#this bad boy can fit so much references and hidden messages
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The happy ending
#You guys have no idea how difficult this drawing was#this bad boy can fit so much references and hidden messages#harry potter#harry potter fanart#marauders#marauders fanart#jegulus#wolfstar
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The Singer (Marcus Pike x f!reader)
Chapter Three
Warnings: Mention of food/alcohol, language, pure fluffy fluffiness (I'm such a softie I'm sorry 😭)
W/C: 4.2k
A/N: Notes at the bottom! And I'm running out of gifs to use of scruffy faced Marcus. I'm gonna have to shave him soon 👀 I hope you enjoy our soft boi in this chapter! 🥰
Just as a reference if you need help understanding the different formats:
«Phone conversation on their end»
Thoughts
Text messages
Song mentioned:
Chapter Two | Chapter Four
The Singer Masterlist
Gif by me! Yes it's Teresa but it still fits & I only care that it's his hand lol
«Oh my god, I'm melting!» Celina yells in her phone enthusiastically. You giggle as you wait for her eagerness to calm down.
You had barely taken your shoes and jacket off after getting inside your apartment when you immediately dialed up Celina's number to tell her about the night. You feel like you're having an out of body experience. Sure, your heart is still guarded and unfortunately, you'll most likely have your doubts throughout the relationship, but you truly feel like this could go somewhere. You want to give yourself that chance and allow Marcus to help heal your heart, maybe doing the same for him in return.
"So he's picking me up on Saturday and I'm freaking out a little," you say and chew on the skin around your nail beds.
«Why? Don't be! Just treat it like how you did tonight!» She encourages.
"But it's a legitimate date this time, I have to do my hair and makeup perfectly and find the perfect outfit and-"
«Girl, have you seen your closet? You have nothing but perfect outfits!» She teases and you chuckle, lowering your fingers from your mouth.
«You don't need to try to be perfect hun, just be yourself! Be the girl he has already seen in front of him.» You smile at her heartfelt words. «I bet he's already in love with you!»
"Okay, you're not helping!" You laugh, placing your hand on your forehead. "I'll talk to you later, I'm going to try and get some sleep. I'll probably be calling you on Saturday so I can freak out some more."
You say your goodbyes and hang up, sinking yourself into your couch and smiling widely. Your head is buzzing from a sugar rush, but you can't tell if it's because of the pancakes or because of Marcus. You walk to the kitchen to make some sleepytime tea, hoping it'll relax your nerves enough for you to get some shut eye.
* * * *
You take a shower and climb into your comfy pajamas and the tea works its magic as you relax on your plush bed, surrounding yourself with pillows and your soft blanket enveloping you in warmth. Your eyes get heavy and you feel yourself on the brink of sleep when you hear your phone vibrate on the nightstand. You try to ignore it, but it vibrates again and you figure it's Celina probably sending you a funny video. Your curiosity gets the better of you and you reach over to grab your phone, the brightness from the screen stinging your eyes from the time they had adjusted to the darkness. You blink a few times until you can see the screen clearly.
555-9057: Hi Dulce :)
555-9057: Made it home. I had a great time :)
You bite your lip and smile at the messages on your lock screen, heat flashing through your head seeing him call you the nickname you gave yourself in his phone. And just like that, you're wide awake again. You unlock your phone and before you can type a reply, he sends another message.
555-9057: It's Marcus btw
Marcus groans to himself as he sends that last message. What the hell was that? Of course she knows it's you. Dumbass. He watches the screen and holds his breath when he sees the text bubbles pop up and he waits nervously for your reply.
Dulce💋: I'm glad you specified! Right after you dropped me off another guy took me out for dulce de leche pancakes and I also penned myself as Dulce in his phone 🤭
He chuckles out loud in the quiet atmosphere of his apartment, the sound bouncing against the walls and reverberating around the living room. Damn, she's good.
555-9057: Okay okay you got me, don't have to be so mean :P
So he's a classic emoji kind of guy, you smile as you make a note and file it in the little 'Marcus Pike' folder in your brain. You hit his phone number and tap the plus symbol to make a new contact in your phone. For some reason, you find yourself struggling as you try to figure out what to put his contact name as.
Agent Cutie
Nope, delete.
Agent Pike
What are you, his secretary? Delete delete.
Marcus
Should I put an emoji? Which one? Can't be a heart. You are seriously overthinking this.
Marcus Pike
Yeah, okay. I guess.
Me: Why did it take so long to get home? Do you live far?
Marcus Pike: It was about 30 min from your place :) not too bad
Thirty minutes?! Great, now I feel bad.
Dulce💋: Wth if I had known I wouldn't have let you drop me off! 🙄
Me: Don't worry about it! I was more than happy to ;)
Shit shit shit I didn't mean the wink! Why are they right next to each other?! Do I say something? Oh god, way to go, you ruined it.
Dulce💋: Then I'll give you gas money!
Marcus takes a breath of relief when he sees that you sidestepped his accidental wink emoji. After he catches his breath, his phone chimes again.
Dulce💋: And I won't take no for an answer 😉
Okay, there's no way she sent that by accident. Is she flirting with me? Do I flirt back? Why are my hands so sweaty?
Dulce💋: It's time for bed, those pancakes made me sleepy 😴 good night Marcus ☺️ See you Saturday!
Marcus smiles to himself and he anticipates seeing you on Saturday. He sends you another text and walks to his restroom to take a quick shower before climbing in bed.
Marcus Pike: Can't wait :) good night!
There's no way you can sleep now, but you said good night for his sake; he had a long day at work, plus he took you out and then had a long drive home. You know he must be tired. Your heart races as you scroll through your short text conversation, rereading the messages and giggling softly.
Did he mean to wink? It was probably an accident, considering he types out emojis instead of using the newer, more convenient ones. You just couldn't help but send one back, though; hiding behind the screen helped you to flirt openly with him. You roll onto your side to face the TV on your dresser, turning on a true crime documentary and letting it eventually lull you to sleep.
* * * *
Saturday comes around quickly, much to your delight, but as you wander around your room looking at the many outfits you laid out on your bed, your dresser, even on your couch, the nerves set in fast. You pray to whoever’s listening that you don’t seize up when Marcus picks you up. Which is in fifteen minutes. You already have your hair and makeup done, all you need is to pick an outfit. Simple in theory. Just pick one! You chew your lip nervously out of habit before stopping as soon as you realize you probably just messed up the red lipstick you had applied earlier.
You rush to the bathroom mirror and sure enough, there's a bare spot on your bottom lip and the lipstick has transferred to your front teeth. You groan in frustration and grab a makeup wipe to carefully remove the ruined lipstick and you brush your teeth again until it's all gone. You reapply the same shade of red, pleasantly surprised with yourself that it came out better than the first time. You take a deep breath and try to calm down, telling yourself that the first outfit you land your eyes on will be the one you wear. You count down from three in your head and enter your bedroom.
Okay, maybe not that one. You decide to close your eyes and try again. When you open your eyes, they land on a different outfit. Not that one either. You sigh harshly through your nose. Why is this so hard? You walk over to your nearly empty closet for the umpteenth time and your eyes catch on to a dress hidden in the corner that you had surprisingly missed before. This one.
It's a spaghetti strapped, black, bodycon dress with a lace overlay, flowers printed on the fabric throughout. It hugs your body in all the right places, reaching down to your knees, and you take a look in the floor length mirror next to your dresser as you put on your black, open-toed heels, smiling brightly as you feel confidence shooting through your veins.
Adrenaline gets mixed in as soon as you hear a knock on your door. Five on the dot. You grab your black cardigan and purse off the couch and open the door, your breath taken away by the handsome man in front of you. He's carrying a box of chocolates and it fumbles in his hands, nearly falling once his wide eyes see you. He looks at you from head to toe, making your heart race as you feel heat rushing over your body in line with his gaze and you shift your weight from side to side anxiously.
"Wow," he says breathlessly, unable to say anything afterwards.
"Wow yourself," you smile, looking over his own outfit: a navy blue suit and a black, button up shirt underneath, paired with black dress shoes. He slicked his hair back and cleaned up his beard slightly. He really is a gorgeous man.
"Uh," he stutters and glances to the box in his unknowingly tight grasp. "These are for you," he smiles shyly as he hands you the chocolates.
"Thank you," you say, giggling at the indents his fingers made on the sides of the box and you turn around to leave them on your entryway table.
You turn back to face him and see his eyes look up quickly and you wonder if you just caught him staring at your bottom. Your suspicion is confirmed when his cheeks flush pink. You laugh softly and he holds his arm out to you.
"Ready?" He asks and you can hear the nervousness in his voice.
You nod and link your arm in his, letting him help you down the stairs. You're starting to love the way his arm hugs yours as you walk and the warmth of his body mixing with yours. Your footsteps even sync up together in a slow cadence. He walks you to his car, letting you hold your weight with his arm as you slowly lower in the seat, your movement restricted by your tight dress and high heels.
You thank him once you're seated, buckling your seatbelt, and he walks to his side, sitting down and starting the car. You notice the radio is on this time, playing at a low volume, and you think to yourself that he probably only forgot to turn it on last time.
The aura is tense in the car, both of your nervous energies dancing in the air together to the music. You try to think of something to say, resorting to looking through your mental file of basic conversation starters. The weather? No, too basic. Say something about the music. No-
"You look really beautiful," Marcus finally breaks the silence. Your head snaps up to look in his direction and you share a smile, thanking him and returning the compliment.
He takes his eyes off the road for a couple of seconds to look at you with a soft smile and turns his attention back to driving straight. He would keep his eyes on you if he could, but he'd rather not get into a car accident and ruin the night. So he just waits patiently until the next moment he can steal a glance. He takes a peek at you while you're stuck at a red light and he sees you picking at your cuticles nervously. He rubs his clammy palm on his pant leg, hoping to dry up any sweat present as much as possible. Before he can think twice about it, he reaches his hand over to grab yours.
Your heart jumps in your throat from the action and you look down in shock at his large hand covering yours completely. The blood rushes to your cheeks; his hand is rough from work, but soft and gentle enough that it's not uncomfortable. And warm. So warm. You stop picking your cuticles immediately, now memorizing the fine wrinkles in his hand and the ridges on his knuckles.
"Are you okay?" He asks, not moving his hand from your lap as he starts driving again.
"Yeah," your voice makes an embarrassing harmony, splitting in two different octaves from disuse. You swallow some saliva to lubricate your vocal cords and try speaking again.
"I'm just a little nervous," you admit.
His hand is still resting on top of yours; you're not sure if you should open your hand up to face your palms together and hold his hand as well. Alas, you take too long to make a decision and he pulls his hand away to grasp the steering wheel, bracing for a left turn.
"Please don't be nervous," he smiles with his pearly white teeth and it only makes you more nervous. How is he this handsome?
"It's just me," he adds as he pulls up to the restaurant, putting the car in park and removing the key from the ignition.
"'Just you'?" You quote him inquisitively. He nods and you shake your head with a small chuckle.
"What?" He chuckles with you.
"It's not 'just you' though, is it?" You reply softly.
You wonder if he's uncertain of himself and his ability to make women — i.e. you — weak in the knees. He seems oblivious to it and it makes him all the more charming to you. You see his eyebrows furrow and before he can ask what you mean, you turn to open the car door.
"Wait," he tells you, rushing out of his seat and over to you to help you out.
You wanted to manage it yourself, but you know you must look ridiculous with how bad you're struggling to get out of the car. He chuckles at the sight once he's on your side and he holds his arm out. You hold onto his forearm tightly and pull yourself upward as he lifts you as well until you're firmly planted on your feet.
"Maybe this dress wasn't a good idea after all," you giggle.
"I think it was," he flirts and you look away as you smile shyly.
You walk together up the steps to the front of the restaurant and Marcus apologizes for not warning you about the stairs. You tell him not to worry and though you can feel the ache in the arches and heels of your feet, you don't complain. He holds the door open for you and you walk in, your eyes instantly catching on the glimmering, crystal chandelier hanging in the waiting area. The lights are dimmed in an amber glow and there are pillars with intricate carvings and vines wrapped around the stone throughout the entirety of the establishment.
You gasp to yourself; this place must be expensive. How did you go from pancakes at grandma's house to a fancy, Italian restaurant like this? Your ears catch the sounds of a violin, but it's too close to just be playing from a speaker. Sure enough, you look further into the restaurant and see a man in a suit playing a violin. A live violinist?! Marcus joins your side again and notices the look of astonishment on your face.
"What's wrong?" He asks and you jerk your head to look at him, not even realizing he was standing next to you.
"Marcus, this looks like it's going to be really expensive."
You whisper in his ear so you don't offend any of the staff members and the height from your heels allows you to reach his head a little better now. The hot breath from your mouth tickles his ear and a bolt of arousal shoots down his spine. He laughs it off and leans his mouth to your ear in return.
"I like to make a fuss," he says, the deep tone of his voice giving you goosebumps. "Don't worry about it," he says in his normal tone as he stands up straight again.
The maître d' greets you two as you walk up to the host stand and Marcus gives the man his name for the reservation. The maître d' informs Marcus the table is not quite ready yet, adding that you're welcome to wait at the bar. Marcus looks at you to get your opinion; you say yes and Marcus lightly places his hand on the middle of your back, guiding you as you walk over to the bar top together. You take a seat in the soft barstool; it's easier to sit on since it's basically at standing height. Marcus removes his hand from your back to take a seat, his fingers gliding against the delicate lace of your dress across your spine and you shudder. Thankfully, it goes unnoticed.
The back of the bar is riddled with an assortment of different liquors, both American and Italian, and they're resting on lit up shelves. You look at the drink menu and your mouth opens in horror at the prices listed. This is definitely too much money. The bartender comes your way and Marcus orders a campari and grapefruit juice, immersing himself fully in the Italian culture. You say you'll stick with water and excuse it as you not feeling like drinking tonight. Marcus doesn't question it further.
The two of you comment on the decor of the restaurant, mainly the paintings hanging on the walls, and you mention that you love the lilies resting in the painted, ceramic vases and Marcus takes note of that fact. A waitress walks up to you and Marcus to let you know your table is ready and he finishes the last of his drink and stands, offering you his hand this time instead of his arm. You smile as you take it, your heart thumping in your chest as you let him guide you while you both follow the waitress.
The restaurant is bustling; heavy sounds of conversation and cutlery clinking on plates as you walk through what seems the entirety of the restaurant until the waitress leads you to a small, private patio. A round table is seated there, covered by a red tablecloth and adorned with a single, tall candlestick, burning a light glow. There's a cylindrical basket full of bread sticks and two water glasses, condensation running along the sides and onto the cloth. Marcus pulls your chair out for you, helping you to sit and scooting you in and sits down across from you. You hang your cardigan and purse on the back of your chair and take the menu the waitress is holding out to you.
You both thank her and she leaves, stating she'll be back soon to take your order. You marvel at the privacy Marcus planned for you two and you take a sip of your ice cold water, reveling in the relief washing through your dry throat. You flip open your menu; the options are minimal and are all expensive. You immediately scan for the cheapest dish: a $30 plate of chicken cacciatore. You feel guilty; you never want Marcus to break his bank trying to take you on a date. You glance at him and wonder why he would do all of this just for you. Did he really think you were that special?
You find yourself missing that little pancake diner and the time you shared there. There, you only felt the budding emotions consistent with a high school crush, but in this moment now, it's real life and mature adult feelings and you feel it much stronger in this environment. Marcus senses your mood change and leans forward to ask if you're okay, but he's interrupted by the waitress. You order the 'cheap' chicken cacciatore and he orders the tajarin al tartufo. Whatever that is.
"Why did you order the cheapest dish?" Marcus asks once the waitress leaves.
"Because I wanted to," you give him a sly smile to convince him otherwise, but he sees right through you, giving you a look of disbelief. You sigh.
"Because Marcus, it's too much money," you say sadly. "I mean, how much was it to get this private patio set up?"
"That's not important to me," he shakes his head. "This is our first proper date and I wanted to make it special."
Damn it. Why is he so thoughtful? And so damn cute?
"It's not that I don't appreciate it, I'm blown away by this, but I'm just... I'm not used to it," you pull your lips into your mouth slightly, mindful of your lipstick.
"Is that why you didn't order a drink?" He asks. You give him a lopsided frown and shrug your shoulders, your expression answering him instead of your words. He sighs and tilts his head to the side.
"I don't want you to worry about how much everything costs when you're with me; let me spoil you. You deserve it."
Let me spoil you. You deserve it. His words float around in your head, your eyes filling with fondness at the thought. You didn't think you deserved to be spoiled; your ex made sure of that much. It's exhilarating to say the least; this man you barely know ready to do anything for you at any time. But you like it, and you think in time, you could learn to love it. Learn to love him. You blink wildly and you inconspicuously shake your head at that last thought.
It was definitely way too soon to be thinking like that and it scared you that it entered your mind at all. It must be the ambiance of the restaurant. You think about how you should protect yourself in case this takes a wrong turn and you debate on placing that in the priority spot in your mind. Marcus can see you fighting your own thoughts and he tries to lighten the mood.
"I also might be trying to impress you for real now," he smiles.
You chuckle and shake your head. Marcus thinks to himself how beautiful you look under the moonlight that's shining through the glass awning above your heads, face lit up by the glowing candle. He can't stop his mouth from saying what he wants to say, not in this romantic atmosphere.
"I think you're a wonderful, beautiful woman and... I really like you," he adds, reaching across the table for your hand and you let him hold it, tangling your fingers with his.
You're positive he can feel your pulse through your fingers or hear your heart pounding, the blood whooshing in your ears muffling any other sounds from coming in. As much as you want to protect yourself, the look in his eyes only draws you in and you can't hide the truth from him or yourself, your confession spoken out loud for the first time for you both.
"I like you, too, Marcus." He smiles happily at you.
There must be something in the water here.
"Do you think it would be okay to keep this up?" He asks, meaning the dates, and you can't stop your head from nodding yes and you give him a sweet smile.
Marcus lets go of your hand, letting his rest in front of him and you take a deep breath, trying to shake your nerves from the exchange that just took place between you. You grab a bread stick and attempt to take a small bite; you and Marcus laugh together as your small bite accidentally turns into a big one, the stick breaking in the wrong place and leaving a large chunk of bread hanging from your mouth. Of course, leave it to something awkward happening to you to break the tension. But anything to see his face come together in joyous laughter.
* * * *
"Thank you again Marcus, that was actually very delicious," you say while Marcus begins the drive back to your apartment. "I see why it was so expensive." He hums in agreement; his smile hasn't left his face since the restaurant.
You listen closely to the new song that comes on the radio, trying to make out the tune until it gets louder and you realize it's "At Last" by Etta James.
"I love this song," you say under your breath. Marcus hears you and turns up the volume slightly, earning a bright smile from you. You look back out the window and sing the lyrics softly.
At last, my love has come along,
My lonely days are over
And life is like a song.
Marcus's heart races as he listens to the lyrics being sung by you and they hit a little too close to his heart. You don't realize at first the meaning behind them, only enjoying singing along.
At last, the skies above are blue
My heart was wrapped up in clover,
The night I looked at you.
You now realize the words are identical to how you feel. You wonder if you're falling too fast for Marcus. This was only your second date and there is still so much to learn about each other. You have a whole past to open up about, which will be a defining moment for your relationship. But as you look over at Marcus and you feel the tender organ in your chest beating fast, you think to yourself that it can't get much better than this. What's the harm in trying?
Chapter Two | Chapter Four
The Singer Masterlist
A/N: Okay just wanted to explain what Marcus ordered if you're interested! *DESCRIPTION OF FOOD/ALCOHOL COMING UP* I'm not an expert so correct me if I'm wrong! According to Google:
Campari is an Italian bitters made of fruit & herbs & you usually mix it with juice or club soda (hardcore Italians drink it straight up) & it's a pre-meal drink
Tajarin al tartufo is an egg pasta, made with more egg whites than traditional egg pastas, & topped with white truffle. Idk it sounded fancy & expensive 😂
Also, here's their outfit inspos! Just a couple of things I described differently like his shirt being black & her dress having lace instead of mesh.
Ofc Marcus in this suit 🥵 I copied the description lol
TAG LIST:
@hnt-escape @winter-fox-queen @giselatropicana
#marcus pike x f!reader#marcus pike x you#marcus pike x reader#marcus pike#marcus pike fanfiction#the mentalist#the mentalist fanfiction
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【未定事件簿】 Tears of Themis: 【腾霄】 Xia Yan | Skyflying Date Translation
Translation Masterlist | Xia Yan Masterlist
Video
Translation under cut~
Part 1
Home
After finishing up with work, I returned home, collapsing onto my bed. Suddenly, my phone rang.
MC: Hello, Xia Yan?
Xia Yan: Got home yet?
MC: Just did, what’s up?
Xia Yan: Recently, there’s been an experiential culture variety show called “A Unique Challenge” – have you heard of it?
MC: I have – it’s been pretty popular recently, though I haven’t seen it yet.
MC: I heard that they’ll pick normal and famous people each week to experience cultures of different regions or types.
MC: Cheng Cheng’s idol participated once, experiencing an ancient ceremonial culture and playing some little games.
MC: Although, since when were you into variety shows?
Xia Yan: My friend was one of the picked participants, but he’s got something going on for now and doesn’t want to go there anymore, so he gave it to me…
Xia Yan: That week just happens to be a pairs’ challenge – would you be interested?
MC: What’s the theme?
Xia Yan: It’s trendy culture, and I heard that they prepared a lot of things for this topic. Want to go try?
MC: Sure, let’s go together.
In the few days after, as long as I thought about participating in a show with Xia Yan, I couldn’t help feeling somewhat nervous.
Finally, it was the day of filming.
--
Clothing Store
MC: Xia Yan, are you not done yet?
Xia Yan: Almost, almost…
MC: You’ve already been in there for ten minutes. Are the clothes hard to put on?
Xia Yan: Ugh, this headband is a little hard to handle.
MC: Then I’ll help you put it on.
Speaking thus, I got up and walked towards the fitting room.
Xia Yan: Ah, no need, no need!
Xia Yan pulled the fitting room’s curtain tightly.
Xia Yan: Uh… I feel like… this outfit doesn’t really suit me, so I should probably change!
Rustling sounds came from inside the fitting room.
MC: Let me see! If you don’t come out, I’m going to lift the curtain!
I faked an act to scare Xia Yan. Sure enough, hearing me say this, the sounds of movement from the fitting room stopped, and the curtain was slowly pulled open.
Xia Yan: Ugh…
MC: …
Back during school, Xia Yan always wore school uniforms, and the clothes he wore now were mostly casualwear. Speaking of which, this was my first time seeing him wear hip-hop style clothing. The bright symbols didn’t feel over-the-top; instead, it added a free, confident youthful vibe for him.
Xia Yan: This outfit… is it… too gaudy?
MC: …
Xia Yan: You’re not even talking… looks like it really does look bad. I should go change it.
MC: Don’t change it! It looks great, of course it looks great!
Seeing Xia Yan walk towards the fitting room, I grabbed onto him.
Xia Yan: For real?
MC: Of course – you look super cool!
Xia Yan: …
Xia Yan: Wait, why haven’t you changed yet?
Xia Yan: Do you think the clothes I picked for you look bad?
MC: How could that be? I’ll go change now, wait for me!
Xia Yan: Go ahead – after changing, we’ll officially start the challenge.
In fact, Xia Yan and I were already in the middle of filming. We were changing clothes at this store due to the show’s requirements.
--
[Flashback]
Filming Studio
Host: The theme this time is trendy culture. The topics that can be drawn are different, and the contents of the challenge are also different.
Host: Next, could the guests please come onstage to draw topics?
I followed everyone towards the stage and drew an envelope out of the box. When I flipped it, I saw a word written in large font on the envelope – skateboard.
MC: (It actually ended up being skateboarding…)
Host: Alright, could everyone now open your envelopes and read the details of the topics?
Hearing the host’s words, I rushed to open the envelope and take out the topic inside.
MC: Search for the mysterious skateboard?
MC: Looks like we have to find various components of the skateboard, then assemble them.
Xia Yan: Let me see…
Xia Yan took the mission card from the envelope, looking it over in detail. According to the instructions on the mission card, the components of the skateboard were scattered in different places on the commerce street, guarded by NPCs. Our mission was to find the NPCs, complete various tests, collect the skateboard components, and assemble them.
Host: The mission locations are at the pedestrian commerce area outside. Please finish them as soon as possible.
Host: The program team will keep track of each team’s time, and rank everyone based on completion time.
Host: If you have not completed it beyond three hours, it’s counted as a failure.
After finishing her explanation of the rules, the host gave a slight smile to everyone.
Host: Alright, after you have prepared, you can set out.
Host: Before the game starts, you can all choose a trendy culture-themed outfit at the clothes store.
[Flashback end]
--
After regaining my train of thought, I rushed to put on the clothes and pull aside the curtain, then walked in front of Xia Yan. However, as I turned in several slow circles, Xia Yan kept his eyes on his phone the whole time.
MC: Xia Yan, why do you keep staring at your phone!
MC: You’re not even giving me your opinion… does it look good or not!
Xia Yan: …
Xia Yan: It looks great, of course! You look great no matter what you wear.
MC: Really? Why do I feel like you’re… being a little perfunctory?
Xia Yan: It’s not perfunctory, they’re all my sincere thoughts!
Xia Yan rushed to shove his phone back into his pocket.
Xia Yan: I just received a message and didn’t notice, sorry.
MC: Is it an important message?
Xia Yan: It’s nothing urgent.
Xia Yan stood up, walked around me in a circle, carefully looking over the clothes I was wearing.
Xia Yan: Inspection complete. It really suits you, so let’s go with it!
Xia Yan: Looks like my eye is getting better and better.
MC: Pfft…
MC: Right, Xia Yan, I haven’t asked you yet – when did you learn to skateboard?
MC: I definitely remember that you hadn’t learned to skateboard before.
--
[Flashback]
Near the School Grounds
During middle school, Xia Yan wanted to learn to skateboard, but the school prohibited students from doing dangerous activities like this.
School Dean: Young man in front, get over here!
Xia Yan: Crap!
MC: I’ll cover for you, run!
Xia Yan planted a foot on the skateboard, kicked off the ground quickly, and disappeared past a corner within seconds.
School Dean: You-! Which class did that boy come from?
MC: I don’t know. I also just passed by, and I’d wanted to persuade him to stay away from these dangerous activities.
Xia Yan: Oww!
The sound of something falling sounded from far away, followed by Xia Yan’s pained shout.
MC: Xia Yan!
Since he left in a rush, Xia Yan, who was not yet familiar with the skateboard, fell heavily down from the stairs.
[Flashback end]
MC: After falling that time, didn’t you not ride the skateboard ever again?
MC: When did you secretly learn it again?
Xia Yan: Uh… that time was just an accident because I ran off too quickly. Afterwards, I was very careful.
MC: So you really were doing it secretly…
Xia Yan: Just a few times. I didn’t say it because I was afraid you’d worry.
MC: Really?
Xia Yan: It really was just a few times. Think about it, weren’t we together all day?
Smiling, Xia Yan changed the topic.
Xia Yan: I actually truly learned the skateboard after going to the Ministry of National Security.
Xia Yan: The teacher who took me in back then really liked skateboarding, and I learned from him.
Xia Yan: There was very little time to relax in the Ministry, but whenever there was time, I would skateboard with my teacher.
Xia Yan: When I was little, I was only concerned about looking cool and rushed too much. After learning the basics from my teacher, I wasn’t scared of getting hurt anymore.
MC: Alright alright, I won’t look into the things you’ve hidden from me.
MC: You can’t be like this in the future. You have to tell me if anything comes up!
Xia Yan: …
MC: Could it be that you’re hiding other things from me?
Part 2
MC: Could it be that you’re hiding other things from me?
Xia Yan: I’m not.
Xia Yan: Alright, it’s about time, so let’s hurry out.
Hearing Xia Yan say this, I took out the mission card given by the program team from my pocket.
MC: We have a total of four components to find – the board, bracket, bearings, and wheels respectively.
MC: Although, where should we start?
Xia Yan: There’s a clue on here, right?
Xia Yan pointed to a sentence on the mission card.
Xia Yan: “One cunning and one foolish” – this should be the clue.
MC: Does this mean we have to find two NPCs, one smart and one dumb?
Xia Yan: Shouldn’t be, I feel like this sentence seems more like a riddle.
If it’s a riddle…
>The answer is a word
>The answer is a term
MC: The answer should be a term, and “cunning” and “foolish” represent one word each.
Xia Yan: But what word does “cunning” refer to?
MC: Cunning… crafty… foolish… inflexible…
MC: I got it!
MC: Cunning refers to “skate”, and foolish refers to “inflexible”, which is “board”.
MC: When joined together, they form the term “skateboard”.
Note: 狡诈 = Cunning; 狡猾 = Crafty; these are synonyms (or near synonyms) that have the same first character; the second character of “crafty” sounds the same as and looks similar to 滑, which makes the first character of “skateboard” in Chinese.
呆 = Foolish; 呆板 = Inflexible; the term for inflexible includes the term for foolish, and the other part, 板, is the second character of “skateboard” in Chinese.
Also note that skateboard in Chinese is made of two characters, rather than one (hence why the answer is a term, not a word)
I do think that this riddle is a bit of a stretch though haha
Xia Yan: If the answer is “skateboard” … then let’s go ask at the skateboard shop.
--
Skateboard Shop
As soon as we entered the skateboard shop, Xia Yan and I saw another team of guests. They were surrounding the staff member, wanting to ask for some information.
Guest A: You really aren’t an NPC from the program team? You really don’t know what this sentence means?
Guest B: We’ve already asked all around. This is the only skateboard shop on the commerce street, so it has to be this place.
Shop Staff: My apologies, sirs, I really do not know what that sentence means. Please do not impede my work anymore.
Guest A: Alright, sorry about that.
The two gave up struggling. When they saw Xia Yan and I come in, they sighed helplessly.
Guest A: Don’t waste your energy. That person isn’t an NPC; we’ve already asked.
After speaking to us, the two left the skateboard shop dispiritedly.
MC: What do we do now? We guessed wrong…
Xia Yan: Not necessarily.
Xia Yan: She only said that she didn’t know what the sentence meant, but she never denied that she was an NPC of the program team.
Smiling, Xia Yan walked up to the staff member, took out the mission card, and pointed to the riddle on it.
Xia Yan: We already know what this sentence means. This is a riddle, and its answer is “skateboard”.
Xia Yan: This is the only skateboard shop on the street, so you should be an NPC of the program team.
Hearing Xia Yan speak, the staff member smiled slightly.
Shop Staff: Congrats on solving the riddle and successfully passing the first stage.
Shop Staff: This is the skateboard’s bracket; please hold onto it.
MC: Awesome, Xia Yan, we got it right.
Xia Yan: Then do you have the clue for the second stage here?
Shop Staff: If you want the second clue, the two of you need to do a little challenge.
Xia Yan: Sure, what challenge? Bring it on.
Seeing Xia Yan’s determined expression, the shop staff took out a little plate, grinning.
Shop Staff: It’s nothing difficult; the two of you just need to eat two spicy peppers raw to get the next clue.
Xia Yan: W-what?
Xia Yan’s smile stiffened instantly. Seeing this, the cameraman followed up quietly, pointing the camera at Xia Yan.
Xia Yan: Ah, this… uh…
The peppers were bright red, and a single glance would tell you that they were very spicy.
MC: (Even someone who can handle spice probably wouldn’t be able to endure this test.)
Xia Yan closed his eyes, held his breath, took a pepper, then stuffed it in his mouth. After chewing quickly twice, he rushed to swallow the pepper down.
A mere few seconds after, Xia Yan’s eyes widened, and he opened his mouth, inhaling deeply.
MC: Xia Yan, are you okay?
Xia Yan: Water… water! Quick, give me water!
Luckily, the program team had prepared in advance. I rushed to hand a glass of water to Xia Yan. He swallowed the water noisily, and even his eyes had reddened from the spice, tears at the corners of his eyes.
MC: (I can’t let Xia Yan suffer alone, so I’ll do it too!)
I grabbed the second pepper and stuffed it in my mouth. The agonizing taste spread in my mouth, and I speedily swallowed the pepper.
Xia Yan: Ah! Haa…. Don’t eat it! Haa…
Right after swallowing the pepper, a mere few seconds later, a burning hot spiciness rushed at me, filling my mouth with pain.
MC: So spicy! Water! Water!
MC: This is way too spicy!
Xia Yan: Haa… here, water… haa…
Unable to pay attention to how I appeared in front of the camera, I took the water and drank it down noisily.
--
After ten entire minutes, Xia Yan’s and my tongues finally recovered.
MC: So much hassle just to get this clue.
Xia Yan: Miss, you can give us the second clue now, right?
Shop Staff: Indeed I can.
The staff member took out a little paper slip and handed it to Xia Yan.
Xia Yan: “Seems to be but is not; search for the origin.”
MC: Looks like it’s a riddle again. I wonder what it means?
MC: Origin… does that mean the originating point? Could it have to do with the materials that make the skateboard?
After not hearing an answer from Xia Yan, I looked up, wondering. Xia Yan wasn’t looking at the paper slip; instead, he was staring at the product shelves, thinking about something.
MC: Xia Yan, Xia Yan?
Xia Yan: Ah, sorry, I just got distracted…
MC: Is there something you want to buy?
Xia Yan: No, I just felt like there was someone over there just now.
MC: Probably the cameraman from the program team; don’t they have to take some other shots?
Xia Yan: I feel like there’s someone who’s been watching us the whole time.
Xia Yan: Although, since we’re filming a variety show, people watching out of curiosity is also normal.
Xia Yan: Let’s go, we’ll think about this new riddle on the way.
MC: Sure.
Part 3
Commerce Street
After walking aimlessly on the road for a while, I felt faintly unsettled from seeing Xia Yan’s expression. He didn’t seem like he was thinking seriously about the answer to the riddle – instead, he kept scanning the people on the road.
MC: Xia Yan, I feel like you’ve been a bit absentminded ever since the beginning.
MC: What did you see? What’s the matter?
Xia Yan: It’s nothing…
MC: …
Xia Yan must be hiding something from me. But we had microphones on us right now and were surrounded by the program team staff, so I couldn’t just ask him.
Seeing my concern, Xia Yan gently touched the microphone, then winked.
Xia Yan: Let’s rest up ahead first.
MC: (Is he hinting that he’ll use other methods to tell me?)
We found a drinks shop by the road and scanned the menu code on our phones. Just as I was browsing the menu, contact notifications popped up.
--
[Phone Interface]
[Xia Yan]: It seems like I offended someone when investigating a case before. I received a text when trying clothes on earlier.
[Xia Yan]: The text told me to be careful, and he’d let me know how one “ends up when sticking their nose where it doesn’t belong”.
[Xia Yan]: Though I don’t know if they’re just trying to scare me or if they’re serious, it’s still better to be careful.
[MC]: Did they bring up the show filming today?
[Xia Yan]: No, though I’m a little worried.
[Xia Yan]: There are lots of people here, and I can’t tell if anyone with bad intentions might have mixed in.
[MC]: Okay, I got it.
[MC]: I’ll help you keep an eye out on the surroundings. You be careful too.
--
MC: …
So Xia Yan’s unusual expression just now was because of this. I relaxed the expression on my face, ordering a drink as if nothing were up.
MC: Let’s hurry and think about that riddle.
MC: Search for the origin… what does that refer to?
MC: Is there some special story associated with the origin of the skateboard?
Xia Yan: Hm… I’m not too clear on this either. I’ve only heard that skateboarding is an extension of surfing.
Xia Yan: Apparently, people living on the seaside were the ones to invent the first skateboard, to not be limited by geography or climate, and to enjoy the feeling of surfing.
MC: Could it have to do with surfing?
I turned on my phone and sure enough, I was able to find a surfing equipment shop.
Xia Yan: Who would’ve thought that there really would be a surfing equipment shop here…
Xia Yan: Then let’s go see.
--
Surfing Equipment Shop
Xia Yan: Surfing is the origin of skateboarding, and the surfboard and skateboard also have similar aspects.
Xia Yan: So the answer to “Seems to be but is not; search for the origin” is this place, right?
Shop Owner: I didn’t think that you two would be able to get here this quickly.
Shop Owner: You’re the first team that drew skateboarding to get here.
Shop Owner: You can get the board and sandpaper here.
The shop owner thus handed the items to us.
Shop Owner: If you’d like, you can assemble the components you’ve gotten first.
Xia Yan: It’s inconvenient carrying the sandpaper around, so let’s just assemble it here.
MC: Sure.
Xia Yan: Then can you also provide us things like screws and washers?
Shop Owner: Hahaha, of course. You two won’t need to waste energy searching for those.
After getting the materials, Xia Yan tugged me down to sit and started to assemble the skateboard.
MC: You really are familiar with this.
Xia Yan: Yeah, because I’ve always disassembled and reassembled my skateboard myself.
Xia Yan: To me, the skateboard is just like a partner.
Xia Yan stared seriously at the skateboard, twisting the wrench in his hand.
Xia Yan: Did you know – each skateboard gives everyone a different feeling, and each one is special.
Xia Yan: The tightness of the brackets, the size and hardness of the wheels, the material of the board – all of these will give a different feeling for each person.
I gazed quietly at Xia Yan. His eyes were shining, flashing with the light of excitement. Hearing him speak, it felt as if the skateboard in my hands had a life.
MC: Xia Yan, why do you like skateboarding this much?
MC: Is it because of the stimulation from fast movement?
He stopped the movements of his hands and thought for a moment. Then slowly opened his mouth.
Xia Yan: It isn’t that, or you could say that it isn’t just that.
Xia Yan: As an extreme sport, skateboarding can be mentally stimulating, but compared to my line of work, it’s not really worth mentioning.
Xia Yan: I still like skateboarding because it lets me continue to challenge myself and break past my limits.
Xia Yan: After completing a challenge, the joy of achievement is what has me most fascinated.
I had never ridden a skateboard, and I hadn’t personally experienced the emotions Xia Yan had towards skateboarding. But seeing him look like he liked it this much, my emotions felt somewhat complicated…
MC: Xia Yan, when we were little, mom and dad didn’t let you skateboard, and I didn’t support you for it…
MC: Do you blame us?
Hearing me speak, Xia Yan was somewhat surprised.
Xia Yan: Blame you? What for?
MC: Because we didn’t understand you…
Xia Yan: I don’t – I wouldn’t blame uncle and auntie, and I definitely wouldn’t blame you.
Xia Yan: Uncle and auntie wanted me to grow healthily, and you didn’t want a repeat of the past – it was all for my own good.
Xia Yan: Everyone has their own selfishness, especially towards those who are the most important to them.
Xia Yan’s voice got lower and lower, and I seemed to hear a faint whisper.
Xia Yan: I’m like that too…
Before I could ask him about it, Xia Yan’s hands stopped moving as he smiled.
Xia Yan: Alright, it’s done. Now only the wheels and bearings are left.
Xia Yan: Boss, do you have the next riddle clue?
Seeing us about to leave, the boss took out a sheet of paper and handed it to us.
Xia Yan: Let me see… A car carries seven people, and twenty-eight people return home…
Sure enough, yet another riddle.
Xia Yan: Should be a word riddle… a car with seven people on it…
MC: Ah, I get it! The answer is “wheel”.
Xia Yan: Makes sense, so the twenty-eight people refer to the four wheels?
Note: The Chinese character for wheel is 轮, which is visually made of three different characters, 车 (car), 人 (person), and 七 (seven). If there are 7 people per wheel, and 28 people total, this means there are 4 wheels.
MC: Then “return home” should refer to where the tires are…
Xia Yan: “Return home”… or we can take it to mean “the place of the very beginning”?
MC: Does it refer to that studio where we started filming the show?
Xia Yan: Possibly, but it might also be the first place where we found the clue.
MC: That skateboard shop?
Xia Yan: Yeah, it said in the mission card that the locations to finish the missions are on this commerce street, but the studio is some distance away from here.
MC: So the location should be the first store we entered after arriving on the commerce street, or the place where we found the first clue.
MC: Although the program team wouldn’t know where we’d go first, so it’s more likely to be the skateboard shop.
Xia Yan: Yep, that’s right.
MC: Then let’s go check out the skateboard shop again.
--
Skateboard Shop
We changed direction and headed back to that skateboard shop. Seeing that we had returned, the store staff was a little curious.
Shop Staff: Why did you come back? Did you leave something behind?
Xia Yan: Yeah, we left “something” behind.
Xia Yan displayed the clue in his hand, pointing to the words on it.
Xia Yan: A car carries seven people, and twenty-eight people return home. The answer to this riddle is this store, right?
Shop Staff: Correct, the answer is indeed this place.
Seeing that Xia Yan and I had already found the answer, the shop staff no longer concealed anything, taking out four wheels from the shelves.
Shop Staff: Here, take it.
MC: Awesome, Xia Yan, now all that’s left is…
MC: Ah…
Suddenly, a massive force pulled me backwards.
Xia Yan: Careful!
MC: Xia Yan?
Xia Yan’s brows drew closely together, switching positions with me in what was nearly an instant, blocking me from the front. Only then did I realize that someone was running straight towards us. He was wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses, and a single glance could tell you that he came with ill intent.
Xia Yan: Who are you?
If Xia Yan hadn’t pulled me back just now, that guy would have made it in front of me by now. When I remembered the message Xia Yan sent me earlier, my heart jumped up to my throat.
MC: (Is it someone who came to get revenge on Xia Yan?)
MC: (Xia Yan thought someone was watching us before. Could it be him? Was he following us the whole time?)
???: Ow!
Before I could react, Xia Yan swept a leg out, knocking the guy down to the ground.
???: Heeey! W-wait! You can’t just hit me!
???: This is different from what was promised!
Xia Yan: ???
Seeing that Xia Yan had stopped, the man propped himself up into a sitting position, then speedily shifted backwards. After he had escaped beyond five metres, he cleared his throat again, rambling some “fierce words”.
???: If you… got the skill, then… have a showdown with me!
Xia Yan: …
MC: …
Hearing this, Xia Yan and I had completely frozen where we were. The man sitting on the ground had also gotten up, taking advantage of this to snatch the wheels in Xia Yan’s hands.
???: I… I’m taking the wheels. If… if you want to take them back, then find me at the park!
???: Remember, it’s the park behind the commerce street!
After speaking, he sprinted out of the shop door, holding the wheels.
Part 4
If you asked me what the most awkward experience of my entire life was, I bet it would be this moment. It was obvious that the guy who’d just come was an NPC arranged by the program team, yet Xia Yan and I took him to be a dangerous hoodlum and knocked him down.
Xia Yan: So it was someone arranged by the program team…
Xia Yan: And I was just making a big deal out of nothing.
Shop Staff: Sir, isn’t your desire to protect a little too strong?
Seeing that the shop staff, who didn’t know about the whole situation, trying to hold in her laughter, I felt so awkward that my toes could pretty much dig into the ground.
MC: …
Xia Yan: I’m really sorry…
Xia Yan turned around, apologizing to the program team staff. But the director said nothing, holding up a sign in his hand, which had writing on it:
Continue!
Xia Yan: Ahem ahem… then let’s hurry and find him.
MC: Okay, let’s use our ability to get the wheels back.
--
Park
After adjusting our mentalities, Xia Yan and I arrived at the skateboard park behind the commerce street. The man we’d run into at the shop just now was holding a skateboard, waiting for us in the middle of the square. Beside his foot were several skateboards of different styles and some protective gear.
Director: This is the special guest we invited for the show. He’s a professional skateboarder and has won quite a few awards.
Xia Yan: I’m really sorry about just now…
Skateboarder Young Man: No problem, no problem… I’ve fallen a lot while skateboarding, and I’ve long gotten used to it.
After a simple greeting, the man in front of us cleared his throat, reciting the show script given to him.
Skateboarder Young Man: You two have finally arrived.
Skateboarder Young Man: If you want to get the wheels back, then bring on your true skill!
Xia Yan: Then tell us, what do we need to do for you to return the wheels to us?
Skateboarder Young Man: See this racecourse? You two have to ride to the endpoint together.
Skateboarder Young Man: No worries if you go a little slowly, but if you fall off the skateboard midway, you’ll have to start over.
MC: They… want me to skateboard?
Xia Yan: Sure, no problem.
Seeing my shocked expression, Xia Yan circled his arm around my shoulders with a smile, patting me gently.
Xia Yan: No problem, we still have two hours, which is enough for me to teach you now.
I looked at the racecourse before us. It was around two hundred metres in distance, there were obstacles on the straight path, and there were around four or five turns. The worst was a row of barricade poles near the endpoint…
MC: This is…
Skateboarder Young Man: Barricade poles. You must use a Hippy Jump to jump over them.
MC: Hippy Jump?
Xia Yan: It’s a term for a skateboarding move, meaning that you jump up from the skateboard, then fall back onto the skateboard while riding.
MC: ???
MC: I don’t even know how to skateboard, yet they also need me to… jump?
Xia Yan: It’s fine, we can definitely do this. I’ll teach you how to skateboard first.
Xia Yan borrowed two skateboards from the program team and helped me put on various sorts of protective gear.
Xia Yan: Here, put your left foot on the skateboard first, and put your center of gravity on the left foot…
I carefully followed Xia Yan’s directions, planting my foot on the skateboard.
Xia Yan: Then put your right foot on, stand stably and get a feel of it.
MC: Okay.
Seeing that my feet were placed horizontally on the skateboard, Xia Yan gently let go.
Xia Yan: Great, keep the skateboard horizontal. Don’t push down with your heel.
This was my first time standing without support on the skateboard. Though I wasn’t moving, my legs still couldn’t help trembling. The skateboard wasn’t as stable as I’d imagined – the board was prone to movement, and with my wobbliness, it also rolled from left to right.
MC: Aaah!
I didn’t know why, but Xia Yan’s miserable fall during school replayed over and over in my head, making me more and more nervous. All the muscles in my body tightened, and I tried my best to maintain balance.
Xia Yan: Don’t be nervous, relax… relax…
Xia Yan: You don’t have to tighten up this much. I won’t let you fall.
Under Xia Yan’s consolation, I heaved a deep breath, then gradually straightened my body. Sure enough, when my legs stopped trembling, so did the board.
Xia Yan: Now, let’s try moving.
Xia Yan: Put your forward foot where the truck bolt is, slowly kick at the ground, and then follow up with the back foot.
Xia Yan: You have to fix the center of gravity on the left foot. Don’t be afraid.
Xia Yan opened his hands on my sides, as if he could grab onto me, no matter what pose I fell in. With him standing beside me, I felt filled with limitless courage. Following his instructions, I lightly kicked at the ground with my right foot. The skateboard rolled forward crookedly, and I gritted my teeth, quickly moving my back foot onto the board.
MC: Ah…
I spread my hands, trying to maintain balance.
Xia Yan: Straighten your front foot. That’s right, just like that, you got it!
The skateboard rolled forward, slow as a snail – but no matter what, I had successfully overcome my mental obstacles.
For the next hour, I repeatedly practiced skateboarding, as well as learned some simple turns under Xia Yan’s instruction. With half an hour left to go before the mission ended, I decided to end training and officially take on the challenge.
Skateboarder Young Man: Ready to go? Ready, start…
I heaved a deep breath, stepped onto the skateboard, and started to move.
Xia Yan: Awesome, here I go.
Seeing me stabilize myself, Xia Yan caught up from behind. He held onto my hand, spurring me forward at a faster speed.
Xia Yan: How does it feel?
Two skateboards, one in front and one behind, moved forward at breakneck speed. I held tightly onto his hand. A slight summer breeze blew at the hairs around my ears, bringing a sliver of warmth amid the coolness.
MC: Pretty decent.
Xia Yan: Push down lightly with your toes. We’re about to get through the first turn.
MC: Okay.
The turn was right before us, and the flowerbeds on the roadside looked like they were rushing at me.
MC: (Relax, I have to trust Xia Yan… and trust myself!)
As I maintained my balance, my toes pushed down on one side of the board. The board started to turn, but the arc of movement couldn’t keep up with the curvature of the path.
MC: (I have to get past!)
I couldn’t help squinting my eyes and holding my breath. As if the skateboard had heard my prayers, it slowly changed directions, and the shrubbery in front of me also gradually got further.
MC: Xia Yan, I did it!
Xia Yan: I said so already – you can definitely do this.
My heart beat wildly, but I knew that it wasn’t because of fear – instead, it was because of excitement. Right then, I understood why Xia Yan loved skateboarding so much, refusing to give up even if he fell and got hurt. Extreme sports were not only a source of excitement and stimulation, but there was also the sense of accomplishment after conquering yourself.
MC: (We’ve gotten past four turns. Next up, there’s…)
Xia Yan: Do you trust me?
MC: ???
Xia Yan: No, I should say, do you trust in yourself to jump over the barricade poles?
Xia Yan turned around and looked at me, his eyes full of anticipation and encouragement.
Do I trust in myself? As a newbie, it was really hard for me to say. But…
MC: Xia Yan, I trust you.
Seeing my certain expression, the corners of his mouth pulled up slightly.
Xia Yan: When you hear me say “Jump” in a moment, jump upwards.
Xia Yan: Don’t jump forward or backwards, just straight upwards. Then, raise your knees high.
Xia Yan: And leave the rest to me.
As we spoke, the barricade poles got closer and closer to me.
Was jumping up from the skateboard really something I could do? Though they were only 30 centimeters high, I might fall from jumping if I’m not careful…
A thin layer of sweat formed on my hand, and I started to feel a chill at my fingertips.
Xia Yan: Right now, jump!
Xia Yan and I let go of our tightly held hands simultaneously, and I followed Xia Yan’s instructions, lifting my knees as I jumped.
The feeling of flying through the air left me without the feeling of safety, and my heart beat furiously. I shut my eyes tightly in anxiety.
Suddenly, a strong arm clasped around my waist, and an external force pulled me upwards. With a clunk, my feet fell back onto the skateboard.
MC: Ah—
Xia Yan: Don’t be afraid.
Xia Yan: You’ve already done very well. Just leave the rest to me.
Xia Yan’s gentle voice sounded by my ear. He maneuvered my skateboard with one foot, with one hand supporting my backwards-leaning waist.
MC: …
Our poses right now looked very much like embracing dancers.
I lifted my head. Xia Yan’s face was as close as could be, such that I could even feel his breath. The hairs in front of his forehead entangled, and I could smell the fragrance of his shampoo, fresh and clean.
Xia Yan: Look, we did it!
With the sound of the timer’s ring, Xia Yan and I rushed past the yellow finish line.
Part 5
Skateboarder Young Man: Wow, you two really are impressive.
MC: Ahem ahem…
Xia Yan: …
Hearing the man’s teasing, Xia Yan retracted the arm he’d encircled around me.
Xia Yan: Alright, you can return the wheels to us now.
Skateboarder Young Man: I didn’t say that there’s only one part to this challenge.
The man shrugged, looking at us like he was waiting to watch something interesting.
MC: What? But now… there’s only half an hour until the mission ends.
Set up by the program team again as we were, I couldn’t help feeling somewhat frustrated. Seeing my expression, the skateboarder man shrugged.
Skateboarder Young Man: Plus, two teams have already finished the mission.
Skateboarder Young Man: If you two don’t hurry, you won’t be able to rank.
Skateboarder Young Man: Although, it can’t be helped – sucks that you guys drew skateboarding. That’s the hardest topic, after all.
Xia Yan pinched my hand on the side, giving me a meaningful look.
Xia Yan: Then how many tasks are there after this?
Skateboarder Young Man: There are still ten moves after this. Both of you have to try five types of obstacles.
Skateboarder Young Man: But between the two of you, you only need to successfully do six of them for me to give the tires to you. It shouldn’t be a big deal with this guy’s skills.
Skateboarder Young Man: Though you won’t be able to rank, finishing the mission in time can be considered passing with minimum grades.
That was true – getting the wheels and finishing the mission within limited time wasn’t difficult.
Xia Yan: Minimum grades? Ever since I was little, I have never handed in an answer sheet that only met minimum grade.
Xia Yan: If you’re a prizewinning skateboarder, would you dare to compete with me?
Skateboarder Young Man: Compete? Why wouldn’t I dare? What do you want to compete over?
Xia Yan: With these ten movements, I can finish them faster, jump higher, and do them with better posture than you.
Skateboarder Young Man: Dude, maybe your skateboarding is impressive compared to normal people, but I’m a professional skateboarder.
Xia Yan: If you don’t try, how can you be sure that I’ll lose to you?
With an expression that could pass for a smile or a level expression, Xia Yan looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
Xia Yan: If I win, you’ll give the wheels straight to us without needing her to try.
Xia Yan: If I lose, our challenge will change from ten to twenty, and we’ll have to successfully do them all to get the tires.
Xia Yan: How about it?
The man in front of us also looked eager, but as a program guest, he couldn’t change the rules without authorization. Right then, the director following us on the side spoke.
Director: Sure, then let’s change the rules so you two can compete.
Director: This way, the show will be more interesting!
--
Thus, Xia Yan and the skateboarder started the competition. The racecourse this time was a harder one – not only were there different sorts of obstacles, but there were also half-pipes – heaven for skateboarding enthusiasts. Seeing that the two were going to compete here, the enthusiasts got out of the grounds, excitedly watching from the side.
Whoosh – Xia Yan and the skateboarder sped past me. According to the agreed-upon rules, they had to circle the track twice, during which they had to use ten different moves. The first to arrive at the end would be the winner of this race. The first circle had already finished, and their speeds were about the same, though Xia Yan was leading.
MC: Xia Yan, do your best!
Skateboarding Young Man: Hah, is that all you’ve got?
The man laughed disdainfully, springing up at a turn, jumping onto the railings with his feet planted on the board. His skateboard stayed stably on the railings, sliding down the handrails. He swayed twice, stabilized his body, and continued to speed forward after landing back on the ground.
MC: He’s already finished ten moves, and even used the moves to take a shortcut…
As expected of a competition-winning skateboarder – he could use anything on the path. Meanwhile, Xia Yan still had two moves left to go, and the distance between them was widening.
Skateboarding Young Man: Sorry, the result’s determined – you’re going to lose.
Xia Yan: That’s not for sure.
Xia Yan’s foot pushed off forcefully from the ground as he lowered his centre of gravity, seeming like he was about to make some move.
MC: Up front is…
MC: Xia Yan, careful!
There was a deep pit in the middle of the grounds. Unlike before, when he opted for stable paths, he rushed down the half-pipe. The skateboard sped downwards, then shot up along the upwards slope.
Right then, Xia Yan flew up into the air from inertia.
Xia Yan: Just watch me.
MC: …
This scene looked like a stunning artscroll, unforgettable even from a single glance. Amid the azure skies, Xia Yan looked like an eagle with wings spread, soaring into the sky. His extended arms were like wings that sought freedom, as if he would rush into the sky if given a chance. Right then, everyone and everything around me retreated from the stage. My eyes were fixed solely on him.
MC: (Xia Yan… really is amazing.)
The people all around all gasped in amazement, making the skateboarder young man look towards Xia Yan.
Skateboarder Young Man: What?! How could this be…
After the skateboard flipped several times midair, Xia Yan’s foot fell back onto the skateboard. He rushed from the other side of the pit back onto the racecourse, leaving his opponent behind.
Xia Yan: This time, it’s my turn to take a shortcut.
His soft hair fluttered in the summer breeze, a sliver of unruliness on his face, his eyes dazzling.
Xia Yan: As long as one hasn’t arrived at the end yet, there is no such thing as a so-called foregone conclusion in life.
Xia Yan winked at me, leaping down from the ladder on the side of the racecourse.
With a clunk, he dropped stably onto the ground, rushing towards the end.
Xia Yan: Sorry, I win this time.
With ten high-difficulty moves complete, Xia Yan arrived at the end first.
And so, this competition drew to an end.
--
MC: Awesome, we won!
When I saw the race end, I happily ran towards Xia Yan.
Director: Quick, follow with the camera!
Director: Did you catch that shot of him flying up from the slope? That part was absolutely magnificent!
The intense competition seemed to have left Xia Yan somewhat exhausted. He wiped his sweat, wanting to find a place to sit and rest. I got a bottle of water from a staff member, planning to hand it to him. Right then, the cameraman and several staff members walked over, getting near him.
Suddenly, a dazzling light passed before me.
MC: Huh? What’s that?
I took a careful look. One of the field staff was the source of the dazzling light, which came from the opening of his sleeve.
When I saw the thing in his sleeve, cold sweat formed on my back.
That was a knife!
MC: Xia Yan, watch out!
Part 6
When I made out the thing in that person’s hand, my heart leapt up.
MC: Xia Yan, watch out!
When that person heard me, he looked back at me, then straight-up took the small knife out of his sleeve and rushed at Xia Yan.
MC: Crap!
MC: (What do I do?)
Driven by urgency, I snatched the skateboard beside me, throwing it towards the person.
Clonk—
Field Staff: Ah!!!
Caught off-guard by the wooden skateboard striking him, the man staggered. With his sneak attack stopped by me, the man in front of me rushed at me furiously.
Xia Yan: So it was you.
With a cold, short laugh, Xia Yan rushed forward, kicking the knife out of his hand. Before the man could react, Xia Yan caught his hand, restraining him onto the ground.
Field Staff: Let me go! Why did you damn detective have to stick your nose where it doesn’t belong!
Xia Yan: Hah, paying for murder with a lifetime. I merely made your father’s crimes known to the masses.
Xia Yan: Good thing you did not hurt her – otherwise, you would regret it.
Xia Yan looked frigidly at the person on the ground, then paid no more attention to him.
Xia Yan: Call the police.
The program team staff had been shocked frozen by the scene before them, only regaining their senses when Xia Yan reminded them.
Director: Yes, call the police, quick!
The sudden interlude cut the show recording short, and the director apologized to us. Not long after, the police arrived. Xia Yan and I also went to the police station.
--
Police Station
Yan Wei: He confessed. It was indeed him that sent you the threatening messages and emails.
Yan Wei: He thought that it was all because of you that his father ended up in jail.
After Xia Yan and I finished with record-making, we happened to run into Yan Wei, who had just finished interrogation. He looked at Xia Yan, smiling helplessly.
Yan Wei: He suddenly went from an extravagant life as a young master to the son of a criminal. He couldn’t bear it and wanted to get revenge on you.
Xia Yan: I never would’ve thought that he’d be able to get into the program team.
Yan Wei: He hasn’t said how he got in – probably bribed the crew staff.
Yan Wei: Don’t worry, I’ll deal with this thoroughly. I won’t let him threaten your safety.
MC: Thank you for the trouble, Sergeant Yan.
Yan Wei: No need to be polite – it’s part of my work.
--
Park
After we left the police station, the program team director called us, saying that they’d tape the remaining portion another day. During the call, the director repeatedly apologized to us, saying that they would definitely do a strict audit of the identities of the production team members. He also promised that similar things would not happen again.
Xia Yan: I never would’ve thought that he really would blame everything on me.
MC: Ugh… since we were in the middle of filming earlier, I didn’t have time to ask you.
MC: If I didn’t notice that something was off about you, were you not planning to tell me about the situation?
Xia Yan: It’s so rare for us to get out and have fun, and I didn’t want to sweep away your excitement.
Xia Yan: Not to mention that things happened so suddenly, and I wasn’t sure if it was a prank or if someone really was targeting me.
Xia Yan: So I didn’t tell you from the start.
I knew that, when faced with difficulty or danger, Xia Yan’s initial reaction was always to bear it himself. It had always been like this, ever since we were young.
--
[Flashback]
Near the School Grounds
MC: Xia Yan, so you were here.
Xia Yan: Ah… I…
Xia Yan’s foot had just stepped onto the skateboard when he saw me come over, and he hurried to retract it.
MC: When did you buy a skateboard?
Xia Yan: I didn’t, I borrowed it from our classmates… don’t tell uncle and auntie.
MC: The older boy from the neighbors just fell and broke his bone a few days ago, yet you’re still willing to play?
Xia Yan: That’s why I don’t want you to tell uncle and auntie!
MC: Then why did you hide it from me too?
Xia Yan: I didn’t do it on purpose – I wanted to show you after I learned to do it.
Xia Yan: You were the one to say that the older boy looked cool when he was skateboarding, after all…
MC: Really? I don’t even remember that…
Xia Yan: You… ugh…
Xia Yan: Either way, I borrowed a skateboard afterwards, wanting to learn, but you guys said that skateboarding was unsafe, and I was afraid you’d worry if I mentioned it.
Xia Yan: Rather than making you worry all day, I might as well… just not tell you.
MC: …
School Dean: Young man in front, get over here!
Xia Yan: Crap!
MC: I’ll cover for you, run!
[Flashback end]
--
Maybe it was because he worried for others too much, but Xia Yan always tended to hide lots of things inside.
MC: Xia Yan, did you know – when you hide things from me, I get even more worried.
MC: When we were young and you fell while skateboarding and injured yourself, your foot had clearly swollen. Yet you bore it all yourself, saying that it was all fine.
MC: Until mom and dad finally noticed two days later and rushed to take you to the hospital.
Xia Yan: I know… back then, I thought if I just endured it, it would be fine. I didn’t think it would be that serious.
Xia Yan: I originally didn’t want to make you, uncle, and auntie worried, but I ended up causing trouble for everyone instead.
MC: After that, I always worried about if you were hiding anything else from me, bearing it all alone.
Just like today. Even though with Xia Yan’s skill, he still might not have been injured even if I didn’t notice…
But, what if?
During then, Xia Yan had just finished off an intense competition and was exhausted. What if someone was able to take advantage of this to hurt him?
When I thought this, I couldn’t help shivering, balling my hand into a fist.
MC: Fortunately, this time, you didn’t hide it from me the whole time.
MC: If I clearly could have helped you, yet I have to watch you get injured with my eyes wide open, then I will never be able to forgive myself.
I stepped forward, gently clasping onto Xia Yan’s hands. His warm hands were full of calluses, proof of what he had experienced during those eight years. In the past, I always felt that this pair of hands brought a feeling of infinite peace of mind, but now, I also felt a sliver of heartache and worry.
Xia Yan: I know.
Xia Yan held my hands back, his eyes filled with helplessness.
Xia Yan: That’s also why I told you everything in the end.
He gently twisted up my stray hairs, tucking them behind my ears.
Xia Yan: Though I hope that all I bring you is happiness and joy, rather than unease and worry.
Xia Yan: But I know that people can’t stay away from all trouble, especially in NXX, where the road ahead will be difficult to traverse.
Xia Yan: So, I’ve decided. If the road ahead is fated to be covered in thorns, then I will grow with you by your side, no matter what comes at us, traversing this bumpy road fearlessly.
MC: Xia Yan…
Xia Yan: Was what I said a little foolish…
MC: You didn’t. I’m really happy that you’re finally willing to face trouble with me.
Xia Yan: Mhmm. In the future, if I encounter any unsolvable issues, I’ll tell you, and we’ll figure it out together.
MC: Okay, it’s a promise.
Xia Yan let out a long sigh, no longer discussing those slightly depressing topics.
Xia Yan: Today’s challenge was pretty fun. My only regret was how they had to stop filming midway, so we couldn’t rank or get prizes.
MC: It’s fine – plus, I feel like the challenge wasn’t a failure.
MC: It’s precisely because of this ending that I feel like this was a worthwhile trip.
The summer night wind blew over the lake surface, the cool air dominating my senses.
I silently made a wish in my heart – I hoped that one day, I could become strong enough. I hoped that I could also protect Xia Yan, this eagle flying high with his wings spread, and his smile that was as warm as sunshine.
Videocall
Good morning, got any plans today?
Why am I wearing this outfit? Because you said I looked good in it, so I bought it.
I also bought the outfit that you wore during filming.
Speaking of which, after the episode was broadcast, my colleagues laughed at me for a good while, saying that I looked hilarious when I was eating the chili peppers.
They even made me into a meme sticker and sent it into the Ministry group chat… even the teacher who taught me before started using it.
Revealing my identity? No need to worry about that, I reported it to the upper ranks before we went. And it’s exactly because of this that they watched the episode…
For the past few days, I checked out the comments… a lot of people were saying that we looked like a couple, dunno if you saw that…
Your colleagues and friends also said so? Then… do you feel troubled by it…
No? That’s good then. I actually feel like those shots were really well taken, and I rewatched it several times.
It really is great that we can use this sort of method to save good memories.
Right, the weather today’s pretty good, so do you wanna go out and skateboard? I can teach you to do some other things.
No protective gear? You don’t have to worry – I’ve got it all, gear and skateboards.
It might be a bit uncomfortable to wear the gear. If you haven’t gotten used to it, you don’t have to wear it. Either way, I’ll protect you.
With me here, I won’t let you fall, so just relax and leave yourself to me!
Then I’ll head for your house now, and I’ll also bring the clothes. See you soon.
#Tears of Themis#tears of themis translations#xia yan#luke pearce#mihoyo#未定事件簿#tot translation#weiding shijian bu#i am here for raven appearing#and the idea of xia yan's colleagues making him into a meme#oh and the pepper thing#hahaha#ok i'm gonna wither away until we get new xy content see yallll
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石田お寿司 12/9/21 stream translation Part 13
This is not the full translation of the stream. I only translated the parts I could understand & interpret or parts I found interesting/important. I’m still a beginner in Japanese, so the translations may not be accurate. If you want to repost, please repost at your own risk.
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(t/n: ** means translation may not be accurate.)
C: Is Tonari no Young Jump an app?
I: It’s a website. It’s like Jump Plus. It’s not well-known. Choujin X is being serialised there. It’s in Tonari Young Jump. I wanna change the name… Why is it Tonari (neighbour)? Even though I’m doing this with so much pride for Tonari no Young Jump. Even though I’m prepared to work for Tonari Young Jump for the rest of my life. It’s just a neighbour?! It’s not even Young Jump. Young Jump is like a younger version of Jump. It’s still a Jump. It’s Jump’s neighbour. Is Tonari no Young Jump the neighbour of the neighbour of Jump, then? So, I wanna change the name into something cooler! Something like Crazy Jump. Hahaha! Doesn’t that sound marvellous? Crazy Jump. Miracle Crazy Jump.
C: CraJump.
I: Isn’t CraJump sounds nice? Hahaha!
C: In the end, it’s still Jump’s neighbour.
I: That’s true. If we remove Jump, it’ll only be crazy. Tonari no Crazy. That sounds a bit lame. Crazy Jump is better. Haha. Seriously, doesn’t it sounds good? I like that name. Crazy Jump. Hahaha! I wanna serialise my work in Crazy Jump! It’ll only have stories that are banned. It’s for the crazy people who have nowhere else to publish their works. Haha. There is such magazine. Do you know Garo magazine? But Garo isn’t one maybe. We do have Garo magazine, where the writers are kinda like nonconformists. This one’s gonna be like a revival of Garo. Crazy Jump! Where lunatics, and not mangaka, gather. The concept is ‘Welcome to the end of the world’. It’s not ‘Friendship, Effort, Victory’, but ‘Slaughter, Irrationality, Futility’. That’s the motto for Crazy Jump. I wanna think about this thoroughly. It’ll be about fear instead of dream. Slaughter will be the theme.
C: I really wanna read it.
I: I know right! Not a manga like this, instead, you wanna read that kind of magazine. “Welcome to the end of the world. This is the place for people who have given up on all kinds of entertainment.” This isn’t an entertainment anymore. It’s a harassment. Creative Harassment: Crazy Jump.
C: Are you gonna publish Choujin X there?
I: I wanna do it in Crazy Jump not Tonari no Young Jump. I wanna go against OPM. Which one is stronger? Tonari Jump’s OPM vs Crazy Jump’s Choujin X. Crazy Jump is definitely stronger. But Choujin X probably doesn’t fit the criterion for crazy Jump. It’s hard to publish it there. I want the Great Master, Egawa Tatsuya sensei to publish his work in Crazy Jump. I want One sensei in Crazy Jump too. OPM will stay in Tonari Jump, but I want One sensei to publish another work in Crazy Jump. I’ll be the chief editor. I’ll look for people and I have them publish their works there. As long as you’re crazy, you’re in. I’ll hire any nutcases who’re good at drawing.
(Egawa Tatsuya is a mangaka & film director. His known for his work ‘Golden Boy’.)
I: You guys are mistaken. I’m gonna do it for real. I’m seriously doing it. The characteristics that Crazy Jump’s looking for in a writer is firstly, someone who definitely won’t follow the deadlines, but upload a bunch in the spur of the moment. I want the magazine to be random. No one knows what stories are gonna be in the issue. There might be times where there are no stories at all. I want to make it a thrilling magazine. The drawings for the all the stories will be done outside the frame. Hahaha. I wanna create it!
C: Have Togashi sensei publish his work there.
I: That’s absolutely. Togashi sensei has high common sense, so I wanna take that away from him. Crazy Jump is only for lunatics. It’s for people with no common sense and those who doesn’t even realise they don’t have one. Do you understand what I’m saying?
C: The editors must be crazy too?
I: Hmm…It feels like the stupid vibe will be overused. Still, let’s make the figurehead editor wears only brief. Make Mr. Matsuo wears brief.
C: Even the readers are crazy.
I: Probably, only good-for-nothing people will read the magazine, so no. The writers probably hate their own readers. They’d say something like “I don’t wanna draw for this kind of people!”, “I only have cuckoos as my readers!”, etc. “A chain of hatred, welcome to Crazy Jump. That’s why fighting will never stop”. This is the concept.
C: This magazine will make somebody’s happy.
I: Hmm…Maybe it’s better to just gather people who’re good at drawing. Then, I’ll give them welfare payment since the magazine won’t sell. I’ll take care of them. They’re free to draw as they like and money will be given too as long as they make Crazy Jump crazy.
*Nobody’s gonna vote for the survey.
I: You have to vote for 3 series, right? What survey should I do? Pick 3 series that you wanna cancel and they’re gonna be cancelled for real.
C: Yomu Dokuyaku. (t/n: Op was referring to a book called Yomu Mayaku which literally translates as Read Drug. There’s no eng title for the book so I kept it in Japanese.)
I: Hahaha. Not Mayaku, but Dokuyaku (poison). That’s a good one. Yomu Dokuyaku. A poisonous disease. That’s Crazy Jump. I really wanna make Crazy Jump. I wanna read it. I’m gonna drag writers to the darkness. They’d be like “I wanna quit.”, “I started drawing because I wanna write manga like One piece!”, “I liked watching anime at first, I wanted to create a manga that’d become an anime one day. I thought I was able to achieve that.” This is how Crazy Jump’s gonna be. Let’s make a Crazy channel. We’ll broadcast the anime version there.
*Someone commented that Crazy Jump is the going to the opposite side of the classic approach in magazine.
I: It’s not even the opposite. It’s going nowhere. It’s not heading or moving towards anywhere. It’s not heading forward or backward. It sees and hears nothing. I want this kind of magazine to exist…The stories must be crazy. If they’re too crazy, the stories will be discontinued.
C: Animal Rap can easily be serialised there.
I: Why? Animal Rap isn’t crazy at all. It’s totally NHK vibe. It’s even watchable for kids. Animal Rap has wholesome contents, you know? Everyone can watch it.
C: If I won a prize, I’ll report to you. (t/n: OP possibly referring to them winning manga award as they’re aiming to submit their work to Young Jump.)
I: You mean Crazy Jump’s Award? Crazy Jump has no award.
I: Now for the scouting part, I’d scout them like this, “Do you know about Crazy Jump? How about it? Do you have the courage to be crazy?”, “Would you like to serialised your work in Crazy Jump?”. All of these would be conversed through private message. It’d be a secret deal.
I: It’s time for me to scout people now. I wanna do that kind of business too, scouting business. I’ll gather any reckless youngsters, middle-aged men, and old men as well to work in Crazy Jump.
I: I wanna scout housewives too. I’ll make them write crazy mangas. Isn’t that a totally good idea? A housewife writing a crazy manga. In between taking care of children and doing chores, they write such manga. It’ll be a profound work. We need to unseal the hidden craziness lies within housewives.
I: Don’t you feel intrigued by it? You’d be shocked if people who are close to you or someone who you sympathises with create something crazy. The smiling old man that you often see is actually writing such insane manga. What’d your reaction be? You might think he’s lunatic.
I: Crazy Jump will even scout the readers since there’s always be a shortage in human resources.
C: Will I get scouted if I sent an eccentric letter to Crazy Jump’s editor?
I: No, you can’t. Insane people don’t realise that they’re insane. Those who can judge that they’re crazy can be external employees. It’s time for geniuses to step aside. This magazine will only be for madmen. Every writer is a lunatic.
*He’s taking about what if it’s Criminal Jump instead of Crazy Jump?
I: Aren’t you interested to know what kind of stories the magazine would have if all the writers were criminals. They might write heartwarming or fantasy genres. If they did that, you’d have some sort of love-hate relationship with the authors.
I: If Criminal Jump was issued, people would start commit crimes just to have their work serialised in the magazine. That’d be another problem. Suddenly, people would start killing others because they wanted to be like the authors in Criminal Jump. This is definitely a bad idea. Crime is a big no-no. Crazy Jump is the coolest, after all.
C: The heroine definitely dies in Crazy Jump.
I: I wonder… She’ll die when it’s time. Let’s make clams as heroines. Ms. Clam. There’s no explanation for that. This way, the heroines won’t die. (t/n: He really did say clam as in the food clam.)
I: But to create a true mad story, it has to be natural. The story for every heroine will be about reincarnation every time. Ultimately, the stories will be about reincarnation. The story will start off normally, but it’ll end with the protagonist getting reincarnated.
*He continued expanding the reincarnation ideas.
I: If every ending will have a reincarnation setting, then it’s gonna be a common concept and not abnormal anymore. Everyone will expect the same ending. But I wanna try writing that kind of story as a mangaka. I wanna try write it once. On the other hand, when there’s no reincarnation happened in the stories, people would start wondering.
*Ishida mentioned TG.
I: I realised TG was a bit crazy when I reread it. I conceitedly told few people that they had few loose screws in the head. Seemed like I was the same too. It was fun reading it after a long time. It kinda had a crazy vibe.
C: How about making the stories use coined/new words, but they never explain what the words mean till the end?
I: Hmm… That’s considered as crazy in a way. Final fantasy 13 did that kind of stuffs, with the term ‘falcie’ and all. It was quite a rumour. I didn’t play it though.
C: The Falcie’s Lacie purge Cocoon. (referring to FF13.)
I: You’d maybe understand what they mean if you played the game. Rather than crazy, the game was just being not user friendly. It’d be better if they slowly explained what the words meant throughout the game.
I: Everyone must be tired already. Should we stop talking about Crazy Jump now?
C: Has your work progressed?
I: I don’t know. Is it?
*Reading comments.
C: Aren’t you gonna sleep?
I: I woke up at wrong hours. So, I’m still not sleepy.
I: Should we end the stream? I’m already satisfied. Let’s end it.
C: In the end, what are we gonna do for 30,000 subscribers’ commemoration?
I: The most likely one would be a ‘Thank you’ video. I’ll just scream “Thank you!’.
C: Are you satisfied now?
I: Yeah.
I: It’s been a long time since I streamed, so I got carried away. Okay then. Thank you. Who just joined in, please watch it in the archive. I’m gonna upload Animal Rap. Thank you.
Part 1
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ATEEZ Diary album and AR photocards analysis
Finally got my albums and got to see what all these asks I got about the diary were asking me about so I’m going to go through all the entries and try to make sense out of them! I’ll theorize about the AR photocard bonus stories at the end, since they all take place after the events of the Diary Film and the entries on the diaries.
A INTRO: The time passing by, our dreams
This entry takes place after the Diary Film. It mostly describes the memories the members shared in their hideout.
“This is our onw space. Laughing, crying, arguing, dancing, and singing. A space where our dreams came together. Our hideout, our own world, separating us form the adult world”
I highlighted the word adult because the main point of this new series is how much ATEEZ want to hold onto their youth and dreams.
“Right now, it is a moment void of compromises and tameness. It is the moment before we opened that door”
That last line indicates this entry takes place after ATEEZ opened the door to a new world.
01 HONGJOONG: I don’t want to be forgotten as if I never existed
This entry gives us more insight about Hongjoong’s reason to join the group. As I wrote on my Diary Film analysis, all the members stories introduce the reasons that brought them together to pursue their dream: music. Back then Hongjoong’s was too subtle, but it becomes clearer here.
”Once I become a bright star that can be seen from everywhere, like those people on TV, will my family notice me? Even if it were by coincidence, I wish I could meet them at least once. If my family could come together like before... I miss the warmth of my living room”
It seems like Hongjoong’s family broke apart time before the events of the Diary take place. He’s definitley not an orphan, as he wishes to meet them once again. We don’t know why but Hongjoong’s family abandoned him and left it alone. It seems like Hongjoong’s motive to pursue music is to be an artist, and get noticed by his family in the hopes that they can get reunited once again.
“My family scattered around and here I am with my new family I made while living alone... [...] My family, the music I love, our dreams... We must keep them”
02 SEONGHWA: She, who was dancing to the beat
Seonghwa’s entry doens’t give us more insight into his story than what I already wrote about on the Diary Film analysis.
“She was moving as if nothing mattered anymore. Common sense, Rules, and this though world didn’t have power over her moves. Right this moment, my world broke around this snowy road”
Is it weird that I was interested in the snow? I know is probably just a minor detail, but I find it interesting that they added it since there was no snow in the Diary Film. I think it serves as way of putting everything in chronological order, since the weather is mentioned a lot on the diary entries.
“Ever since that day, I went to the same place at the same time. But, she never came back. I didn’t know her name or her address. Just like the “Be Free” bracelet she wore, she freed herself away [...] Since then, music never sounded the same again”
As I mentioned before, the Girl becomes a source of inspiration to Seonghwa, and he’s moved by what she represents. He wishes he could find her again and grasp that feeling, but the time never comes, because that’s what she ultimatley represents.
03 YUNHO: Weather is clear
Unlike the others (except Yeosang) this is literally a diary entry. I believe Yunho is writing this diary to communicate with his brother. Obviously not literally, but is a way for him to put the things he wants to say to him in order.
"Hey brother, you look like you are in such a good mood today! The weather is so good as well. Even though I was running to see you, I didn’t feel the heat. [...] It has been a while since I took out your broken guitar. I wanted to get rid of it because it always reminded me of a broken side of you. [...] I just left it out of sight because it seemed like you abandoned your dream”
As it was confirmed during Air Con, it was indeed Yunho’s brother who had an accident, and to me this sounds like Yunho’s brother abandoned his dream before that happened. Yunho seems to have hidden that guitar from him when he abandoned his dream and didn’t want him to see it again, but after he had the accident, he put it out again.
“I have a friend like you in my team. His name is Hongjoong. He is the kind of person I would go to when things get tough [...] I avoid thinking about these painful memories and instead I am focusing on the dreams you couldn’t achieve. I will make them happen; the boys and I will make them happen.”
As I theorized before, Yunho’s brother’s dream was related to music. Yunho even mentions doing street performances together at Han River. At some point his bother gave up, so Yunho wants to make it happen for him.
Also good news, Yunho’s bother isn’t dead!!
“When the time time comes, you must wake up from the long hibernation. I want to show you all of it! I’ll be back tomorrow. Good night!”
Yunho’s brother seems to be in a coma, so Yunho goes to visit him everyday. I think maybe the message Yunho receives is either related to the acccident, or might be bad news about his brother’s state. Both of those theories could trigger Yunho’s recalling of the accident. Still have no solid theory about Mingi.
04 YEOSANG: Just like a midsummer night’s dream
Yeosang’s diary entry gives a lot of new details about his personality, and I think maybe a clue about his role in the bigger picture. Also is important to note that the FEVER: Part One track “Dear Diary: 2017.07.29″ belongs to Yeosnag’s diary. The lyrics fit his writing prompt, and ahead there is a part that also fits the lyrics.
But going back to Yeosang, he has a very perfectly planned life, and the only thing he finds personal pleasure in is fixing things.
“I was never too good with mechanincs. It all started when I dismantled the speaker. Everytime I felt stuffy, I would disassemble various appliances or instruments and then reassemble them back together.”
I highlighted the speaker part because it reminded me of Jongho’s Diary scene. Probably nothing but I found it interesting.
Yeosnag must have been looking for things to break apart in the area where the hideout was, and that’s how he met the members, and that’s how he found a new love for music.
“My parents had everything planned for me: doing the same routine at the exact time. The only time I could go out of this cycle was when I disassembled and reassembled things. Thanks to this weird habit I met the guys. That day in that shabby warehouse a group of guys I’d normally run away from, asked me if I knew how to work a drone. This whole encounter was a little strange! [...] The sound of music is what brought me to that place. From that day on, I went everyday”
Now here is where this diary entry connects to the “Dear Diary” intro. The words in bold are the ones that are part of “Dear Diary”.
“For the first time, hearts pounding like it’s about to burst and this tingling feeling coming up from my fingertips started to take over me. Was there a moment when I wanted something this bad? One by one more kids started to say my name. The path that I slowly walked with one antoher person became a path to many. Slowly, the word ‘I’, became ‘ours’ (us)”
This makes it official that Yeosang is the owner of the diary being read in the album intro. Also, the person writing the english parts seems a little bit off with it at times, especially in the AR photocards. I think what it was meant to say at the end is “us”, not “our”, since they are the same word in Korean, so it might have slipped the translator.
Now, I believe this is very important. Because Yeosang was forced to give up on the boys because of his parents.
“Dancing was such a mind-blowin activity. Even if I saw my parent’s worried faces flashing before my eyes, I just could stop. [...] However now I must leave the ‘our’ (us). If I back out everything will be back to normal, the scattered members and the stolen hideout. I’m sorry, guys”
I wonder if this is why ATEEZ is trying to rescue the trapped Yeosang in Say My Name. Following the Inception concept theory, they might have entered Yeosang’s dream to try and rescue him, because as it was said before, Yeosang is a central piece to the story. Maybe it has something to do with his ability to build things?
05 SAN: I don’t know
Oh boy do I have some things to ask to San. This is by far the story that annoys me the most and is probably stupid but.... well you’ll see. His entry starts with him complaining about being unable to connect with people before having to leave them.
“[...] I’ve never had time to open up. Every time I got closer to someone, I had to move. It’s happening again today. But this time is a little different. Now I have friends to talk to about my feelings. As soon as I saw them, I knew right off the bat, they were like me”
“Oh, Seonghwa was a little different. He never tried to do anything the traditional way, he was always “HIS” way”
This is in capital letters, and I can’t help to think that the members who are mentioned by others give clues as to what “side” they are on later on in the story. The way he mentions Seonghwa like that but doens’t bring it up again, could fit in my theory that Seonghwa takes a bigger role in another part of the story.
“Can I just leave like that now that I have a place of my own... What should I say to Wooyoung? Thanks to him, thanks to my friends, I was able to perfect my dance moves”
Wooyoung is a very popular member in the story, as expected of the person that so far has been proved to be the most central member to the storyline.
And now..... let’s talk about that
“Bobo, what should I do? What? You want me to do it “MY” way?”
Now, who in the ever-living-hell is Bobo. It’s a given name, since he refers to them as “Bobo-yah”. And if you think it’s just a passing comment, sadly for me, it isn’t!!! just wait and look at his AR card later!!
06 MINGI: the sound of his laughter
Here we have someone else talking about Wooyoung. Honestly I was surprised people asked me about Woosan as a ship being important because San mentioned him once (1) but Mingi’s story is entirely dedicated to Wooyoung and his laugh and people decided to ignore it for the sake of their own narrative but ANYWAYS
“Music was my haven, my escape, my one and only relief. When I feel like dying, I listen to music”
“Only a few friends names you remember through elementary, middle and high school. [...] No one talked to me, but that is mainly because I didn’t answer if they try talking to me. But Wooyoung was different. Not that I remember [...] Wooyoung would always come next to me during every break. Whether I answer or not. He would go on with his stories [...] and that music team he works with outside of school. He always tops it with a signature smile of his, which naturally made me laugh. Out of shyness, I started calling him “Woo-ong. Ah that laugh of his. He was the first friend I opened up to”
So we have someone else who owes a lot to Wooyoung. I wonder if this is why we see Mingi breaking the chains that restrain Wooyoung during WONDERLAND. This will come back later.
“[...] It was around that time too when I followed him to the hideout for the first time; the place where I could dream. They were friends who took me as I am. They accepted me as who I am, regardless of where I live who my parents were. But now I’m getting scared, can I really have a dream? Will it not be taken away from me?”
This is Mingi doubting if he’s allowed to have dreams since he’s not in a position where he can allow himself to have such lavish dreams. And so the fight with Jongho happened.
07 WOOYOUNG: It’s different this time
I love how Wooyoung’s diary entries are subtle flexes.
“Will I fail again? When I was practicing and dancing alone, I was pretty confident! My practice video on social media has reached over 100.000 views. Many people contacted me and even big entertainment agencies offered me to audition for them. But once I felt their look towards me, I just couldn’t move [...] I closed my eyes trying to escape, and then Seonghwa’s voice popped in my head. I felt their presence even though they were nowhere to be seen”
This is probably what we saw on the Diary Film, different setting but definitely what is supposed to represent on those flahbacks. Once again Seonghwa seems to stand out among the other members when it comes to his way of doing things.
"I had a habit of overchatting to overcome stage fright and I practiced laughing to hide my shyness. It was a defense mechanism of mine to focus”
I just found this cute because it means he was nervous about Mingi back then.
“The firs time I met Hongjoong, Seonghwa and Yunho were at the street performance [...] When I danced with them I wasn’t self-conscious. My legs are tense. The first step, the step that I was never able to do, the chain that was trying my body, was magically released"
The chain thing again! I mentioned in my Inception post how it’s tied to WONDERLAND, at least definitley by the concept of Inception in on itself.
08. JONGHO: I had it all planned
Finally we find out why Jongho beat Mingi on the Diary Film! Here Jongho recalls how he felt after he was forced to give up on basketball, his first dream.
“I felt like I was drowning. No matter how hard I tried, I was still stuck in the exact same spot [...] everything inside me was lifeless, as good as being dead”
“That lifeless look, before Yunho grabbing my hand, looked so much like me. My hand is throbbing from the pain. Mingi clealry saw the fist coming his way but didn’t try to avoid it. His lifeless eyes are still haunting me. When Mingi said he would quit, that our dream was a luxury, and that the time we spent together meant nothing to him, I couldn’t stand but to punch him. Funny enough, it was a heart-brekaing moment for me but also the time I started dreaming again. At that time, I didn’t know how to reach out to a lost Mingi. Where are we, where should we go?”
So Mingi decided to give up on his dream because he felt giving up on it before it was stripped away from him by the tough reality of his situation, and so Jongho couldn’t stand it.
Z OUTRO: Into the New World
The title here proves how ahead the staff was with thin concept even before ATEEZ was created. If you remember, ATEEZ was going to be named “New World”, so this proves that this concept already existed even before the group was created. Now, just like the Diary Film, this is told from Hongjoong’s prespective again.
“Even though I lost my dream and my family again, there was nothing I could do. Everyone left and here I am, lost again”
He recalls how little by little, all the members drifted apart.
“On a summer day [...] we decided to go our separate ways”
Now I wonder if this, the day they went their separate ways, is the date on the diary, July 29, 2016. This could also be the date of the entry in Yeosnag’s diary, as well as the “Dear Diary” intro, which as we found out, is the day he decided to abandon them.
“All because our dream of being together have become like shackles that hold us down. The scorhcing sun melted away even our dream of youth and made it disappear [...] Even if, not often, the promises we made were pushed back day by day, and we forgot about each other. It was around that time when I began seeing him in my dreams”
“The man in the fedora [...] a somehow familiar, but tired eyes”
Now, this is supposed to be Hongjoong, even if he himself said he wasn’t aware it was supposed to be him.
“You lost your dream not because of the tough reality, but because you guys decided to. Get rid of the idea that the world you see is everything. There are many dimensions and many relaities in this world. The world I am in, the world you are in, are all real. I want to tell you everything, but I don’t have much time right now”
so HALAteez really seem to be on ATEEZ’s side. At least here, because during SMN, Hongjoong said their role was to stop Real ATEEZ. And now, the big reveal! Turns out the hourglass has a name, and it’s The Cromer.
“The Cromer. The key to connecting the world. [...] Follow your heart. The map is there”
That’s when HALAteez disappears, and we go back to the end of the Diary Film.
“I fell asleep in the hideout where no one was looking for me. [...] Wasn’t it a dream? While looking at the Cromer I inadvertently turned it around. The sand in the hourglass started to flow from bottom to top. The iron door then opened and I could hear the footsteps coming closer one by one. The guys then gathered around me with the smae puzzled face”
The highlighted parts are what the secret code in the ANSWER albums say.
Now, onto the AR photocards. As I said before, these take place in the future of the Diary Film events. (thank you so much to @honggers for helping me find them!!)
HONGJOONG
"Cromer... The treasure that made us dream again. The one who appeared in our dreams, and because of Cromer lying in front of my eyes when I woke up from my dream, I was able to protect the members. Though it was difficult and lonely at times, I was able to endure these days thanks to our members. Therefore, everything became all of mine and when the members began scattering away I had a heartache so painful I wanted to die. Though I might not know what lies ahead of me, the most important part of my life than this new world is our members who I cherish like family and continue to protect in our dream”
Okay so all the things highlighted in there make me think that this version of Hongjoong seems very intense. The members are all he has and this sounds like he would go as far as he could to keep them together. Could he go as far as to keep them in a dream against their will?
SEONGHWA
“Those who knew me would have never thought that I will be in this place. In fact, they can’t even imagine the existence of this place... I am.. No! We are here with fear and also, excitement. Each day was full of mystery. What will happen today? My knowledge about common sense, different logic and numbers faded away, just like the day I first saw her”
This is the first time “this place” is mentioned, which I’m pretty sure refers to either a diferent dimension or the illusion they have sunken themselves into.
YUNHO
"Brother how is everything? Can you see this place where I am at? I’m going to believe you are watching me. This place is unique yet fmailiar. In no doubt I can assure you that this place is not the same place you and I dreamt of. You can’t really hear the music here. In fact, I don’t see anyone here who feels happy about lsitening to music. So, we want to sing to the people here and of course with great choreography. Brother, I miss you.”
Now, Yunho is the first member that seems unhappy here. He misses his brother, he really wants to go back to him at some point. And also, this is not the dream Yunho had in mind, this is not the dream his brother had, which was his main reason to join the group. Maybe Yunho is having second thoughts.
YEOSANG
"Father, I’m walking on a path that I might never be able to return from again. I used to only walk on a clear and pretty path, where there’s not even a single peck of pebbles to be seen. But now, as I walk down an uneven path, my feet keep throbbing. Though my feet are killing me, my heart is in a state of tranquility. I feel like I’m free from your world. I am able to express this new freedom that I’ve never experienced before. Though I love you and mother, I wasn’t happy at all the in the world that you and mother were in. With my friends, I am now going to the place that I chose.”
Yeosnag seems very happy whenever they are, but the part in which he says “might never be able to return from again” might be a problem for other members.
SAN
“I laughed all the time because I never relaly got too close. Actually, I had to say farewell before I even got close. Then I met again. This is what the word “friend” meant to me. Therefore, the only friend that I can open up to was my friend Bobo, who was always there beside me. I’ve never been away so long with Bobo. I’m worried if Bobo is eating well or not... Hopefully, Bobo is worried about me as well. Hey Bobo, I am on a starnge journey with my first real friends. I’m not too sure how I am here or where I am but don’t worry too much. I will be back. I promise.”
Who the fuck is Bobo. Who the fuck is Bobo who thE FUCK!!
At first it didn’t seem that important but San’s whole AR photocard is dedicated to them!! And just like with Yunho, San is determined to come back for Bobo, so he too might have trouble with the “never coming back” part of the journey. I think Bobo might be a pet, or a doll, an imaginary friend (?) he did say “real friends” so...
MINGI
“I want this moment to last forever. The moment I had with my friends and being able to feel joy and happiness. I almost ruined it all. If I had not been here, I wouldn’t be able to get it back. No matter where this palce is, it doens’t matter what happens from now on.”
Another member who doens’t seem to want this to end, ever. I wouldn’t be surprised, since Mingi and Hongjoong get a lot of visual shots together.
WOOYOUNG
"Today was the day I was supposed to sign the contract. It was actaully a good oportunity that people would envy. It was a chance to debut in a big company and a success story in front of my eyes. But what’s the point of doing this, when I can’t go back. What if I can go back? Hmm... Let’s not think about it. Friends will mock me.”
Okay, first of all. Flex.
Second, this is what Wooyoung meant by “taking the easy way out” on his prompt, he could have had it easy, but instead chose the memebers. Also... Wooyoung what are you thinking? Does he know about the Cromer? He said “friends will mock me” so does that mean he knew about a way of coming back before even Hongjoong was offered the Cromer? After all, Wooyoung is carrying the Cromer during ANSWER, and he seems to be attached to it. Once again, Wooyoung is a central piece of the story, but he’s teasing us once again.
JONGHO
"An empty court, basketball, teammates, everything during my teens. I saw myself when I gave up all this through the loneliness look in Mingi’s eyes. At that time, my eyes would have been the same. I wanted to talk to him. Don’t give up, and I’m sorry. I came here all of a sudden without even be able to talk to him. My heart aches more when Mingi showed his kindness towards me as if nothing happened”
So Jongho and Mingi are back to being friends. The girls aren’t fighting anymore. There is peace.
THE MAN WITH THE BLACK FEDORA
“What’s the point of keeping these dreams when we have to give up things that matter?” “Is this that worth even where I have to let go of myself?” Whatever the answer is, it is your own decision”
I believe these questions are being asked by either Hongjoong or the members. They have to give up not only their lives, but it seems that they have to give up a part of themselves. Could that be when their lyrics wonder about who or where they are, or if anyhting is real at all?
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Then Again, Part 25 (Peter Parker x Reader)
Masterlist (with AO3 links)
Total word count: 47,470
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 26,
Summary: After an intense argument and a forced-to-share-the-bed situation during their junior year decathlon trip, Peter and the Reader examine their faults and failings. As they attempt to fix their mistakes and improve their friendship, that friendship quickly begins to evolve into something else.
Slow burn fic in which all characters are included and their dynamics explored; multiple character POVs.
Betas: @girl-tips-from-satan and @fanboyswhereare-you
Without further ado,
Then Again Part 25:
(Words: 3,948)
“It’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
The thought of Peter making more of an effort, of him consciously choosing to pay me closer attention with the active intention of improving our friendship-- it isn’t the worst idea. If anything, it’s a rather attractive solution to a nonexistent problem. The suggestion alone is already prompting imaginary scenarios I refuse to acknowledge right now; though, inevitably, they’ll become daydream fuel within a couple days. Still, the whole plan is unnecessary, and I know it. I’m not angry with him anymore. I may have a few questions (some I plan on asking, some I’ll keep to myself), but if I do have any hidden resentment for his behavior stowed away in my subconscious, it’s as small and inconsequential as a handful of sand in the sea. Allowing him to carry this plan out would be using him. The pretenses would be false.
Even apart from that, though, his texts gave off an odd, metallic aftertaste. The proposal reads mechanically-- it’s a scientific study with a simple hypothesis (and a reluctant dependent variable). It’s the idea of being a lab mouse, I think, that earns it the title the dumbest thing in my mind. It’s condescending. Even if tempting.
Then again, I know Peter. I understand he doesn’t actually view me as a test subject to analyze and discard after the results come in. We’re friends. He feels bad and tossed out a poorly worded solution because he thinks I’m secretly pissed at him. It’s only an idea he offered, one I have full power to reject.
Maybe I’m trying to dismiss it quickly because, if I’m being honest, I’m selfish. Selfishly, I want to say yes despite knowing the sort of negative message it would send to Peter. A small part of me is willing to let him feel worse so I can pretend his own guilty feelings are more significant than they really are. The possibility, the mirage just within reach, of balancing that tightrope between reality and fantasy with him is... alluring, to say the least.
And impossible. It would be wrong. Wouldn’t it? Of course it would be.
Like blades slicing fruit in a blender, my brain whips through these thoughts within seconds. Across on her bed, Michelle’s expression can only be described as disapproving or faintly disgusted as she too digests Peter’s idea. It’s the male stupidity is endless look we share when near particularly annoying men in public. It’s not often one we have to exchange in reference to the boys; their moronic moments tend to be entertaining rather than obnoxious, ignorant, or misogynistic.
She meets my eyes, and I wonder if my face gives anything away.
“That feels weird to me.”
The sentence is a verbal tiptoe forward, an almost-question probe.
“It did sound weird saying it out loud,” I agree.
“You know,” she says, her tone mildly serious as she sits up straighter. “You’re not obligated to say yes to everything because you don’t want to disappoint someone. Especially a boy. And especially if he’s trying to fix his dumb mistakes by pressuring you into something you’re not comfortable with.” She pauses, glancing at the ceiling and raising an eyebrow. “If you want, I can make him come to his senses.”
Michelle tightens her fists and mimes three exaggerated punches. I imagine it, amused: Before the bite, Peter wouldn’t have stood a chance against her if she really meant it; now, he’d probably put his arms up to block her blows, minimally annoyed, and wait for her to tire herself out. I roll my eyes and can’t help mirroring her smile.
Nevertheless, her wording is….
The same question pops up for the millionth time.
Do I want her to know?
“It’s Peter, it’s not, like, ‘a boy,’” I say first, air quoting the last words. Maybe later, depending. But for now, I’ll avoid it. “And I’ll pass, but I appreciate the offer. I’m not uncomfortable and he isn’t being pushy or anything. I only meant that the…” nearly impersonal approach to our personal relationship? “the hyperconscious wording is weird. I wouldn’t turn down free snacks if the offer wasn’t described as a….” situation in which he views us as mere associates or abstract friends--
Again, I remind myself he probably doesn’t see it that way.
“Monitored social experiment with unequal power dynamics?” she offers.
That fits.
“Precisely.”
She snorts. Shaking her head, Michelle pauses for a few more seconds. Mentally chewing it all over again, her expression bounces from annoyance to curiosity to neutrality to annoyance again to what looks surprisingly close to compromise or understanding. In the meantime, I focus on watching her facial journey and not thinking.
In the tune of surrender, she sighs before she speaks.
“I’m sure he’s trying his best,” she says reluctantly, her hands opening outward like a shrug, “his best is just bad. If it were anyone else, I’d tell you to refuse and block them. But, as much as it pains me to admit, I think we both know him too well to think his motives are as stupid as his phrasing. If anything, he’s probably excited about his ‘new genius friendship plan.’”
Nodding, relief hums under my skin: I know she’s right. I mean, how many people would fight crime to protect countless strangers in their city, then turn around and have cold, detached views of their chosen, personal friends?
“That’s true,” I say. “I should probably text him back, then.”
She holds up a finger as I reach for my phone.
“Still,” she adds with a tone of subtle authority, “it’s up to you. I’m not saying you should say yes -- no obligations, remember? -- I just don’t think you need to worry that he isn’t trying or isn’t being genuine. That’s all.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Michelle’s stare lasts a moment longer, her sincerity as visible and certain as the brown of her eyes. After a second or two, she sits back onto her pillows and relaxes, turning to face the t.v. once again, leaving me to work out my final decision on my own. As I allow myself to reiterate my own arguments in my head, the Cullen family discusses the mythology of half human, half vampire fetuses with Jacob.
It doesn’t take me long to reach a conclusion. Maybe it’s because I’m pretty tired, but the answer seems obvious, straightforward and simple in logic. I unlock my phone with the feeling Michelle knows exactly what I’m about to type. I begin to write the message I had settled on before: “I’ll think about it.” Simple and honest. And temporary.
But then something else pops into my brain, and, foolishly, I write that instead.
“What about you? Do you need new reasons to be around me?”
I send the text without a moment’s reflection. Rereading it, it sounds a little… coded, to say the least. Like a Freudian slip. Don’t overthink it. God, I hate Freud. But it does sound desperate. And awkward. Damn. It definitely does. It reminds me of the embarrassing things I used to post on social media in middle school, which I really shouldn’t think about either.
I only wondered if the idea should go both ways. Instead, the message sounds insecure... which I am, I suppose, but he doesn’t need to know that.
Bubbles appear on his side. I resist the urge to send a series of backpedaling messages. They disappear. Again. My self control dissipates and I quickly send the original one: I’ll think about it.
Unthinking, I pull the small keychain out of my pocket as I wait for his reply and massage the edge. Sticking the pointed corner into my thumbpad, I accidentally dig it in harder than intended. And I realize something.
The keychain was the first. The gifts or incentives or things.
A flat click of a nearby door closing snaps my attention. The boys’ room? Glancing up, I see flash of Edward pleading with Jacob on the t.v. screen, and to my left, a shadow stepping up to the door. A gap in the golden line of outside light.
For half a minute, nothing happens. Aside from Rosalie shouldering past Jacob as he walks in to speak to Bella. After that, when it does come, the sound is soft.
Knock. Knock knock knock knock, knock knock.
It’s Peter. Ned’s knocking pattern is shorter.
The sound jolts my heart rate a smidge, like a phantom defibrillator.
Michelle’s head rolls to one side to stare at the hallway, her shoulders slumped in an I’m giving up posture.
“That’s very obviously for you,” she says, pushing herself up and tossing the Twizzler bag on the nightstand, “so I’ll let you go deal with it. I think I’ll brush my teeth and get ready for bed.” She hops off the mattress, raises her arms, and stretches them from side to side. “You okay if we call it a night?”
“More than okay,” I say, standing up as well, the carpet cool under my toes. Once I speak to Peter, I’ll need to knock out. Otherwise my brain will spiral. And maybe, if all goes well, my dreams tonight will be better than staying up to snicker at this hilariously shitty movie. “But what if it is for you?”
She rolls her eyes.
“Tell them I’m gone. Missing, dead, whatever.” Michelle clamps her eyes shut and sticks her tongue out to mimic cartoonish death. Then she pops back to life with a fake warning glare. “So long as no one bothers me.”
She hits the off button on the remote, Jacob and Bella dissolving into nothing, and as she trudges to the bathroom, I slip the keychain and a keycard back into my pocket before copying her arm stretch to calm my buzzing nerves. Michelle salutes me before turning and closing the bathroom door. I walk to the hallway’s. The handle is cold to the touch.
I swing it open. As expected: Peter. The empty space surrounding him is relatively quiet, only muffled laughter and television sounds coming from rooms at the opposite end. The air smells like linens, cleaning supplies, and artificial lavender. This too is as expected: the typical, sanitary comfort of staying in a nice hotel at night. I tell myself it’s a calming environment.
Peter’s in his usual pajamas, an old beat up t-shirt and sweatpants, standing slightly to the left, hands clasped in front of him. His height drops a tiny bit at the sound of the door, like he was rocking from heel to toe a second ago, and as his eyes lift from the floor to meet mine, he smiles. A warm swooping sensation envelops my stomach.
“Hey! You answered.”
He almost sounds surprised. I make a face in response.
“You thought I wouldn’t?”
I mean this as a joke, a reference to the couple late nights he’s shown up at my door (window, really) to clean or patch himself up before going home. As he knows, I’m not in the habit of shutting him out.
Still, his head tilts and his eyebrows go up into an expression of, Well, you weren’t exactly answering me before. It isn’t a challenging or upset look. If anything, it’s almost flustered.
“Fair enough,” I concede, lukewarm guilt sticking in my throat. “I was thinking about it though, I promise, I just hadn’t decided for sure yet.”
He nods, fidgeting with his fingernails and momentarily glancing at the floor.
“Yeah, I get that,” he says, looking back up. His ears redden. “I, uh, phrased it pretty moronically. Or at least that’s what Ned said.”
He takes a step or two back, closer to his door. It seems like an invitation to make the conversation more private, so I close mine and Michelle’s and step forward.
“All I meant,” he continues, his hands rolling over one another in gesture, “was that I thought it might be helpful if I did a few nice things for you when we get back. Not like I’m actually trying to condition you, like a, like a--”
“Dog?”
His hands halt and his face pinches into an expression that practically reads I am painfully aware of every mistake I have ever made and how the number continues to grow in marker across his forehead. His eyes retain a lightness though, the sort that suggests he’s able to laugh about it. He runs his right hand through his hair. Mine twinges.
“Exactly. I feel like that makes it seem kind of, um--”
“Bad?”
“Very bad,” he confirms, nodding. He takes a deeper breath, half smiling in an embarrassed, self pitying way. “I honestly forgot about that Pavlock stuff, I was just trying to use psych terms to make it sound more persuasive and, um, I don’t know, impressive?”
He shrugs and offers an I know I’m an idiot, but thank you for being patient smile. I bite my tongue against correcting Pavlov, which he seems incapable of pronouncing properly. Even when we studied for that exam, he only said it properly a handful of times, despite Michelle flicking bits of paper at him each time he said Pavlock.
I smile too, noting the irony. And I think of what she said: he’s trying his best, his best is just bad. It doesn’t seem so bad when he’s standing in front of me, though. If anything, it’s easy.
“You mean,” I begin to ask, more to tease than to clarify, “as opposed to the highly offensive and disagreeable, ‘Hey, I want to make up for being a jerk, so I’m going to stash some snacks for you in my locker’?”
He bites his lip as if it’ll keep his grin pinned down, though it doesn’t really. A blush spreads across his cheekbones and for a split second, he looks away to the other end of the hall. When he looks back, his smile falters, just a little. The vulnerability reminds me of his apology last night, when he thought I was sleeping.
“I was thinking maybe it’d be more than snacks?” he offers. “Like, I don’t know, I don’t really have it figured out yet, but hanging out a bit more? Movie nights or that sort of thing? Or if you have a lot of homework, we could study together and help each other stay focused?”
That last suggestion seems like an oxymoron. Study together to keep ourselves on track? It’s a laughable concept. Well, only if it’s--
“Just us?”
Peter freezes, his shoulders straightening slightly, his height rising a few millimeters.
That is the central question, though. Whether it’s a positive or negative point toward my decision, I can’t tell. All the same, it’s been ages since we last tried studying together, just the two of us. It works best with Michelle and Ned there as well, seeing as we tend to get distracted.
His eyes move quickly between mine as if he’s trying to read my thoughts before answering. He squints.
“Is that okay?” he asks, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. “I understand if not, if it’s uncomfortable or--”
I shake my head, putting my hand on his arm to stop him, only realizing it when his eyes flicker to that hand.
“Of course not,” I say, removing it. “I mean, of course it’s okay. We’ve hung out without Ned and MJ tons of times before. It’s been a while but it’s no big deal. That’d be fine.”
“Okay, good!” he says, the tension in his body evaporating. “That’s great!”
His eyes have lit up. I imagine he’s relieved those two won’t be around the whole time to make fun of his movie choices or whatever he has planned. I try to hold a smile to reassure him and clear his doubts while internally pinching myself to remember to not think too much on this. There’s no need to dust off those old, useless daydreams of movie nights and falling asleep on his shoulder with his head atop mine and May lightly laying a blanket across us and all the rest. Absolutely no need. Shut it down.
He runs a hand through his hair, nodding in a way that’s usually accompanied by him saying cool, cool, cool, cool.
“Would Fridays be good for movie nights?”
I barely register the question before I answer it.
“Probably, sure. That should be alright.”
His smile widens and he shakes his head once and continues nodding.
“Perfect! We can have it at my place.”
I nod back, chest tightening as I process. At the same time, I beg my brain not to process. Just for a minute. But then, since I refuse to let them move forward, the gears in my head turn backward, thoughts reeling like a bicycle chain. Judging by the look on Peter’s face, we’re realizing the same thing:
“Wait,” he says carefully. “So you’re saying yes? Like, you’re cool with it? You want to try?”
God help me.
“I suppose so,” I say. At hearing my own answer, a different type of swooping feeling runs from my feet up. The looking over a high balcony type.
“And we’ll figure the rest out later?” he asks.
“Peter, really, if you’re still planning on the locker snacks, that’s more than enough.”
He laughs.
“Yeah, that’s what you think because you’re being lame. And limiting. And--”
“Leaving?”
It’s time, definitely. I’d forgotten how blinding Peter’s excitement and positivity can be without interference. Today has been full enough, I should end this now.
“That’s fair,” he says. “I think Ned rubbed off on me. All that obnoxious energy.”
He shakes his whole body as if ridding himself of said energy and I restrain myself from making a joke about his word choice. Instead, I nod and with an exasperated “Night, Peter,” and step back toward my room. He does the same, heading toward his. Just before he makes to use his keycard, he pivots back.
“Wait! I almost forgot.”
I turn around and he’s closer than before. Peter suddenly looks particularly nervous, his head angled to the side like a question, his hands fumbling over themselves. His cheeks are reddening again too, spreading from his cheeks to his hairline.
“Yeah?”
He steps forward to place himself directly in front of me. His eyes flit a quick path which his hands follow-- they reach out to touch my elbows before jumping up to my shoulders, settling there almost steadily before shooting a little higher to suddenly but gently hold my head. And then he leans over and firmly kisses my forehead. As he pulls away, one hand disappears and the other musses up my hair.
What is he--?
We both take a tiny step back. My pulse pounds as my thoughts blur into nothing but impressions of nonsensical, ridiculous questions my brain won’t dignify with clarity. Peter’s expression is halfway between an apology and.. a dare? His eyes are as wide as I know mine must be, but there’s something playing at his lips. For a second, it feels as though we’re balanced on a challenge neither of us is willing to answer.
The bubble of the moment pops as he shakes his head and gestures vaguely to his and Ned’s room, his floundering arm movements returning him to the strong appearance of embarrassment.
“May,” he blurts, “Aunt May threatened to, uh, um, well, that part’s not really important, if I didn’t pass that along with ‘all her love.’” The red in his face deepens. “Apparently she’s not too happy I didn’t do that last night too.”
Of course. It makes immediate sense. The memory rushes back. She told him to do that to all of us when she dropped us off at the bus that morning. I might laugh at my own stupid shock and poor memory but I can’t seem to manage it.
“Do you want me to get MJ too?” I ask, realizing May likely demanded that he make the rounds. Maybe this is what started that play fight between him and Ned tonight. Either Ned dodged it or made a joke about wishing May were there to do it herself.
It clicks together.
“What?” He looks lost, his head tilted to the side, brow knotted up. “What do you mean?”
“Unless, do you want me to pass it along from May?”
The realization hits across his face. He shakes his head rapidly.
“No, no, no, she’d probably kill me if I tried to do that to her. But, I mean, if you want to pass it along-- or just tell her to lie if May asks. She probably won’t, honestly, but, you know, just in case.”
His shrug and half smile are practically helpless. May ought to have more mercy on him. And me.
“Alright.” A grin breaks over my face in a way I don’t quite understand and can’t stop. “I’ll see you in the morning then.”
“Right. Goodnight, then. See you in the morning.”
“Night, Peter.”
Rather than stepping back, as intended though, I rush forward. Involuntarily, or at least I’ll pretend, since it’s just as surprising to me as it is to him, I lean forward and kiss his cheek. Or try to. It happens too quickly to register fully, but I’m almost positive I knick the corner of his mouth? That would definitely be unintentional.
“ThatwasforMay,” I explain, stumbling backward. Seeming to sense it, Peter grabs my arm to steady me before I trip outright. He releases his grip and stares, stunned.
If I thought his eyes were wide earlier, it turns out they can open much wider. His pupils are comically blown open.
“What?” he asks, seeming concerned. “What was that? I, uh, I didn’t catch what you said.”
“That was, um, that was for May. You know, in exchange.”
That’s perfect. For the first time in a while, my brain saves me.
His face, though still flushed red, relaxes.
“You’ll see her tomorrow,” he points out. “Like, we’ll all see her at the same time. It’d be kind of pointless to pass that on, wouldn’t it?”
Shit. My brain is useless.
“Then, uh… keep it?”
His facial muscles twitch as if he’s glitching between a smile and bewilderment. Then a flint of mischief.
“Unless,” he says slowly, “you want me to pass it along to Ned?”
“And it’s official,” I say, resisting the urge to smack him. “Goodnight!”
He grins as near as he ever gets to a smirk (a term I associate too closely to ass-hattery to assign to him) and I turn to my room as he repeats it back.
We both step to our doors and open them. I glance back just in time to see him practically jump into his room with a speed that reminds me he’s a superhero, even if he’s an idiot. Filled with tangled emotions, I pause, listening or waiting or catching my breath. I only need a moment.
Behind his and Ned’s door, there’s a sudden crash, a sound like leaping bedsprings and something smashing, immediately followed by Peter groaning and Ned’s mocking laughter. Right before I go to my own room, I hear Peter’s exasperated voice: Shit! Dude, can you help me fix it?
The room is dark when I slip back inside but the alarm clock shines enough red to see vague outlines of the walls and dressers and beds. Legs slightly numb, I stumble my way to the small bathroom to get ready for bed. It only takes a couple minutes, distracted as I am.
I slip into the blankets of my bed. The warm body heat next to me can only mean one thing: Michelle.
It’s just one of those unspoken things.
Next update: God only knows.
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I recently read Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn on recommendation from a friend. Finished it in about a day, and have had it stuck in my head ever since. Not because I liked it -- quite the opposite, in fact -- but after finishing the last pages of the epilogue and setting the book down never to be revisited again, I had to ask myself a question:
Is it possible to read a book incorrectly? And if so, did I?
Spoilers and musings beyond the cut. Fair warning, Sharp Objects is a fairly dark book that covers some pretty heavy issues including cutting and abuse. Consider yourself warned
To start out with, I’m not a huge fan of death of the author. I do think the reader of a text has to take the effort to try and figure out what the author is trying to tell them. Consideration should be made for the time and place the work was written, the prevailing culture, and so on and so forth. A historical romance written today isn’t going to ever replicate completely the style of Jane Austin because the authors are drawing from two completely different frames of reference. Culture changes. Languages changes. How we tell stories changes.
(Note: Not saying death of the author is inherently bad. It is just one of many systems of interpretation, and like every other system has its benefits and limitations. My hackles only raise when it becomes the only system of interpretation, as if it were intrinsically more valuable and valid than the rest /rant)
That being said, I think an author can be very subtle with the message they’re trying to send, or purposefully leave that message open to interpretation. And sometimes...sometimes sometimes the signals get crossed along the way, and the message that was intended never reaches the reader.
Which brings me to the point of this rambling mess of an analysis. I found Sharp Objects to be a dreary slog of a book. I knew it was dark going into the story, but there’s no levity inter-spaced between the overwhelming negativity to act as a reprieve between the elements of horror and tragedy. It has a very bleak opinion on the human condition in general and the small town the story takes place in particular. The ‘small town with a dark secret’ and the ‘family with a dark secret’ tropes are well-worn and familiar fodder for stories like these, but if I hadn’t read the author’s note at the end I would have thought that Flynn had never actually spent time in small-town America because it clashed so hard with my experience growing up in rural Iowa, the disconnect taking me out of the setting pretty early on.
I’m sure some people enjoy this kind of storytelling -- and apparently enough did that they turned it into an HBO mini series -- but it’s not my cup of tea. Maybe it’s my small-town roots showing, but I was almost offended by the picture Flynn painted of the fictional town of Wind Gap. I can handle darkness, but not page after page, after stinking page of unlikable, mean-spirited bickering and backbiting.
The mystery itself sparked enough curiosity to keep me engaged, but I’d pretty much figured out whodunit midway through the book on genre conventions alone. I figured about the fifth time someone remarked that the killer had to have been a man that it was probably going to be a woman, and was instantly suspicious that the main character’s sister’s illness was never named.
About the same time I more or less knew who the killers likely were, I began to wonder if I was reading the book wrong. I was struck by how well-written the prose was, with several vivid descriptions helping carry me along even if I didn’t particularly like what was being described. The main character, a middling journalist named Camille, starts the book as a former cutter and current alcoholic, and her mental state goes downhill from there. At one point she takes Ecstasy with her (I think?) thirteen year old half-sister (who, along with their mother, never felt like an actually character to me and more like a collection of bizarre traits and behaviors smooshed together in the semblance of a human being. Like I said, there’s never really any doubt who the killers are) and later on has sex with a barely eighteen year old boy who happens to be the prime murder suspect. She’s in such a messed up state that she thinks the best way to make up for this lapse of judgement is to try and give a blow job to the lead detective of the case while they’re sitting in the police station.
You know, as you do.
What made me think this way was the fact that the book’s written in the first person. I thought, if only for a moment, that perhaps we the reader was being led on by Camille’s own prejudice. It’s no secret that she hateed her hometown and the people she grew up with, and would rather leave her past behind than face the trauma she endured head on. No wonder she’s describing the sky before a rainstorm as the color of piss, or that she takes the time to mention a floating pube in the bath of a hotel on the way to Wind Gap. Of course all of her mother’s friend’s are equally as horrible as her mother, or that the girls she knew in high school would grow up to be just as shallow and vain. It made sense that she would describe the siblings of one of the victims as a fat, tantrum throwing girl and another as a dullard of a boy who would never amount to anything. A stubbornly pessimistic, barely functioning, disaster of a human being would see the negative in everything everywhere she went.
All at once everything clicked into place, and I felt like the author and I were on the same wavelength. By the time I got three-quarters of the way through the book I could see it going one of two ways: 1) Camille would somehow be proven wrong about her assumptions and prejudices, which would in turn kick start some character development or 2) Camille would be right, and Wind Gap would be proven to be just as horrible as she already thought it was. I figured if that second option was taken it was likely for the story to have a somber, even tragic ending, as the weight of all these terrible secrets and pain broke our lead character completely.
That’s...not what happened, and in strange display of pacing the true killer is only revealed during the epilogue (side note, I thought the reveal of where all the teeth were hidden was one of the best twists in the whole story). To be honest, it felt like the author tried to cram an entire sequel into the last 10 pages of the story, but long story short, Mama killed Camille’s sister during their childhood, but it was Baby Half Sister who did the present-day murders. After this stunning turn of events, Camille finds a knife and gives into the temptation she’d been fighting for the whole damn book, mutilating the one bit of unmarred skin she has left and the implication that she would have killed herself had someone not stopped her in time.
Ah, I thought to myself, tragedy it is. Not my favorite, but I could see how the author got from Point A to Point B and you could take a somber message about how the effect the environment a person is raised in affects them for the rest of their lives.
If the book ended there I would have been fine with it. I still wouldn’t have liked it, but it would have made perfect sense. Instead we get this last little bit to tie all the loose ends neatly in a bow. Note this ending comes immediately after the relapse into self-mutilation, which itself burst onto the scene with very little warning and was over after one paragraph:
Curry and Eileen packed my things and took me into their home, where I have a bed and some space in what was once a basement rec room. All sharp objects have been locked up, but I haven’t tried too hard to get at them,
I am learning to be cared for. I am learning to be parented. I’ve returned to my childhood, the scene of the crime. Eileen and Curry wake me in the mornings and put me to bed with kisses (or in Curry’s case, a gentle chuck under the chin). I drink nothing stronger than the grap soda Curry favors. Eileen runs my bath and sometimes brushes my hair. It doesn’t give me chills, and we consider this a good sign.
It is almost May 12, one year exactly from my return to Wind Gap. The date also happens to be Mother’s Day this year. Clever. Sometimes I think about that night caring for Amma, and how good I was at soothing her and calming her. I have dreams of washing Amma and drying her brow. I wake with my stomach turning and a sweaty upper lip. Was I good at caring for Amma because of kindness? Or did I like caring for Amma because I have Adora’s sickness? I waver between the two, especially at night, when my skin begins to pulse.
Lately, I’ve been leaning toward kindness.
When I read that last sentence, the gears in head ground to an abrupt halt, and I immediately disconnected entirely from the story. Camille had spent the majority of this book being anything but kind. The only instance I can see that might fit into this characterization is an off-hand reference in the first chapter that her boss (the Curry mentioned here) thinks she’s too soft in her writing.
I don’t know why these last paragraphs exist in this story. For all I know, the author couldn’t think of a way to finish the book and defaulted to a last-minute happy-ish ending. It is, after all, her debut novel. Hell, maybe it had been added at the insistence of her editor, or some other outside influence.
Or maybe I’m just missing something.
Death of the author demands that I, the reader, create my own meaning, but I simply can’t. Neither of the two readings I saw the potential for are supported by the text, and I find myself wandering back again and again to the matter of authorial intent. But for the life of me, I can’t figure out what the author’s trying to say. Either the story is too bleak to justify this...if not redemption, then healing for the main character, or the ending is too positive for the harsh and terrible world the author has gone through such pains to describe. You can’t have your cake and eat it too.
There is a third option: That even though the world is just as terrible and awful as you thought it was, recovery is still possible. It seems to be what that last page implies, but this is the weakest reading of all, if only because it doesn’t have time to develop. Three paragraphs does not a character arc make, and Camille spent too much time moping around being miserable to even consider the possibility of closure.
I think this might have been what the author was going for. It fits well with the metanarriative of the mystery itself. But if so, it’s a message poorly communicated, and even now I’m not sure what I’m supposed to take from the book.
Again, on a technical level it’s very well-written, and undoubtedly I’m putting too much thought into what’s otherwise a generic murder mystery. But I also think it’s important for the author’s voice to be heard in their work, even if that message gets a little muddled along the way.
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MCU Rewatch: Iron Man 2
Man, this is a wildly inconsistent movie. For every element that really holds up, there’s another which is just unforgivably terrible.
For instance, Stark being effectively suicidal is handled, honestly, insanely well. Both the writing and RDJ’s performance make it immediately obvious from the get-go that something is wrong; the flashiness and extravagance of the Expo and his entrance and his behavior all sort of follow from the character we saw in the first movie, but even given that history it all feels a little too much, to the point where finally learning about the palladium poisoning actually feels like a payoff in addition to a setup. The way this carries through the rest of the film also feels authentic to the character of someone who has literally been so surrounded by wealth and fame his entire life that he doesn’t know how to engage with other people on a level deeper than giving them Things. We get, in other words, a character who’s a mixture of self-destructive and self-sacrificing without ever really giving up his deep, fundamental narcissism.
Iron Man 2 gets as far as breaking him out of the self-destructive spiral, but leaves the final resolution of the narcissism for the sequel (a task at which, despite a good effort all around, it resoundingly fails). The way it approaches this is by repeatedly hammering home the message that Stark is not a goddamn island: not only does he meet someone out there right now every bit as smart as he is, but it’s shoved down his throat that he only got where he is by standing on some pretty hefty shoulders.
The problem with this is twofold. First, because everything needs to be connected, the only Other People worthy of his attention happen to be his dad, the guy his dad worked with, and that guy’s son. So we’ve only reached the level of “there are a few Real People in the world, but if they’re not connected to me they’re still probably not that important.”
Second, and way more problematically, the whole plotline with the “new element” is the Single. Fucking. Stupidest. Thing. in the entire goddamn MCU. Like, I have no problem with technobabble, but everything about the concept of a “hidden element” whose “structure” can be reconstructed from a 2-dimensional diagram is not just nonsense but an active violation of the basic physical structure of the goddamn universe. It’s literally on the level of The Matrix’s “human batteries,” where (as SMG has observed) either the second law of thermodynamics does not apply in the world of the films, or Morpheus has misunderstood (or is misrepresenting) what the robots are doing. In Iron Man 2, we’re faced with either the film’s world being one where what atoms are is fundamentally different from our own, or every single person involved in the “discovery” choosing to call it the wrong thing for some reason. And what reason could that even be? What possible motivation could Tony and Jarvis, alone together in the lab, have for referring to this substance they’ve created by the wrong name? I don’t even care about the effectively magical properties this “element” has, I’m just so intensely bothered by the label. I remember thinking how stupid this all was when I first watched the movie way back when, and it is still every bit as stupid today. It’s so stupid it actually completely breaks suspension of disbelief, and I honestly don’t see any “artistic” reason that fits with the film’s themes for it to do so on purpose.
Okay, enough nerd rage. The other worst thing about this film is bad on a narrative level rather than a technical one, and that is the giant sucking void named Justin Hammer. No criticism here of Sam Rockwell, who ekes out every bit of personality he can, but Hammer is as close to a pure modern translation of the simpering, blustery, impotent factotum trope as I hope we ever see. Like, I get that he’s meant to be a foil to Stark, as a capitalist who focuses on incremental improvements over true innovation, but holy shit he is given just zero redeeming qualities. In a movie whose hero and villain are both deeply human, Hammer is nothing but a goddamn stooge (he doesn’t actually mince, as such, but they sure as shit call attention to how short he is). It’s like, I get that he’s there to be a contrast to both Stark and Vanko, but it honestly bothered me as I was watching how consistently the film just shit all over him (his weapons don’t even work. Was that really necessary?).
Speaking of Ivan Vanko, though, Mickey Rourke is if anything more impressive now that we’ve had nine years of shittastic villains to compare him to. What I found especially interesting is, again, a split down the middle of his character. On the textual level, he has not just a clear but a deeply sympathetic motivation for everything he does; SMG was not wrong to refer to him as “Justice Man.” In a universe that has since filled to capacity with dudes going, “I wanna destroy the world/the universe/all life/half of all life because I’m EVIL!!!” Vanko’s quest to break one shithead narcissist out of his comfortable illusions is genuinely compelling. Watching Rourke’s performance, however, I was struck by how clear it is that, for all his obvious motivation, Vanko doesn’t actually, personally, care about any of it. It’s a neat mirror to Stark’s blaze-of-shitty-glory self-destructiveness: Vanko is also working under the impression that his life is effectively over (e.g. he clearly was not expecting to get away from his attack in Monaco), but responds with basically a zen-like acceptance.
Actually, this almost-connection to Buddhism, for all that his fatalism is archetypically Russian, does kind of run through more of the film. He has zero regard for possessions, or even physical Things at all (cf. the scene where, upon first seeing Hammer’s drones, the first thing he does is wrench off one of their heads), but a deep regard for and connection with animal life. The two times when he attacks Stark directly, he avoids killing any bystanders (as far as we are shown, and hoo boy is onscreen civilian death vs the lack thereof a BIG RUNNING THEME throughout the MCU). However, when the final battle takes place in a goddamn artificial forest (sponsored by Oracle) in the middle of a dome in the middle of fucking Queens, he has zero compunction about blowing it to fucking pieces. Even there, though, he’s almost creepily calm through the whole thing; where Hammer impotently rages and showboats, Vanko is like a cross between the implacable Eumenides and Buddha.
...and we all know what you’re supposed to do if you meet the Buddha in the road.
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Week 7 Activity: Reading Log #2
Reading Log #2
Traditional Tale
Scieszka, John. (1989). The True Story of the 3 Little Pigs! Viking Children’s Books.
Summary: In this “fractured fairy tale”, the traditional story of The Three Little Pigs is told from the perspective of the wolf. As “Alexander T. Wolf” tells what he refers to as “his side” of the story, he is insistent that he is not so big and bad as we might believe, and that the events of the original Three Little Pigs story are all one big misunderstanding. For example, he only visited the pigs’ houses to borrow sugar for his grandmother’s birthday cake, and ended up blowing down the pigs houses by accident due to his sneezing cold. The wolf ends the story locked up in prison, though he still claims that he was framed for everything.
Personal Comments: Because this book is a “fractured fairy tale”, it gives a fresh, somewhat modern twist on a traditional story. This puts it in a unique position in terms of evaluation: some of the criteria for evaluating traditional tales applies to it, while some does not seem to fit. One quote from the Vardell text stood out to me while evaluating this book: “The reteller’s style in capturing a traditional tale is partly based on one individual’s unique voice and partly based on the need for capturing the sound of spoken language in print” (97). While reading this book, I kept thinking that it seemed perfect for a read-aloud event, as the Wolf (also the story’s narrator) tells the story with plenty of personality and humor. Vardell also states that “The themes in traditional tales are big, global messages with a clear stance on the importance of good triumphing over evil” (97). This is one of the evaluation criteria points which I feel this book diverges from, as “good” and “evil” aren’t so clearly defined in this version of the story. The “big bad” wolf is seen as more sympathetic, while the pigs (who are traditionally known as the “good” characters) are unfairly rude and judgmental to the wolf.
Library Use: I think this would be a great book to read to children directly after reading them the original Three Little Pigs story, then have them compare and contrast the two perspectives of the story’s events. The original story has very set-in-stone “good and evil” roles, while this version makes things more ambiguous. Therefore, hearing children’s thoughts on the wolf’s character would be interesting.
Poetry
Latham, Irene & Waters, Charles. (2018). Can I Touch Your Hair? Poems of Race, Mistakes, and Friendship. Carolrhoda Books.
Summary: In this collection of poems, fictional elementary school versions of poets Irene Latham and Charles Waters are paired up for a poetry assignment. Irene is white, and Charles is black. The assignment has them writing poetry about their everyday experiences, which ends up highlighting their differences in an honest way. However, the assignment also shows them that they have more in common than they might have originally expected.
Personal Comments: One of the first things I noticed while reading this book is how the poems by Irene are structured quite differently than the poems by Charles. One question Vardell asks in regards to rhythm is “does the poet use short lines to create a staccato rhythm or long couplets to create a flow?” (130). Irene’s poems have short, staccato lines, while Charles’ poems have long, flowing lines. The fact that the two poets/characters poems always appear side by side on each set of pages does even more to highlight the differences between the two of them. Vardell also brings up the emotions involved in poetry: “poems also have an emotional impact, making us laugh or sigh or feel what the poet might have felt capturing this moment” (31). The poems in this book contain plenty of complex, sometimes uncomfortable emotions, but do so in what I feel is a realistic way that doesn’t feel forced. One point where this stood out to me was a poem where Charles discusses witnessing police brutality in the news, and feeling conflicting emotions as he recalls a time where a cop helped him untangle his shoelaces from a chain-link fence. The final line of this poem reads “it makes my heart twist, without any hope of being disentangled.”
Library Use: This book could be a great tool to start an honest discussion with children about race, as it goes beyond the typical “we’re all the same inside” message and really highlights the differences in growing up white vs. growing up black. I might ask children which poems they found relatable and which ones they did not, and if the ones they did not relate to taught them anything new.
Realistic Fiction
Rhodes, Jewell Parker. (2020). Black Brother, Black Brother. Orion Children’s Books.
Summary: This book tells the story of Donte, seventh-grader who is one of the only black boys at the upper-class prep school he attends. Donte’s older brother, Trey, presents as white. Because of this, he has a much easier time fitting in at school than Donte, who is constantly subjected to racist bullying by his classmates and discrimination by his teachers and the school’s faculty. Donte’s main bully, Alan, causes Donte to be suspended from school at the start of the book. Alan is the star of the school’s fencing team, so Donte decides to get back at him by beating him at his own game. He begins to learn how to fence and is coached by a former olympic fencer who now works at the Boys and Girls Club (and has also faced his share of racial discrimination). Through fencing and his new friendship with his coach, Donte is able to learn more about himself and grow as a person. Eventually, he faces off in a fencing match against Alan and wins.
Personal Comments: Vardell states that in realistic fiction, “we’re looking for a story that feels current, that could happen today in the world as we know it” (169). The start of this story sees Donte being suspended from school and taken into police custody over something he didn’t do, as a result of racial discrimination from his school’s faculty. Unfortunately, this is something that can and absolutely does happen today in the world - and it’s important for young readers to be aware of it. Vardell also notes that “the climax and conclusion of the story are also critical and should seem inevitable, but not obvious; hopeful, if not always happy” (170). While the story does end on a happy note, with Donte winning against Alan during the fencing championships, there are still aspects of the plot that are left open-ended. Donte’s mom’s court case against the school system is still ongoing, and not all of Donte’s issues at school have been completely resolved. The book ends with Donte taking part in a “heritage sit-in” at school, with the last line simply reading “One small step.” This sets a hopeful tone, despite the loose ends still present.
Library Use: This book explores a lot of interesting topics that would be worth discussing in a book group - probably for grades 5-7. Donte’s experience of being unfairly suspended and taken out of school by the police is something that unfortunately happens to young black students often in real life. Raising children's awareness on these issues by bringing up real-life news stories which describe cases similar to Donte’s is one way this book could be put into action. Another idea that could be inspiring for children is to invite a black fencer to come speak about the sport and their experiences in it.
Diverse Book
Gino, Alex. (2015). George. Scholastic.
Summary: The story’s main character, George, is a transgender girl who calls herself Melissa. At the start of the story, Melissa keeps her gender identity a secret from her family and friends, and even has a hidden stash of fashion magazines in her room. When Melissa’s class puts on the play Charlotte’s Web, Melissa decides she wants to play the role of Charlotte in order to show the world who she really is. However, the role ends up going to Melissa’s friend, Kelly. After having a negative experience with coming out to her mom, Melissa works out a plan to swap roles with Kelly in the play. Melissa ends up successfully performing the role of Charlotte, and after seeing the performance her mom seems to understand her a bit better.
Personal Comments:
In the School Library Journal article “Can Diverse Books Save Us?”, school librarian Nancy Snow states that “we can help develop empathy if we read books about others and try to put ourselves in their shoes.” In this book, young readers get to see the world through Melissa’s eyes and experience some of her struggles of growing up transgender - including not being understood and accepted by classmates, teachers, and even her mom. Reading this book can help those who aren’t transgender understand and emphasize with those who are. It also has the potential to help young readers who are transgender feel seen or even better understand themselves. George is a contemporary realistic fiction novel, and Vardell states that “Most contemporary realistic novels for young people focus on the search for an independent identity, the desire for an understanding of one’s role within families, friendships, blossoming romances, and other landmarks of growing up into adulthood” (171). This fits the plot of the story well, as it entirely revolves around Melissa forming and becoming more comfortable and confident in her own identity.
Library Use: This would be a great book to feature during pride month as it gives young readers the opportunity to get a glimpse of what life is like for a transgender child. A way to highlight this book might be to invite a transgender activist/speaker to come speak about the book and also share some of their own experiences.
Challenged Book
Telgemeier, Raina. (2012). Drama. Scholastic.
Summary: This graphic novel follows seventh-grader Callie, who is in the stage crew of her school’s musical. Callie is a bit boy-crazy and tends to fall for anyone who is nice to her, which leads to her developing a crush on Jesse, a boy who is in the stage crew with her. Callie is also friends with Jesse’s twin brother, Justin, who confesses to her at lunch one day that he is gay. After two successful performances of the school musical, the final performance faces a setback when the musical’s lead actress refuses to perform after being broken up with by West, the other lead. Jesse rushes in at the last minute to replace her, even wearing a dress and kissing West as part of the performance. Jesse later goes to the school dance with Callie, but ends up ditching her to talk to West. When Callie confronts him about it, he confides that he is gay, but thanks her for being a good friend to him.
Personal Comments: According to the ALA, Drama was the seventh most banned or challenged book of the 2010s due to its LGBTQ content. Drama serves as a great contemporary realistic fiction story because much like in Raina’s autobiographical series, its plot weaves together more familiar issues that all young readers will find relatable with issues that are less common but still likely prevalent in many young readers lives, in this case discovering and accepting one’s sexuality. As Vardell states, “This expanding range of life experiences is part of our global society in the twenty-first century” (152). The themes in Drama are well-presented in the way that they “emerge naturally from the story, from the conflicts in the plot, and from the nature of the characters” (Vardell, 171).
Library Use: This would be another great title to highlight during pride month, considering there are three different LGBTQ characters in the story. Though the characters in this story are middle schoolers, I would probably want to discuss it with fourth or fifth-graders - according to Vardell, children “typically enjoy reading about protagonists who are a year or two older than they are, ostensibly giving them a glimpse of the growing up years ahead” (150).
Historical Fiction
Kushman, Karen. (1996). The Midwife’s Apprentice. Houghton Mifflin.
Summary: This story takes place in medieval Europe and follows a young homeless and nameless orphan girl. When the local midwife offers the girl food in exchange for work, she becomes the midwife’s apprentice. Though the midwife, Jane, is not very kind to the young girl, she works hard to learn all she can from her. Eventually, the girl ends up naming herself Alyce. Over time, Alyce becomes so skilled at midwifery that she is able to deliver babies on her own, but temporarily gives up on it after one particularly difficult experience with a delivery. However, Alyce comes to realize that she is truly passionate about being a midwife and feels that it has given her life purpose, and in the end she goes back to work for Jane.
Personal Comments: According to the Vardell text, an important aspect of historical fiction is accuracy and validity within the story’s plot. “Historical validity rests in accurately recreating the social fabric of the times and the patterns of daily life” (205). The Midwife’s Apprentice is very honest, sometimes brutally so, about what life was like for the poor during medieval times. Alyce starts the story without anything in the world: not a family, a home, or even a name - displaying the harsh reality of the lives of homeless orphaned children. It also goes into quite a bit of detail about childbirth (more than I was expecting from a children’s book, at least) and how dangerous it could be before the existence of modern medicine. Vardell also notes that in historical fiction, “Universal themes that still speak to readers of today carry as much weight as ever” (207). Though readers may not be able to relate to Alyce’s exact situation, they will still appreciate her experience of trying, failing, then trying again. One of the main themes of this story is resilience - a value which is important for young readers to witness in a character.
Library Use: This story goes into great detail about what midwifery and childbirth was like during medieval times, but things have definitely changed over the years. I think it could be interesting and educational to bring in an actual midwife who could do a presentation comparing and contrasting the book’s description of the profession during medieval times to what the profession is actually like today.
Audiobook
Parish, Peggy. (1963). Amelia Bedelia. Greenwillow Books. Narrated by Suzanne Toren.
Summary: On her first day as a maid for the Rogers family, Amelia Bedelia performs the chores on the list that was left for her. However, she ends up taking the instructions a bit too literally and as a result does not do any of the chores correctly. For example, when told to “dust the furniture” she sprinkles dusting powder on everything. When the Rogers family gets home, they find their house a complete disaster. They are about to fire Amelia, until they try the lemon meringue pie she baked for them. The pie tastes so good that they decide to keep Amelia as a maid despite everything she has done wrong.
Personal Comments: I chose this audiobook because I was curious about what the approach to it would be. As someone who is familiar with the print version of the book, I know that a lot of the humor comes from the pictures, as they tend to tell parts of the story that the text does not. I learned pretty quickly that the purpose of this audiobook is to help children as they read along to the print version of the book, rather than something to be listened to on its own. At the start of the audiobook before the story begins, the narrator instructs readers to “follow along in their book.” Considering that Amelia Bedelia is a beginning readers book, this kind of format makes sense. This audiobook was well-produced and met most of the Odyssey guidelines, such as the narrator having “good voice quality, diction, and timing.” The entire narration contained light, upbeat background music, which “represents the emotional and structural content of the text.”
Library Use: Amelia Bedelia is a beginning readers book, and this audiobook seems like it is meant to help children follow along as they read (rather than be listened to on its own). Despite this, it could still be a very useful tool if the library was to run a book group for children who are learning to read independently.
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Kevin Can F**K Himself Shows Why The Laugh Track Needs to Die
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The title card for the new AMC series Kevin Can F**K Himself isn’t accompanied by a jaunty tune or a wild sound effect. When the title appears on the screen, it’s soundtracked by a smattering of aggressive laughter. Creeping up below the laughter is a distressing screeching noise, meant to indicate the rapidly fraying sanity of our heroine.
So it’s quite fitting that Kevin Can F**K Himself makes a compelling case for why laugh tracks (or canned laughter) need to die a quick death. The series centers on Allison McRoberts (Annie Murphy), a woman trapped in a marriage to the titular Kevin. Kevin is an infuriating man-child. He throws keg parties on his wedding anniversary, spends obscene amounts of money on sports memorabilia, and treats Allison like an accessory. He is emotionally abusive, often making Allison feel worthless by telling her things like she’s a bad driver or that she never finishes things so that he can keep her all to himself.
Approximately a third of the series takes place in lala sitcom land in which the lighting is abundant, the set is clearly facing an audience, and Kevin is always there, chewing up the scenery like Pac Man chowing down on glowing dots. However, whenever Kevin exits, Allison finds herself in a more contemplative and complex (aka: single-camera) existence. The trouble is she doesn’t have much of an identity anymore because her entire life has hinged on being Kevin’s long-suffering wife. The juxtaposition of the sitcom world against a more realistic setting serves to illustrate just how jarring and unnecessary canned laughter is to a TV show. When we watch dramas, we don’t hear people bawling over the sad parts or gasping during the shocking moments. Nope. So why do laugh tracks persist?
As an early millennial, I grew up in a world in which laugh tracks were the norm. From “Must See TV” on NBC in the ‘90s to the vintage sitcoms on Nick at Nite, comedy was always served up with a heaping side of giggles and guffaws. Historically, the sitcom cadence did rely on a call-and response reaction as they actually were often filmed in front of a live studio audience, but it was rare that the responses that made it to the final episode were genuine and uncut.
To be clear, when I’m referring to canned laughter here, I’m not just referring to the prerecorded kind. Sure, that might be the official definition, but even the laughter we hear from live studio audiences is goosed in some way prior to airtime. The practice of “sweetening” the laugh track, or adding in favorable reactions to amplify certain jokes has been in practice for decades, and it’s still in use today. While the creators of a show might be able to proudly say that the reactions came from an actual audience, the reactions are almost always tweaked in post-production in order to punch up the jokes that the creators or network want to land. Therefore, the laugh track on all of your favorite sitcoms is a lie.
An argument could potentially be made that the practice of adding in a laugh track might make people feel a sense of camaraderie or community with others watching. And this is somewhat true. In a 2011 article on laugh tracks, NBC News noted a 1974 psychological study in which it was found that people laughed more frequently if they heard canned laughter following a joke. These types of social cues can make individuals feel comfortable, but they can also promote conformity. Looking back on the history of sitcoms, it sure seems as if laugh tracks have been complicit in keeping misogynistic and racist messaging at the forefront of comedy.
Kevin Can F**K Himself plays with this idea in every frame of its sitcom world. Nothing is actually very funny within the brightly lit walls of the McRoberts’s house. As previously established, Kevin is simply awful. He’s a huge loser. Yours truly wanted to throttle him, Homer Simpson style, during every scene he was in. Yet, since the sitcom land dictates that Kevin is a damn delight, the audience plays along.
(It’s worth noting here that Kevin Can F**K Himself was filmed in front of a studio audience. However AMC tells us that, due to COVID restrictions, the audience was small and far away, so the laughs were not picked up on the audio. Therefore, much of the laughter you hear on the show was added in post-production.)
The dynamic between Kevin, Allison, and the viewers in the studio is an exaggerated version of a tableau that has been unfolding on our TV screens for decades. We see a harried, hot wife play a straight man to a dumpy doofus husband, and we’re all supposed to think it’s simply hilarious. It’s worth noting that Kevin Can F**K HImself cribs its title from the Kevin James’ sitcom Kevin Can Wait, in which the series unceremoniously killed off James’s first super hot wife on the show (Erinn Hayes), only to replace her with his prior super hot sitcom wife, Leah Remini. Because women are oh so very interchangeable in the sitcom world, the laugh track on that show never skipped a beat.
Canned laughter has historically enabled the entertainment world to lift up mediocre men such as Doug Heffernan (Kevin James), Raymond Barone (Ray Romano), and Kevin Gable (Kevin James, again) at the women’s expense. For ages, only a very small handful of white males were allowed to create content as showrunners, directors, and writers at networks. As they had control over the laugh track, they became the arbiters of what was funny and what was not funny. They got to shape reactions according to their worldview, painting the schlumpy dudes as heroes and the women as eager sidekicks.
While there are oodles of examples of the long-suffering wife throughout sitcom history, we rarely think of these women as victims. All in the Family is considered a classic, but Archie Bunker was viciously verbally abusive to his wife Edith in almost every episode. Sure, it was a different era (and Archie surely isn’t intended to be a role model), but take away the laughs, and what’s left is a depressing portrait of a red-faced husband straight up screaming at his beleaguered wife. And don’t even get me started on The Honeymooners classic line, “to the moon, Alice!” Ahahahaha, yes, spousal abuse. Hilarious. Well, the laugh track thought so, anyway.
In more recent years, verbal abuse on sitcoms focusing on husband-wife dyads has given way to a more subtle form of emotional abuse. Often, this appears in the form of financial abuse in which a spouse spends or hides money from the other in order to keep them in their place. In Kevin Can F**K Himself, Kevin consistently spends money without consulting Allison first. In one episode, he even proudly states that a recent purchase cost “more than our wedding, but less than our car.”
This type of abuse has played out in sitcoms forever. Doug Heffernan often hid his spending from Carrie, Raymond Barone invested in a go-cart venture without telling Deborah, and even Fred Flintstone stole money from Wilma’s hidden stash (yep, The Flintstones was a cartoon, but it inexplicably also had a laugh track). These transgressions are generally perceived to be harmless on screen, leading to those canned laffs and a resolution in 30 minutes or less, but in real life, this type of clandestine behavior in relation to finances can be catastrophic, trapping an unhappy wife in a relationship with no means to escape.
Even TV series that didn’t utilize the wife/husband premise – notably Frasier and Friends – often used audience laughter to support misogynistic punchlines. Friends notoriously used the laugh track to support harmful jokes about fat shaming and transphobia while Frasier’s archaic attitudes towards women were often played for comedy. Personally, I will never ever get over how Frasier Crane treated Roz Doyle, slut shaming her at every turn for over a decade when, in fact, Frasier was sleeping with half of Seattle with nary an eyebrow raise in his snooty direction. (Sorry, rant over. But, seriously, Peri Gilpin rules. #JusticeForRoz)
Laugh tracks help normalize these behaviors. If you’re not laughing at the joke when everyone else is, something must be wrong with you. Women have faced this exact dilemma since the beginning of time. Laugh along or be judged as cold and unfeeling. Be in on the joke or be tossed to the side. This truism is even noted in the recent HBO Max series Hacks in which aging comic Deborah Vance (Jean Smart) confesses to a newbie comedienne why she makes fun of herself in her own act. With a wan smile, Deborah says, “I realized they would rather laugh at me than believe me.”
These are the same exact challenges that Allison finds herself facing in Kevin Can F**K Himself. When Kevin is around, Allison tries her best to play the role she’s been given so that he won’t make her life even more miserable. No one believes or cares that Kevin is awful because they think Allison is lucky to even have landed a man at all. The series overtly illustrates that these types of stories have always just shrugged at viewers, telling us, oh well, boys will be boys, while women’s suffering is shoehorned into punchlines instead of taken seriously. Rather than confronting the thorny reality of disentangling the institutions that lift the Kevins up and keep the Allisons down, the sitcom world treats women’s pain like a joke.
After years and years under Kevin’s oppressive thumb, Allison isn’t laughing anymore. She’s full of rage and ready to break free. When we see her in her life without Kevin, there are no prescriptive beats dictating what’s funny and what’s not. And it’s so refreshing. Life can be funny! Sometimes Allison is funny in her real life too! Annie Murphy is also very very funny! And yet, even in the absence of a laugh track, viewers can pick up on the funny. Because in this modern age of entertainment, viewers are savvy enough to know what they feel.
As canned laughter has slowly disappeared, TV has opened up to more nuanced emotion, allowing viewers to discover and explore the highs and lows for themselves. It’s probably not surprising to learn that the few existing series that do still use laugh tracks, such as United States of Al and Bob Hearts Abishola – both airing on CBS and both created by Chuck Lorre – have been critiqued for leaning on racist and sexist stereotypes. Oddly enough, an urban myth has been circulating the internet for years, claiming that everyone on laugh tracks is actually dead because the recordings were made so long ago. As modern audio engineers now update their recordings regularly, this is not true, but the truth is that the laugh track itself is soon headed to an unmarked grave in the entertainment cemetery alongside tube televisions, Smell-O-Vision, and home video rentals.
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With critically acclaimed comedies such as Schitt’s Creek (also starring Annie Murphy!), Fleabag, and The Good Place getting laughs without any pre-recorded assistance, home audiences are getting more savvy as to what’s actually funny and what’s just a cheap shot. In addition, social media and the ubiquitous sharing of memes have effectively displaced the laugh track, as people can now actually be part of an interactive community with others, watching and reacting to the same show at the same time.
In Kevin Can F**K Himself, canned laughter has finally taken its rightful place as a relic of the past. The chuckles and chortles that pepper the series are a knowing nod to a bygone era in which TV series tried to force the funny on viewers instead of letting them find their own way. Finally, laugh tracks aren’t in on the joke; they are the joke.
Kevin Can F**k Himself airs Sundays at 9 p.m. ET on AMC.
The post Kevin Can F**K Himself Shows Why The Laugh Track Needs to Die appeared first on Den of Geek.
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Disney: adjectives galore spring to mind when we hear this famous name: sweet, adventurous, wholesome, nostalgic, magical. But what some Disney fans may not know is that many Disney shorts and feature-length films were inspired by fairytales, plays, religious texts, and other literary sources. It seems that Walt Disney did a lot of reading in his day and knew that these tales would make for some of the most adored, classic movies for audiences old and young.
RELATED: Disney: Ranking The 15 Greatest Female Villains
And he wasn't wrong. These text-turned-flicks have motivated artists for decades to create not just movies, but fan art, fashion, and more.
10 The Princess And The Frog
Disney's The Princess and the Frog (2009) follows Tiana (Anika Noni Rose), a worked-to-the-bone waitress and aspiring restaurant owner in 1950's Louisiana. She kisses a price-turned-frog, Naveen (Bruno Campos), and becomes one herself. They both journey across time, swamps, and streets in a race to turn themselves back to humans -- or remain amphibians forever.
In contrast, "The Frog-Prince" or "Iron Henry," from which Disney drew inspiration, is a german fairy tale from 1812. The prince-turned-frog under a witch's curse finds the princess when she throws a golden ball into the lake he occupies, exchanging the ball for her friendship, who then reverts back to a handsome prince. Iron Henry is the Prince's loyal servant, who, upon hearing of his Prince's transformation, encased his heart in iron bands so it wouldn't break and fall apart from sadness. When he learns of the Prince's change back to royalty, it breaks -- but from happiness.
9 The Little Mermaid
The movie that inspired spin-offs, sequels, cosplay, and more: Disney's The Little Mermaid (1989) follows the story of Ariel (Jodi Benson) as she embarks on a quest to save her soul, literally, after making a deal with the sea witch, Ursula (Pat Carroll), to give her her perfect singing voice in exchange for becoming human. Of course, the spell can only be broken by true love's kiss, and in the end, it is, with viewers seeing a happy sea wedding between Ariel and Prince Eric (Christopher Daniel Barnes).
This flick takes its cues from both a play and a fairy tale. Unsatisfied with life, despite being incredibly successful, Faust makes a deal with the devil to give him his soul in exchange for all the knowledge and pleasures of the world. Ariel does the same but compromises her voice for love. Additionally, Hans Christian Andersen's fairy tale of the same name is essentially the same story, but with some darker elements, including murder, heartbreak and betrayal.
8 The Lion King
Arguably the most famous, beloved Disney film of all time, The Lion King (1992) is a tour-de-force with a literary backdrop. Fans of Shakespeare will recognize the references to The Bard's classic tragic play, Hamlet, which is the tale of a young Denmarkian prince who avenges his father's death at the hands of his uncle.
RELATED: Disney: 5 Characters That Were Potentially Bad Influences (& 5 That Were Great Role Models)
Further, the pinnacle scene where Simba sees Mufasa in the nighttime sky in the form of clouds over the Serengeti -- his father, Mufasa -- harkens back to when Hamlet sees his own ghostly apparition of his father but also references Moses in the Christian bible as he stands before God when he appears in the burning bush. Finally, the entire journey mimics Joseph Campbell's story, The Heroes Journey (as many, many other films do), which follows the arc of the hero on his journey from beginning to end.
7 The Hunchback Of Notre Dame
The 1996 Disney film, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, also has literary roots. Based on the gothic novel from 1831 by French author Victor Hugo, the book unfolds much the same way the film does, although some plotlines have been changed to suit child audiences and parents.
For instance, in the book, Esmerelda dies and Quasimodo, decades later, is found lying beside her in the mass grave into which she was thrown in with criminals and the poor.
6 The Great Mouse Detective
Perhaps one of the most underrated Disney movies in the ether, The Great Mouse Detective (1986) is a story of a mouse detective named Basil (of Baker Street), his sidekick Watson, and the adventure they go on to rescue a young mouse girl's kidnapped father from the notorious Professor Ratigan.
This Disney gem was based on the exploits of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and his for-hire detective skills that focused on London's despondent and downtrodden, as well as the wealthy elite.
5 Snow White
1937's Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs is about a young, fair maiden, cast aside into the dangerous, dark, and deep forest by her wicked stepmother for being more beautiful than her. When a huntsman is ordered to kill her, he spares Snow White's life and she takes up residence in a small cottage with seven mining dwarfs.
RELATED: Disney: 10 Movies With Surprisingly Adult Messages
The fairy tale of the same name from the Brothers Grimm unfurls much the same, only with more murderous plots-for-hire and red-hot iron slippers.
4 Sleeping Beauty
Disney's Sleeping Beauty from 1959 is one of the most famous peasant-turned-princess stories. Naturally, Disney took its cues from the Brothers Grimm, once again, in their fairy tale titled "Little Brier-Rose."
Absent are the three tiny fairy godmothers who look after the princess in the film version, but otherwise, much is the same, complete with a Maleficent-type villain and true love's kiss breaking the cursed spell.
3 Rapunzel
Disney's Tangled (2010) is based on the Brothers Grimm fairy tale, Rapunzel. It unravels in much the same way that the film does, but with some differences: Rapunzel, in the fairy tale, is a sort of lettuce leaf her mother craves during pregnancy, and the king steals it from the sorceress' garden in which it grows.
The prince also becomes blinded at one point, unlike in the movie, but has his sight restored and, like the film, he and Rapunzel live happily ever after.
2 Oliver And Company
Another underrated Disney flick, Oliver & Company (1988) features the story of a lost and abandoned tabby kitten named Oliver (Joey Lawrence), who joins a rough-and-tumble gang of dogs in New York City (their leader being Dodger, played by Billy Joel).
RELATED: 10 Strange Movies Disney Almost Made
This hidden treasure is based on Charles Dickens's novel Oliver Twist or The Parish Boy's Progress, published in London in 1838. The prose follows orphan Oliver Twist, who was born in a workhouse and became an apprentice for an undertaker. Deciding to escape, he travels to London and encounters the "Artful Dodger," a member of a criminal gang led by the elderly criminal, Fagin.
1 Cinderella
Cinderella, Disney's classic rags-to-riches film from 1950, is one of their greatest since Snow White. The film, once again, drew its magic from the Brothers Grimm fairy tale of the same moniker (also known as "The Little Glass Slipper").
As with almost all of these fairy tales, there were some darker elements excluded from Disney's version that were present in the Brothers Grimm tale, like when the evil stepsisters mutilate their feet in order for the slipper to fit, as well as pigeons plucking out both of their eyes by the end of the tale.
NEXT: Disney: 10 Cinematic Dishes That Fans Would Love To See Featured In The Parks
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Roommates Pt 2
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@theincaprincess
...
Summary of Part 1: In the hunt for your Brother’s dog you’d ran into Richard, through the course of the night you’d found yourself now as his new roommate.
- Of course part 3 is next...
…
Richard’s mind raced as he settled into his seat for the long flight back home, drawing out his book knowing full well he’d not be able to focus at all as you’d flooded into his mind again at realizing that he’d have to spend the next few nights alone and choosing to try and focus on his brief time curled around you. Staring through the small window counting down the time until he could be back with you to set up the furniture in his new apartment, nerves crept in at the thoughts of how he’d secure a date with you when he’d returned, his mind still racing as a soft ding triggered the entire plane to buckle up and prepare for the landing. Stepping off the plane he’d eased his way through the large crowds thankful for not drawing much attention before dropping to his knees as a small boy lept and crashed into his chest for a tight hug around his neck, wrapping his around his legs to hold him in place as he stood again to hug his brother.
“So what’s this about a girlfriend?” Smirking at his younger brother.
Richard chuckled, “She’s my roommate.”
His brother nodded, “Uh huh, cuz you really, how expensive is the city that you can’t afford a place on your own?”
Richard chuckled, “That’s not it, I’ll explain on the way home.” Turning to kiss his nephews cheek as the small child spun into a long story about a frog he’d found in their garden spreading Richard’s smile wider even as it continued while he strapped him into his small booster seat in the back seat before sliding in the front after laying his bag in the back. Eventually the small child getting distracted as his story ended, pulling out his favorite toy forming his own adventure.
“So, what’s her name?” Smirking as he glanced at his brother.
“Jaqi.”
“How’d you meet?”
He chuckled, “My cab nearly ran her over in a bad storm.”
His eyes darted back to Richard, “What?!”
Richard chuckled again then further explained your first interaction, “And we’re going to be roommates.”
“Seriously, a few days and you’re just jumping in like that?”
Richard’s smile grew, “You haven’t met her, I can’t just let her go by without trying this.”
“Oh I can’t wait to hear what Mum and Dad have to say about this.” Chuckling as Richard smirked glancing out his window happily eyeing the large city rolling past them. “She’s that beautiful then?”
He glanced back to his brother smiling widely, “She feels like home.”
Locking eyes with his brother as he glanced back, smiling himself at having felt the same feeling about his Wife when he’d met her, “You should have led with that one, that changes everything.”
..
The rest of the ride filled with news of what he’d missed and that his family had gathered as many boxes as they could manage for him to pack, stopping finally when they’d reached their parent’s house, heading inside for a full lunch with group hugs and excited hums from his mother at being able to hold her not so little boy again after their short time apart.
His Mother pulling him straight to a large armchair beside hers to hear all about his news including his new lady, each of them taking turns asking what he’d learned about you and even asking if he’d seen you dance yet.
Richard’s eyebrow raised, “How did you know she’s a dancer?”
His Mother smiling as a gentle escaped her smaller frame, “Dear, you’ve both been all over the news, she really is beautiful.”
A soft chuckle escaping him as he smiled brightly at his Mother, “I haven’t seen her dance yet no, but I’m sure there are videos of her dancing online somewhere.”
His Father choosing the chair on the other side of his Wife, “So have you set plans for a date yet?”
“I’m still working on that, trying to figure it all out, the furniture we picked should get back after I do, so was thinking maybe offering takeout or something and asking her through that, she said she’s on a month break from dancing so her nights are free.”
Mum, “Is she injured?”
“No, um I think they just switch dancers, she mentioned something about rotations for the seasons.”
When the oven timer went off they all shifted to continue through to the dining room, after he and his brother headed to his place to finish his packing he’d attempted to start before his trip to the states, eventually being left alone when the sun started to set, working up a sweat through his urging to get it all done as soon as he could. Breaking as his stomach growled loudly, cooking up the last of his food and shoveling it back before heading back to packing after a spur of the moment walk to the store, then finally dropping onto his bed for another night of curling around his pillow, tossing and turning between sets of checking his phone for stories about you.
Waking tangled in his blanket and jerking free to head out to finish the arrangement with the shipping company, writing out a list when he’d returned after shifting everything going to his new place near the door leaving the rest to be sent to the family’s storage shed at his Brother’s house, choosing to leave his furniture and dishes packing the rest to send to you. Heading to his event after showering, still counting down the hours till he could return to collapse into your arms on your heavenly mattress, the entire interview being a large chunk about the latest Hobbit film and his next steps then ending the interview with nearly ten minutes just being drilled about you by the hosts, his smile covering his face as he did his best not to say too much, merely that you were going to be living together in a flat that reminded him of his favorite book store. Collapsing for a few hours of sleep after then greeting the movers at the door as his Brother arrived with another small truck to take the rest for storage after they’d carted away the Mountain of boxes, “Rich, you sure she’s got room for all that?”
His eyes skimmed over the pile that seemed much larger than before, “It’s not that much, I think it’s how it’s stacked, either way if she complains I’ll just sift through it and trim it down.”
His Brother chuckled, “Hopefully for your indecisive self I hope it all fits.”
Richard smirked before climbing into the truck after turning in his keys for his old flat after a last thorough check and heading to his Brother’s for the night and then off to the airport again straight for LA, groggily leaving the plane heading straight for his next hotel after getting a ride and eating with his manager, “Richard, how was your flight?” Smiling up at him through a firm handshake.
“Exhausting, couldn’t sleep. So straight to the show after?”
His manager chuckled releasing his hand, “Though we might have a lunch first before I drop you for a nap at the hotel.”
Richard nodded, “Sounds good.” Following him to his car as photographers snapped pictures of him as he forced a smile onto his face while avoiding their shouted questions about you as he slid into the passenger seat, his legs pressing flat against the dashboard as he sat, hiss hand fumbling at the seat until he found the latch to force it back, sighing at the sudden relief for his newly freed legs while buckling his seatbelt.
His manager starting the car and taking the short drive to the small diner he’d chosen saying, “So you found a new place to stay?”
Richard nodded feeling a creeping feeling in his gut about his manager speaking about you, “Yes, I did. Nice sized flat in the city.”
His manager nodded holding his smirk, “And that nice piece you found doesn’t hurt he deal either.”
Richard’s jaw clenched at his term used in referring to you, “Don’t call her that.”
His manager glanced at him dropping his smirk raising an eyebrow curiously and noting Richard’s sift in posture, “Sorry bout that. Forgot you’re not like some of my other clients.”
“Meaning?” His voice sounding out with a slight growl hidden within it.
“Mostly not the gentlemanly kind. Really didn’t mean to offend you, so what’s she like, heard she’s a dancer.”
“She’s incredible.” Still holding himself back from throttling the man strapped in beside him.
He chuckled, “Ya, didn’t really get a good image on her when I called about the papers.”
Richards head turned stiffly to face him, “What papers?”
“Just the normal non disclosure forms, said she’d look them over and send them back after.”
Richard grumbled shutting his eyes forcing himself to face forward as he rubbed his face, “I really wish you hadn’t done that.”
“She didn’t seem upset or even surprised, mentioned she’d thought you’d have brought a set when you went to sign the lease.”
His head laying back against the headrest sighing, “I wasn’t going to, I don’t need to have her sign anything to live with her, she’s got just as much right to expect my discretion as well.”
“Well who knows she might just send you a set of her own.”
“Which number did you call her at?”
“Her home phone, the landlord gave it to me when I told him it was for you.”
“Can I have that number?”
He glanced at Richard as he was digging his phone from his pocket, grabbing his as well and handing it over, “It’s under Rich’s new Home number.”
Richard sighed copying it into his contacts, “Forgot to ask for the home number too.” Unwilling to admit that he’d also forgotten to ask for your cell number or even leave you his.
Sitting through the meal forcing a calm exterior as he was screaming internally as he quickly headed for his room after being checked into his hotel room, dialing your number as soon as he’d reached his door, slipping in and locking it behind him shuffling in as he pulled out of his jacket keeping the phone to his ear, sifting his bag between his hands before dropping it on his bed and sitting at the foot of it while he untied his shoes. The call ending with a recorded message from you, “It’s Jaqi Pear here, you’ve probably just missed me or I’m tangled up in something on my way to the phone, so leave a message and your number and I’ll probably call you right back, so ya, bye!”
His smile sliding back across his face at your voice paired with the adorably strange message, *BEEP!*, “Jaqi, it’s Richard, sorry I forgot to trade numbers, my cell is _, please don’t worry about those papers, call or text when you can, I still have a few hours until my next stop. I’ll let you get untangled, take your time, bye.” Smirking as he pictured you trapped in the covers or running from the shower or something as he laid back kicking out of his shoes letting out a sigh.
…
Easing through your warm-ups for your performance that night you’d eaten and brushed your teeth before heading to work, weaving your way through the cameras outside passing the waiting crowd all whispering as they spotted you slip inside after recognizing you from the massive poster of you outside the theatre, finding your way back to the dressing room to quickly pull into your costume. A trick of yours you’d managed to learn, even the most intricate of costumes you could somehow find the proper way into it alone within a few minutes giving the makeup and hair teams more than enough time to focus on your more tedious part of preparing, giving a large smile and side hug to your leading man for the evening as he passed you in your makeup chair before heading to his. Tonight finding yourself as Juliet with a Romeo whom you’d paired with for years now, both easily finding your regular patterns of movement forming a unique performance of the pieces you played a part in since your first pairing, both of you being very well known for projecting emotions through your entire bodies movements rather than just your faces cementing your status as the top pair in the company.
As the final curtain fell your mind raced back to Richard while you returned to undress, through your performance you’d spotted the few cameramen who’d snuck in stealing pictures of your performance only to be dragged out kicking and screaming, Finally finding yourself cleaned off and back home to curl up for sleep, wishing for your warm snuggle buddy glancing at your phone remembering your neglect at trading numbers before he’d left, especially with the packages and furniture arriving so soon. Your next morning finding you woken by a loud bussing coming from the front door, shoving out of bed and stumbling to the box along the wall by the door and hitting the button, sleepily answering, “Who’s there?”
A loud voice shouted back into the intercom forcing yoru head back as your eyes shot open, fully awake at the startlingly loud message, “Delivery from _ Furniture.”
Your finger hitting the button to allow them in before heading to grab your pants after saying, “Top floor.”
Bouncing into your jeans before quickly adding your shoes, propping your door open as you tied your shoes, the three large Men arriving with the first trip of your new furniture, and setting it up in the main room after dropping the desks and bed frames Richard had picked in each bedroom, two of the first group of men quickly assembling the bed frames for you as the rest of the Men they’d brought finished carrying in the rest and laying out the couch along the large carpet you’d pulled from the empty bedroom leaving it along the wall in the corner past the reading nook as another of the Men mounted the Tv’s legs to it and set it on the empty stand along the wall near the couch. Thanking each of them as they left after signing for the order after they’d all helped slide the large mattress in your room onto the new platform bed frame, leaving you alone to wander around your partially filled rooms then heading for your cell phone as it rang again, once again agreeing to fill in for the night and the one after as their lead still had her head stuck in a bucket at he constant sickness.
Testing your new couch and Tv for your first dinner in the apartment, trying to fight the empty feeling in your newly filled apartment fighting back the memories from your trip to the furniture store, playfully shoving and pulling him down to try out the various chairs and couches forcing as many laughs from him as you could manage before settling on the large grey one in your large living room. Oh don’t start this, he just needs a roommate. Only a few days and it’s trying to start hurting from one night alone… Settling finally into accepting being part of some cosmic joke as you flicked on the channel seeing North & South, switching it to see Sparkhouse, then again for Robin Hood finally stopping at Hannibal in hopes of not finding another role of his where he’d be wearing even fewer clothes, starting your warm-ups in the empty space between the couch and the Tv, eventually having to switch It off to head to work again then finding your way back to stretch out on your bed testing the new frame noting that it would probably be better for Richard to get up and down from.
The sunrise bringing another loud buzz, stumbling again, thankful to still be in your jeans from the night before, allowing the mattress people in after telling them which floor, holding the door for them and pointing out the room and thanking them as they slid it on the new frame before passing you the sheet to sign before leaving after you’d thanked them again. Grumbling as you turned to return to your warm bed, reaching the doorway, your hand gripping the frame as another buzz sounded behind you, letting out a deep breath to relax your tense shoulders before turning back and allowing the messenger up.
The teenager reaching the door with a small forced smile handing you the brown packet addressed to you asking you to sign for it before turning and leaving, making your way to the couch you slid the packet open and pulling out the packet of papers to find a nondisclosure agreement. Sighing as you skimmed through it as you stood going for the phone to answer it as It rang, having a brief conversation with Richard’s manager who got called away from the phone call within a few minutes leaving you to slide the papers back in the folder and tossing it on your new desk in your room beside your laptop.
Readying your body to collapse back onto bed when the buzzer sounded again, Damnit, Damnit Damnit… turning for the door again and letting the shipping Company up. Your offer to help being rejected leaving you to watch the large group of ten Men making nearly twelve trips each filing the large room with a massive maze of boxes, sighing as you reached across a small stack to grab the papers to sign and thanking them as they maneuvered the door shut behind them. Starting a round of dishes before forming a path through the boxes scanning each and moving the ones marked clothes to his bedroom along the far wall around the small walk in closet and returning to sort out the ones named books to slide near the small book nook wall with his movies sent near the wall by the Tv and organizing the rest to form paths through the large stacks before heading for a nap after a shower. Great, how the hell does he have more things than I do, and they say Women have too many belongings.. Noting the massive difference between his belongings compared to yours, and rolling your eyes as you headed to bed doing your best to keep your tears in check as the aches grew when the temperature dropped again through the day, after a small nap you’d risen again to watch an episode of Robin Hood, caving to the signals of the universe, thankful for this one episode where Guy seemed to be more of a full person, not just roaming around shirtless or doing anything terrible like leaving infants in the woods between his swooning episodes for Marian between challenges from Robin. Giggling at his strange and sassy expressions in the background reminding you of Orlando Bloom’s Legolas expressions from Lord of the Rings while you rolled through your stretching routines before your quick shower then returning to watch the last of the episode turning the Tv so you could watch it while you cooked before choosing to eat at the small table before the Tv set and heading out after brushing your teeth again.
Passing through a much larger crowd tonight signing a few autographs as you slid through to the door, completing your show to find another crowd waiting for more pictures and autographs with you before making it safely back to your car again for the drive back home heading through your small maze and settling on your couch for another episode and slipping quickly off to sleep under the blanket you’d brought from the closet near the laundry room where you’d shoved the cushions and blankets from your former snuggling pile.
Today however waking with a cramp in your shoulder from your awkward position, mentally making note of not sleeping in that position on the new couch, sighing as you climbed to a seated position groaning as you woke up to spot a shirtless Richard on your Tv as Guy was trying out a new set of armor, shamelessly scanning the dips and curves across his chest and arms with the smoldering smirk he shot at the woman he’d shared the screen with. Trying to imagine what the scene would have ended up being had they not made him remain hairless for the show, noting the vast difference, still impossibly tempting but far less knee wobblingly teasing to you without even just that one trail of hair from his navel to his waist band, enough to make you want to trace along the tempting trail after your fingers slid through the wide patch running across his broad chest forming a V to his navel.
Shaking your head with a groan to force the image of him practically purring under you as you ran your fingers across his chest and down his stomach, Stop it, stop it, don’t even start it. This will never work with him as your roommate if you’re fawning over him Thankfully snapping out of your daydream as your phone rang, heading for your small maze and snagging your foot dropping you to the ground as his voice rang out on your machine mumbling, “Great.” Climbing back to your feet as you mentally recited his number as you turned heading for your cell phone to dial it, “Hello?” Your voice sounding out with a slight pant.
His smile coming back, “Jaqi, it’s Richard, I am so so sorry about my manager sending those papers.”
Another muffled grunt came from your end of the phone as you tried to fix the stack of boxes you’d shifted, “Don’t worry about it, you’ve got a lot to protect, I really don’t mind.”
“Still, I’d prefer if you’d just ignore getting them at all.” You giggled settling down on the new couch turning down the volume, “Was that my voice?” Smirking at the image of you watching his shows or movies when he was gone.
A nervous chuckle escaped you, “Ya, Robin Hood, you’re all over the basic rabbit ear channels, the satellite people are coming by sometime between today and Tuesday.”
He chuckled, before his body raised up, “Wait, when did the furniture get there?”
“Um, day before yesterday, your mattress and the mountain of boxes came yesterday, you don’t mind me testing the Tv do you?”
He chuckled again, “No, not at all, it’s for both of us, you like the couch?”
“Until I woke up with a knot in my shoulder from getting stuck between the cushions, other than that it’s great just be careful how you sleep on it.”
He chuckled again at your added giggle, “Did they set it all up for you?”
“The bed frames and the couch and Tv, the rest they got it in the rooms that I guessed they went in, might have to shift some of it around when you get back. We didn’t really cover the layout in the store.”
“I really had hoped I would be there to help you set it all up, they really rushed the delivery, thought they said it wouldn’t be ready until next Tuesday for delivery, especially the boxes, they swore it would take at least five days.”
“Maybe someone tipped them off to who you were when you left.”
“Hmm, well I certainly will be leaving them a sailing review when I finally get back. I’ll try to get back on the first flight back so I can shift through the things. They’re not taking up too much space are they?”
Your eyes scanning the full room past the Tv pursing your lips, “Um, not really, I mean I did move the ones marked books, movies and clothes to different spots, is there anything you needed unpacked for when you get back?”
“Not that I can think of, I had something I picked up for you but I can’t remember which box I’d placed it in.”
A smile across your face as your cheeks heated up, “You didn’t have to get me anything.”
He chuckled, “Yes I did, it’s not jewelry or anything but I thought of you when I spotted it.”
Your cheeks lighting up even brighter as your smile grew, “How did your show go?”
“Went alright, they asked about you for a good bit, I’m sure this next interview will spend more time about you, it’s a whole table of women, the last time I went on they kept asking if I was seeing anyone.”
“I think they’re just interested in dating you.”
He let out a quick laugh, “Not likely it’s a vast difference between on set and off camera. I saw a headline about you yesterday, you’re dancing in Romeo and Juliet?”
“Oh ya, the lead is out sick, they keep me as an understudy, I’ve played just about all the leads so I’m used to a last minute call in. Tonight should be the last show for me unless her head gets stuck in the bucket again then it’ll be for the last week of the show at the longest before the next show takes the slot.”
“Any spare seats for when I get back?”
You giggled, “I’ll get you one or a couple if you’re wanting them for a date or something.”
His jaw clenching at your suggestion of him dating someone else, “No, it’s not for a date, and I would never ask you for tickets for a date, if I ever did find someone else I cared to date I wouldn’t use you to impress them, even if they were huge fans of yours, I respect you far too much to use you like that.” Trying to keep his voice steady through his heartbeat pounding through his ears.
“Just the one ticket then?”
He smiled again, “Just the one, and a dinner or dessert after would be on me if you wanted.”
“Sounds like a plan, certainly would fuel the dating rumors though.” Biting your lip to hold back an excited squeak.
“I’ve seen worse rumors about me and other actors, trust me dating you is the farthest thing from an insult.”
“Well I can certainly say the same about rumors for dating you. When’s your next interview?”
He let out a groan as he stretched, “In a few hours.”
“Well You should get some rest, I can’t imagine having to cross an ocean twice in a matter of days, you must feel terrible.”
He chuckled again remembering the dull full body ache and haze he’d felt after that last flight, now happily relaxed on his bed pain free just from a few minutes chatting with you, “I guess, I’ll text you when I get there and about how it all went, would you let me know how your show goes?”
“Sure, if you’d like.”
“I will talk to you later then, this is your cell number right?”
“Yes it is, get some sleep snuggle buddy.”
He chuckled again, “I’ll try, later then.”
You giggled, “Later.” Hitting the end button and stretching out on the couch with an excited squeal pressed into a cushion you’d pulled over your face before glancing at the boxes trying to guess which box he’d placed his surprise in and what he possibly could have packed before glancing to the large maze of boxes before you.
…
He settled down for a nap before being woken again by a call text from his manager saying he was downstairs, standing and straightening himself up checking his reflection in the mirror and primping after brushing his teeth and adding some more deodorant and cologne after changing to a button down shirt and dress slacks before heading down as he sent you a message from his phone, smirking at the smiley face you’d sent back wishing him luck. Sliding his phone in his pocket as he left the elevator and headed for his manager’s car hearing him say, “You look well rested.”
Richard chuckled, “Got a quick power nap.”
Spending the rest of the drive covering a list of possible questions along with the latest stories about you, telling Richard that they had been trying to dig for any dirt on you but had been unable to find any so far, the worst was a story you’d covered on the news and accidentally dumping a full mug of piping hot coffee on the head anchor as you tripped, knocking over the whole table he’d been sitting behind revealing his bright pick fuzzy pajama pants with Hello Kitty across them. Somehow being a clutz had become your worst trait to the world, casting a strange pairing with your dance career, along with suiting Richard’s gentle giant personality as per the fan’s comments so far, heading in to a group of large smiles as they led him to his dressing room until he was led to the set as they set up his introduction to the show.
Holding his smile through the usual bits about Tolkien and his work in the films then doing his best to hide his smirk as they asked about you, “So I hear you’ve got a lovely lady in your life now.”
A chuckle escaping him as the women all turned to him with large smiles, “I suppose I do.”
Woman 1, “So, how did you two meet?”
His grin growing, “I’m not sure you’d believe me if I told you.”
Woman 3, “Try me.” Resting her chin in her palm leaning forward on the desk before them as he chuckled again shifting slightly in his seat as he drew in a breath.
“Alright, well I’d just had the worst flight I’ve had in a long time, just the perfect end to a miserable day, and it was pouring outside, and well.” He chuckled again, “The cab I was in nearly crashed into her as she crossed the street.”
Their mouths dropped open as Woman 2 asked, “Was she alright?”
“Oh ya, she was chasing after her brother’s dog, massive Saint Bernard, just got up and kept sprinting after I’d gotten out. And the cab took off without me, guess he didn’t realize I’d gotten out, so I took off after her and the storm just kept getting worse, so I tagged along as she carried his massive dog back through the subway all the way back to her place, got there just before it started hailing so she let me borrow her spare room.”
Woman 1, “So the house hunting and furniture shopping?”
He chuckled again, “I have a role in New York, so I was looking for a place to stay, and I’m terrible at choosing places, just dreadful when I go alone, so I asked if she’d give her opinions on the places we saw, it just mainly came down to, she’s already got a spare room in an incredible flat that was up for grabs so I jumped on it.”
Woman 3’s smile dropped as her eyes furrowed at him, “I don’t believe it’s just a renting situation.”
He chuckled again, “Well it’s really between us both but you can believe what you like, but I will say she is an incredible woman who, if it was romantic between us, would be exactly the woman I would want to be with.”
Woman 2 leaning forward with a large smile, “Oh now it’s settled for me, I’m so happy for you, the last time you’d been here it hurt seeing such a sweet guy like you without someone on your arm.”
He held his smile as they all joined in and eventually led the conversation back to his next role with one of the women asking if he was leaving his options open for a chance with his new leading lady only earning another chuckle from him as they erupted into a full blown debate over who he should be with before finally letting him off the show so he could head back to the hotel so he could arrange an earlier flight and calling the front desk for a number for a taxi to drive him for his flight back at midnight and messaging his manager for the news on his flight.
..
Stretching out on his bed he pulled up your messages in his phone shooting you another one, “Finished the interview, good chunk was about you, gave them basics on how we met.”
His smirk grew as you called him, tapping the green icon and raising it to his ear, “Really, you can hear me right, you’re on speaker, I’m warming up for the show.”
His smile grew, “I can hear you fine, I can call you back later if you want.”
You leaned forward continuing your stretched bending flat against your legs, “No, It’s fine, so what’s their reaction to you crashing into me and chasing after me in the pouring rain?” Raising one of your legs rotating your hips as you did while lowering your hands flat to the floor before swapping the legs rotating the other side.
“They were more concerned about your safety after, then they focused on me moving in. It should be airing in a couple days, so you can watch it when the satellite guys finally show up.”
You slowly lowered yourself into a split, sliding your feet along the wooden floor focusing on stretching out your upper thighs, “I have a random question for you.”
His smile grew, “Fire away.”
“What exactly is your stance on seeing yourself on Tv, for example do you watch your own recordings like religiously or just try to avoid it at all costs unless for premiers or are you fine with it once and a while?”
Letting out a nervous chuckle his eyebrows rose then dropped again as he thought about it, “Um, I suppose it depends on which one it is and how often I see it, why?”
“Well ,it’s kind of weird but I get in these moods sometimes for what I want to watch, mostly for period dramas, which North & South obviously falls under.” His smile growing even larger, “So I was wondering if I had to leave that one till you’d left for work or watch it with headphones on my laptop so you won’t be bothered by it. Another one would be the Hobbit films, I marathon Tolkien from the originals to the newest Hobbits.”
His chuckles finally broke out through his large smile, “You can watch what you like where you like, I don’t mind it as long as it’s not constant, and feel free to ask anything you’d like about the filming, I’ll try my best to answer what I can.”
“That’s good to know.” Standing up and raising your legs in front of you then behind you and to your sides.
“You don’t mind me watching your shows?”
“No, if you like it you can watch, just don’t think you have to.” A loud pop followed by a gasp catching his attention.
“You alright?”
“Yup, just my back popping, I should warn you I sound like an old woman sometimes.”
He chuckled again, “Oh you should hear mine after a rigorous day on set or in the gym, really the only time I feel my age.”
“Are you needing a ride from the airport?”
“If you wouldn’t mind, but I’ll be getting in at four am. So I can call a cab so you can sleep.”
“No it’s fine, I’ll just nap after the show, grab you and sleep some more when we get back.”
He sighed, “Sounds good, these hotel stops are killing my sleep schedule, and I could really use another snuggling session.” Bringing a large smile to your face as you started your arm stretches while you did a few toe lifts and curls to warm up your feet.
“Sounds good definitely.”
A yawn slipped out of him forcing him to admit he needed a nap saying your goodnights before leaving you to your warm-ups and drifting off straight after, napping until his phone rang, his hand searching for the phone and raising it to his ear, “Mr Armitage, this is _ at the front desk, just calling for your wakeup call and to let you know we’ve called for a taxi for your trip to the airport.”
He rubbed his eyes, “Thank you.” Hanging up after they had and dragging himself out of bed, once again feeling his entire body aching as he hurried to get ready before heading down to sign out and meet his taxi outside, dropping heavily once again into his plane seat and laying his head along the wall near his seat falling into another nap in the empty first class cabin on the red eye flight to New York.
His pain slamming into his entire body again as he woke to a gentle tap on his shoulder from a flight attendant as they landed, quickly rubbing his face, “Sorry bout that, thank you for waking me.”
She gave a nervous giggle and darted away as he smiled at her, collecting his bag and heading for the exit gate where you would be, each step easing his pain as his eyes locked on you waiting along a small half wall in the large empty main lobby, spotting the tight yellow sweater you were in hanging over the tight jeans you’d slipped into with the mismatched converse as the large mess of curls pooled around your face as you eyed an old man showing a coin trick to a small child to calm its tears.
.
Your head turning to him as the announcement came out for his plane’s arrival, shooting him a large smile as you pulled yourself from the wall sliding your hand through your hair to brush it back accepting the large hug he’d lifted you into with a giggle, “Get any sleep?” stretching out your toes smiling at the large distance between you and the floor before being gently set down again.
He smiled down at you after a quick peck to your cheek, “Few hours, ready to curl up back at the flat though.” His eyes lighting up and sparkling down at you forcing you to gently grip the front of his sweater to start the walk to the car as you turned wile he let out a chuckle, curling his hand around your back as you led the way through the garage, relaxing at the lack of cameras.
The drive back went quickly enough leading to another trip up in the elevator, his smile growing as you’d rested your head against his arm in the elevator, fighting to stay awake and straightening again before making the short trip to your door, Richard unlocked it with his key he’d already pulled out as you dug for yours in your pocket before opening it for you. His eyebrows pressing together seeing the large stacks of boxes in the light pouring from the bedroom that you’d forgotten to turn off, “I did not realize it was this much.”
You turned back to him as you stood on one foot untying your shoe, “Don’t worry about it, I’m sure it’s just the boxes.” Jerking your first foot free before you mumbled, “My shoes don’t match.”
He chuckled, “It’s kind of adorable though.” Earning a smirk from you as he locked the door and knelt to help untie and remove your next shoe, handing it to you before removing his while you led the way to your bedroom through the small maze, his eyes locking on you after dropping his bag as you slid out of your jeans revealing the yellow lace panties hidden under your jeans, dropping them to the floor by the bed before laying your phone on the stand by the bed and sliding under the covers with a sigh. Forming a pile on the stand at his side before pulling free from his jeans and sweater and sliding over to you after turning off the lights, blindly forming another contorted pile before drifting off to sleep feeling another quick peck to your cheek. His eyes opened as you turned under him, raising up so you could straighten out sliding your arms under your pillow as he slid down to stretch across your back, smiling as you’d woven your legs back through his and curled your fingers through his after he’d laid his hand over your right forearm waking to find your other hand having claimed his other as well feeling you shifting beneath him as you woke up to your growling stomach with a soft groan.
His lips pressing to your cheek, “Stay here, I’ll make you something.” Making sure you were fully covered, smiling down at you as you nuzzled deeper into your warm spot as he left to cook you something, returning shortly after with an omelets and a small stack of pancakes for both of you paired with hash browns on a small tray he’d grabbed from one of his boxes. Setting it down on the small stand by your bed smiling down at you before gently kissing your cheek again after brushing your hair back and softly whispering, “Breakfast Jaqi.”
His smile growing as he helped you untangle from the sheets while turning over with a sleepy smile, sitting up as he curled in front of you setting the tray up, your eyebrows pressing together, “Where’d you find the tray?”
“Packed it.”
You nodded, “Hmm, the food looks delicious, thank you.”
He chuckled, “The least I could do.” Grabbing his fork as you grabbed yours, smirking between his bites at your contented drowsy hums, when your plate was empty he went to bring you the second serving as he claimed his before eventually taking the dishes away to find you nodding off again, chuckling as he slid back into bed at your side and gently pulled you onto his chest letting you curl across him nuzzling your head against his chin as he covered you both again, “Get as much sleep as you like.” Pressing another kiss to your forehead as you sighed relaxing against his warm chest as his arms tightened around your back.
His eyes opening as you muttered, “Damnit,” sliding off of him and attempting to reach your phone, missing it by nearly a foot and dropping flat with a groan, he chuckled rolling grabbing your phone and sliding it under your hand as he got a muffled, “Thank you.” Before seeing you hit talk after letting out a rough hum, your voice now coming out cheerful and steady without a hint of exhaustion, “Morning Mr Tallus.” Watching you prop up on your elbows rolling your head to the side as a large hand slid gently over your back, “Not a problem, I will see you tonight. Thank you for that as well, bye.”
Sighing as you hung up the phone and he gently grabbed it setting it back on the table where he’d grabbed it, “Problem?”
You turned back to him forcing back your hair again sliding back closer to him as he lowered himself back down letting you curl back across his chest with his help, “Lead’s pregnant, her morning sickness won’t let her perform through the last week, so I’m filling in. Oh and he got the seat for you, up in one of the booths.”
Pt 3
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On “Agape”
(Or, The Closest I’ll Ever Get to Meta, Probably)
This is like some kind of weird, disjointed masterpost on why I love Agape. It’s not particularly deep or thought-provoking and it has a lot of bad words (sorry) - I’m not the best at this stuff. But it’s something I felt like writing about, so here we are. Enjoy! (Or don’t, see if I care.)
6/22/17: Updated with info from the guidebook!
So. Agape.
Where to even start? I love everything about Agape. The song, the choreography, the overall message - it’s far and away my favorite program. Please allow me to talk about it at unnecessary length.
Yuri: “Damn it. Who cares about agape?”
Me, that’s who.
The official stuff
The guidebook has this to say about Agape (this is a somewhat rough translation - feel free to correct!):
With unconditional love as its theme (in opposition to Eros) is the impressive "In Regards to Love ~Agape~", with its boy soprano overflowing with the feeling of translucence. When he was assigned the song by Victor, Yuri said "this innocent image makes me wanna barf," but during his mandatory trip to a waterfall, memories of his time with his grandfather surfaced, and he put those feelings into the program. He had realized that the feelings from when he was very young and he skated to see the joy on his grandfather's face were agape. From the choreography, it was said to be "made in the image of things like a white bird or something holy (Miyamoto)", so it feels light as a feather, and yet you can also feel the strength of the will of someone who has something to sacrifice.
There's beauty in the limit of what can only be done "now" with an androgynous appearance. It's an earnestly flexible and delicate program, but the jump composition includes two quads in the second half, putting it at a high level and prompting Yuuri to name him "a beautiful, ever-evolving monster." Although the triple axel is in the first half, you could say that the program composition is challenging for Yuri, who is still young and lacks stamina. Also, in the same way as Yuuri's "Eros", the filler between components is strong, making it a difficult program as well. With a firm foundation in ballet thrown in, movement is in the orthodox Russian skater way, and the costume can't be overlooked.
The concept
What is agape? baby don’t hurt me Okay no, this is serious shit. It’s one of at least four Greek words for love, two of which should be immediately recognizable to YOI fans (the other being eros, of course). The Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy has a lot to say about love, including agape-flavored love:
Agape refers to the paternal love of God for man and of man for God but is extended to include a brotherly love for all humanity. [...] Agape arguably draws on elements from both eros and philia in that it seeks a perfect kind of love that is at once a fondness, a transcending of the particular, and a passion without the necessity of reciprocity.
Beautiful, right? Almost brings a tear to your eye. Or maybe that’s just me. Anyway, I feel like this sets the stage pretty well. Agape evokes certain themes: purity, selflessness, clarity, innocence. Not necessarily traits that embody Yuri as a character, but that’s what makes it interesting, isn’t it? (I’ll go into this more later.)
The song
Yuuri: “It’s very clear and innocent, like someone who doesn’t know what love is yet.”
Holy shit. I really, really love this song. I can listen to it over and over and have done so many times. It’s just gorgeous. I do enjoy Eros, too, but something about Agape just really resonates with me. I’m going to punctuate this liberally with lyrics (fun fact: music with lyrics wasn’t allowed in ISU competition until 2014), which I have taken from the YOI wikia in the case of the Latin-English translation. The Japanese-English ones were done by me.
Since my life is only temporary, it desires
ardently the eternal love
The translation of this line from Japanese to English (rather than Latin to English) is somewhat different:
This life, driven by passion, is like the briefest flicker
I pray for an eternal love
The addition of “driven by passion” is fitting (as opposed to the Latin’s use of “desires ardently”). It makes it seem a little more forthcoming, which is very appropriate for Yuri, who is very obviously driven by passion.
I will believe, I will give, I will wait, I will honor
I will work, I will give thanks
Here, too, the Japanese-English translation differs slightly:
I believe, I sacrifice, I seek, I revere,
I bear it and I give thanks
I feel like these lyrics in particular do speak to him at least a little. When you remove the religious connotations (whether or not he’s actually religious at all seems to be up for debate - personally, I take the giant, gaudy cross necklace he wears in WttM with an equally giant grain of salt), a lot of these words ring true. Sacrifice? Check. This kid provides for his family, who he rarely gets to see, and has little in the way of friends. Work? Double check. He’s been busting his ass almost his whole life. The waiting part is iffy, but I guess I have to give him credit for holding off on doing quads while still in the junior bracket, even if that was only to get Victor to choreograph his next program. It totally counts.
And at the end, opening doors hidden
to us, solemn and famous, it will take care of us
to us, solemn and famous, it will take care of us
And the Japanese version:
At last the hidden door is exposed
God's great spirit appears,
bringing with it pure healing
Clearly, the second is more explicit when it comes to the religious themes. I think in some ways the Japanese version kind of expands on the Latin version, which seems a little more vague.
One can certainly speculate that there are death themes at play in this song, with death presumably being the “hidden door.” The final two verses can be interpreted to be a reference to death as well (the Japanese version is not much different, so I’ll only share the Latin):
The grand, grand Mercy.
Ah! I hear your voice
My freedom is near!
My life with love, the peace of benevolence
That this is the eternal happiness, I pray.
The only real difference between the Latin and Japanese versions are that "Mercy" is replaced with "god's love" in Japanese. Whether this “eternal happiness” refers to something like the afterlife is probably subject to interpretation unless there’s some translated commentary floating around that I haven’t seen (which is certainly possible).
On the other hand, it could just be some kind of reference to opening your heart to God’s love or whatever. Who knows? Not me, clearly.
Yuri: “Switch them! That piece isn’t me at all!”
Victor: “You have to do the opposite of what people expect. How else will you surprise them?”
Yuri makes it no secret that he doesn't care for this song. He's Not Into It. When Victor plays it for him and Yuuri for the first time, he proclaims that "this innocence crap makes [him] want to barf." He wants Eros, but of course that's not how Victor assigns them and he winds up with Agape. This is the part where I admit I'm really glad, because Yuri is my favorite character and Agape is my favorite program. What can I say.
The choreography
How do you take a song (and concept) like Agape and a character like Yuri and make it actually work? The program itself, of course. Choreographed by Victor (as he originally promised), it does a fantastic job of turning an angry little hellspawn of a teen into the embodiment of the highest form of love.
(Please excuse my extremely fake photoset - tumblr will not let me do what I want. Thanks tumblr.)
The program begins with him facing the ground, and then reaching up towards the sky. Possibly to a higher power? As the program comes to an end, he’s got both arms extended upwards, hands clasped together as if in prayer. That makes it a little less ambiguous, especially considering the song closes with the words esse oro, or “I pray.”
The program composition is as follows, according to the official guidebook:
Triple axel
Flying sit spin
Change-foot camel spin
Quadruple salchow/triple toe loop
Quadruple toe loop
Step sequence
Combination spin
It also notes that the planned components were not changed for the Grand Prix Final.
You can watch the choreography as performed by a real person on the second BD, and you can also watch Johnny Weir do part of it on Instagram!
The costume
Yuuko: "It's the see-through costume of legend from Victor's junior days! I never thought I'd see it in person! It's so beautiful..."
I don’t know what to say here. It’s pretty. Look at it. (It’s my phone case.) I do think it’s worth noting the vague cross shape over the chest and the fact that the shoulders look somewhat like angel wings, tying into the religious themes of the song.
The part where I ramble aimlessly
Yuuri: "Everyone's drawn into Yurio's agape performance. I can tell it's completely different from what I saw in practice. No one can look away from this beautiful, ever-evolving monster!"
I think the fact that Agape is at such odds with Yuri's personality has a lot to do with why I enjoy it so much. He's called "a beautiful monster," and aside from the implication that his off-ice persona is quite different from what he typically exhibits on the ice (with the obvious exception of Welcome to the Madness, which is basically him going “hahaha, fuck you” and finally doing what he wants - I highly recommend reading @ice-tiger-kitten‘s fantastic WttM meta!), Agape (and Allegro, I guess) really embodies the “beautiful” part of that, whereas the monster comes out in WttM. Agape is very ethereal and angelic, playing into his “Fairy” nickname quite well. Which he undoubtedly hates, but hey. I happen to enjoy it. In the end, the “Punk” nickname comes out on top, anyway - WttM cemented that pretty solidly.
Yuri: “Agape... unconditional love. To me, that means grandpa.”
With that said, I don’t think Agape is that outlandish a choice for him. He did find his “agape” in his grandpa, after all. It takes him a little while to realize it - and even longer to really embrace it - but it’s a perfect example of unconditional love. It’s when he’s with his grandpa that we get to see what he’s like underneath all the prickly bullshit. He may not form relationships easily, but I think when he loves someone, he really loves someone. Maybe not unconditionally, but it’s obviously a mistake to think he doesn’t feel things besides anger and arrogance. Aside from the scenes where he’s with (or thinking about) his grandpa, he also shows this side of him when he goes out of his way to bring Yuuri pirozhki on his birthday and in his friendship with Otabek, who he actually roots for in spite of their inherent rivalry. Honestly, that’s a post of its own for another day, but I think it’s worth mentioning.
Yuri: “Sorry, grandpa. I'm too busy trying to skate the program to really think about agape at all!”
At Yuri’s first performance of Agape at Hasetsu, his performance is technically correct, but the “agape” feeling isn’t there, and he winds up losing to Yuuri. The next time we see it, at the Rostelecom Cup, he’s thrown off when he discovers his grandpa can’t stay to watch his performance and becomes angry, falling on a jump he hasn’t screwed up in a long time. In his inner monologue, he claims that he’s “not feeling agape at all.”
Despite the initial difficulty getting into it, though, Yuri nails Agape during the Final and manages to break Victor’s world record short program score. If he was simply going through the motions, stringing together jumps and spins, he would not have scored as highly as he did. This isn’t to say he doesn’t employ strategies to maximize his points (like backloading programs and doing Tano/Rippon jump variations, aka the thing where you raise one/both arms in the air), but there are elements of IJS scoring that focus on presentation - the program components score, which includes the following:
Performance/Execution: Performance is the involvement of the skater/couple/teams physically, emotionally and intellectually as they translate the intent of the music and choreography. Execution is the quality of movement and precision in delivery.
The performance aspect of this score includes “style and individuality/personality.” In addition, choreography is scored based on things like “purpose (idea, concept, vision)” and interpretation is based on the following:
Effortless movement in time to the music
Expression of the music's style, character, rhythm
Use of finesse to reflect the nuances of the music
Needless to say, if Yuri wasn’t able to pull off the concept of Agape, his scores would have suffered. It can certainly be argued that it’s just the performer in him that gets the job done, but I think the fact that he becomes able to infuse his own feelings into the program is what closes the gap.
Lilia: "His short program will have 'agape' as its theme. I believe he's found an entrance to 'love' through his many encounters with others. People shine brightest when they seek to understand what kind of love sustains them."
He may not like it - indeed, when left to his own devices, he does things like WttM, which could not be more different from Agape - but it works. They both do, somehow. He really does make Agape his own, and it’s completely believable.
...Well. Mostly.
#yuri on ice#yuri plisetsky#agape#in regards to love: agape#on love: agape#why are there so many goddamn titles for this song#some semblance of meta i guess#mine
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