, in the dark of a barn with sheep and pigs rustling around in the warm night air, they make a vow. They swear to kill Nathan Wesninski.

Neil still wants to be a knight but he realizes that becoming one of the kings soldiers in order to kill one of the kings men isn’t exactly the smartest idea, so instead, him and Andrew go to Palmetto, a tiny little kingdom that’s on the verge of death and has an extraordinary crime rate. The queen, Kayleigh Day, died and her son went mysteriously missing, leaving the kingdom in turmoil.

Wymack is the leader of one of the largest gangs in Palmetto, but Neil and Andrew go to one of the smaller gangs first. They join, work their way up, and then talk to Wymack as equals, having taken over the gang. Wymack’s impressed, if a little wary of the two, and he offers Ally-ship.

(btw this takeover has taken years, they’re like, roughly 20′s now)

The two agree and tell Wymack about their plan to kill Nathan, Wymack admits to having contacts within the castle who could help but– it comes at a price.

He knows where the real prince of Palmetto is, and he needs them to go and rescue him. Neil and Andrew don’t like this plan but Wymack’s help is kind of necessary so they agree, queue a kickass rescue/ kidnap scene where Neil, Andrew, and the foxes all gang up to save Kevin who doesn’t know he’s being saved.

During this tho, they run into Riko since Kevin’s basically his personal servant, his “2nd in command” blah blah or whatever

Riko has met Aaron, and he knows vaguely about the prophecy because it was kind of a hot topic, but, as far as he AND the Moriyama’s were aware Tilda only gave birth to Aaron, except, Andrew is just uncannily similar to Aaron and– oh is that Butcher hair? What did you say your name was? Neil? huh…

Riko manages to trick Neil into getting caught but Andrew and the rest of the gang escape with Kevin. Riko tries to get Neil to admit who he and Andrew are but Neil won’t admit he knows who Nathan is and he genuinely has no idea who Aaron is.

By the time Riko finds out Kevin’s gone he’s beyond pissed. He doesn’t want to admit that he lost Day (who’s going by Kevin. No last name, the More-yams aren’t very good at hiding people) and he doesn’t want to hand Neil over without knowing that he’s the Butchers son.

So he decides he’ll handle the whole problem himself, and then boast to Ichirou about how clever he is later, so he tells Andrew that he’ll give Neil back if Andrew gives Kevin back.

Andrew’s like .2 seconds from doing just that but he also knows Riko probably doesn’t plan on giving Neil back at all, so he agrees to the deal but crafts a plan– he can’t kill Riko, but he can embarrass him to the point of Riko not being about to say shit without fucking himself over.

And so Andrew takes Renee and a couple other foxes and they go to meet Riko, little does Riko know that Kevin is actually a bear enchanted to look like a man and also enchanted to be chill until they let him go (Renee’s a witch, forgot to mention that).

However, little does Andrew know but Riko’s cursed Neil so that he has to come back to Riko in at least two days or Andrew will die.

The deal goes down, Neil’s traded for bear-Kevin and it all seems to work out well since as soon as Andrew’s got Neil the whole group books it and once they’re out of eyesight they hear roaring and screaming.

Everyone celebrates but Kevin knows it was too easy and he asks Neil about it, which leads to Neil spilling the facts. Kevin tells Neil that Riko doesn’t have that kind of power, there’s no way he could cast a curse that effects someone he’s never touched, but Neil doesn’t want to risk it.

Unfortunately (or fortunately) for Neil, Kevin tells Andrew and so when Neil comes to do the whole “thank you, you were amazing,” Andrew just locks him in a room.

There’s some tense waiting since there’s a slim chance that Riko does have that power and Andrew’s about to die– but then the deadline’s up and Andrews still around!

Now Andrew and Neil have another name on their list though, Nathan and Riko gonna die.

Neil tells Andrew about Aaron, and they question Kevin, who barely knows anything but Andrew decides he wants to steal Aaron since their first kidnapping was so successful.

Uuuuh, this is really long so: they kill Riko, Nathan, and Luther, Kevin is back to being king of Palmetto and quickly takes over Carolina and everyone lives happily ever after.

(idk, if you want the ending or some shiz lemme know XDD or if you want a dif. prompt mash up also lemme know! This is so much fun XD)

#luci doesn't shut up #fics #!!!#prompt mash up #I had way too much fun with this one XDD #Literally just went buck fucking wild #hope this is alright for you non!!!#andreil #aftg #all for the game #royal au #crime au #XD #this is like #part one technically cause my fingers started cramping up typing al lthis out and I don't think people are going to like it that much #XDDD #If you do want a part two lemme know lmao #<33

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migleefulmoments · 4 years

Text

CrissColfer Strategy #2

This piece was posted on 2/19/20 but it is originally from 2018 prior to LM/DC. It’s always amusing to read their theories about big upcoming changes in Darren’s love life in light of the fact that Mia has been a steady force in Darren’s life for 10 years.

Here they are debating whether Lea will be Darren’s new beard- a theory that required them to ignore both Mia and Zandy. In this post we see justcantgetenoughcc using the “trust me I know more than you do but I can’t share it” strategy. Honestly, this is the one that baffles me the most. While I can see the slow-motion gifs for what they are- pure manipulation, I know that TLOS isn’t the Klaine bible they want it to be and I can understand how other’s can be conned with that evidence. What I can’t understand is why anyone would trust someone who continues to say “I know more than you do but I can’t share it with you...just trust me”. Those very words are literally the exact words that should raise one’s caution flag. Mommas, the one thing you should teach your children is to never trust someone who claims to know the truth but can’t share any evidence. Especially if that story goes on for 5 or 10 years.

***********************************

ilikesomedistance There was a discussion many years ago, that they (PR and F/ox) wanted to bring Lea and Darren together. But it never worked out for many reasons.

Guess it’s happening now.

stopandimaginelove But whyyyyyyyyyyyyy 🤐

justcantgetenoughcc Interesting question.

The primary reason was always to break Chris and Darren up.

RM/Ricky all playing together. AB imo not that invested but to a degree (at least initially). Even beard (she realized what she can have by getting rid of Chris and why she too is very much part of the game now). Each had their own reason for being invested, as Chris and Darren in love and united as a team, made it difficult to manipulate Darren. In a way, that - Darren and Chris in love - was also their Achilles heel. Each put the other ones’ interest first - and got manipulated in giving up their autonomy. Chris had nothing to hide as he was already out. Why would he even need a beard? They were so young and so naïve to Hollywood’s manipulation tactics. I don’t think they had anyone with industry experience, with their interests at heart, to advise them or look out for them. It was too late and they were in too deep, by the time they realized what they had agreed to. They still tried to back out of some of their worst mistakes. Some day… they will tell those stories or it will turn up in Chris’s books.

Initially people assumed that all that proximity and playing boyfriends onscreen - and no doubt their amazing chemistry - must be why they were together. I am sure they thought it will never last or they will get over it or get tired of it and move on to others once the itch was scratched. Like most young guys (as young gay guys - not my opinion at all - but a lot of people believe that).

But it didn’t happen that way. They didn’t break up. Instead they went and got engaged over Dec 2012/NYE 2013 (that was from when we have the pic of Chris looking at his ring standing next to his suitcase at an airport). They were serious from the get-go. They were ‘IT’ for each other. They were even living together (even before Glee Live 2011 - in Chris’s first rented apartment in LA). I think it was Joey who once commented that he saw Darren only when he needed more clothes (Don’t quote me on it though. Ha). When Chris bought his first home in Laurel Canyon, guess who moved in there with him? It wasn’t W as most of the fandom was led to believe. There’s enough proof in their own words and since this is going to be a long post, I am going to leave some of those details out of this. And some I can’t reveal.

Why do you think LU Tour happened? It was another attempt to break them up and also to get Darren to declare his longtime gf of a hundred years. There was no way Darren would agree to it when Chris and Darren are together. And so his team came up with the clever “DIVIDE and CONQUER” tactic. Get Darren away from Chris and break him down.

Nothing ELSE came out of LU tour and so I am right in my assumption here.

A Darren who missed Chris on the road, who was mentally and physically exhausted from his days on the tour… gave in… WITH TEARS… a heartbroken Darren was FORCED to declare a gf - reading from a script, answering questions from a script, at the Toronto Radio Interview - WHILE he was already ENGAGED to CHRIS. There are many ways I can cement the claims I am making. But they are NOT mine to share.

If you doubt me, that the intent ALWAYS was to break them up (come on guys! connect the dots!), so much has been exposed in the last two years, especially in the last six months.

Why were they forced to have beards? It wasn’t FOX (in fact there's a story not known to many that FOX was going to let Chris and Darren come out (heck they even knew of their engagement - again stories that I cannot reveal) but others disagreed/disapproved of that move and stopped it). Some of the old fandom crowd know of this. Why were their beards ALONE always allowed access to the glee set? Why were M and W paraded so much on the sets? Why was the beard woman given a job at FSO (where she did nothing really but was given free credit for work others did). Chris was already OUT. He was a grown up guy who always took care of himself even when he was much younger.

During 5.14 filming in NYC, it was clear that the film crew took care of Chris and Darren. All their needs on the set was met along with the rest of the cast present (Amber, Chord, Kevin, Lea and Darren). Even holding up their winter coats for them to slip their arms through. W didn’t do anything other than obstruct the filming (and there were a lot of complaints about W and he had to be told many times to move out of the crews way). Do you think Chris paid for W to accompany him to NYC where he wasn’t needed at all? Who had the most to gain from that decision to have W there?

The beards were ALWAYS meant to WEAR THE GUYS DOWN. To create discord between them. To grate on their nerves. To be a thorn in their side. You get the drift. It still didn’t work. Those two guys still stayed strong.

Yes, there was an attempt to END KLAINE early in S6 and use Darren/Blaine as Lea/Rachel’s LI and have them be the prime couple who got married to each other (instead of a Finchel wedding that RM always talked about) at the SERIES Finale. That didn’t work either. That story is known to many in the fandom. But is not mine to tell.

Look at all the attempts made to prevent Darren and Chris coming out. Since 2015.

I have repeated this so many times since 2015 and am going to repeat it ONE LAST TIME for the people who have joined the fandom since 2015.

Glee was filming the last season. Beards were barely on the set even with all the heavy make-out scenes (heavier Kliss scenes, emotional scenes, the elevator scene, the wedding, future Klaine etc). Guess everyone felt bearding was ending too as Glee only had a few more months left. We got the NOW FAMOUS BTS interview from the ranch - the day the Klaine wedding was being filmed - where Chris and Darren were interviewed by Leanne Aguilera (and not M). Where they admitted so much and looked radiant and vibrant. Best of all they admitted to being good friends in real life.

Then we got the Ellen Show where Darren and Chris interacted and wrote each others names (not to mention the incident where Chord slipped up and mentioned meeting Chris and Darren. Nothing dramatic happened by way of reaction or retaliation from PR). Then came the Paleyfest and the Mario Lopez radio Interview - where Chris was present with Darren and Mario in the recording room. We counted Chris’s laughter interspersed - at least five times. It wasn’t edited out. We rioted over all of those events repeatedly. It was like the CC drought was finally over. They were allowed to breathe free. And acknowledge each other. Say they were good friends with each other.

[We have proof on several claims I make here and are known to a lot of people but we can’t share them yet].

We knew they went on a European vacation that ended in Paris where Darren had to attend the CON with a few other Glee cast. Darren alone didn’t stay at the hotel where the CON was held, where the rest of the cast stayed. Ask yourself why. Darren returns to NYC and starts rehearsing for Hedwig Broadway that starts mid-April. Everyone was happy and there were several SM follows of both Darren and Chris back to back by Hedwig Crew and BTS crowd. Lot of happy tweets and fun stuff.

It felt like Darren had a few more months left to freedom. Chris plans his TLOS4 book tour around Darren’s closing show at Belasco - so that he can sit in the audience and not watch from the shadows as he did during the first 119 days of the run. Alla Plotkin, Chris’s publicist, allowed it and supported it (if there were any known contracts or clauses that prohibited Chris’s presence at the closing show, Alla wouldn’t have /couldn’t have allowed it) and planned the whole tour accordingly with Chris.

So close to freedom and to coming out… and then out of the blue, Darren’s perfectly written Broadway BIO was edited to a mess of a BIO and ‘xos to mia’ was included. Overnight Darren’s personal life got hijacked by a scheming woman and Darren’s manager. Eleni who was a longtime good friend of Jeff Jernigan, was appointed as Darren’s assistant (watchdog) at Belasco. Darren who hadn’t even seen or heard from the beard for many months, and Darren who had never displayed any real closeness to the woman - posts a dressing room kiss (long story about that too. (Read mleigh69’s post on how the Belasco kiss was staged).

From there on, everything went to hell in a hand basket. All their hopes and plans were dashed.

From that time to the present, how closely Darren is monitored and watched and babysat…is ridiculous. Darren has more people on his secret service detail, sometimes more than even the President himself (it feels like). He sang 4 songs in Utah recently and he had Ricky, AB, Jeff Jernigan, Eleni, beard and Ken Sunshine (the boss of Sunshine Sachs) with him in Utah.

All their attempts to coming out was thwarted. Chris wasn’t allowed to attend the Hedwig closing show even though he had timed it to end the day before, giving him time enough to fly to NYC from LA. Chris who had never made a career misstep, chose to put his reputation as a children’s book author on the line by acting drunk - just so he could get on a plane to NYC. He had to watch the closing show from the shadows but am sure that was preferable to being beaten or giving in to two conniving people.

Even the ENCAGE was partially to stop CrissColfer from coming out. See what the encage did. All of Darren’s commitments and obligations were OVER AND DONE with by then… except for the NOOSE called the encage now. That was pretty timely, wasn’t it?

Why is Darren going on a tour with Lea Michele when Lea’s album was poorly received and didn’t do well at all? All her shows failed. She really has nothing much going on. Hmmmm…

If am guessing, let me be wrong for one last time… WHAT IF IT IS TO KEEP CHRIS AND DARREN APART? As all their attempts and excuses to prevent Chris and Darren FROM COMING OUT ARE EXHAUSTED?

So now there are tours and MORE TOURS… where Darren's TEAM THINKS he has to remain NO HOMO for the tours to sell. They quickly got him committed to a LONDON concert while ACS was still airing.

Now ACS is over.

And sure enough, just as the ENCAGE IS COMING APART AT THE SEAMS… we have THE LM/DC TOUR!!!!

tahtah678

#crisscolfer #debunking cc lies #Lea as the new beard

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thatdragonsdrabbles · 6 years

Text

[I was struck with an idea the moment I read the ask, and I've been fiddling with it in my head until I finally sat down to write it. It got a lot longer than I had originally planned. I took a bit of liberties with the prompts (and skipped one oops)—but hey, that's half the fun! Also decided to swap between POVs some. ...RIP mobile users.]

[And yes, I was partially inspired by that one post on tumblr. You'll know the one.]

Gramm/merfolk reader, nearly 200 writing prompts “ I can’t stand the thought of loosing you. ” , 90: “ Catch me if you can! ”, 95: “ Give it back! ”

Life flowed gentle and free, just like the waters surrounding the den in the lake.

Your community wasn't large, especially not compared to the distant ocean-dwelling cousins your family met with every year... but it was home. It was calmest at the depths, a cozy blend of darkness and murk, that never failed to make the merfolk living there comfortable and safe. Lessons were led by the eldest, and even at their most strict they would never end the lesson before getting a laugh out of the students. You learned to sing, to weave, to defend, to dance.

Every new moon brought a celebration, of being one with the world around you and teasing out its greatest treasures. The waters would glow all through the night, as if the moon had trapped the sun below before hiding in shame. And every full moon, a time of reflection and inviting water sprites to visit their homes. It was a peaceful, yet lively existence, at the bottom of the lake.

Even by merfolk standards, though, you were a bit of a wild spirit.

There were very few rules to be followed in the community. Participating in the moon festivals was heavily implied, though that could be as simple as designing the decorations. Never insult a visiting sprite. Singing the fish into a frenzy was prohibited. And no one, under any circumstances, was to go upstream.

Well, you'd already managed to weasel out of your father's costume designing, tail-slapped a sprite, and you were grounded from the festival anyway for setting the eels loose to wreak havoc. (An accident, you swore. Your friends begged to differ.) And that was just this month. What was one more broken rule?

Finding an opportunity, of course, when your sister left her “troublemaker-watching” post to dance, you snuck out and darted to the northeast side of the lake.

Thanks to your many years of living in the murky depths, and the soft glow of your pendant, the darkness didn't stop you. What nearly did were the shapes that undulated like eels, but were far more massive and had extra wiggly bits. Curious, you followed them from a distance. Their scales were larger than you! Wait, no, those were plates.

After a time, you were too daring and got close enough to brush a hand across one's belly. As you thought, it was smooth and hard, like stone. But it immediately retaliated, twisting in the water to turn sharp pincers on you. You were lucky to be so nimble, as those snapped through the spot you had been. Not willing to stick around and see what it could do, you swam past them and further upstream. You hardly cared about that, distracted by adrenaline—and that was why you smacked into something so suddenly.

Shocked, you spluttered and pushed it away, heart still racing from the previous close encounter. But it was merely a frog, albeit one decently larger than you'd ever seen before. You could cradle it in your arms like a child! So many big things were upriver from your home. It swam away before you could examine it further, its belly glowing softly.

All right... now that you were away from those large things, you could admit that maybe this had been a bad idea after all. You pressed a hand to your chest, checking the flutter of your heart.

That was when you noticed the pendant was gone.

It was another quiet night on the river, and Gramm really wasn't supposed to be here. But he was looking for something. Something very important to him.

Wringing many hands, he gently poked the riverbank with the branch he'd picked up on the way. He had to be quick, but, how was he supposed to find anything in the dark? Without the moon to guide him, and unable to bring a light in fear of being caught, he had to rely on luck and the pity of the river.

Fortunately, it seemed the waters were merciful tonight, for a glimmer in them finally brought his attention to a familiar face. Chelicerae shifting, he tossed the stick aside before throwing a lasso to tug them back onto shore. He knelt on damp soil to pick them up, bringing them level with his many eyes.

“Kevin. I have been looking everywhere for you,” he scolded. “Do you know how much trouble you are in?”

“Ribbit,” said Kevin.

“By the look on your face, I doubt it.”

“Rib ribbit.”

“You are particularly chipper. I would bet, you wouldn't be so smug if I put you in time-out, would you?” Whatever frustration he had finally melted away, a free hand resting gently on the frog's head. “I can't stand the thought of losing you. So please, no more diving off the side of boats.” He decided to examine his slimy friend. His eyes were drawn to a faint glow in Kevin's belly. “What's this? Have you eaten another firefly light?”

“Hey!”

Gramm leapt to his feet, fangs extending in fear. He had been caught! Glancing about, however, proved the riverbank was still empty, save for him and his frog. Unless they were hiding? He clutched Kevin to his front, wincing as it immediately became damp.

“Give it back!”

That was much closer. He looked out to see if a boat had approached, but instead was startled to find something poking out of the water barely a leg's length away. A person? There was a person in the water! How was that possible? Hardly anyone around here could stand getting wet, let alone diving straight in.

Seeing they had his attention, they suddenly lunged forward, fingers clutching at Kevin's hindlegs, and tugged him away with surprising strength. It was all he could do to hold onto the thread lasso, nearly falling into the water before he dug some hands into the ground as anchors.

“Ah! Let—go!”

“You first!”

This person was as slippery as Kevin! They twisted with such ferocity, he was terrified he was going to be dragged in as well! But he wasn't going to lose his friend a second time today. He threw another lasso in desperation, wrapping it around the offender, and heaved—to bring something much larger than a fish flopping onto the bank. He then snatched the frog away, earning a startled squeak from him and a frustrated cry from the stranger.

“That little toad stole it!”

“Kevin is not a toad, he is a frog!” Petting the frog with one hand as others checked him over for injuries, Gramm took a few cautious steps away. “Why would you steal him?” And what was this frog-thief? They had a fish tail, but their upper half was devoid of scales or chitin.

The person wriggled until they could sit up, tugging at the thread trapping them. “He stole my necklace!”

“Necklace?”

The two of them stared at the frog's glowing belly.

There was a commotion somewhere to the northwest. Stiffening, Gramm decided to cut the thread and make a break for it. Maybe he could escape before any guards asked him what he was doing out here. The stranger called for him to wait, but he didn't pause. Swinging on silk, the tarantula left the river, swearing that he would never return.

You were sure as fish spawn getting your necklace back.

It had been an ordeal to get back home without bumping into anymore trouble, and you were chided for sneaking out. But the punishment of collecting discarded scales was the least of your worries. No one suspected you had gone so far from the lake, so at least that secret was safe. (You had your strong tail to thank for that.) Though it was only a matter of time before someone asked about your missing necklace.

It took time and patience to find chances to escape again, but at every one, you power-swam up the river to scour the bank around the spot you had run into that criminal frog. You sang in the hopes of drawing it out, but didn't find the one you needed. You kept trying, but you were afraid you'd never get it back...

And then one night, your song was interrupted by a splash.

Ducking underwater on instinct, you examined the rock sinking to the bottom. How rude! You rose once more and shouted, “That nearly hit me!”

“Quiet, quiet.”

Frowning, you watched as something came out of hiding. He certainly looked like the same individual you had witnessed run off last time: Dark short hair covering his body, a few orange markings around many limbs. And held in two of them was the offender, “Kevin.” Still glowing, and staring at you with those patterned eyes. Come to taunt, had they?

“Give me back my necklace,” you demanded. You kept a safe distance from the shore, not wanting to get tangled up again.

“You can, can have the thing, I don't want it.” His voice was barely audible, as if he were trying to keep this a secret. “Just—help me get it out of Kevin.”

You frowned, eyeing the frog. You were not getting close to that thing again. What would it steal next?

“Please. He's, he's not well, keeps spitting out this foul gas and water, and... he's going to be taken, away, if they think he keeps eating our lights.”

Common sense would say not to trust him... but even as you watched, the frog bulged, then croaked loudly. Water sloshed to the ground, which the individual stepped sidestepped with quiet chittering. You couldn't read him well, but he did seem sincerely worried.

“...all right, fine,” you huffed. “But none of that net stuff!”

“O-okay.”

You warily came onto the bank, once again disturbed by the lack of water to support you. The person was just as cautious, but eventually he was convinced to part with the frog, barring the string he had attached. Bringing Kevin up, you were subjected to another of these “burps,” and made a face at the smell.

“Oh, that's definitely saltwater.” You couldn't help gagging. Even the diluted water used for cousin-meeting made you ill.

The stranger fidgeted, using all six of his arms on various parts of his person. “Why, is there salt in the water? And, why is it in Kevin?”

You rubbed the frog's belly, feeling for the tingle of magic. “The pendant. It was a gift from my cousin.” And a prank. The memory made you snort. “Said it was the closest I could ever be to the ocean.”

“Ocean?”

His tone made you look up, searching his alien features. Was he kidding? “Yeah. The ocean. You know... The gigantic world lake?” Your cousins hated it when you called it that.

“I... no, I do not.”

“What?” You hefted the frog up, turning him around to face the stranger. “Have you never gone down the river?”

“No. I hardly touch the water, except to find Kevin...”

Now that you were in conversation with him, his voice was getting quieter and meeker. He angled his head away as you stared. But you couldn't help it! He sort of had pincers like that large creature in the river, but he also had several eyes, and was much softer with his hairs. In a way, he reminded you of the crabs your cousins had brought as gifts. You didn't think he'd taste as good, though.

“What's your name,” you finally asked, after some silence.

“...it, it's Gramm.” Then his head whipped to you as you hugged Kevin tightly. “H-hey, what—”

“Incoming!”

Splat! Gramm was rewarded with a faceful of seawater, and you, the pendant that you sought. You clutched the small twisted shell, watching it glow between your fingers. Success!

“Kevin!”

His volume returned, albeit directed at the frog instead of thanking you. It seemed that was where Kevin inherited his rudeness. You made a face, then scooted backwards on the dirt. Someone needed to be taught manners. When Gramm asked what you were doing, you flashed an impish grin. “Catch me if you can!”

And then you dived backwards into the water, frog in your arms and laughter in your throat.

What had prompted you to start this game is unclear, but you enjoyed every moment of it. The fuzzy-crab ran up and down the riverbank, following every slap of your tail, until finally he managed to craft a net to snare you in. But this time, you were practically bubbling as you were tugged onto shore, only pouting playfully as he wrenched Kevin from your grasp once more.

So you tugged them both in instead.

Gramm will be the first to admit that he never would've expected to willingly return to the river. At first it had only been his worry for Kevin, since the stories that sprung up of the haunting melodies on the waters had spooked him. And the scare you had given, tossing him in after that, almost made him swear off the river forever, again. But, you were unique, and playful, and with the pendant returned you now glowed in the waters like a firefly. And Kevin seemed to like you, so he figured you must be all right, if a bit of a pain.

...no wonder Kevin liked you.

In the end he was glad he did return, because you had such interesting stories to share. He sat as close to the water as he dared (bringing an extra set of clothes, just in case) to listen to your tales of an entire community hidden at the bottom of a lake, and the many animals that lived there. The pendant you had was apparently once home to an ocean creature, and you let him examine it and listen to the ocean breeze trapped within. You brought him an eel once. He admired it until it slapped him in the face. Of course you laughed at that.

Honestly, he liked to hear you talk, and not only because he liked animals. You were much nicer than the people he served, and you didn't view these creatures as simply livestock or ornaments. You appreciated each individual one like a neighbor—even the troublesome Kevin.

So one day, he decided to bring you a gift. Of course that was the day Kevin went for round two of Eating Things He Really Shouldn't.

Offering the frog to you, he was quiet with embarrassment as he asked you once more for help. Your laughter reminded him of the bells that rang alarms in the manor, but yours at most were a warning for your pranks. Thankfully, this was not one of them. You finally convinced Kevin to give up the goods, and found yourself with a lapful of garment.

“What is this?”

“It's... spidersilk.” Gramm held it up, shaking off the slime. Presenting it to you, he admitted, “I had to, tailor it a bit, because of the... arms... thing.”

You accepted it, looking shocked. “Wait... for me?” He muttered nervously... then nodded. Would you like it? He hoped he had remembered your favorite color right. Or maybe the dimensions were wrong. The uncertainty grew until you had finished staring at the tunic to throw your arms around him, trapping Kevin between you two. “Gramm, it's wonderful! No one at the den has anything this gorgeous! Thank you!”

Now he was wet again! He could never leave without you splashing him somehow. At least this time, he had gotten splashed from your gratitude. If he'd had a mouth like yours, he would've been beaming as he watched you shimmy into it. It wasn't like your usual attire, but you didn't seem to mind.

“What is this for? I love it,” you reassured him, “but, you didn't have to get me anything.”

He began wringing his wrists and avoiding your gaze—here was the really embarrassing part.

“I... Well. Well, there have been some, rumors about invasions from the river, since that's the only place we can never, fully defend... And you are so, fleshy.”

“Hey, we can't all be hairy crab people,” you shot back playfully. His chelicerae squeaked together.

“I just... The spidersilk, it, it's soft but it has strength to it, and... and it'll keep you safe.” You stared at him, seeming at a loss for words. He took a deep breath and admitted, “I... I can't stand the thought of losing you, to... well, whatever is in the river.”

Carefully, you picked at the fabric, testing its give. But even your roughest tugs couldn't split the threads. Your gaze met his again, understanding the gravity at last. And though he still didn't understand everything you did, there was no mistaking what it meant when your smile became brighter than even the pendant beneath your new tunic. Or the gentle touch to his leg.

“Thank you,” you told him, saying so much more with your soft laugh.

Seeing an opportunity, Kevin wriggled out of his grip to try to make another daring escape. But you and Gramm both leapt to grab the leash, creating another splash.

The tarantula may have been soaking wet once again, but being able to sit here with the two individuals most important to him... It was a secret joy he hoped to keep revisiting for the rest of his life.

#snippets #original fiction #monster boyfriend #x reader #romantic #merfolk reader #gramm #spider boyfriend #dragon writes

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a-weird-blog-in-general · 6 years

Text

ITH Medieval AU

Hey @pika-ace remember how you told me OH so long ago about this idea? Medieval times, right? Well, consider this my gift to you, b/c I love you and you deserve the best so I kind of went wild with this one.

OK see here's what I did; considering that there's the Fantasy AU very heavily based on magic/and the supernatural, I figured that a more historically based AU would be interesting for a Medieval one. So, with a bit of dabbling in research, let's say the time period is centred more so around the 1300's, in that space between the High and Late Middle Ages. Now, for the sake of the AU, some historical events are rushed or just happen at a different time than historically recorded; it's just to selfishly move the plot along b/c oh boy shit happened. Do note that the actual historical events don't HAVE TO be the real ones. Like at some point I bring up the Hundred Years War; it doesn't have to be the Hundred Years War. And as much as I've tried, there's sure to be historical misinterpretations on my part, and I ask you to forgive me if that is the case as you read on Setting: Vaguely European? A great deal of this AU is based on the European Middle Ages, and the historical events mainly surround Europe, but like I never explicitly state any locations so....? It's up to you if you want to leave it all vague or not. Also catch me with that symbolism yo. (Seriously if you want to ask me questions about places, details I included, things that happen; there's probably a symbolic reason behind it or a parallel somewhere)

Vanessa

Peasant turned knight

Came from a small farming family, part of a larger community owned by an ageing Lord

Father was a knighted commoner => taught Vanessa how to properly use a sword and told her stories of brave knights who fought off hordes of foes => gets sent off as part of a militia against another Lord and dies in combat

The conquest of the manor and the Great Famine of 1315-17 forces them off the land and move into another manor => that's when Vanessa meets Nina

Vanessa's mother, struck by grief at the loss of her husband and of their one mode of income

Vanessa, fueled by spite and anger, tired of being reduced to meagre peasantry jobs, decides she's going to work for knighthood

She and Nina are probably 12-13 at this point => Nina sees Vanessa from the church doors playing with some boys and she's curious => at some point they run into each other in front of a statue of St. Michael (foreshadowing if ya squint) and they talk, Vanessa reveals that she's trying to be a knight, and Nina wants to help her

Nina cuts Vanessa's hair (not too short now but just enough b/c she can't wear her own armour yet) and she teaches Vanessa how to read and write, and they both spy on boys to copy their mannerisms

Vanessa manages to get the attention of an old knight who's interested in seeing this youngster grow (he's probably going to be an original character) => he knows Vanessa's a girl in disguise but he doesn't mind all that much really; she can fight and she's got guts and that's all that matters => he teaches her huntsman/military stuff, and makes her his Squire

It's when she becomes his apprentice/Squire where she starts wearing armour, esp. the closed helmet to hide her face.

As a Squire she has to master the "Seven Points of Agilities" (riding, swimming, wrestling, fencing, stuff like that ALL WHILE WEARING ARMOUR) => Vanessa gets buff af

She gets knighted at 19 (the actual age is around 21 but a Squire can be knighted earlier)

She establishes herself and reputation in a jousting tournament (the thing with the horses and the lances and you gotta knock the other knight off) => See here's the thing about tournaments; knights can get injured and/or die in these things => her mentor is probably injured during a melee (it's like a free for all where the last knight standing wins) and she takes his place during the joust and wins => eventually she may earn herself a place in the Lord's Court (opportunity to get further acquainted w/ Benny who's also a knight)

(I LOVE the idea of Vanessa saving Usnavi so!) => First time she meets Usnavi she saves him from rowdy riff-raff who where threatening w/ violence and she makes it a thing to visit and protect him from trouble and potential accidents (you'll see why), extends to keeping Sonny out of trouble => in return Usnavi offers "the mysterious knight" food and a bed if she ever needs it

She ends up taking in Sonny as her Squire (he got into some serious trouble with the authorities; the church or the Lordship, one or the other or both, Pete was involved)

Nina and the Rosarios

Family of metalworkers; Kevin's a blacksmith and Camilla fashions/repairs jewellery

Nina's in training to enter the clergy => both Kevin and Camilla know it'll elevate Nina's social status and the Catholic schooling will give her something of an education => the hope is that Nina one day will be the church Abbess (kind of like Head Nun, the "Mother" if you will)

They made Nina a simple rosary with a little gold cross as the pendant; she wears it on her wrist all the time

She's so modest and humble, not just b/c of the religious teachings but also b/c she's grown surrounded by people who respect her mind but know she'll never actually become anything b/c she's female

Nina wants to be more so involved with the political happenings

Student of Scholasticism (it's basically trying to apply reason/logic to faith by holding arguments over contradictory things) => she's not very sure how she feels about it; faith and logic, try all you want, never really come together in a way that pleases everyone and the teacher's authority is always seen as superior regardless; but the practice promotes questioning and critical reasoning

Learns medicine and offers aid to knights => how she meets Benny => he gets scratched up confronting another group of knights, trying to impress Pete; Nina's the nun who happens to answer the door

Time period is characterized by persecution and expulsion of religious minorities (the inquisition/Crusades anyone) => Nina's their voice to the Catholic Church, promoting acceptance and change (this girl is going to change the world) => eventually w/ the emergence of several religious/scholar factions, plus a greater awareness of the history of the Catholic church's actions, (I feel that) Nina would want to break away from the church

She's got a lot of conflict with Faith, ethics, and the Church

Benny

Full-fledged knight w/ Pete as his Squire

Actually of Noble blood but he wasn't firstborn so he doesn't inherit much, barely anything so he had to make a name for himself

Went through the whole Page to Squire to Knight process

Claims Pete as his cousin so he could be taken as Benny's Squire

He's a member of the Lord's Court => when he and Nina have a solid friendship he tells her about the happenings and she offers advice => he's like her mechanism to access the court

He's impressed and eventually infatuated with her intelligence and wit and he believes she deserves the world but she's so modest

Benny's father was part of the Inquisition against the Beguine (female Catholic extremists characterized by self-mortification of skin by whipping, nasty stuff)

Benny's kind of in support of some of the Inquisitions (HEAR ME OUT FOR A SEC) => the Inquisitions were formed to have some kind of system to investigate cases of supposed heresy b/c the public would straight up kill people they thought were heretics. Some REAL fucked up stuff happened, and we're not justifying the actions here.

As for Benny's reasons: 1) His dad was in it and Benny was like 13 what kid doesn't admire a dad they see as a hero and 2) He understands that the point is to prevent injustice and unjust persecution, and he holds it to that ideal; Nina's perception is based more so on the Crusades, which she personally didn't approve of => potential conflict when they have that conversation

Eventually, he's called to serve in the Hundred Years War or what will be the Hundred Years War (or whatever your personal variation may be)

Has a preference for the Rosario family and highkey it's apparent that he's made himself their personal protector => lowkey it's to get on Kevin's good side b/c he's not so happy that Nina's hanging around so many knights, so if Benny manages to impress him he'll (hopefully?) be a bit more accepting of Nina hanging around Benny

Probably took an arrow to his arm once b/c split-second decision he used his arm as a shield and he tried to walk it off => that earned him a smack from Abuela Claudia

The relationship between Nina and Benny is very much based on chivalry and courting => Benny's a poetic type (coughcough their duets coughcough), but he doesn't have that artistic touch => Pete's basically his wingman even if Benny denies it, and they both argue over lines (case Benny writes poetry for Nina let me have this plz) d what sounds better; where Benny excels in language and describing the literal with flowery words, Pete's good at imagery and metaphors => Nina saves every single one

•Usnavi

Candlemaker (HEAR ME OUT) => "I illuminate the stories of the people on the street" sound familiar? => This is entirely selfish I just wanted to pull Usnavi away from the "grocer" role and give him a role with a bit more symbolic significance

He makes the best candles b/c they don't smell that bad (candles were typically made of tallow which is like animal fat and smelled nasty when burned) => I imagine it's a mixture of beeswax and kitchen fats and the wicks are threaded with materials like cinnamon (which would have been expensive so only a little bit) so they give off a better smell than burning fat => typically made for the church and they don't pay that much

Also makes wax figurines => typical stuff like figures of saints and animals but he's got a collection of figurines of people he knows (Sonny, the Rosario's, Abuela Claudia; he can never get the mysterious knight to look right)

When he was being threatened and Vanessa saved him, the rabble was going to throw hot wax in his face; Vanessa blocked it with her shield like a badass

He vaguely knows the mysterious knight by reputation alone but now he has the chance to actually know them personally and how? Can he possibly??? Repay them?? => every time the knight visits he tries to hide the tallow smell and makes them a meal, and learns that they like the smell of cinnamon so he gifts them one of his cinnamon candles

Trying to teach Sonny how to carry on the business; o/c Sonny doesn't want to => Sonny makes the candle too big and uses too much wick so the flame comes out huge and the burning candle makes a huge wax mess

When Sonny gets in trouble Usnavi reluctantly has to allow Sonny to be Vanessa's Squire; he sees it as the mysterious knight so he believes Sonny's in good hands

Meets Vanessa as herself thanks to Sonny => Sonny knows Vanessa's catching feelings and Usnavi's very interested in the mysterious knight that is Vanessa, so if Usnavi meets Vanessa and realizes that they have the same character, he'll put two and two together and see that they're the same person (except Usnavi's real fucking dense about it)

Sonny

Frisky little boy who becomes Vanessa's Squire

Wants to be a knight but Usnavi doesn't want him to and in theory, it shouldn't be possible b/c they're not nobles or rich or anything

Pete tells him stories about travels with Benny and Sonny's jealous™

Accidentally gets caught up in a problem between a noble and Usnavi => Sonny punched the noble in the face b/c they made a snide comment about the smell; Pete helped => the noble was a relative of the Lord and they're threatening to punish both Sonny and Pete; Pete gets out of it b/c Benny pops up and talks him out of it; Vanessa comes in with the whole "he's my Squire" but noble's not going to take that excuse so they demand proof from the Lord himself => Sonny insists that the only solution is to let him be Vanessa's Squire and Usnavi goes through w/ it; it's that or a public flogging so....

He's a troublemaker; he's brash and charges into conflict just to protect someone => Vanessa tries to teach him that he doesn't have to punch everyone in the face to demand attention and solve a problem

Sonny and Pete complain to each other about trying to get their respective lovebirds together

Crafty with mechanisms; he and Pete mess around with random things and make tiny catapults that break after one use but it's fun

Probably broke his sword twice; first time it was funny, the second time it was serious™

Writes poems for Nina; it's more so out of emotional attachment => they're not as eloquent as Benny's but they're sweet and Nina saves her favourites

Abuela Claudia

Your local herbologist who practices apothecary

Lives next door to Usnavi and Sonny (or as close to next door as you can get; more like reasonable walking distance) => supplies Usnavi with the herbs to weave into the candles

Has wisdom and knowledge beyond her years => she's seen war, the rise and fall of monarchies and empires; she's seen stuff => wise elder™ tbh how has she lived so long

Literally, the only one everyone trusts as a midwife

She's got this unchallenged respect where it's like she'll make you food and tell you stories but you don't cross her. You just don't

Has a collection of odd trinkets stored away, the most impressive and beautiful being a little crown of feathers, collected from birds that hang on her roof => she ends up giving it to Vanessa

Some say she's just a smart old woman, other's claim she's a witch => she is persecuted at some point and accused

She passes away peacefully in her sleep one day => the accusations are still strong with the public and so they burn her body

Pete

Squire with an affinity for art

Very crafty with his hands, can work out fine details

Was hired to make the small stone figurines of the Saints for the church => realized stonework wasn't for him

Was caught stealing pigments for paints and the shop owner turned him in to Benny => they were going to cut off his hands, Benny intervenes and makes up a lie about Pete being his cousin and he's let off the hook => Pete doesn't want that to happen again and through conversation he learns Pete doesn't have anyone watching out for him and he's kind of just fending for himself, so Benny offers to take him in as his Squire

At first Pete didn't want to => too restricting and he doesn't see himself as a "knight/hero" type of character => Sonny convinces him to accept for two reasons: 1) it'll be cool and awesome and he'll go on adventures and do awesome knight things and 2) He'll be able to tell Sonny all about it and (maybe?) put in a good word with someone to let him be a knight

Pete and Benny got that teasing sibling relationship going on; most of the times they go to see Nina and/or Abuela Claudia it's b/c they were showing off and did something stupid

Daniela and Carla

Innkeepers who don't take shit from anyone

Daniela's widowed, which allows her to own the albeit small property

Carla owes a debt to Daniela, and that's why she's employed; no one knows what the debt is, and no one wants to really know

All secrets and dirty details are shared in those walls => good stories and very good gossip

Vanessa worked there for a while => Daniela and Carla assume she's working somewhere else b/c they don't see her around much

No one messes with either of them or any of the employees => anyone tries to get a little too close to comfort, they'll be out back in the middle of the night barfing up their insides

Notorious reputation

Now the plot... where is it? Y'all can branch it off in whatever direction you'd like, but if I was to go on about my idea, we'd be here for a while and it'd read more like a literature essay b/c I got symbolism and parallels stuck up in my head. But this is a good start, I believe. Delving into it might take a bit more time.

#In The Heights #in the heights au #medieval au #this is your gift pika!#it's very late i know #but i hope you like it!

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slamsams-blog · 4 years

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For Your Eyes Only - #24WeeksofBond

This week we travel back in time to 1981 with “For Your Eyes Only” - also could be known as “When Bond Came Back to Earth”. Roger Moore’s films had been getting a little cartoony and comical, and then they put Bond in space with “Moonraker”, essentially jumping the shark. They had taken Bond as far as they could take him, and now they needed to bring the series back down to earth and give it a fresh coat of paint. “For Your Eyes Only” is a story of two governments vying for the same prize while also being a tale of revenge. This movie has its moments, and plenty of layers - but in my view, just misses the mark on excitement.

Roger Moore is back in the saddle of Bond, only because they couldn’t find a replacement. Moore was having his reservations about playing the role due to his age, and after his original contract expired after “The Spy Who Loved Me”, Moore signed a film by film deal, where there were essentially no strings attached. If they felt that they needed Moore, and if Moore wanted another payday, then we got Moore Bond. (see what I did there?). You definitely start seeing Moore’s age more noticeably starting with this movie - but he’s still not “A View To A Kill” old yet so we are still in the clear.

What I do like is how they used his age here. After meeting a young olympic skater in training, she starts smitten with Bond right away, and Moore plays the uncomfortable and awkwardness perfectly. Moore was an excellent eye actor. His ability to clue you in on Bond’s inner thoughts by acting with his eyes is something I’ve always appreciated with Roger’s movies. As they say in comedy, less is Moore...(ok, I’ll stop). But one of my favorite moments in this film is when the skater Bibi (Lynn-Holly Johnson) is in Moore’s bed inviting him for some good times, Bond says in such a Roger Moore way - “Yes well, you get your clothes on...and I’ll buy you an ice cream.” That line makes me chuckle literally every time.

Let’s talk about this pre-title sequence shall we? In one of the more memorable scenes in this rather un-memorable movie is the opening. Lots to unpack here. We open up with Bond at Teresa Bond’s grave, his one and only true love. This is again, one of the rare through lines throughout this franchise. We know how Bond’s parents died when he was a kid, we know SPECTRE, and we know Bond’s wife was killed. So here we are with Bond Moore-ning his late wife...(that was the last one). He is told that MI6 is coming to get him via helicopter. Bond gets in only for the helicopter to be hijacked by a familiar bald head. Blofeld makes a random appearance here after not being seen or heard from since “Diamonds are Forever”. I always found this odd. But anyway, Blofeld takes over the helicopter by remote control to have some fun at Bond’s expense. But Bond manages to get to the driver’s seat after hanging on to the side of the chopper as Blofeld is trying to knock him off. It’s a wonderfully intense scene.

Bond gets to the driver seat, and this is where Blofeld always manages to muck it up. This is why Blofeld never took care of Bond, because he lets him GET TO THE DAMN DRIVER’S SEAT! Bond takes control and scoops up Blofeld (who is in a wheel chair with a neck brace for some unknown reason) and dumps him down a huge chimney. Now story has it, they were not legally able to use Blofeld and SPECTRE anymore because Kevin Mclory (the Thunderball producer who you can read about in my Thunderball blog) owned the rights to them because of his legal victory in obtaining the rights of the Thunderball story. How annoying is that? So they never say his name, and this scene was meant to be a statement to Mr. Mclory that they didn’t need those characters anymore and that they were literally dumping them.

I thought maybe this time around, I would discover a connection between that scene and the rest of the film...but no. That opening is humorous and action packed, but it’s all for nought because it has nothing to do with anything. The real story begins with a naval fleet that has an “ATAC” being attacked by an unknown source. This ATAC is an important control unit that is able to fire ballistic missiles where ever you want. If fallen into the wrong hands, it could be a disaster. Of course Russia is involved, and they are trying to get it along with England.

But another layer to the story is that a man in Greece, who was contacted by MI6 to get it, is gunned down with his wife in front of their daughter who ends up being Melina Havelock (Carole Bouquet). They really had an opportunity here with Melina. She had a dark, and dangerous look and strapped her with a crossbow after she witnessed her parents die. These were the ingredients for a DC Comics type superhero. I think they wanted to make her full Green Arrow, but were maybe afraid to go too far away from the damsel in distress type that Bond girls had a reputation for. She has these moments where she attacks from the shadows, but still cries for James when she’s in trouble. The balance is just off, and it makes the character weaker than she should be. Not Carole’s fault, just poor writing.

Bond goes to Greece where he meets Kristatos (Julian Glover) who tells him the man who payed off the guy who killed Melina’s father was is working for a man named Columbo (Topol). So Bond starts to dig more, but keeps getting hunted down by men trying to stop him from the truth. Almost everyone Bond comes into contact with in this film ends up dead. Something is going on and Bond is forced to have eyes in the back of his head. We get some fun scenes along the way here with a car chase where Bond is driving a ragged Beetle, and a fun ski chase with awesome “Shaft” style music.

Bond kills Locgue (the man who payed the parent assasin) and is now on the hunt for Columbo. This movie is like a video game where there are all these different levels, and every level has a boss. Bond is now ready for the “big boss”; the Bowser or Gannon, if you will.

But Columbo finds him and convinces Bond that Kristatos is the real Bowser. Topol is great in this movie, he was primarily known for his broadway career, but he is able to bring all that charm to the screen and does a wonderful job of making you love him. Bond and Columbo are now working together and they go to infiltrate Kristato’s lair. This scene also gives me the willy’s. Bond has to be an epic mountain climber, but gets caught and kicked off. We see Bond free falling like Tom Petty until his rope catches him. That’s the stuff of nightmares there.

Anyway, they storm the castle, kill Kristatos, and destroy the ATAC so nobody has it. Leaving no country to worry about them using it against any other country. Yay. Feels like a pretty hollow accomplishment at the end. But at least we get a funny parody of Margaret Thatcher speaking to a parrot who she thinks is Bond. Not sure how accurate the parody was back then, but I’m sure it got roars of laughter?

To me, while we have a decent amount of action like the yacht scene where Kristatos is pulling Bond and Melina through the shark filled waters - the film falls short of any color what so ever. This movie is littered with forgettable characters and villains that don’t leave you as the viewer feeling invested. And while the plot may be deep and layered, the execution of it is just sleepy and un inspired. This sort of begins the twilight of the Moore Bond films, and little did the producers know that they would get two more films out of him.

Well that’s it for me this week. What did you all think? Let me hear you!

Reviews from Friends:

Jake Benrud

The Blofeld scene is comical. He could have killed Bond so much easier than that. His downfall is he lets him get out of his sight and assume it all goes according to plan. I guess that's the story with any Bond Villain. Similar to Dr. Evil's, "I'm going to leave them alone and not actually witness them dying, I'm just gonna assume it all went to plan. What?" This one I don't understand why the Olympic skater was infatuated with Bond. He's so old in this one. Also, that's possibly the worst car anti-theft system ever.

24 Weeks of Bond will return next Monday with -

The Man With the Golden Gun

#James Bond #Roger Moore #for your eyes only #Topol #24WeeksofBond

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sdog1blog · 4 years

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Susan

Danny had left a message with my roommate that he had the guitar and would have it at the shop. The guitar, a Gibson J45 was a model that I'd been chasing, so I was interested, that he believed it was from the 1940's piqued my interest.

Susan had spent the night with me and I asked if she wanted to join me, warning her that Danny worked in a porn shop. She shrugged indicating that was not a big deal, but she wanted to stop at the house she was crashing at to shower and change clothes. So off we went.

I waited in the van, while Susan took care of her hygiene. This was Minneapolis in July of 1980 and the house was a crash pad for left over hippies and misfits that were what was left of the 60's counterculture. I preferred to keep my distance.

Waiting, gave me a chance to ruminate on Susan. We had met a month before, she had just landed in town or maybe it was returned to town after having lived in California for a couple years. She had only been here a few days when we met and I'll admit I was smitten. She may have been the only woman who sent a shudder through my body when I touched her. I had it bad, but there was something about her that bothered me.

To start with, she was pretty vague about where she was from, saying only it was New Jersey and Delaware, why she originally came to Minneapolis and what she did in California. When I say vague, I mean at times she was even evasive.

I looked up to see Susan coming down the walk, I licked my lips in appreciation. She had fixed her reddish-blond hair in the usual pixie bob, a colorful halter top over cutoff jeans that showed just an inch of her ass cheeks all supported by those lovely, long legs on platform sandals. She'd give the regulars at the porn shop an image to masturbate to in the video booths. And looking back, I bet she knew it.

The porn shop Danny worked at was at 5th and Hennepin on the street level of the Lumber Exchange building, a Victorian era survivor. I don't remember who owned the porn shop, it was probably Ferris Alexander, who owned several similar business in the Twin Cities. It was across the street from a couple of the cities oldest gay bars, so the clientele tended to be gay, often seeking anonymous sex.

Before leaving my house, I called my local Gibson guitar expert, who gave me information on what to look for on vintage J45's and importantly, what would be the rough range for the serial numbers. Danny's guitar played well and sounded great, but it wasn't vintage, it was probably 10 years old. It was beat up, lots of pick scratches and the odd ding in the wood, but no real damage, just a well used instrument.

Given that Danny was the seller, it didn't surprise me that the goods, didn't fit the description. Danny reminded me of a friend of my father’s, Chuck. Chuck like Danny were perpetrators of the small con, they never lied, but they'd lead you down a path and like Chuck, Danny always had something interesting to sell.

When we were kids, if one of us wanted something, a TV, a stereo or as teens, something for our cars, Dad would say, he'd talk to Chuck. Chuck being one of those guys who sold merchandise out the trunk of his car, the car always being a several years old Cadillac. The stuff was stolen of course, but you didn't ask questions. Once when I was fresh mouthed teen, my mother told dad that she needed a new refrigerator, he offered his Chuck line, to which I snarkly replied, “Yeah he probably got one in his trunk”. The old man had been drinking and in a bad mood, so it shouldn't have been a surprise when he cuffed me with the back of his hand across my face, the phony ruby ring he wore, opening a crescent shape gash in my cheek. A scar that a surprising number of girls have found sexy. Go figure.

Both Danny and I are from north of Boston and when we met, we both engaged in the game of what city. I guessed that he was from Medford or Malden so I asked him to say Medford, it came out as Mefford, I smiled. It took him a bit longer to figure me out as I has spent the years since high school suppressing my accent. But given a few beers the dese, dems and doses of mill city Merrimack Valley came pouring out. Yeah, Lawrence, but more specifically identifying South Lawrence in a futile attempt to distinguish my origins from the rest of that decrepit place. But Danny could see through that.

While I wandered to Minneapolis after college in search of a fertile music scene away from my family, Danny came earlier when his mother remarried and moved the family to her husband's home in Worthington. To get to Worthington, you go out to Bum F@ck Egypt and take a right. Danny was 15 then and bolted to the Twin Cities right after high school.

Danny's reaction to Susan coming through the door was predictable, he straightened up, wiped the bread crumbs from his chin, brushed off his clothes and ran his fingers through his hair, all in an attempt for him to look presentable. While I looked over the guitar he flirted with Susan, playing Johnny the Dunce and asking her lots of questions, often repeating the same ones, all punctuated with him saying, "we've met before, haven't we" and "where do I know you from?"

After playing the guitar for about 15 minutes, I told Danny, that it was a nice instrument, but I needed to think about it. But I had already decided not to get it.

Out on the sidewalk, I commented to Susan, that it seemed that she and Danny had hit off. She allowed he was kind of cute and a pest. That made me laugh and I followed up with, "Well do you know him from somewhere?" Her denial wasn't completely convincing, just before the no was to leave her lips, her eyes, that were meeting mine, darted away.

Danny called a day or so later, he had another buyer, but wanted give me last dibs, i.e., he wanted to see if I would pay more. Before we hung up, he started, "Ya know, but the way. That chick, the one you were with." "Susan?" I interjected. "Ya her" he replied, "I know'd, I know'd her from some place." I didn't respond and let him continue. "After youse left, I browsed through a few magazines and there she was in the centerfold of Ass Magic, taking a big old dick up the shit pipe." "How can you be sure that the girl in magazine was her?" I asked. He came back with "Oh it's her. I bet she has a small tatoo, maybe a star, about the size of a quarter near her pussy, just to left of her pubes. She also likes suckin cock."

Susan did have a small tattoo on her pelvis, though it was the symbol for anarchy not a star. She did like giving blowjobs, when we first slept together she played with the tip of my cock with her tongue occasionally, sliding down my dick. For a moment she stopped and looked at me mischievously and said, "I have no gag reflex," then consumed me. She swallowed the jizz as well. But anal, no, every time I tried the backdoor, she'd wave me off.

I filed Danny's report in my mind along with her surprise announcement a couple of weeks earlier that she was going to take a few shifts at Augie's to supplement the secretarial work she took from a temp agency. There was more to my lovely friend than met the eye.

In those days I made my living as a musical Paladin, Have Guitar, Will Travel so to speak. Plus banjo, fiddle, bass, mandolin, piano, pretty much if it had strings, I played it. Rock, jazz, blues, country, bluegrass, it didn't matter. What was the progression, which key and hum me a few bars for the melody and I was ready.

Most players I knew formed a band and headed out on the road. Been there, done that and hated it. So I eked out a living sitting in with bands who were missing a player, some solo acoustic work on the folk circuit and serving as a band member for faded rock and country acts who no longer could afford to take a group on the road. Add to that, a bit of session work, mostly commercial work tied to TV and radio advertising and I made a living. After a while I stopped worrying about where the next dollar would come from and just knew that it would come. I was also pretty smug that I'd manage to scrape together enough money to put a down payment on a little house on the wrong side of the tracks in So. Minneapolis, something my friends couldn't dream about.

The following Tuesday, I sat in with a blues band at the Cabooze. Kate, who headlined the band was touted in the local music press as someone who should be the next Janis Joplin. It, if, she only got a chance. Well there were reasons Kate wouldn't go pass being a regional name, but it was impolite to discuss them. Anyway that week she was in tough position as she was missing 2 band members and had firm gigs in the next fourteen days.

Tommy, her lead guitarist, had turned himself into detox and would be spending the next two or three weeks at Hazelden, trying to get straight. Tom was a good guy and while it took about five or so attempts, he finally conquered his demons and was sober for nearly twenty years before he was killed riding home from work on his bicycle by a drunk driver. Cal, her drummer was sitting in the county jail unable to make bail after being arraigned for raping a fifteen year old, he went away for a long time. For me, I had eight paydays coming and a girlfriend with whom I was love struck. Life was good.

Before the show, a friend, Kevin, came by to show me a guitar he just bought, it was the J45 and it was of 1940's vintage he raved. Kev was a bit naive, I chose not to break his bubble. Later when Danny showed up, I confronted him about the lie and he shrugged saying, "people will believe what they want to believe," looked hard at me and walked away.

We started at 9, the crowd was small, but by the end of the set, respectable for a Tuesday and there was energy in the house, Kate could rock. At sets end, the substitute drummer and I headed for the bar, while the rest of the band went off chasing white lines.

Before my beer arrived, Susan came out of the crowd followed by a friend, who's name I didn't catch. I knew she wouldn't be staying as this was a dancing night and I'd pick her up at close. I and every other guy watched her leave, it was those legs and the tight, slut length mini dress, we were entranced. After they left, a guy who drives a cab, mentioned that the other woman looked an awful lot like a hooker that he'd driven around the previous week.

Augie's is also on 5th and Hennepin, across from the Lumber exchange building. Hennepin was a one-way then, heading toward the river with lane for buses and cabs going in the other direction

I came down 5th and was caught at the light. She was waiting in front of the club, the Augie's bouncers standing out front chatting with the bouncers from the Brass Rail. She saw me flash the headlights and walked the 50 or so feet to the corner. She got in, we kissed and I asked her where she wanted to go. "I'm hungry," was her response. "Mama's OK," I asked and she nodded affirmatively.

Breakfast at Mama's was on Riverside, just off Cedar on the West Bank. It opened at midnight, on the weekends, after the bars closed, the line would stretch around the building, But on a Wednesday morning getting a table was easy.

We got home around 2:30 and she went right to bed and by the time I went to join her, she was sleeping like a baby. "So much for a bit of nooky," I thought. Not really tired, I poured a glass of brandy, rolled a joint and went out on the porch. Being alone, in the dark started me thinking, about her of course. What I knew and the new info, that she worked in porn. Also there were other photo shoots and movies in which she appeared, and the possible hooker friend. That last snippet of information was making me paranoid. The coming weekend, I'd be playing with Kate's band in the far northwest suburbs, while Susan would be dancing at Augie's on Thursday and Friday, and then on Saturday working a private party with the suspected hooker.

A couple of years earlier, I'd sworn off stripper girlfriends due to the drama they were bringing into my life. Probably because I had a defective selection procedure, the dancers I dated were emotional toxic waste dumps. Susan wasn't that, but I suspected something that would have been worse, that she was emotionally hardened.

The previous week, I was to meet her at the end of her shift at Augie's after I finished playing a recording session at a nearby studio. The session had gone sideways, when one member of the duo what we were backing showed up too stoned to work. So I went by the club a couple of hours early.

Augie's opened in the mid 40's as a caberet and night club, at some point strippers were added, then the live music faded away and the strippers were what was left. In the early 80's the interior seemed quite like it must have been in the dives hey day. As you came in to the right, was the bar and in the back corner a stage that connected to the back bar and the main bar allowing the dancers to walk up the bar if they chose. In the center, there were tables, but it was once a dance floor and to the left small tables were arranged on risers, each row a bit higher than the one in front.

I entered as she was finishing her stage set, collecting her money and disappearing into the dressing room. The bar stool, closest the street was empty, so I took it. She came out a few minutes later to work the room, having changed to a sheer nightie and a g-string.

She didn't notice me as I watched her work the room. This was in the days before private rooms for lap dances. Working the room consisted of a few things, table dances, company, sitting with a guy and letting him paw you and convincing the mark to buy a $3 bottle of champagne for $30, for which the dancer received half.

She had told me she had never danced before and I'd believed her. But watching her work that night I began to doubt her. She was simply, to efficient and cold. While most of the girls would look away when groped, Susan could look them straight in the eye and smile as some loser felt her up. She sold a lot of champagne.

I was convincing myself that I should enjoy the ride while it lasted but not to become to invested.

Epilogue

A couple of months later, Susan announced she was going back to LA for a while, but would be back. She was gone about a year, when I got a call from her asking if I could pick her up at the airport and could she stay with me till she found a place of her own.

I'd very recently had begun dating a woman, a nice stable person with a normal professional day job. I asked her if she minded, I won’t say she didn’t but didn’t make a scene. We'd eventually marry and she still puts up with me.

Susan stayed with me for about a week and she was clear she had no interest in rekindling our romance. She had set her sights on marrying a doctor and got a secretarial job at a local hospital to facilitate it. She was successful, a nice guy but it lasted only a few years. After that she began meowing and scratching at my door again.

Mostly, but not entirely could I resist her and then she went off and found another husband, who either ignored her behavior or was willfully blind. I guess they're still together. Susan drifted in and out of my life for about 20 years till we had another falling out and I decided to say good riddance.

Danny married one of the girls who worked the peep show, moved to the burbs and had a couple of kids. He left the porn shop and took a job selling cars. He was good at it and eventually opened a used car lot of his own. But larceny and Danny ran in tandem and he was busted for title washing and dealing in stolen cars.

While on Covid-19 lock down, I was browsing a vintage porno tube and low and behold came across an orgy scene that featured her. There was no credit, but using the name of the star(s) I found several more. It seemed her specialty was blowjobs, anal and gang bangs. Never could find a stage name, but she showed up in a few dozen clips. Her memory triggered the urge to write this down.

#SDog1-1

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bountyofbeads · 5 years

Text

TRUMP, INC.

Never-Before-Seen Trump Tax Documents Show Major Inconsistencies

The president’s businesses made themselves appear more profitable to lenders and less profitable to tax officials. One expert calls the differing numbers “versions of fraud.”

by Heather Vogell | Published October 16, 2019 4:00 AM EDT | Posted October 16, 2019 6:50 PM ET | Listen👂 to Podcast On Website |

Documents obtained by ProPublica show stark differences in how Donald Trump’s businesses reported some expenses, profits and occupancy figures for two Manhattan buildings, giving a lender different figures than they provided to New York City tax authorities. The discrepancies made the buildings appear more profitable to the lender — and less profitable to the officials who set the buildings’ property tax.

For instance, Trump told the lender that he took in twice as much rent from one building as he reported to tax authorities during the same year, 2017. He also gave conflicting occupancy figures for one of his signature skyscrapers, located at 40 Wall Street.

Lenders like to see a rising occupancy level as a sign of what they call “leasing momentum.” Sure enough, the company told a lender that 40 Wall Street had been 58.9% leased on Dec. 31, 2012, and then rose to 95% a few years later. The company told tax officials the building was 81% rented as of Jan. 5, 2013.

A dozen real estate professionals told ProPublica they saw no clear explanation for multiple inconsistencies in the documents. The discrepancies are “versions of fraud,” said Nancy Wallace, a professor of finance and real estate at the Haas School of Business at the University of California-Berkeley. “This kind of stuff is not OK.”

New York City’s property tax forms state that the person signing them “affirms the truth of the statements made” and that “false filings are subject to all applicable civil and criminal penalties.”

The punishments for lying to tax officials, or to lenders, can be significant, ranging from fines to criminal fraud charges. Two former Trump associates, Michael Cohen and Paul Manafort, are serving prison time for offenses that include falsifying tax and bank records, some of them related to real estate.

“Certainly, if I were sitting in a prosecutor’s office, I would want to ask a lot more questions,” said Anne Milgram, a former attorney general for New Jersey who is now a professor at New York University School of Law.

Trump has previously been accused of manipulating numbers on his tax and loan documents, including by his former lawyer, Cohen. But Trump’s business is notoriously opaque, with records rarely surfacing, and up till now there’s been little documentary evidence supporting those claims.

That’s one reason that multiple governmental entities, including two congressional committees and the office of the Manhattan district attorney, have subpoenaed Donald Trump’s tax returns. Trump has resisted, taking his battles to federal courts in Washington and New York. And so the question of whether different parts of the government can see the president’s financial information is now playing out in two appeals courts and seems destined to make it to the U.S. Supreme Court. Add to that a Washington Post account of an IRS whistleblower claiming political interference in the handling of the president’s audit, and the result is what amounts to frenetic interest in one person’s tax returns.

ProPublica obtained the property tax documents using New York’s Freedom of Information Law. The documents were public because Trump appealed his property tax bill for the buildings every year for nine years in a row, the extent of the available records. We compared the tax records with loan records that became public when Trump’s lender, Ladder Capital, sold the debt on his properties as part of mortgage-backed securities.

ProPublica reviewed records for four properties: 40 Wall Street, the Trump International Hotel and Tower, 1290 Avenue of the Americas and Trump Tower. Discrepancies involving two of them — 40 Wall Street and the Trump International Hotel and Tower — stood out.

There can be legitimate reasons for numbers to diverge between tax and loan documents, the experts noted, but some of the gaps seemed to have no reasonable justification. “It really feels like there’s two sets of books — it feels like a set of books for the tax guy and a set for the lender,” said Kevin Riordan, a financing expert and real estate professor at Montclair State University who reviewed the records. “It’s hard to argue numbers. That’s black and white.”

The Trump Organization did not respond on the record to detailed questions provided by ProPublica. Robert Pollack, a lawyer whose firm, Marcus & Pollack, handles Trump’s property tax appeal filings with the city, said he was not authorized to discuss the documents. A spokeswoman for Mazars USA, the accounting firm that signed off on the two properties’ expense and income statements, said the firm does not comment on its work for clients. Executives with Trump’s lender, Ladder Capital, declined to be quoted for the story.

In response to ProPublica’s questions about the disparities, Laura Feyer, deputy press secretary for New York Mayor Bill de Blasio, said of the Trump International Hotel and Tower, “The city is looking into this property, and if there has been any underreporting, we will take appropriate action.”

Taxes have long been a third rail for Trump. Long before he famously declined to make his personal returns public, a New York Times investigation concluded, Trump participated in tax schemes that involved “outright fraud,” and that he had formulated “a strategy to undervalue his parents’ real estate holdings by hundreds of millions of dollars on tax returns.” Trump’s former partners in Panama claimed in a lawsuit, which is ongoing, that Trump’s hotel management company failed to pay taxes on millions in fees it received. Spokespeople for Trump and his company have denied any tax improprieties in the past.

In February, Cohen told Congress that Trump had adjusted figures up or down, as necessary, to obtain loans and avoid taxes. “It was my experience that Mr. Trump inflated his total assets when it served his purposes,” Cohen testified, “and deflated his assets to reduce his real estate taxes.”

The two Trump buildings with the most notable discrepancies shared a financial trait: Both were refinanced in 2015 and 2016 while Trump was campaigning for president. The loan for 40 Wall Street — $160 million — was then the Trump Organization’s biggest debt.

The fortunes of 40 Wall Street have risen and fallen repeatedly since it was constructed in 1930. Once briefly in the running to become the world’s tallest skyscraper (before being eclipsed by the Chrysler Building and then others), the 71-story landmark had an illustrious history before falling into disrepair as it changed hands multiple times.

Trump says in his book “Never Give Up” that he took over 40 Wall Street for $1 million during a down market in 1995. Others have reported the price as $10 million. Trump gave the property his signature treatment, decking out the lobby in Italian marble and bronze and christening it “The Trump Building.” Tenants such as American Express moved in.

But the rent rolls suffered when big-name tenants fled to Midtown in the years after the Sept. 11 attacks. Less blue-chip operations replaced them. In recent years, there were more setbacks. About two years ago, for example, high-end food purveyor Dean & Deluca canceled plans to locate an 18,500-square-foot emporium on the higher-priced first floor. The space remains empty.

The building at 40 Wall was underperforming, charging below-market rents, according to credit-rating agency Moody’s. Its profits were lagging.

Trump’s company, which has sometimes struggled to obtain credit because of his history of bankruptcies and defaults, turned for relief to a financial institution where Donald Trump had a connection: Ladder Capital, which employs Jack Weisselberg, the son of the Trump Organization’s longtime CFO, Allen Weisselberg. Ladder is a publicly traded commercial real estate investment trust that reports more than $6 billion in assets. In 2015, and still today, Jack Weisselberg was an executive director whose job was to make loans.

Trump and Jack Weisselberg had history together. Jack was at UBS, in its loan origination department, in 2006, when the Swiss bank loaned Trump $7 million for his piece of the Trump International Hotel and Tower. Allen Weisselberg had bought a condo from Trump in one of his buildings for a below-market price of $152,500 in 2000. He deeded it to Jack three years later for about $148,000. Jack sold the unit for more than three times as much in 2006. (Jack Weisselberg declined to comment on Ladder’s loans or his relationship with the Trump Organization.)

Even with a sympathetic lender, the struggles at 40 Wall Street would normally raise questions. Trump’s representatives needed to demonstrate signs of the building’s financial health if they wanted a new loan with a lower interest rate.

They had a compelling piece of data, it seemed. Trump’s team told Ladder that occupancy was rebounding after registering a lackluster 58.9% on Dec. 31, 2012. Since then, Trump representatives reported, the building had signed new tenants. Income from them hadn’t fully been realized yet, largely because of free-rent deals, they said. But after 2015, they predicted, revenues would surge.

“That’s a selling point for people in the business,” said Riordan, who was previously the executive director of the Rutgers Center for Real Estate. Borrowers “want to show tremendous leasing momentum.” The steepness of such a rise in occupancy at the Trump building was unusual, Riordan and other experts said.

Documents submitted to city property tax officials show no such run-up. Trump representatives reported to the tax authorities that the building was already 81% leased in 2012.

“What is bizarre is that you have these tax filings that are totally different,” Riordan said. A gap of at least 10 percentage points between the two occupancy reports persisted for the next two years, before the figures in the tax and loan reports synced in January 2016.

The portrayal of a rapid rise in occupancy, and the explanation that income would soon follow, were critical for the refinancing. Indeed, Ladder’s underwriters were predicting that 40 Wall Street’s profits would more than double after 2015. Having reviewed Trump’s financial statements and rent roll, they estimated the building would clear $22.6 million a year in net operating income.

Ladder needed credit ratings agencies like Moody’s and Fitch to endorse its income expectations and give the loan a favorable rating, which would in turn make it easier for the next step of the plan: to package the loan as part of a bond, a so-called commercial mortgage-backed security, and sell it to investors. Without the expected rise in income, Riordan said, the loan size or terms would likely have needed to be renegotiated to satisfy the ratings agencies and investors, which would mean less favorable terms for Trump and Ladder. “There was a story crafted here,” Riordan said. “It’s contradicted by what we see in the tax filings.”

Wallace, the University of California professor, added: “Especially in underwriting loans, you are supposed to truthfully report.” Both the lender and the borrower are required to supply accurate information, she said.

Moody’s and Fitch analysts found the underwriter’s projections slightly too rosy, but Fitch conferred an investment-grade rating on the loan, allowing it to proceed as planned. Trump ultimately received a 10-year loan with a lower interest rate than the building previously had as well as terms that would allow him to defer paying off much of the principal until the end of the loan.

Once granted, the loan to 40 Wall Street ran into trouble: The year after it went through, the loan servicer put it on a “watch list” because of concerns that the building wasn’t making sufficient profit to pay the debt service with enough of a margin. It stayed on the list for three months. (Trump’s company has continued making payments.)

As of 2018, the most recent year available, the building had never met the underwriters’ profit expectations, trailing by more than 8%, according to data from commercial real estate research service Trepp. Experts say that, given the amount of research underwriters do, a property typically meets their expectations fairly quickly.

The 40 Wall Street documents contain discrepancies related to costs as well as to occupancy. Generally, there are “more opportunities to play games on the expense side,” said Ron Shapiro, an assistant professor at Rutgers Business School and a former bank senior vice president, “particularly because there are many more kinds of expenses.”

Comparing specific expense items in both sets of records is challenging, because accountants may group categories differently in reports to tax and loan officials. But some differences on 40 Wall Street documents elicit head-scratching.

For example, insurance costs in 2017 were listed as $744,521 in tax documents and $457,414 in loan records.

Then there was the underlying lease. Trump technically doesn’t own 40 Wall Street. He pays the wealthy German family that owns the property for the right to rent the building to tenants. In 2015, both Trump’s report to tax authorities and a key loan disclosure document asserted that Trump’s company paid $1.65 million for these rights that year. But a line-by-line income and expense statement, which Trepp gathered from what the company reported to the loan servicer, reported the company paid about $1.24 million that year.

“I don’t know why that would be off,” said Jason Hoffman, who is chair of the real estate committee for a professional association of certified public accountants in New York state. Like other experts, he said there are legitimate reasons why tax and loan filings might not line up perfectly. But Hoffman said the firm where he works makes sure the numbers match when it prepares both tax and loan documents for a client — or that it can explain why if they don’t.

Financial information for the Trump International Hotel and Tower raises similar questions. Trump owns only a small portion of the building, which is located on Columbus Circle: two commercial spaces, which he rents out to a restaurant and a parking garage. Trump’s company told New York City tax officials it made about $822,000 renting space to commercial tenants there in 2017, records show. The company told loan officials it took in $1.67 million that year — more than twice as much. In eight years of data ProPublica examined for the Columbus Circle property, Trump’s company reported gross income to tax authorities that was typically only about 81% of what it reported to the lender.

Trump appeared to omit from tax documents income his company received from leasing space on the roof for television antennas, a ProPublica review found. The line on tax appeal forms for income from such communications equipment is blank on nine years of tax filings, even as loan documents listed the antennas as major sources of income.

Trump has an easement to lease the roof space; he doesn’t own it. But three tax experts, including Melanie Brock, an appraiser and paralegal who has worked on hundreds of New York City tax cases, told ProPublica that the income should still be reported on the tax appeals forms.

It’s hard to guess what might explain every inconsistency, said David Wilkes, a New York City tax lawyer who is chair of the National Association of Property Tax Attorneys. But, he added, “My gut reaction is it seems like there’s something amiss there.”

Tax records for Trump personally and for his business continue to be subjects of contention in multiple investigations. The Justice Department has intervened in the investigation by the Manhattan district attorney, whose office has sought Trump’s personal tax returns. Congressional lawmakers investigating his business dealings have sought documents from his longtime accountant, Donald Bender, a partner at Mazars. Trump is fighting the subpoenas in court. (Bender did not respond to requests for comment.)

Rep. Elijah Cummings, D-Md., chairman of the House Oversight Committee, has said the committee is seeking to determine if Cohen’s testimony about Trump inflating and deflating his assets was accurate. Cummings asked for Mazars’ records related to Trump entities, as well as communications between Bender and Trump or Trump employees since 2009.

Such communications, the subpoena stated, should include any related to potential concerns that information Trump or his representatives provided his accountants was “incomplete, inaccurate, or otherwise unsatisfactory.”

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