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cheerycherrycandy-resurrected · 8 months ago

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What You've Done, You Cannot Undo (Medieval AU)

Chapter 4

Dew tries to protect his pack, but it's harder than he anticipated.

Rating: M Content: mild descriptions of violence and death, injury, peril, (wrongful) imprisonment Words: 4130

Links to full fic: Tumblr | AO3

Hello tag alert ghesties @revengeghoulette @everybodyshusband! If anyone wants to be added/removed from this list just lmk! 🥰

Read below, or on AO3!

Ghouls were functionally immortal creatures, even when they lived topside in clans or amongst humans. They were immune to most diseases and any accident or natural disaster would simply return them to the pit, unharmed. Ghouls who failed to care for their vessels through starvation and neglect would meet the same fate. Life was easier down below, albeit less enjoyable, with many elderly ghouls choosing to return voluntarily. Despite all of this when there was intent to kill, ghouls were just as mortal as humans.

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Dew burst through the door to the cottage, almost ripping it off his hinges. Before he had a chance to warn his packmates of what he'd seen, he was met with an equally concerning sight: Swiss was sat at the kitchen table, head in his hands and whimpering in pain. Mountain was knelt in front of him trying to coax his hands away from his face, while Aether had returned and was hovering behind him looking lost and panicked.

"What's happened?” Dew almost shrieked, surprising himself at the pitch of his voice.

“Swiss had a vision,�� Aether wrung his hands anxiously, “Nothing specific, but look how it's left him!”

Swiss let out a deep wail, like the mournful bellow of a whale. His tail curled around Aether's calf, constricting tightly and making the ghoul wince in pain.

“It hurts, Aeth! Make it stop!”

Aether frantically locked eyes with Mountain.

“I can't give him any more quintessence, he'll go mad!”

“Please calm down Snapdragon, try and breathe!” Mountain looked near tears himself.

Together, the huddle of terrified ghouls followed each other's shaky breaths until Swiss was able to speak clearly.

“Something's very wrong, all I can see is pain! But I don't know who's!”

“It's Rain,” Dew panted, “Something's wrong with Rain, I saw it. Dark clouds over Wilkins’ farm, his magic must have got out of control!”

The three larger ghouls looked at him in confusion.

“What do you mean, lost control?” Mountain asked, “Rain's not got enough power to lose control of yet.” he looked at Dew sternly, “He's perfectly capable of moistening a field or two on his own, no matter what you think of him. This has to be something else.”

Dew shook his head furiously.

“There are storm clouds over Farmer Wilkins' that aren't natural, they've got to be from Rain!”

"Swiss' vision...” muttered Aether, “if it's all connected...”

“Then we have to get out of here.” finished Dewdrop, “Someone's got to go and find him before the humans do!”

"Maybe we should keep a low profile until we know what's happening?” Mountain suggested. “Swiss is in no state to move right now, it's probably just an unexpected summer storm.”

“If we rush over all guns blazing it will attract even more attention that a freak rainstorm, then we'd all be in danger.” Aether said, nodded slowly in agreement. “Rain won't be back for ages anyway, he only just left.”

Dew looked between his packmates, appalled. They were happy to just wait things out when their most vulnerable packmate could be in danger? Maybe it was residual guilt over his comments that morning, but Dewdrop felt he had a responsibility to ensure the young ghoul's safety. They were pack, after all.

“So you're just going to sit here?” the silence from the larger ghouls was all Dew needed to hear. If they were prepared to just sit and wait until Rain was due home before doing anything, he would have to fix this himself. Dew turned on his heel and bolted back out the door he had just entered through, his golden hair swinging behind him the only response to the upset shouts of his packmates.

Dewdrop set off into town, jogging along the hedgerows to stay hidden. The sun overhead taunted him, belying the icy fear in his veins. As he got closer to town Dew ducked into the shadows, creeping through alleyways to stay hidden. Nearer the centre, he picked up Rain’s scent. His normally sweet essence of kelp and lemongrass was acrid and burned, the smell of fear unmistakable.

Scaling a wall, Dew leapt lightly down into the courtyard behind the town hall which was thankfully empty. Rain's scent was strongest here. He followed his nose across the area, staring in confusion up at the seemingly blank wall next to the building where the wafting smell of terror was so strong it made him feel nauseous. Looking around, wondering what could be behind it and if Rain could be there, he noticed a small metal grill at floor level. Dew crouched down to peer into the darkness and the continued stench of fear combined with filth and decay coming from inside made him retch.

His eyes adjusted slowly to the darkness, until he could just make out the shapes inside. Curled up and chained to the far wall, was Rain. He was clutching his knees to his chest and gently rocking back and forth. Dew couldn't make out many details, but he could see the silhouette of Rain's unglamoured horns cast by the dim column of light from above.

“Rain!” Dew whispered. Rain made no sign of acknowledgement and continued his absent swaying.

"Rainy!” Dew hissed, louder this time. He saw Rain's ears twitch, and he turned his head to look at him. Even in the darkness, Rain's eyes were dim and blank. One clearly had a deep purple bruise around it, the eyelid swollen almost shut. He stared straight through Dew, without seeing him.

“Oh Rain, what have they done to you!” Dew whimpered instinctually at the sight of the broken and injured ghoul. “I'm going to get you out, okay? Hang in there, you're going to be alright!”

He pushed a soothing scent towards Rain, trying to comfort him. Rifling through his pockets, Dew found a small amount of dried fish wrapped in paper; his uneaten snack from that morning. He wriggled a hand through the iron bars, grateful for once that his arms were skinny enough to fit and tossed the little package towards Rain. It landed close to the water ghoul, his tail snaking out to prod at it when his chained arms couldn't reach.

“It's fish, eat it. I'll bring you more I promise!”

Getting to his feet, Dew brushed the dust from his knees while he considered his surroundings some more. The only way out of the courtyard was through the town hall itself, or back over the wall. He could melt the bars and get Rain out that way, he was just skinny enough to fit through the opening, but there was no way Rain had the strength to climb the wall alone in his state, and Dew wasn't capable of hauling them both up. He'd need to find another way out, or get the others to help.

Dew bent down again to whisper through the gap quickly, “I'm gonna find a way out Rain, I'll be back soon!” He gave what he hoped was an encouraging wave and jogged lightly over to the big oak door. It was tempting to try the main handle, but Dew knew that getting himself caught wouldn't help either of them. At least he would have the element of surprise though...

Forcing himself to consider other options before making the rashest, most impulsive decision, Dew spotted another small window, this one a floor higher up but without metal bars. The building thankfully had large gaps between bricks, just enough to form a few risky footholds. The rough edges of the stone were cold and foreboding under Dew's fingertips, but he eventually got hold of the windowsill. Dew pulled himself onto the narrow ledge, his skinny arms straining and his feet scrabbling against the rough stone, sighing in relief when he saw the inside of the room. It was a latrine, and even better it was unoccupied. Dew shimmied through the small opening and dropped to the floor below. He was in.

The tiny room was dark, the deep brown panelling on the walls and floor absorbing the small amount of light that filtered in the window behind Dew. He pressed his ear to the door and, hearing nothing, slipped into the corridor. The whitewashed walls stretched in both directions, a number of moulded arched alcoves thankfully providing him with some cover. The ceilings were high here, and the cold stone made every footstep echo.

Dew had only been in the large building once before, but he remembered where the main council room was, where he expected the townsfolk would be discussing Rain’s fate. He crept along the hallway, ears pricked like a guard dog, until the murmur of voices could be heard in the distance. Dew pressed himself into an alcove, behind a spindly plant that had seen better days. When it was clear the voices were not getting closer, he inched closer to them to try and pick out words.

Emerging from the long hallway, Dewdrop found himself in the open expanse of the staircase. The ceiling here was even higher, a peak in the centre supported by numerous crossing wooden beams. A vicious draft wafted up the cold stone stairs. Windows high in the wall cast beams of sunlight down onto the stairs, reflecting off the white lime walls in a way that made Dew feel very exposed where he stood.

The sound was clearly coming from the large chambers on the ground floor. He knew that the stairs led directly down into the main meeting hall, and walking down would be tantamount to the grand entrance of a bride at a wedding. He crouched out of sight at the top of the stairs and let the conversation drift to him.

“I always said they’d be trouble! How do you expect any of us to sleep soundly knowing these monsters live amongst us?”

“They’ve always been benevolent until now, maybe this was an accident?”

“Three people are dead Marcus, even if it was an accident he’s not safe to have around our children!”

Three people were dead? Well shit, thought Dewdrop, we really are fucked.

“What if this flood was just the start of it? We need to stamp out this witchcraft before they kill us all!”

“I say we hang him, and the rest too! Burn down the farm, and rid ourselves of these demons that walk the earth. If this is what the weakest one can do, what are the others capable of?”

“We owe it to ol’ Mr Wilkins after what that monster did to his daughter!”

“All in favour of hanging the demon?”

A chorus of ayes made Dew’s blood run cold.

A week. They'd given Rain a week. The mob had demanded time to plan their hanging day celebrations and to try and capture the rest of the ghouls too, or at least run them out of town first. They clearly didn't understand pack loyalty: once Aether, Mountain and Swiss finally realised Rain was directly threatened, pack instincts to protect would take over and they would fight to the death. Dew had to get back to the farm and tell the others; maybe now they would believe him.

The ruckus downstairs providing cover for his echoing footsteps, Dew turned and bolted back along the corridor. He debated squeezing back out the window he had entered through, but at the last moment he remembered he had meant to find Rain some food. And water: as a water ghoul he was especially susceptible to dehydration. Judging from the sounds echoing up the stairs, Dew expected all the building's occupants would be down there for a while longer. He started trying doors at random, hoping to find one with some supplies he could steal.

The first door Dew tried opened easily. Inside was a small library, the books mostly covered in a thick layer of dust as very few of the villagers were able to read. From a quick glance, it seemed most of the books pertained to the laws of the land, and historical records of the town. Dew spun back out of the room and tried the door opposite. It was locked, but that posed no issue to Dew as he effortlessly melted the latch.

This room contained haphazardly stacked ledgers of documents and a small writing desk, empty for now. The window was cracked open, letting the warm summer breeze in, but Dew could still smell the recent presence of a human. He scanned the room carefully, his eyes eventually landing on a small woven basket under the desk. Dew pounced for the basket, ripping the cloth covering off to reveal the bounty inside. Food: lots of it. Clearly clerical work was hungry business. Dew snatched up the fruit, meat pies and small wax-covered cheese, filling his pockets. He also grabbed the full waterskin and took off back out the door.

The noise from the main hall was beginning to quiet, the mass of intermingled voices separating into distinguishable conversations as the townsfolk dispersed. Dew made a break for it, before he was caught too. As he hurled himself from the office, back in the direction of the small bathroom, he heard one conversation becoming louder, two sets of footsteps echoing up the stone staircase at the end of the corridor. He slammed the door to the latrine shut not a moment too soon, and braced himself against it to hold it shut as he heard the men get closer and eventually pass by.

Dew let out a shaky breath and hoisted himself up to the window. He stuck his head out to check the courtyard was still empty, before wriggling back through it and letting himself fall to the ground. His ankle rolled as he landed, making Dew hiss out a stream of curses, but he knew he had to move fast to get out of here. Bending down to the small opening above Rain's jail cell, Dew saw him look up at the noise with more recognition in his eyes this time. Clearly the morsel of food had helped shake him from his shock. Dew fed the stolen lunch items through the window bars, tossing them in range of Rain as best as he could. Once again, the water ghoul's thick blue tail snaked around them to bring the food to him. Lastly, Dew lowered the waterskin down, desperately hoping it wouldn't burst as it landed. It didn't, and Dew was pleased to see Rain immediately open it and take a deep gulp.

“I'm going to get the others, Rain. We're gonna get you out of here!” He didn't have the heart to tell him about the sentence the townsfolk had just decided on; it wasn't like the knowledge would make any difference anyway. Dew chose not to acknowledge the inherent selfishness of keeping Rain's proposed fate a secret from him, as dark eyes stared back up at him almost accusingly. The disconnect still present in them made it hard for Dew to tell if Rain was fully with him or not.

“Look after yourself Rainy, I'll be back as soon as possible.”

With a final encouraging smile, or at least that's what Dew was aiming for – it felt more like a grimace to him, he scurried back across the courtyard and over the wall, his ankle protesting the whole way. He was more cautious on his way back, and even more careful to stick to shadowy alleys and stay out of sight. As he finally reached the dirt road leading out of the village to their farm, he had to resist the urge to sprint headlong back to his pack. It was too exposed for comfort; he could be seen by anyone on the road for a mile in each direction, and the shooting pains lancing up his leg begged him to be careful until Aether could heal him.

An agonising half hour later, Dew limped up to the farm door. He had snapped a branch from one of the hedgerows he slunk behind to use as a makeshift crutch, but he could feel the swelling getting worse nonetheless.

“Dew! You're back,” Mountain exclaimed as he stumbled through the door, “I think you might be right – Rain still isn't back, and Swiss's visions are getting worse!”

Dew gritted his teeth against the urge to tell Mountain he told him so – that wouldn't help Rain right now. He didn't know what would.

“They've got Rain. We have a week to break him out before they kill him. Are you ready to listen to me now?” his voice broke into a snarl at the end as he tried to hold back his tears of helplessness tinged with guilt.

“Dewdrop?” Aether reappeared in the kitchen and paused as he saw Dew leaning against the doorframe in pain, and Mountain frozen in shock.

“Get Swiss.” growled Dew, “I'm not repeating myself again.”

Aether nodded quickly before vanishing back deeper into the house. He returned moments later with a drained-looking Swiss clutching his arm.

“Rain's in the town jail. They want to hang him next week.” Dew was struggling to keep his composure, every word shook.

Aether went as white as a ghost, staring at Dew like he had grown an extra head. He stumbled as Swiss collapsed against him with a howl.

"W-what happened?” Mountain asked.

“It's worse than I thought. He flooded Wilkins' field, it killed his daughter and two others. And then he went full gills-out ghoul on them all.”

“How? He can barely make a ripple in a puddle, let alone cause a deadly flood!” the earth ghoul looked to the others as though for confirmation that Dew must be exaggerating, but they were still staring at Dew in silent horror.

“I don't know! Something must've happened, and I think it broke his glamour – he's sat in a cell under the town hall with his tail and horns still out!”

“You spoke to him?” Swiss looked up with hopeful eyes, shining with unshed tears.

“I don't know if he heard me,” Dew sniffed back the beginnings of a sob, “he's completely out of it. I got him to eat a bit, but I don't know if he even recognised me. Something bad happened, something really bad, and the townsfolk are coming for us next!”

“We have to go and get him...” Aether finally murmured.

“That's what I've been trying to tell you!” frustrated, Dew almost yelled. “We don't have time to ask about the whys and hows, we're all in danger. We need to get Rain and get out, now!”

The slightly frantic nodding of his packmates told Dew that – finally – they realised the severity of the situation. Dew pushed off the doorframe to start gathering their belongings to leave and hissed in pain as he put weight through his bad ankle.

“You're hurt too?” Aether looked like his world was collapsing around his ears. Dew guessed it sort of was.

“Just my ankle,” he gave it a test wiggle, “I rolled it earlier, I think it's a sprain.”

Aether ushered him into a chair, picking his boot laces undone, before laying his cool hands onto the enflamed joint. Dew sighed at the relief, moaning as he felt the burning from the injury dissipate throughout his body and evaporate away until only a dull ache remained.

“Take it easy Dew,” he begged, still on his knees in front of Dewdrop, “I can't have you hurt too!”

Dew nodded noncommittally; he could take it easy when they were all safe. He looked around at his packmates and had a horrible realisation about the futility of their current situation. Aether and Mountain, the natural pack-leaders, sat shell-shocked and totally at odds with their normal calm and controlled personalities, Swiss was barely able to speak and still being rocked with aftershocks of his visions, and now Dew was slowed down by an injury. How on earth were they going to stage a rescue mission and escape unscathed? Someone was going to get hurt. If they all shared an element it would have been easier: they could have overwhelmed the town while remaining unaffected themselves. Sure, Dew could burn down the whole village, razing every building to the ground, but it would harm Rain in the process. They needed help.

Thinking on his feet, Dew knew who he could ask. He had sworn he'd never go back; his new life was a world away now, but he couldn't see any other solution where they didn't all end up dead.

“We have to get moving, before the village comes for us.” Dew declared, “Aeth, Mount, go and gather all the plants and herbs you need for basic potions, and some vegetables that will keep. Me and Swiss will sort stuff in here.”

The pair paused, not used to taking orders from Dew. They looked cautiously at Swiss, still zoning out at the table, until Dew made shooing motions outside with his hands, silently pleading with them to fall for his plan and leave.

“I'm gonna grab a few things from upstairs, you good to stay here for a moment?” Dew received only a small nod from Swiss in return, as he grabbed as his head and groaned from the onslaught of another wave of pain.

He took the stairs two at a time before bursting into his bedroom. He grabbed a sheet of paper from the desk and scrawled a quick note, addressing it to his packmates. Stuffing that into his pocket, Dew next set about prying up the loose floorboard on the far side of his bed. This was the only place he allowed himself to hold onto memories of his life before, and the small collection of items had been untouched since the day Dew put them there. He took the battered diary and the metal amulet from underneath it, and neatly placed them in the bottom of a knapsack. On top of them, he threw a change of clothes.

Dew cast one last look around the room he had called home, and closed the door. There was nothing left he couldn't replace; the most precious things in his life were his pack. As an afterthought, he ducked into Mountain's room and took a leatherbound notebook from his writing desk. Him and Aether had been collating an anthology of medicinal plants together over the last several years, it would be unforgivable to let that suffer whatever fate the townsfolk had planned for their house. It could also be a useful bargaining chip: where Dewdrop was headed, knowledge ruled far above gold.

Just before he went back downstairs, Dew saw Rain's door open at the end of the hallway. He'd barely been here a year, yet the whole room was so distinctly his. Shells and rocks he had collected dotted every available surface, the transparent ones thew rainbows across the walls from the sun that poured through the window. Dewdrop knew which one Rain would want saved; a pale stone with tiny fossils embedded in it, polished smooth by millennia of water flowing over it. He'd had it in his pocket when he'd arrived, his only material possession besides the clothes on his back. Dew didn't know what made it special, only that was. He tucked it carefully into the knapsack beside his own amulet.

He barrelled back down the stairs. Swiss was still at the table, and barely looked up when Dewdrop re-entered.

“Swiss? You in there?” the larger ghoul looked up through dark eyelashes. The mental pain from his visions swirled across his eyes, the normally deep amber colour muted and foggy.

“You need to remember your guitar, okay? Go and fetch it now.”

Like a puppet, Swiss lurched to his feet and in the direction of the living room. Dew snatched the last heel of Mountain's bread from that morning off the table, placing the brief letter he had written in its place. He quickly opened the pantry and threw as much dried meat and fruit as would fit into the top of his bag, maybe a day or two's supply if he was careful. Lastly, he filled a waterskin, shrugged on the knapsack, and headed out the door.

Dew could hear Mountain and Aether's voices from around the other side of the house by the herb garden. He walked quietly and quickly towards the gate, refusing to allow himself time to feel guilt for abandoning them like this; they could curse his name until the air turned blue, but if he could save them then that wouldn't matter. Once he was sure he was out of earshot and his footfalls wouldn't be heard, Dewdrop spared a single glance behind him at the place he had been proud to call home and broke into a run.

#what you've done you cannot undo #cw angst #cw injury #cw imprisonment #cw violence #mild but still there #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #foot of the gallows marriage #medieval au #historical au #enemies to lovers #ghost #ghost bc #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul #raindrop #ghost fanfiction #em writes

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ericdeggans · 1 year ago

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When your job is explaining race and media, what happens when you find a situation you don't want to explain?

That moment came for me this week, as memes were rocketing around social media connected to the brawl in Montgomery, Ala., where a crowd of mostly-Black bystanders ran to help a Black ferry co-captain who was being assaulted by a group of white men.

Video filmed by a group of mostly-Black bystanders on a nearby boat captured it all: The co-captain throwing his hat in the air, once a white man pushed him harshly; an older Black man whaling on people with a folding chair, including a white woman who was just sitting on the ground by then; a young Black man on a boat close by who jumped into the water and swam with amazing speed to the scene, jumping up to throw hands.

And, in moments, Black Twitter jumped to life (I know he’s renamed it X, but we ain’t recognizing that, and the term refers to people being Black across social media anyway. Harrumph).

There was the quiz asking which folding chair are you? There was the graphic pointing out that an early version of the folding chair was invented by a Black man (seems to be true). The photoshopped picture showing glowing rings around Black folks rushing into the fight, mimicking the climax of Avengers Endgame, where superheroes rushed in to save the day. Images dubbing the young swimmer Black Aquaman, Aquamayne and Blaquaman.

And two of my personal faves: A photoshopped image of the Martin Luther King Jr. statue holding a folding chair. And a version of the brawl video remade as the opening to classic Black sitcom Good Times, with acerbic credits noting the show was “created by Consequences and Repercussions.”

I was blown away by how quickly Black folks across social media were converting horror over a narrowly averted, racialized beat down into funny memes celebrating the reflex of Black folks to stand up for one another, especially when we’re faced with danger from white people.

But when I posted the photo of MLK’s status with the folding chair on my social media feeds, I just added one word: Wow.

I wanted the image to speak for itself. And I wanted people who had questions about what it meant to jump into social media and find out for themselves. I felt the image and its implied humor – that the nation’s most revered civil rights leader might be hoisting a folding chair to defend Black folks in the modern age – was most powerful when not explained.

Unfortunately, some people on my social media platforms insisted on an explanation. One was pretty persistent about it. And I realized I just didn’t want to explain the image, for some reason I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

Yeah, it’s sometimes tiring to always be asked to explain your cultural nuances to the world. But that’s the gig I signed up for, many years ago. And yes, the joking was hiding a fear that today’s climate has left racists emboldened enough to attack a Black man in broad daylight for doing his job. So explaining only resurfaces those darker feelings in ways I wasn’t quite ready to process.

Still, something else was also at play. I always say social media is often like a giant dinner party, where people forget they are sometimes listening in on conversations between other people. In this case, being asked to explain the folding chair memes felt like having someone barge into an ongoing conversation to ask for an explanation. This was a moment where Black folks could be hilariously Black online and we could all share that moment together, laughing and consoling each other in one viral, social media moment.

Sometimes, in situations like that, understanding comes best by sitting back, listening widely and learning. Even for me.

I don’t know if this reaction is fair – especially given how much I’ve encouraged discussion about race over the years. But its all I have left, in a world where I increasingly feel like a frog in pot of steadily heating water, wondering when the heat will begin to burn me, my loved ones, my family, my friends and my people.

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sapphicscholar · 6 months ago

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wait can you elaborate on your tag about the conditional tense a couple tags ago i’m so curious

Oh sure! For posterity's sake when my TL gets too long to scroll back, this is the post/my tags (link)!

So okay, in the left hand column we've got this absolutely touching, lovely scene of Ava telling Deborah, "I knew you would" (that is: I knew you'd get the late night host gig). And imo that's something that Ava can believe and feel and experience as true, but it's 100% not the way Deborah lets herself feel--and, more importantly to me, not the way Deborah as we know and love her in canon finds pleasure. Hers is an existence that is, in so many ways, affectively opposed to the pregiven and the easily won. The pleasure comes in the fought-for and the hard-won (akin but not identical to the way JPL describe Ava's S3 challenge to Deborah as arousing and a turn-on, which I fear would spin me off in other directions).

I'll preface this by saying: I don't think this was always the case! The young Deborah we glimpse during her meteoric rise to stardom was absolutely filled with joy and wonder at making it. Yes, she was good, but she was also lucky--something she's better able to recognize by the time we get to canon where she can recognize that Ava might be good, but know better than to think that it'll ever be enough. Young Deborah dared to believe there was an indexical relationship between talent/effort and rewards. She knew she was good, she knew her pilot went well, and she didn't (wouldn't!) dream of it all collapsing the way it did. Older Deborah knows better than to ever think things will come that easily. Because she knows (whether or not we agree with it) that things that come too easily can all too easily be ripped away from her, the rug pulled out from under her feet all over again.

So instead she adopts this defensive posture of always needing to be chomping at the bit for the next big thing. (Her white whale is an ever-moving target!) It's why she tells Ava in S2 that she'll be working til she's 107. It's why Ava tells Deborah in S3 that she's bored, rather than luxuriating in the afterglow of the special's success, because she always needs something to fight for (and, imo, also against).

Deborah needs the uncertainty inherent in the conditional tense - the feeling that there's something she could have, but no guarantee she'll be given it, so she has to fight and work hard and often also play dirty (erasing Susan's name, blackmailing Marty, etc.). And she likes it that way! Because if something is won too easily, it gives way to this anticipatory rehearsal of the pain of losing Late Night all over again. And so even if it works out, it's a deflationary kind of happiness, fleeting and not quite satisfying. But if she's clawing and fighting for it, she's in control. While the opportunity may be theirs to ultimately bestow or deny, the fight is always on her terms, not theirs.

Anyway, this is already so many paragraphs lmao, so I'll stop now! But I'll just flag that (for whenever I get around to fully writing and posting), this is why my post-s3 fic takes the shape that it does! Because I think this attitude bleeds out into so much of Deborah's life!

#ask me anything #anon #hacks hbo #deborah vance #my meta

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even-in-arcadia · 2 years ago

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Chapter 56, Some Less Erroneous and Also Some True Pictures of Whales

Now that we're all on board with what whales don't look like, it's time to learn about what they DO look like and who hasn't failed at showing us! I will once again put most of the art under the cut; but I think one of the most interesting things that these two chapters show us are

how bad 19th century artists and scientists were at depicting whales - and in compiling this post I saw so many terrible whale drawings Ishmael didn't even call out. Ishmael was right you guys, the whale art scene was absolute chaos back then

most of the art ishmael calls out as "monstrous" is of whales themselves, depicted in either a mythic or scientific perspective. however *all* of the depictions he deems "less erroneous" are actually not of whales of but of whaling which feels like a crucial distinction. Part of it is because none of these whales are depicted in whole, which gets back to Ishmael's contention that it is not actually possible to accurately portray them on paper. Only individual pieces can be correct, but by viewing them together you get an idea of the whole. But it's also that he says flat out that the only reliable source is in fact a whaler; and so necessarily the accurate depictions are of whales already dead or engaged with whaling ships.

Anyway! Just some prefacing thoughts for you. Now on to some less erroneous whales:

William John Huggins

2. Thomas Beale, The Natural History of the Sperm Whale (BEST)

3. William Scoresby, An Account of the Arctic Regions

Personally I think that calling this an accurate depiction is as hilarious as the empty boat flipped upside down in the air but I'm no whaler, what do I know

4. French Engravings (Peche du Cachalot) by Frederic Martens after Garneray

5. J H Durand-Brager, Balienier Francaise en Peche - The best versions of this I could find were in a German pdf (linked); I think these are what Ishmael was referring to.

Now if you're looking at these going "I don't see any whales???". . . . well, here they are. I feel like they're mostly less erroneous by virtue of being tiny.

Also it's important to me that you know that in my quest to find high quality versions of these, I found a site which claimed the painting on the left was called "Bringing In The Whale Whilst Others Look On Enviously" and while I don't know if that's correct (I don't think it is) it's a bitchin title and I will hold it as accurate in my heart.

And there you have it! Now we know what Whales Actually Look Like

#whale weekly #moby-dick #sure ishmael i guess #moby dick

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violetnerves · 2 months ago

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The Rise and Fall of Jenny Hopkins, aged 15 - Chapter 4, Part 1: Under Pressure.

Well this is embarrassing. It's been awhile, life happened and I also procrastinated. But I've got it done so here you go!

A bit of a slow chapter, it's mainly set up for part 2 besides the introduction to some of the original female characters meant to expand the female cast since there were very few girls at the Academy in the original game.

Word Count: 8,284

Some Content warnings that may apply:

-Jenny's got a bit of a case of internalized misogyny. I sorta hinted at it in earlier chapters but I tried to make it apparent here.

-Some foul language. I think I might've been too frivolous with it here, though considering the first chapter had the c-word in it I guess that's to be expected at this point.

I'll admit, I had a pretty nice day with Gary yesterday. Yeah, I didn't think I'd admit that to myself either, but I really did. Since I'm basically talking to myself, it's fine if I do. Not like anybody else is ever gonna read this.

Well… unless my dream of becoming a successful rockstar ends up panning out, and I decide to publish this diary, claiming it as my autobiography that I totally didn't just put out as an easy money grab. That isn't like me at all, I don't even like money that much!

Anyway, enough lying off my ass, I'm sure you're wondering what Gary and I got up to.

After we left Burgers right after Gary called me… pretty… he talked me into stealing a bike with him, and we rode through Old Bullworth Vale, specifically the neighborhood where all the Preps lived. It was some weirdly laid out cul-de-sac, rather than some kind of gated community like I would've expected. Many of the houses did have a large metal fence and gate surrounding them though, with Tad Spencer's even having an extra fence just to enclose the garage.

Gary pointed out Derby, Tad's and Pinky's house, as well as Petey's house since he apparently lived in the area too. For some reason he felt the need to point out how Petey's house was only one story, and how the only reason they lived there was because Pete's mom is an obese whale who'd fall through the floor of any building higher than ground level. I had to wonder what that kid even did to Gary to make him feel the need to insult him all the time, even when he wasn't around, and if Pete was even aware of the reason.

“So, where's your house then?” I asked out of curiosity, just casually peddling beside Gary on the side of the road as we made our way to Bullworth Town. “I noticed you didn't point it out, do you live out of town or are you from a different state and just familiar with the area from attending the Academy for so long?”

Gary didn't answer my question immediately, despite staring at me the entire time.

It was really starting to annoy me. It was bad enough that he felt the need to call me pretty (If he hadn't bought me lunch, I probably would've slugged him in the face right after he'd said it.) but now with the staring?

“Gary, could you quit staring at me like that? It's weirding me out.”

The guy looked like he'd been caught red-handed committing a crime, his eyes widening as we stopped by the entrance to the park not too far from the fast food place we'd eaten at earlier. He tried to give a response, eyes darting around as he clearly didn't have a good explanation, and only managed to blurt out:

“I wasn't staring at you.”

I rolled my eyes, instead changing the subject back to asking where he lived.

“So? Where do you actually live?” I asked once more, my tone a bit bitchier than I intended it to come out. Understandable given his behavior.

Just… God, why did he have to call me pretty? That's the last thing I ever wanted to be. I didn't want to look attractive to anyone, that would make me more of a target than I already was just for being born a girl at all.

I bet ugly guys don't have to deal with bullcrap like this. Dammit, why couldn't I have just been born a dude!

Then again, I guess it could be worse. He could've said something stupid like, oh I don't know, I love you or something. I didn't trust anyone except my mother to say that to me… even though I really couldn't remember the last time my mother had told me she loved me…

Whatever.

If Gary really had said that to me, I would've ditched him at Burgers and probably ditched school altogether.

I knew I could never, ever trust a man to say he loved me and actually mean it without some kind of catch.

It wasn't completely impossible for me to avoid going back to the Academy anyway, I'd once ran away from home for about a month and a half about two years ago in a really really dumb attempt to find my biological father. During that time, I'd taught myself how to drive, drank my first beer, and even realized that I was a little bit of a dyke. Good times.

Gary's demeanor flipped like a switch, and suddenly that nervousness from earlier was gone. He'd gone back to his usual confident self, it was almost like he hadn't been nervous at all.

How the hell did he even do that? First Gary's angry then chill the next second, then he's nervous and now he seems like he has everything under control? Man, I wish I could do that, maybe I'd be considered less of a bitch.

“Oh, me? My place is out of town and pretty isolated, it's about 30 miles North of Bullworth. Not really walking or biking distance. It's a manor, way bigger than Derby's mansion too… You know, I could invite you over sometime…” Gary said, leaning on his (stolen) bike in what I can only describe as… seductive… yet weirdly pitiful. Like he was trying to charm me, except he didn't seem confident about it. It kind of reminded me of Pete a little, though only the latter part. Pete was only charming in a pitiful way, like a kitten with a cold.

“I'm good, thanks,” I replied.

I expected Gary to try and push the topic, but he thankfully took the hint. Instead we headed into this place called “Old Bullworth Gardens” for a bit. It was just some park, there wasn't even any sort of garden around at all. Why even call it a garden if there wasn't anything besides trees around?

Gary got the idea of practicing my aim more with the slingshot by hiding in a tree and slinging pebbles at random passerby. I went through with it, because the idea sounded funny.

And you know what? It was.

He’d point out someone, and I'd aim at them and shoot. Didn’t matter if it was some old lady or a guy wearing shorts 2 sizes too small for him going out on a late mid-day run: either way, they got the gift of a pebble getting launched at their head. I tried to avoid hitting anyone in the eyes, but that was about it. It's not like a little pebble could kill anyone after all… It's a bit stupid to die from getting hit by a pebble.

…

Gary stood behind the tree I was in, letting out a quiet chuckle with every hit I managed to get.

Now that I think about it, describing his laughter as a chuckle didn't seem right, it was more comparable to a giggle. It was boyish and sweet, and it caught me off guard hearing it come out of the mouth of a guy like Gary. Especially since all I was doing was beaming people in the head with small pebbles. Maybe I was missing something, could it be something else that was causing it?

Maybe not, Gary was a bit of a weirdo. I knew that from the first time I'd ever spoken to him.

I wasn't exaggerating when I said Gary's weird giggling caught me off guard. A guy with crutches and a cast on his leg wobbled by, and, to my surprise, I accidentally released the slingshot’s flimsy rubber band. Instead of hitting the guy with the crutches, it hit a nearby wasp nest in a tree about a few feet away from the one I was in. The nest fell, and unfortunately for the couple having a picnic right underneath that same tree, it landed right between the two of them.

Gary's giggling turned into full on hysterical laughter as the couple screamed in terror and fled the gardens, trailed by a swarm of angry wasps.

Unfortunately, Gary's loud ass laugh got the attention of a nearby cop.

“Hey! What are you two doing out of school?! Don't think for a second about acting stupid, I see those uniforms!”

Gary seemingly didn't think twice about making a run for it without helping me out of the tree, but truthfully? I hardly blamed him.

I would've done the same thing really. A dick move, sure, but not one that I wouldn’t have done.

I scrambled down the tree and barely avoided the officer grabbing me as I sprinted off in the same direction as Gary, the cop still on my ass. As I shoved my slingshot back in my bag, I was stumped on how to get this guy off me… until I remembered something.

Behind the junk bus, just before I smashed its windows in, I spotted a plastic bag of marbles and shoved them in my purse as a keepsake. I wasn't sure why they were there, maybe some other student had dropped the bag or just stashed them there for who knows what reason.

I undid the tie on the bag and tossed it behind me without looking back, hearing the contents rattle out on the gravel crosswalk loudly. Next thing I heard was the even louder sound of a body hitting concrete, followed by a string of agonized curses. I didn't look back, but I still ended up barely holding back a laugh.

Just my luck, I actually ended up losing track of Gary. I briefly wondered if he and Davis were in the same Track team or something as I decided to run down toward the beach as the sun began to set on the horizon, turning the ocean from its natural blue color to a warm, saturated orange.

Looking at the water, I almost felt the temptation to dive in for some reason. It was stupid, I mean, it was October, and it was the beginning of Fall, the water was freezing… besides, I didn't even like swimming that much.

…Didn't help that one-piece swimsuits typically made for girls my size tended to be pretty ugly… and there was no way I was ever swimming in a bikini…

I stood at the top of the steps at the entrance to the beach, and as I made my way down to the sandbank below, I felt an odd sense of apprehension come over me. I looked around, but besides some of the townsfolk walking around town clearly minding their own business, there wasn't anything or anyone around that could've been the cause of the weird feeling.

Shaking my head, I stepped onto the beach and walked right, my gaze fixated on the light house.

I’d… never seen one of those so close up before. It seemed to be abandoned, the light at the very top unlit and the mechanism that made it spin wasn’t on either. Underneath it was a small building, connected to the main pier with a ramp leading up to what I assumed was the entrance to the place.

I’ll admit, I got a bit curious. Before I could actually satiate that curiosity however, I felt a pair of hands grab me from behind. One hand was on my mouth, while the other had a firm grip on my right shoulder.

I didn't waste any time reacting, slamming my elbow into whoever was grabbing me. He grunted, I could tell it was a guy from how deep the sound of it was. Before he could do anything I whipped around and grabbed his throat.

I didn't apply any pressure though… because I realized it was Gary. Even though my hands were wrapped firmly around his throat, the motherfucker was grinning. He let out this throaty, mild and short chuckle as he stared at me with his head lifted up.

My hands left his throat and I stared at him completely baffled. What the fuck was wrong with this guy?

Scratch that, I should've been asking a different question, something along the lines of what wasn't wrong with this guy. That would've been easier to answer…

…Like… I dunno, his tooth gap was kind of cute? I guess?

…

…Maybe seeing the school counselor wasn’t such a bad idea from Crabblesnitch after all. Seriously Jenny-girl, what the fuck is wrong with you? What the actual fuck? First you date a guy 5 years older than you back in 7th grade that ended up stabbing his aunt with a sharpened candy cane on the 4th of July, and now this shit?

You seriously need to get better taste in men.

Gary let out that weird giggle again, and I switched from being baffled to being pissed off.

“What’s so funny you moron? What were you thinking?!”

He kept chuckling, and I seriously considered actually strangling him when he finally spoke. What he said next only reinforced the thought.

“Awww… Did I scare you Jane? I was just trying to be funny, didn't think you'd try to strangle me like that. A bit of a psychotic response don't you think?” he spoke, smirking briefly with a short ‘heh’ before continuing, “Anyway… you wanna watch the sunset with me? I saw you looking at it beforehand so…”

What the hell was-

…

…Oh what the Hell, I was just repeating myself at this point.

It's like his constant weird behavior was tiring me out. Just one thing right after the other. None of it was enough to make me leave, instead, I found myself tolerating it.

For what reason? I didn't know, still don't.

So what did I do?

“...Sure Gary…”

I watched the sunset with him. Yes, seriously. It was pretty nice actually, he didn't even do anything weird for the rest of the day afterwards… Thankfully.

Aside from a comment he made about the sunset reminding him of my eyes. I rolled my eyes at that, giving him a firm and final “whatever.”

By the time we were ready to go, it was past curfew, so Gary and I headed back to the school. The Prefects that were patrolling around the school grounds for curfew dodgers were hardly an issue, not noticing as we slipped through a huge hole in the outer fence wall…

…Which we could've gone through earlier rather than hopping the fence…

Why didn’t we go through there earlier? I didn’t think to ask at the time since… well I was tired as hell at that point from all the action and Gary in general and just didn’t think about it at the time. I figure I should ask Gary about it later, but knowing me, I'll probably forget to do it. It's not like it's that much of a big deal anyways.

I did learn something new from Gary before we split up to go back to our respective Dorms for the night. The front doors of the dorms were locked up after curfew, so entering from there wasn't an option. Instead, there was a window that led straight into the attic of the girl's dorm, which for whatever reason was never closed. Aside from having to climb a lattice wall covered in overgrown vines just to get up to the window, I didn't have any issue sneaking back into the dorm, and back into my room.

No, I don't know why Gary knows about that entrance. Again… I was too tired to ask. To be honest, I don’t remember much else from that night, safe to say I was pretty checked out by that point. Weirdly, the last thing I remember that night before passing out was the sound of somebody puking their guts out, coming from the area where the bathroom was. Not sure what was up with that.

I woke up still wearing my school uniform. I even still had that origami flower Gary tied to my hair, which I'd figured would have fallen out with how loose I'd tied it, but apparently not.

Trisha was the one who woke me up by the way, not because she wanted to be annoying, but because if she hadn’t, I would’ve been late for class otherwise. Pretty cool of her, but I still ended up giving her shit for it anyway because I'm an absolute bitch with a capital b in the morning. Next chance I get I should probably apologize… If I remember to do it.

Didn't help that she asked about the flower, wondering where I'd gotten it and why I was wearing it in my hair. I practically ripped it out and shoved it into my section of the closet.

Despite all that, I think I was starting to tolerate Trisha at this point. It helps that she’s only mildly annoying, and not on purpose. Trisha's just… like that. Trisha doesn't go out of her way to be a dick, unlike pretty much everybody in this God forsaken school. Namely this one brunette - Mandy I think her name was? - who tripped Trisha on her way out of the Dormitory. I helped the fallen girl up and yelled at the girl in the cheerleader outfit, but Mandy just laughed and walked off. What a friggin bitch.

Trisha thanked me and we parted ways, and that was that.

I barely made it in time for Biology. It was… normal I guess? I already knew the teacher's name was Dr. Slaughter, and boy did his personality certainly match his name. He complimented me on my delicate knife work, but instead of feeling pretty good about the praise, it just weirded me out. I feel like he and that creepy janitor I've seen around campus who mumbles a lot hide dead bodies together after school.

I just so happened to be partnered up with Eunice for the whole thing, but she wasn't much help. She was pretty sensitive about seeing the frog's innards, and the most I could get her to do was pass the tools I needed and label the drawings of the organs on the sheet we were given. We did chat for a bit, mainly about the other girls at the school. Turns out Eunice was a bit of a gossip with a little bit of nudging.

I did get some info on the more prominent girls around the campus, since Gary neglected to actually fill me in on any of them earlier.

First of all, there was Marian Abbott, the Head Girl. Her family was British, but she was born in America so that meant pretty much nothing really. She's basically an American. She was in her senior year and admitted that she was aiming to go to Harvard, which Eunice thought was pretty believable given how seriously she took her studies… along with the fact that her dad was a billionaire who could easily afford the tuition. She didn't go out of her way to talk to people, but that didn't matter since people would go out of their way to talk to her. She was also technically a part of the Jocks clique since she was Head of the swim team, but there was another girl in the clique who was far more important than her.

Mandy Wyles, the head cheerleader. Why was she so important? Besides the fact that she was the head cheerleader? It was because her boyfriend, Ted Thompson, was the Captain of Bullworth's football team. Yeah, her popularity was solely because of a man, a boy really. That was what gave her status. She was otherwise a vapid bully, and constantly had her eyes on the Greasers clique leader rather than her actual boyfriend. She ruled the Girl's dorm with an iron fist, since she pretty much had Mrs. Peabody wrapped around her perfectly manicured finger. If a girl did something she personally didn't approve of or inconvenienced her in some way, she'd go crying to Peabody about it and the old hag would go out of her way to find something to punish the offending girl for.

Hearing that, I thought back to what Dr. Lamb said about Mrs. Peabody looking after the girls. Was she lying about that or delusional? I'd believe that second one, seems like a lot of people in this place have their heads up their asses or something, it'd explain everybody's crappy mood.

Heh.

Oh, and she apparently has an eating disorder or something like that, and she hid it by throwing up in either the Girl’s Dorms or gym bathrooms late at night or whenever there wasn’t anyone around. I guess that explained the puking I'd heard from the night before. Personally, I don’t think it could’ve happened to a nicer girl.

I’m sure if I said that aloud, you’d be able to hear the condescension in my tone.

Then there was Lola Lombardi, the top girl of the Greasers. Two guesses as to why that is.

That's right, It's because she's dating the leader of the Greasers, Johnny Vincent. Granted, she does have a bit of a girl posse going on with some of the other Greaser's girlfriends. Their little sub-group is pretty identical to their male counterparts, but a lot more subtle when it comes to their harassment, mainly because of Mrs. Peabody. Apparently Lola really, really hated any girl that admitted to wanting to hook up with her boyfriend. It probably would've been understandable, if it wasn't for the fact that Lola herself was a serial cheater. Every year since they'd first gotten together, Lola would cheat on Johnny with multiple guys, and her little gang would try to cover it up and make sure Johnny didn't find out about it. Except they must've been pretty bad at doing it, since Johnny would always end up finding out about his girlfriend playing hot potato with her and another dude's lips at least once, and it'd end pretty badly for whatever guy was smoochin’ Lola. Last year, one of those stupid and unlucky boys even ended up in a 3 month coma, but when the cops tried asking him how it happened and who did it, the kid couldn't even remember who had beaten him up to begin with, so Johnny and his boys got off scott free.

Oh, and despite the Greasers and Preps being rivals with one another, Lola has issues with Mandy Wyles rather than the main Prep girl, Pinky Gauthier. Mandy's been pretty upfront with wanting to get together with Johnny for a long time, but because of how close she is with Mrs. Peabody, Lola and her crew basically can't touch her, nevermind breathe the same air.

Speaking of Pinky, she's the main Prep girl. She's… pretty unremarkable. According to Eunice, she's not even mean to anyone, at least in comparison to the others at the Academy; At worst, she complains a lot and loudly about her ridiculously young step-mother, either because the other womans been borrowing her clothes or makeup or whatever without asking; apparently the last complaint was about the step-mom taking her limited edition Nintendogs metallic rose colored Nintendo DS. Initially, it seemed like she was pretty inoffensive, I thought I could’ve found some common ground with her by complaining about the annoying things my mom does… then I remembered she was dating her cousin, Derby Harrington. I dunno if I'd even want to associate with somebody like that.

While Pinky was the most prominent and popular girl of the Preps, there was another significant girl to be aware of.

Annette Caldwell.

Annette, as far as what Eunice has told me, is a ticking time bomb. She acts like she's all calm and collected, but if you were to wrong her in some way you'd never hear the end of it, at least these days. In the past, she used to be just kind of two-faced, speaking kindly of people only to talk shit about them behind their back; A coward basically.

But then her family started getting into financial trouble, the kind you couldn't easily get out of. Recently she's been trying to get Derby to date her, in what Eunice assumed was a way to get her family some financial security. Not that Annette getting with Derby was any better than him dating his cousin, because Annette was also his cousin; The rich of Bullworth seemed to be real connected with each other, which made me wonder why the Harrington's weren't already helping the Caldwell's out of their financial woes.

By the day, it seemed like she's been getting worse and worse, and I'm pretty sure it was her I'd heard yelling at the top of her lungs at someone from halfway across the main school building yesterday.

Could've just been some random girl, but the voice sounded like it belonged to some high-class snooty teenage girl that was having a mental breakdown, so I just assumed.

At the very bottom of relevancy was Beatrice Trudeau, main girl of the Nerds. I was sort of familiar with her… though, mainly her smell. I'm pretty sure I'd hurried past her on my way to Biology this morning, and that was enough to make me dislike her immediately. Seriously, has that girl ever heard of deodorant?

She was probably one of the few Nerds that actually seemed to care about her future beyond swearing that they'll be their bullies boss someday. She could often be found in the library after school like the rest of the nerds, but rather than playing Grottos and Gremlins, she'd have her face shoved in some kind of book along with a few of the other Nerd girls she got along with.

Even though I probably didn't really need the info, I ended up asking Eunice about Trisha and what her whole deal was. Mainly how she was even in the Bullies clique in the first place. Sure, Trent was her brother and that probably answered my question, but it still seemed strange that somebody like Russell would just allow her in given her… quirks...

Well, I was sort of right, but it was a bit more complicated.

See, Trisha Northwick considered herself… a witch. Seriously, she was 100% convinced she was some kind of magic girl in some book she liked, though she was pretty inconsistent about how her magic worked. Last year she got in trouble for taking all the salt from the cafeteria kitchen along with a shit ton of glitter from the art room and spreading it in a ring around the Boy's Dorm at 3 in the morning. When she got caught, she claimed that she was trying to cleanse the demons and evil spirits out of the Dorm, only to be told by Crabblesnitch that there weren't any demons in the Dorm, only the male students. She then tried arguing that the demons were obviously separate beings from the students that lived there, but that the salt circle would probably do them some good anyway by cleansing their souls and making them act nicer.

I kinda figured Trisha had a few screws loose, but this was something else. At least it seemed like her delusions were meant to be helpful, if still bafflingly ridiculous.

As for the whole Russell thing? Well, he was convinced of her whole witch delusion, and the only reason she was in his clique was because Trent told him that if he didn't let her join, Trisha would get upset and put a curse on him. It was kind of screwed up actually, Russell was obviously “slow”, and you could probably make the argument that the two were taking advantage of that.

Not that I cared really. That huge idiot gave me a bloody nose on my first day here, could've broken it too with how hard he'd hit me, so why should I be concerned with a nutcase and her bully of a brother taking advantage of his retardation?

Yeah, that's right. It's none of my damn business.

Plus, actually trying to do something to make the students around here act less like assholes, even if it is utterly delusional and wouldn't have actually worked, isn't a completely terrible idea. Obviously, though, there were… better ways to go about it.

Did I know of any specific one? Not really, but I assumed there was. Best I could think of doing was smacking anybody harassing me for something stupid. Gary probably had some ideas though.

After biology was lunch, but rather than stop by the lunchroom to get a whiff of whatever unholy dish that ogre was cooking up, I instead went straight towards the school counselor's office. I was told I could either visit during lunch or after the second class was over, and since I really just wanted to get this over with I decided lunch would be fine.

As of now, I’m sitting by Dr. Lamb’s office door with this dumb diary in hand, more or less stalling; My pen rolling in between my fingers as I press the tip to the paper, jotting down one last sentence.

Just get it over with Jen.

***

I shut the diary loudly and stuffed it back into my purse along with my pen. Usually I would've kept the holy grail of all my secrets and insecurities and secret insecurities somewhere more private than my purse, like burying it in the closet, but I didn't fully trust Trisha not to snoop around and find it. It was nothing personal, truthfully I'd do the same thing with pretty much any girl in this school. I’ve gotten my diary stolen before back at the third school I'd attended, the one in San Andreas.

Admittedly, the only reason it even happened was because I'd brought it to school in the first place, but since just leaving it at home wasn't an option here, keeping it in my purse was arguably safer; Especially since nowadays I could just beat up anybody stupid enough to run off with my bag.

My hand met the stainless steel door handle into Dr. Lamb's office and opened it, peeking inside to see her typing at her computer. She noticed me and waved with a warm smile.

“Oh! Hello Jane, nice of you to drop by!” Dr. Lamb said, her voice a bit weary. It didn't match her appearance, which was noticeably better than yesterday. I swear, it was like she'd gotten done having some kind of mental breakdown right before catching Gary and I jumping the fence. I'd ask, but I figured she'd ignore me or change the topic. It's what my mom would do, well, actually, mom tended to get mad more often than the other two, but Dr. Lamb didn't seem like that type of person.

I scanned the room itself. It was pretty boring, the only sense of Dr. Lamb’s touch seemed to be mostly restricted to her desk.

“Yeah, I kinda just wanted to get this over with. Gives me an excuse to skip lunch too,” I said, sitting in one of the office chairs set not too far from the front of her desk. I let my purse dangle on one of the chairs’ arms. I Continued with, “So, how are ya doing?”

Dr. Lamb gave me a look of concern.

“You mean you haven't eaten anything today? Did you at least eat something for breakfast?”

“Nothing besides a Beam cola. I'm not really interested in getting food poisoning on my first week of school.”

She sighed, in a way that sounded like she understood the terrible state of the food in the cafeteria but was still disappointed that I'd choose going hungry over just risking it and eating whatever looked the most edible thing on the menu.

“Well I can't just let you go hungry. Hold on, let me just get this out,” before I could tell her it was fine and that I was used to going hungry, she was already rummaging through her desk.

Dr. Lamb ducked down in her chair and I heard a drawer from behind her desk being opened up. As she rummaged through from wherever, I noticed the photo frames on her desk. She had a good number of photos but one stood out to me for whatever reason.

It was Dr. Lamb with a butch looking woman and a young girl, probably kindergarten age. The three were at some kind of beach, and the butch woman and Lamb were building a sandcastle with the girl, who I could guess was probably Dr. Lamb's daughter with how similar they looked.

My focus left the pictures and went back to Dr. Lamb, who set a fairly large black canvas lunch bag on her desk. She unzipped the top, and it turned out to have several baggies full of what appeared to be sandwiches wrapped up in napkins.

“I've noticed that a lot of the students around here seem to avoid eating the food in the cafeteria, so I figured I'd get permission to have the students in my afternoon Home Economics class make these sandwiches as a warmup while I get their assignment ready and hand them out. They're basically just PB and J sandwiches with banana slices in them, though I did make sure to include a few that's just jelly and banana, for the students that have a peanut allergy. Feel free to take one!”

My gaze shifted from the bag back to Dr. Lamb, and for some reason I couldn't help but to think back to what Gary had said about her.

"I mean, Lamb just seems like she's hiding something to me. She's a new hire, and I feel like she's just putting on this act of being all sweet and kind until she reveals who she really is…”

It's not like I hadn't been screwed over by a “nice” teacher before. I was still going to be careful, but I was kind of hungry, so…

“Thanks ma'am,” I replied, taking one of the bags and unwrapping the sandwich inside of it. Sure enough, it was just a plain, white bread PBJ, one of the banana slices peeking out between the two bread slices. Not like I was expecting anything spectacular, “It's better than nothing.”

Dr. Lamb smiled and zipped the bag up, putting it back where she'd pulled it out.

“Yes, it's far better than skipping a meal. Listen Jenny, that’s not the kind of habit you want to repeat, it could lead to an eating disorder. Teen girls around your age are particularly susceptible to developing them.”

“So I've heard,” I said. It's not like I was at risk of it. I just needed to cut back on the Beam colas, which I could do at any time. Y'know, if I ever felt like it.

Which wasn't anytime soon I don't think. Didn't mean I had a problem though obviously.

“I'm serious Jane,” Dr. Lamb replied, her tone sounding more like a stern parent than her usual soft spoken way of talking. Which didn't seem too out of place oddly enough, “Just try and eat the most edible thing on the menu, at least until after Halloween when they finally let you students roam the town.”

I groaned. I wasn't gonna be too mean, but I knew I had to be blunt.

“Listen, Lamb, there's nothin’ edible comin’ out of that lunchroom. It's like the food's being made by a lunch lady that's deliberately tryin’ to poison people. And given the amount of kids I've seen runnin’ out of the lunchroom just to puke their guts out in the garbage cans out in the hallway cause the ones in the lunchroom are occupied? She's doin’ a great job. Seriously, I think that Edna woman needs to be fired. Her cooking could probably be considered a war crime.”

Dr. Lamb gave me a look that outright said, ‘You're right, but you shouldn't say it,’ which meant she was definitely gonna get on my case about saying it in the first place.

Except she didn't. She changed the topic instead, and somehow that ended up being worse than her reprimanding me for just being honest.

“So I'd like to talk about what happened yesterday…”

“What the fight or Gary and I skipping school?”

“About - Waitaminute w-what fight?”

Shit, did I just tell on myself? I guess that explains why I hadn’t gotten called in for it. I guess getting beat up for the second time in a row by the new girl on her second day left them too embarrassed to say anything about it. Since I've already blabbed and it could get that asshole Davis into trouble, I decided to just tell her. It’d whittle their number down a bit more… Or I could get in trouble again…

“Uh, yeah. That Davis White kid shot a pebble at me and lured me into the Shop class area where the rest of his buddies were, and so I had to beat the crap out of them again. They did it cause they were mad about Trent and Russell getting in trouble.”

“Oh for fu-BUCK’S sake.”

I kinda just stared at the blonde woman as Lamb held her head in her hands, pressing her thin hands into her face. She mumbled up a storm and the few bits I could make out among the jumbled mess of words were: “Second day” “2 months” and “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph”. I wondered briefly if I should interrupt but figured that, with how run ragged she seemed to be yesterday, this school's craziness was starting to get to her. Gary had said she was new, and that was pretty obvious when compared to the other faculty who were either just another part of the school's madness or completely numb to it.

It'd be terrible to see that kind of thing happen to her, even if what Gary said about her was true.

The blonde woman grumbled a bit more before scratching her head and glancing at me again.

“I-it's fine… Though I will have to inform Dr. Crabblesnitch of this… But what I actually meant to talk about was the other incident. Concerning you and Gary hopping the main gate.”

I already figured that one was coming.

“Yes ma'am? What about it? I thought it was kinda weird how I didn’t get called into the office for it, figured you would've told Crabblesnitch by now. I wouldn't even really blame you for doing it, protocol and all that nonsense,” I said, finally opening up the bagged PBJ I'd been offered to dig into.

“I did, at least as soon as I could do it. I actually did it this morning.”

I raised an eyebrow at that.

“This morning?” I said, the surprise in my tone apparent, “You mean you didn’t do it right after you caught us?”

She shook her head.

“No, I'd planned on it but I kept running into distractions throughout the day. It was my turn to patrol the school grounds along with Mr. Galloway, but unfortunately he seemed to be preoccupied with… something else… so it was just me and one of the Prefects at the time. It's why I was out there to see you two climbing the gate. It was just one thing after another; I needed to attend my afternoon Home Economics class. One boy shoved a firecracker down another boy's pants during shop class and it triggered the shop class teacher's PTSD. A fight broke out in front of the Boy's Dorm…” The blonde’s eyes unconsciously landed on me, and I had to hold back an eye roll so she wouldn't notice. “Again…” Lamb just kept going and going with all the stuff that went down while Gary and I were out on the town yesterday, and I briefly wondered if stuff like this happened on the regular. Did the school board or whoever was in charge of monitoring schools know about any of it?

Eventually Dr. Lamb got to the point, “I did catch you two going back to the school grounds later on in the day on my way home, but I still made sure to inform Dr. Crabblesnitch of the incident this morning...”

“Wait, if you told him then how come I wasn't called up to the office for it?” I replied with a mouthful of PBJ.

“Because he had already been informed of the incident by Gary.”

I blinked, swallowing the bit of sandwich I had so I could ask clearly. But I found it a bit hard to speak. Gary had said something? He'd admitted it? I mean, I guess he'd have to since we'd been caught but I hadn't taken him for being such a casual snitch.

Given we seemingly hadn't gotten in trouble for it though… maybe he'd had the right idea.

“Gary admitted it?” I asked, as if for some reason I needed to confirm what Dr. Lamb just told me barely a second ago, “What exactly did he tell Dr. Crabblesnitch then besides that? Because, well, I don't take the Headmaster as somebody who would let something as serious as leaving campus without telling anybody very lightly…”

“Oh he took it quite well actually. Gary had approached him earlier in the morning right as he left his car. Gary’s reasoning for it was because he got a little impatient and since you were new, he'd wanted to just show you around town before they finally opened up the gates after Halloween. I'd assume since Gary is the current Head Boy and meant well enough, Dr. Crabblesnitch decided to let it go, especially since there hadn't been any incidents reported by the police as a result of you two. He told me he let Gary off with a warning and wanted me to tell you the same.”

I guess that means I'm off the hook and that the cop I'd tripped up with marbles hadn’t bothered to report us either… Or he’d hit his head hard enough on the pavement to forget about it entirely. Either way, it meant I wasn't gonna get in trouble for once, so I was fine with brushing it off entirely and keeping my mouth shut about that.

“Alright then. I actually wasn’t fully ok with the idea of leaving campus to be honest. I only went along with it cause I didn’t want to eat lunch in the cafeteria.”

Dr. Lamb smiled and responded with:

“Ok, just don't do it again. If you really do get hungry, then please don't hesitate to just ask me for a sandwich. At the end of the day I usually end up having extras anyway.”

“Yeah… Sure, I'll remember to ask,” I replied. My eyes shifted over to the wall clock, but unfortunately I still had about 15 minutes before the bell rang and I could finally get outta here. Why can't the hours fly by when you want them to?

“Jenny?”

My attention focused back on Dr. Lamb.

“Yes ma'am?”

“I'd like to just ask something. On your first day, when Trent and his friends were trying to take money from you, you know you could've-”

Ugh, here we go.

“Could've what? Run off to find faculty or a prefect instead of hitting Trent? I ran to the office right after anyway, the Bullies decided to escalate things, not me. I actually gave him a warning before I actually got physical too! He decided to ignore it,” I knew exactly where Lamb had been going with her sentence because I'd heard the same thing a million times, from men and women of all kinds. From the people that were supposed to stop this kind of crap before it happened. It's bullshit, it's always been grade A bullshit. I didn't want to think Gary was right about her, but this definitely wasn't helping.

Hey God! If you're real, why do you keep pulling this stuff on me? Give me a friggin’ break! What the hell did I ever do to you anyway?

Lamb frowned, and her response felt the same as my rant about the lunchroom from earlier, except this time I was the one who decided to change the topic.

My thoughts went back to the framed photo on her desk, and curiosity got a hold of me.

“Who's that woman in the photo with you and your daughter? Is that a family friend or something?”

She looked at the photo as well.

“Oh her? That’s my girl-” Dr.Lamb suddenly stammered a bit, seemingly correcting herself, “R-roommate! She’s my roommate. W-we co-parent.”

A few awkward minutes passed before I nodded and said:

“Whatever you say ma'am,” I told her with a bored tone in my voice.

I figured that was the only way to sort of brush off the fact that I actually knew what she meant. It was clearly a secret she wanted to keep to herself, I guess to keep her job, which was a reason I could understand. Not sure why she even wanted to work at Bullworth though, given its reputation. Maybe it was the only work she could get?

But even if she was a jerk, I don’t think I'd tell anybody about it, even out of spite.

Mercifully, the bell finally rang and with only a wave I left the room.

Not exactly polite, but I wasn’t in the mood to stay around.

As I made my way out into the hallway of the second floor, a familiar voice called out.

“Hey, Jenny!”

I turned my head in the direction of the voice, and it turned out to be Pete, walking over to me with what looked like a book bag slung over his shoulder. As he got a bit closer I noticed his hair was slightly damp, like he’d taken a shower recently. Either that, or he’d been on the receiving end of a swirly. Gary mentioned that happening to Pete a lot.

“Hey Pete, what up?” I replied back as he stopped in front of me, barely looking eye-to-eye - I was a bit shorter than him, which certainly said something about my height since Pete barely stood taller than some of the younger kids around here - as he picked at his right ear. Must've been a bit waterlogged.

“Gary wanted me to tell you that after the next class is over, he wants you to go to the library and meet up with Algie. Apparently he needs to get to his locker in order to return some library books.”

“He can't do it himself? Also, why did Gary send you off to tell me, couldn't he have told me this himself?”

OK, right after saying that, I realized it sounded a bit rude, like I would've preferred talking to Gary instead of Pete. But instead of mulling over it I just waited for Pete to answer.

Pete sighed before explaining.

“Algie is terrified of going into the main school building after dinner is over. The Prefects start patrolling the school grounds since that’s where everybody else is while the rest of the faculty either hang out in the Teacher’s lounge, stay in their classrooms to work on whatever or they leave campus for the day. It basically means the Bullies have free reign of the building until about 8 PM when the janitor locks the building up.”

“Ok, yeah that makes sense, but why couldn't he just tell me this? I mean, he did tell me about Algie needing help when we were in town the other day…” Granted, I could only vaguely remember that. It's a good idea that I'd been reminded at all. But again, why couldn't Gary do it?

Pete looked at me in confusion.

“Y-you guys went into town? Did… anyone else tag along with you two or..?”

“Uh, no. It was just me and him, why?” Pete looked at me weirdly, and suddenly I realized where his thoughts were going, “Get your head out of the gutter Pete.”

Pete put his hands up defensively.

“Hold up, I didn't mean to imply you guys were doing anything like that, I just thought- Oh forget it,” he went to the back of his head, only to suddenly jerk his hand away with a look of disgust.

Ah, ok it definitely was a swirly then. Poor guy.

…Hopefully he remembers to flush his ears out, toilet water induced ear infections weren't pleasant to deal with…

…So I've heard anyway, typically from the people whose heads I'd shoved in the toilet. Not without reason, of course.

Pete continued talking, changing the topic and giving me the answer to my question.

“Anyway… the reason Gary couldn't just tell you in person is because the school elections are finishing up, so he's a bit busy with that. Head Boy responsibilities basically.”

I shrugged. I suppose that made sense. He certainly hadn't shut up about how he was the Head Boy and all that jazz during the tour around the school. In my opinion, it was one of those dumb school titles that people overstated the importance of.

…I guess it did have the benefit of avoiding serious repercussions for playing hooky, though. Especially if you were already brown-nosing the Headmaster beforehand.

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense. Anyway, I gotta get to class, see you around,” I turned to leave, already checked out of all the noise going on around me.

I thought I could hear Pete say something else, like he was trying to get my attention again.

But to me? He might as well not have been there at all.

#bully scholarship edition #bully game #bully rockstar #bully canis canem edit #canis canem edit #jimmy hopkins #bully se #bully au #bully anniversary edition #alternate universe #genderbent au #genderbend #eunice pound #pete kowalski #bully oc

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haveihitanerve · 1 year ago

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this might be my new favorite interview of all time

holy fuck

im cackling like mad and cannot stop grinning.

theyre such adorkable beans

have an image description-

“Its not really in our nature to argue , except through lawyers. We sulked.” -Roland orzabal “Now i've got you!!” Smith prepares a sneak attack. Duran Duran collect their Q award. Tears for Fears were not, repeat not, even a tiny bit jealous. Launching the new Seeds of Love in 1989. No mic for Curt, then? Curt Smith, one day he’ll graduate to the driver’s seat.

Roland, is it true that you once foresaw Curt’s death in a motor race? And have you had any premonitions lately? RO: No, that’s made up as well. Predictive astrology I know nothing about. CS: Basically, we are dull people so the press are forced to make things up about us. That said, he did used to try to pick up attractive young ladies by guessing their star signs and, 95 percent of the time, getting it wrong. RO: Actually, I didn't do that at all. I would ask them their birthday, and was then able to tell them what their father was like. I was spot on, mostly. It was very impressive. CS: No, you would tell them that it was in their future to have an affair with a middle-aged pop star…

Curt, what have you been doing for the past 10-plus years? CS: Hanging on. [Orzabal erupts into slightly manic laughter. Smith ignores him] The day after I left the band, I moved to New York because I wanted to disappear. It’s no coincidence that I moved into a city in which you could disappear very easily. A while later, I made a solo album, which I hated; I had a syndicated radio show in America; I was an MTV VJ. In other words, I had a life.

How the hell did you spend one million pounds making The Seeds Of Love? And do you still consider it to be a work of genius? RO: It cost a million pounds because it took over four years to record, and the studio was 1500 a day. I don't think that, overall, it was a work of complete genius, but there are definitely elements of genius in it. Parts of the album are overproduced and pompous, and listening to those parts now makes me cringe. But every time I do listen to it, I still go, Wow, how did I do that? That’s amazing. It’s the most genius Beatles rip-off in existence. Q gave us five stars, you'll remember. I wouldn't have given it as much as that. But you did.

Who ripped off The Beatles more- you or Oasis? RO: Oasis ripped off The Rutles, not the Beatles. But Liam does do an amazing Lennon, he just does, his voice sounds beautiful. We were ripping off one aspect of The Beatles- Sgt Pepper- while Oasis have made a career out of it.

Roland, is Fish Out Of Water (from Elemental, his first ‘solo’ Tears For Fears album) about Curt? If so, those are some pretty cutting lyrics… RO: Yes, it is, and it contains some of my favourite lyrics. “We used to sit and talk about primal scream/To exorcise our past was our adolescent dream/But now its sink or swim since your memory fails/Now in Neptune's kitchen you will be food for killer whales.” Fantastic, no? Pure vitriol. CS: I couldn't give a fuck, quite frankly. Its a compliment, in some ways. RO: Absolutely. It means I cared deeply for him. [Laughs] That’s one way of interpreting it, anyway…

The ‘80s: an era of cocaine, non-stop fashion disasters and infinte greed. Discuss RO: Absolutely. It was a time of Wall Street’s “greed is good”, of Margret Thatcher and rampant free market capitalism, that kind of thing. True, the mullets were a disaster, although my hair is much the same today. But, by then, we were the very antithesis of rock’n’roll. The drugs didn't come until much later- I didn't start doing charlie until the ‘90s, and only then because I wanted to catch up. In the ‘80s, I’d denied myself many pleasures. I was very introverted, very anal. [Smith nods in silent agreement]

After the fallout in 1990, was Roland pleased to see Curt’s career flop? RO: I didn't like his first solo album at all, but then nor did he. I felt it was going in the wrong direction. But his second, Mayfield, was really good. I thought to myself, Why didn't he do this when we were together? I wouldn't have let him? Well, thats probably true. I did view Tears For Fears very much as my band, I suppose.

Who is the best singer? RO: I am. CS: I am.

You were really pretentious, weren't you? RO: [laughing again] We Still are pretentious! But we’re much better at it now. We’ve blended our pretensions with humor, wouldn't you say? We are humorous and pretentious and middle-aged. We’re both 42, after all. CS: But I look younger RO: Cunt. (yes he says cunt, not curt)

Duran Duran got a lifetime achievement at last years Q Awards. Were you jealous? RO [scoffing]: I think, basically, you are running out of people to give awards to, so watch this space, because it could be us next year? What I want to know is why you didn't give it to Phil Collins. Genesis, the solo years and of course The Lion King, the best record he’s ever made. Anyway, how do you define achievement? As Sting once said… CS: oh, for fucks sake, please don't start quoting Sting. RO:.... As Sting once said, Music is its own reward.

#i fucking love them #and i love how curt an answer that was like #'its us against the press'#and then went #'fuck it he sucked at guessing peoples zodiacs'#this entire interview is just them fucking with each other #and i love it #roland and curt #curt smith #roland orzabal #besties #platonic soulmates #tears for fears

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charlie-ver · 1 year ago

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yeah so I do not visit the sea often, right. But I do believe to have thalassophobia. Because of my fucking dreams.

I have slept for 3 hours and one of my many dreams was the following:

A delivery guy showed up at my place. We had cars in the front, so the people from the house went to part them next to the house while I hung back in yard, poking around. Somehow I was instructed to remove a pile of dirt. (At this point I discovered I may have not been me but some fallen angel? I made a lot of sarcastic comments about god in the way someone would talk about their neglectful parent. I believe this is just my binge watching of Lucifer showing up.)

Anyway, so I went to remove the dirt with someone else. We discovered that there were huge ass ants, like size-of-your-palm ants, so we left it alone. I think one then bit me because I became "connected to All Nature" (my words in-dream) and suddenly I am looking at the grass but the grass is a view over an underwater cliff, into a trench. I can recognize I am rather deep, because the trench if filled with blue-black. There's barely any light.

And then I see an enormous shape emerging. It's like a whale, but much much bigger and the snout (?) is lot more rounded. A leviathan, if you will. And then I hear it wail "Come.... Closer...."

And that's when I woke up, in absolute panic, which only happens when I dream or something scary, gross, shoking or when I die.

I've always been rather uncomfortable with depths - even in the pool - which is why I deeply dislike those huge pool complexes with many many pools and many of them having big drop-offs. "Deep ends" I suppose. I don't like the thought of swimming at sea because of the thought of being Eaten. (Not that I can swim? I learned but dropped it as soon as my gender related body issues emerged.)

So maybe I do have some absolute terror about this. Maybe it was a manifestation of the Call of the Void, which is something I experience very regularly. Either way, I have not had a dream that has left me briefly panic for a while, so maybe I have some form of Thalassophobia even though I no longer interact with large bodies of water nor do I observe them. But I believe that it is a rather rational fear - there are big, scary things deep down. How do we know there isn't something bigger? We don't. Sure, it would have to be something that never surfaces and likely something denser than water so it doesn't resurface after it dies, and the deep ocean would have to be able to provide it with enough calories to live, but that isn't exactly absolutely impossible, is it? When I say leviathan, I just mean something eluded to us. I don't mean a fantastical deep sea dragon, I just mean a huge animal that can survive it's entire life in the very depths and which sinks when it dies.

But, don't take me seriously. I have have and art hs degree and will be starting my bachelor education in English next month. I am not a man of science.

#ghost's presentation #Text #thalassophobia #tw deep sea #Deep sea description #Nightmare #tw thalassophobia #dream #leviathan #call of the void

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alki-studio · 1 year ago

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HxH manga rebinding! (vol. 1)

(project master post here)

Let me just start this off with that from my 7 years of experience bookbinding, a LOT went wrong with this project. Like, almost everything that could've went wrong. It is not to my usual standard of work, though I tried to make up for errors where I could.

Nonetheless, I'm doing this for practice and to document my progress, so here's how it went!

⍔ (More final pics at the end) ⍔

I absolutely adore the cover of the first volume as-is. It's really great graphically: the palette pops and gives a clear hierarchy to information in different areas, the illustration of Gon on the frog is super cute, it's overall just fun.

My first design decision was to retain the green/yellow/red color palette. I don't think I've ever done anything with these colors, I don't really gravitate towards them, so I definitely wanted to keep them in the design.

I didn't have a piece of leather large enough in any of these colors-- all the leather I use is industry scraps and remnants, so I don't really purchase full hides. So, I had to get creative with it:

I did have enough of this laurel green leather to cover a front and back board, but I'd need to hide the seam along the spine. I also have this really cool tie silk jacquard, I want to guess it's from the 80's (I got it for a dollar at a flea market). Technically I'm using the backside of this stuff, but I like it better because of how vibrant the colors are. I only need a thin strip for the spine, so I cut out a matching green, yellow, and orange section.

Here are some reject cover material contenders: different leathers, vintage kimono silk, and snakeskin!

I didn't want to just copy the cover for the board design, so I looked at the panels for some inspiration. My favorite panel from volume 1 is actually of the tunnel from the Hunter exam (left), but since this is the first volume, I really wanted to pay homage to this being the beginning of Gon's journey. So, I included this panel of Whale Island (right), along with a wave pattern.

Here's the design I sketched out, and it carved into chipboard:

Normally I'd just sketch directly onto the chipboard I'm carving, but I wanted to have a template to use for gold foiling. This is my first attempt at doing so; I don't actually have the proper tools for traditional hot stamping, so I'm using a hot foil pen (video on the tool/technique).

First mistake: Trying to brute force the original cover off the block. Lesson: Use a heat gun.

Removing the text block from the original softcover was pretty straightforward, except I originally tried to get the cover off the block by gentle tearing/cutting away at the original glue, which resulted in me just destroying the attached page anyway. This volume doesn't give you many "junk" pages to sacrifice, so it meant I'd have to glue my end paper onto the last page of the volume D:

For the other cover, I hit it with a heat gun for a few seconds, and it peeled right off.

Here's a progress shot of attaching the leather to the boards, smooth sailing there:

Second mistake: Not backing fabric with Heat n' Bond Lesson: Always make bookcloth properly

I have made my own bookcloth before (video on how to do it), and really, truly, know better than to apply liquid glue to fabric. Nonetheless, I was stupid and did it anyway. I even diluted the glue with water, thinking that would mitigate the effects of glue seepage? It didn't. My spine fabric lost all its vibrancy and was just an ugly, goopy mess.

Before I attached the board and spine to the block and endpapers, I added the foiling. At first, that came out pretty well, but then I lost patience, and started freehanding Whale Island on the back.

Third mistake: Not sticking to the template Lesson: Stick to the fucking template (and start saving for a CNC)

The drawing itself was fine, so normally this wouldn't be an issue, but because I have Whale Island sitting on top of a raised embossed silhouette, it was painfully obvious that my drawing wasn't in the position or scale it was supposed to be. My freehand lettering also leaves something to be desired, though I don't think the template would have helped a lot with this either. Honestly, for a position-sensitive blind transfer for lettering like this, using a CNC like a Cricut or Silhouette would be best. This might be my push to finally invest in one?

The endpapers are actually paper I had marbled myself, a while back, and met the green/yellow criteria. Attaching those to the block went smoothly, though I had to slightly glue over the panels at the back of the volume T^T... I used some of the spine fabric for head/endbands as well. It's... pretty ugly up close. Glue seepage, and the next mistake.

Fourth mistake: Gluing the entire fucking block upside down Lesson: Anything but that

The cosmetic mistakes on the cover this book are pretty forgivable, but the inside is a genuinely disgusting mess. I was working on getting this done before a friend came over, and was pretty happy to get the block glued in and the whole thing in the press before she arrived. I decided to take it out of the press show her when she arrived, only to realize I HAD GLUED THE BLOCK UPSIDE DOWN. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

I tried to remove the block nicely, but the glue was already half dry and tacky and it was an awful awful mess, and I was already SO DONE with the project. So, I just cut the block out along the middle of the endpaper, and stepped away for the evening.

I really wanted to use the marbled paper I made, and I had no scraps to use over the seam where I had to flip the block, so I had to find a complimentary alternative. I just used some chiyogami, with, once again, green/yellow/red. Slapped that on the seam. Probably could've done a better job with it.

I had been saving the original covers, and wanted to incorporate them, so I decided to use them as sort of bookmark pages? Not sure how to call it, but like how hardcovers with a paper cover will have those folded flaps on the inside usually with an about or review section.

As for the cosmetic fixes:

First thing I did was properly make bookcloth with the sliver of extra silk in the right colorway that I had, and glued that over the lumpy fucked up original spine. It's not perfect by any means, but it's definitely a lot better.

When I started writing this, I had only done gold foil on the covers. But as I was looking back at early design process photos, I remember how much I wanted to incorporate the red into the design, which mine was absent of. So, I started to accent Gon and the frog with red paint.

It looked absolutely horrifying.

So I kept painting, and painting, and painting, trying to make it look good, and it was 4AM and I was tired, and I'm used to oil paint so I forgot you can't just leave ugly globs of paint wherever and wipe them up later, and it just kept looking worse and worse.

I got jumpscared by this monstrosity this morning:

Don't paint while tired!!

I tried to salvage my awful paint job the next day, and kept adding more colors and paint into the design until I had ended up just repainting the original cover. I didn't get the lettering perfect or anything, but I got it to a presentable point at least. I really wanted to make some semblance of a re-interpretation of the original illustration, but oh well, the painted version was a necessary fix.

It's not perfect by any means, (honestly, it's not even good either), but I did what I could, and I'm ready to move onto the next project. Here's the final pictures!

Thank you for reading this far! Please leave a comment with any thoughts or suggestions, they really encourage me to keep going :D

#bookbinding #hunter x hunter #hxh #hxh manga #gon freecss #bibliophile #manga rebind #alki studio

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suga-tonin · 7 months ago

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seomies

available on ao3 - other works

word count: 5k. fluff. gen & gn!reader. in the seom! au but they're in the city!.

summary: made in a lab by two mad scientists, the seven seomies have never been outside of their controlled environment. in a strange turn of events involving a flying purple whale, a former war captain cat, and a pair of very stinky shoes, the seomies find themselves saddled with taking care of a Giant - or is it the other way around?

warnings: does stinky shoe cabinet count?

Yeonjun is the cutest neighbor in all of Seoul, you're sure of it. The child's parents are your real neighbors, of course, but Yeonjun is the one you spend the most time with, as he’s the one you babysit when his parents want an occasional date night or need to work late at their respective offices. You don't mind, as your evenings are usually free anyways, and the extra money doesn't hurt either. Hearing that his family was moving to America was the saddest news you'd heard that week, with your manager denying your time off request coming in a close second.

You're walking Yeonjun back from the park, the final playdate the two of you will likely ever have. His parents texted to let you know the movers had just taken the last of their boxes not too long ago, so you were good to come back from the park. Yeonjun trots along beside you, clutching his favorite stuffed purple whale as you lead him through Seoul’s steel and concrete.

“Did you have fun today?” You ask him, and he beams up at you.

“Yeah, lots of fun!” His grin quickly turns into a pout, though, as he looks back down at his whale. “I wish you could come with us to America.”

“Aww, you’re so sweet, Jjunie,” you say, patting his head as the two of you come to a stop at a crosswalk. “I’ll miss you, too. But I’m sure there are many new friends waiting for you in America! And you’ll have your mom and your dad, right?”

Yeonjun nods, “and my whale!”

“That’s right, and your whale.”

The two of you make your way across the street and continue back to your apartment building when Yeonjun drops his toy. He gasps and lets go of your hand to pick it up when the door of the building in front of you bursts open.

You hurriedly pull Yeonjun out of the way as a tall, thin man in a lab coat stalks out, muttering angrily about ... socks? He's followed by a shorter man in glasses, both of them now arguing in the street as passersby walk around them and Yeonjun dusts off his whale.

"Yuck," he says, shaking it through the air, "there are bugs on my whale!"

You look at the ground where the whale was, but there don't appear to be any bugs crawling around. "Maybe it was just some dust," you tell him, taking him by the hand again to lead him away from the arguing men (scientists?). "Here, mind if I take a look?"

A closer look at the whale reveals no bugs, but you dust it off nevertheless and hand it back to its young owner. "I think the bugs are all gone now, thank you!" Yeonjun says, beaming up at you.

"Sure thing," you smile, patting his head. The rest of the walk back home is without further incident, and both of you fail to notice the seven tiny creatures hanging on for dear life to your shoelaces.

To the naked eye, the Seomies don't seem like much. Under a microscope, they also don't seem like much. No taller than a very small pinky finger, they are creatures with large heads and small, wide bodies. They can see like humans do, hear like humans do, and touch things and move them about like humans do, just with much smaller strength. They certainly speak a language, but their voices are too high pitched for humans to figure out what that it might be. It could be a known human language, or a tongue entirely their own - all the humans can hear are high-pitched seomseomseomseom -s, hence their name. From observations, they seem to eat, sleep, and drink the same way humans do, but make no waste. Their lifestyles, if left alone in controlled environments, seem to mimic pastoral ones.

Unfortunately for everyone, your apartment is not a controlled environment.

After saying your final goodbyes to your neighbors, you retreat to your own apartment and leave your shoes by the door, as you normally would. For you, however, this means you tuck them away in the cabinets, too busy greeting your cat to notice the Seomies clinging to the laces.

The Seomies, meanwhile, have been plunged into darkness after soaring through incomprehensible heights. Also, something stinks.

"Hyung?" Jimin is the first to break the silence. "Where are we?"

"I don't know," Jin responds, "but something in here stinks."

Through the small sliver of light coming through the cracks between the cabinet doors, RM surmises that there is some semblance of solid ground beneath them. Eventually, all seven of their group have let go of the shoe and are standing on the shelf (although Hobi did take some coaxing). Now to figure out what to do next ...

The answer comes in with the light - your cat, ever eager for treats, has pawed the cabinet door open in search of the treat bag. Instead, he's met with seven tiny creatures. Two of them scream, three of them jump back, another clings to one of the screamers, and the last bares his teeth and lets out a tiny growl.

The cat regards them with curiosity. These are not his treats, and they probably wouldn't taste very good. Perhaps it's worth a try, still?

All seven Seomies scramble backwards as the cat tries to take a bite. "Get back," Hobi squeaks, "go away!"

The cat pauses, tilting his head to one side. While humans can't understand the Seomies, certain other creatures can - not that the scientists would know this, because their controlled environments have yet to introduce other creatures to the Seomies, like cats. "Who are you?" The cat asks.

This prompts seven more screams.

"Relax," the cat rolls his eyes, "I won't eat you. I don't think you would taste very good, anyways. My name is Sir Captain Lightfoot Longwhiskers, but you can call me Baby Cat like my human does."

"I'm Taehyung!"

"And my name is Jimin!"

Taehyung and Jimin are the first to introduce themselves, bowing politely to Sir Captain Lightfoot Longwhiskers. The others are quick to follow, now reassured they won't meet their doom by becoming cat food.

"Hm," the cat hums, "well, a pleasure to meet you all. You wouldn't happen to know where my human is hiding my treats, would you?"

"Kitty! Dinner!"

"Ah, dinner! Coming!" The cat turns away from the Seomies and scurries away, following the call of his dinner bowl.

"Dinner ..." Jungkook stares after Sir Captain Lightfoot Longwhiskers longingly, clutching his stomach.

"We didn't even get lunch today," Taehyung pouts.

"I'm sure there's food around here somewhere," Hobi says, but he sounds rather uncertain.

Yoongi opens his mouth and lets out a yawn. Before he can say anything, though, the Seomies hear a voice approaching.

"Oh, cat, did you leave this open?" You walk towards the front entrance to close the cupboard door as your cat mashes his face into his food, offering no response.

"Scatter," Namjoon hisses, and the Seomies move away from the light before they are plunged into near darkness once more.

They stay like that, crouched against unseen walls and clinging to each other, as unfamiliar apartment routines sound out from beyond their dark cupboard. Eventually, Yoongi nods off on Jin's shoulder, and Jimin and Taehyung start playing a game of I Spy where all they spy is darkness and the answers are just the dark versions of things they saw in the cupboard before the door got closed on them for a second time - the walls, the Giant's shoes, the Giant's shoelaces, the Giant's other shoes ....

Then the cupboard door opens again, and the Seomies (minus Jin, whose shoulder is being slept on by Yoongi, and minus Yoongi, who is sleeping on Jin's shoulder) scramble up to meet Sir Captain Lightfoot Longwhiskers. The space behind him is dark now, too, but the moonlight must be coming in from somewhere.

"Sorry it took so long for me to return," Sir Captain Lightfoot Longwhiskers says, "my human wanted to trim my claws before she went to sleep. Anyways, where were we?"

"You're a cat, right?" Jungkook asks, inching forward towards the edge of the shelf.

"Of course," Sir Captain Lightfoot Longwhiskers sniffs, "what else would I be?"

"Can I pet your fur? I heard it's very soft - I read about it in a Giant's book once! Please?" Jungkook widens his eyes and pouts cutely in a way that had always convinced the scientists to give him an extra dumpling or another couple of chips (always to share with his hyungs, of course - he couldn't possibly eat it all himself).

"Of course my fur is soft! And I suppose I could allow a few pets," the cat says, "here, there's always a spot right here where my human can never quite reach - pet that bit, Jungkook."

With a giggle, Jungkook hops off the shelf to the terrified cries of Namjoon and Jimin before landing in the cat's soft fur. He climbs up to the spot the cat had pointed to and starts using his hands to smooth down the fur there. "Ooh, fluffy!"

"Me too, me too!" Without waiting, Taehyung also hops down onto the cat before turning back to the others. "Jiminie, come on!"

"We can go together, Jiminie," Hoseok says, turning to offer Jimin his hand and a brave smile. Down below, Taehyung is now on his back and making snow angels in the cat's fur. Next to them, Namjoon and Jin exchange a look.

"You guys should go," Jin says, "maybe he'll take you to some food. Yoongi and I will stay here."

"Hyung, are you sure?"

"It's safe here, minus the stink. Besides, Yoongi is sleeping. Just bring some food back for us." Jin waves them off.

"We'll be back," Jimin says, "don't worry!"

"Yeah, yeah, now hurry up before one of them pulls out that cat's hair," Jin tells them.

Hoseok and Jimin jump together, Namjoon following not long after. The cat lets out a soft "oof" at all the added weight, then turns as best he can to look at the four of them (he can't see Jungkook, who is petting the back of his head).

"Oh, you're here too," Sir Captain Lightfoot Longwhiskers says, "well, shall I give you the grand tour?"

"Yes, please," Jimin says, and then they all scream and hold tight as the cat begins to move without warning. Jungkook scrambles up to the top of the cat's head and screams in delight.

"Well, you already know the foyer, and here is the mirror my human and I admire ourselves in every day," the cat says. The mirror is across the way from the open cupboard.

"Hey, we can see Jin hyung!"

"Jin hyung, look!"

Jin turns his head and looks, finding them waving at him through the mirror. He smiles and waves back.

The cat takes them through the living room, with a great big soft something called a "couch", great for lounging, and a large black "TV" where his human plays boring dramas, droning news channels, and fascinating bird videos. Next is the kitchen, with the cat's food and water bowls, and there, on the counter, is a box of cookies and a box of cereal.

"How do we get up there?" Jungkook asks Namjoon.

"Well, I just jump," Sir Captain Lightfoot Longwhiskers offers.

"But you're a cat, and your legs are longer than ours," Jimin tells him.

“Hm, I suppose you’re right,” the cat says as they all eye the food thoughtfully. Taehyung tilts his head to the side to try and get a better angle on the situation.

Strange bumps in the night wake you from sleep.

Well, actually, the soft light coming through the window and your phone tell you it’s early morning - fifteen minutes before your last alarm is set to go off, as a matter of fact. You’re late.

Writing off the rustling coming from the living room as your cat causing mischief as usual, you race around the room, getting ready to scarf down a granola bar on your morning commute and praying that the trains won’t be packed.

Rushing through getting ready, you grab your bag and fling open the door to your living room - and then freeze.

An empty box of cookies lies open on the floor - the box of cookies that had been on the counter when you went to bed. Next to it is the box of cereal you forgot to put in the cupboard, it’s contents spilling out onto the floor as seven small … humans? Flesh-colored bugs? … creatures … stare up at you.

If it had been any other day (if you had woken up on time), you would have taken the time to stop and stare for longer, or maybe even scream. As it is, the image of your strict and unyielding manager’s face flashes in your mind to the tune of alarm bells, and you decide that the tiny intruders can probably wait. A glance at the clock confirms these suspicions.

“I’m late! You - I’ll deal with you later!” A stern finger points at the Seomies as it’s owner stalks over to the door, puts on a pair of shoes from the stinky cabinets, and leaves.

“How rude,” Jin frowns, “not even a good morning!”

Tiny humans

Microscopic humans

Small human clones

All of these searches and more yield no results. No matter how much you think about it, you can’t come up with any explanation for the sight you’d seen this morning. It’s clear the seven … creatures were the ones to eat the cookies and spill the cereal. For one crazy moment, you wonder if they would use your cat’s litterbox. But - no, you can’t afford to take care of any more pets, much less seven of them!

Needless to say, you don’t get much work done. As the elevator dings and lets you out into the hallway, you’ve half-convinced yourself that it was just a fever dream, or a sleep-induced hallucination, or your cat’s doing, somehow.

Slowly, you open the door to your apartment and peek inside. The light is on, and seven tiny heads turn in your direction from where they’re sitting on the coffee table.

Moving at a snail’s pace, you step inside and take off your shoes as the door swings shut. The … creatures stare back, watching your slow progress towards them. Your cat is lazily napping on the couch.

“Hello,” You try, giving them a small wave.

One of them squeaks back at you.

Well, this is going swimmingly. Still, you decide to make an effort - pulling out your phone, you open Papago and hold it out towards them. “Uhh, could you maybe … say that again?”

More squeaking, a small sigh, and then a few of their group is taking the phone out of your hands. You watch on in bewilderment, then amazement, as they start typing. Well, to be more accurate, they start squeaking at each other as a few of them all try to type at once, but then they figure out a system where they all have a section of the keyboard to press when directed by the one who you think must be their leader.

Hello

“Ah, yes, hello,” you tell them, waving again and getting seven tiny bows in return. “Well, I guess you can understand Korean, then. Um … right, so, how did you get into my apartment?”

This sets them off again, squeaking at you and each other as they all try to start typing at once. When that only results in a series of jumbled characters forming incomprehensible words, they seem to split off - two of them start acting out a very dramatic scene, while another starts squeaking at you. Three more are still arguing amongst themselves, and the last is (smartly) using this time to hop around your phone screen and spell out his version of the events.

As one of his friends starts running around the coffee table in what you can only guess is an imitation of an airplane, the little guy who’d been trying (unsuccessfully) to talk to you through squeaks suddenly stops. He starts to rub his tummy and stares up at you with a small, sad frown.

“Oh! Are you hungry?”

The little guy nods up at you as the rest of his friends stop what they are doing and gather near him, all seven pairs of eyes now looking at you.

“Um … well, I guess you can eat human foods?” This prompts seven small nods. “Have you had soup before?” More nodding. “Well, I was going to make ramen … can you eat that?” The most enthusiastic nods yet. “Okay, right - I’ll go make that, then.”

As the water begins to bubble on the stove, you wonder how to serve the little creatures their food. A bowl would be way too big for them … maybe a plate, and have seven small portions along the rim? Or give them singular noodles in plastic water bottle caps?

You notice that the creatures … or rather, tiny humans, had cleaned up the mess of spilt cereal and thrown the empty cookie box in the trash can. Right now, a couple of them are figuring out how the TV remote works, navigating through various channels while the others watch on. One of them, however, is climbing down to the floor on one of the legs. As you watch, he makes it to the ground and takes a moment to reorient himself, looking around before scurrying towards the kitchen - towards you.

The water has now reached the right temperature to add the ramen, so you’re forced to look away from the tiny guy’s journey to do that. When you look back, he’s made it to your feet.

He squeaks what you assume is a greeting and gives a small bow before pointing up.

“Ah, the ramen’s not quite done yet - ” he shakes his head, squeaks again, and points up more insistently. “... you want to go on the counter?” A small nod. “Oh, alright.”

You figure the best way to do this would be to carry him, so you crouch down and offer him your palm. He hops on, his weight small but sure, and you ferry him up to the counter.

“Be careful of the stove,” you warn him, and he nods and bows his thanks, climbing off your hand and beginning to look around the counter. You keep an eye on him as you add an egg to the ramen.

Like the rest of his friends, this one is of a very small stature - you think he might be even shorter than a yakult. His hair seems to be well-taken care of, dark and fluffy atop his head. He observes the olive oil and soy sauce bottles with a cute pout, head tilted to one side.

When the ramen smells like it’s done, you reach into a cabinet for a bowl (for yourself) and a plate (for your seven small invaders). As you close the cabinet, the little guy on the counter takes it upon himself to start pushing the plate over to the stove.

“Thank you,” you tell him, and he beams up at you in response.

The ramen is divided into the bowl and the plate. You use your chopsticks to bunch up seven roughly equal portions along the rim, and let your little helper sit on your shoulder as you turn off the stove, place the empty pot in the sink, and carry the plates to the coffee table.

Five little heads turn towards you. Wait, five?

Squeaking from the hallway catches your attention. The last of their group is riding towards you, seated atop your cat with the air of a general leading his troops into battle. Your cat is also holding something in his mouth.

The something appears to be a piece of paper. You put the bowls down on the table, a tickle running down your arm in the form of your small friend using it to return to the coffee table.

Along the top of the paper, there is what you suppose is meant to be a drawing of the seven of them, except the little artist’s depiction shows seven nearly identical figures. The only differences are the names written alongside each one - Taehyung, Jimin, Namjoon, Seokjin, Hoseok, Jungkook, Yoongi. There is also a drawing of two large faces, one with a rounded nose and one with pointy eyebrows. These are simply labeled #1 and #2.

Then there is a drawing of a rabbit standing on its hind legs, labeled Lee?, and some other creature, which you assume is a wolf, because it’s labeled Wolf?. Below these are a sneaker, with stink fumes coming off of it, captioned travel, and a cat, which you assume to be your cat based off of the markings. At the very bottom, tiny characters read, If you cannot find the lab, we will stay with you as long as you promise not to separate us, and to feed us properly (3 meals a day), and give us a comfortable place to sleep. We would also like to bathe, and watch TV sometimes because the singing show is very fun. -Taehyung

While you were looking over the paper, your cat has gone over to his water bowl while the tiny humans figure out how to turn the TV off instead of just lowering the volume. One of them is staring at you, and you assume he’s Taehyung. When he notices you looking at him, he waves.

“Hello … Taehyung?”

He nods and waves again, smiling this time.

“Right, um … thanks for this! It’ll be helpful … should we eat first, and then we can talk about all this?”

Taehyung, who has been eyeing the plate of noodles, nods again and goes to join his friends, who are already gathered around their plate. They chorus something at you and start to dig in - you assume their squeaks translate to “thank you for the meal”.

After everyone is done eating, you decide it’s time to get to the bottom of this. As cute and friendly as the seven invaders are, you’d like a bit more of an explanation than just their names.

“So,” you say, staring down at them. They stare back, your phone situated in front of them and open to the notes app. You hold up Taehyung’s paper. “This is you?”

They nod, and there is some shifting as they all arrange themselves in the order Taehyung drew them in. Their different colored shirts are quite useful in telling them apart, and you add that to the paper.

“Okay, okay … and who are these?” You point to the #1 and #2 faces.

The scientists, types the one in blue - Namjoon.

“Scientists?” They nod. “Okay … and these scientists are your friends?”

not friends!!!, types the one in black, taking over from Namjoon, they made us.

And Leebit and Wolfchan, Jungkook adds, using his hand to point to the Lee? and Wolf? drawings.

“... they made you,” you feel a headache coming on. “You were made by scientists? In a lab? Like the Powerpuff Girls?” They nod along to your questions but stop at the mention of the Powerpuff Girls. One of them makes a confused face and shrugs. What’s that?

“Right, right, okay,” you decide to skip over it for now, “the shoe. Why is the shoe here?”

It takes them a while to get their answer across, with Namjoon struggling to type as the rest of them seem to be giving him different versions of events. Meanwhile, Jimin and Taehyung are trying to act it out, but they’re not doing too good of a job, running around and making dramatic stinky faces while pointing towards their feet.

Finally, Namjoon turns the phone around. The scientists got into a fight and we fell down, but then we got picked up again but then there was a big shake and then we were on something stinky (your shoes) and we were moving a lot … and now we’re here.

“Right,” you repeat, thinking back to the other day with the two strange men in lab coats. Some things were starting to make sense, but … “do you have any way to contact the scientists?” They shake their heads. “So you can’t go back to them?” More head shaking, and Taehyung reaches for the phone.

Don’t wanna go!

You briefly consider just bringing them back to that street yourself, but it’s honestly a little out of your way now … not to mention, you’re not even sure which street it was, just the general direction.

Jimin adds, There is yummy food here … and you seem nice!

“Thank you,” you tell him, “but I’m not too sure about this … I don’t really know how to take care of you? And I’m definitely no scientist …”

Try it for a week, Jin types, and if it doesn’t work out we’ll go back to the scientists .

You shake seven tiny hands. “Deal.”

It’s definitely been more than a week, and the Seomies, as you’ve taken to calling them, are still with you, and you with them.

You’d like to think you’re friends now, although there’s not many people you can tell about them - everyone would think you’re nuts. Especially since you’ve discovered that the Seomies can do magic … or something close enough.

When Hoseok peers out the window and pouts sadly, the weather always clears up not too long after. When Yoongi sits close by the stove, whatever’s on to boil will heat up just a little faster. And any promise you make to Jimin - you’ll take them out to the park later, you’ll have movie night tomorrow, we can have kimchi stew for dinner - always comes true.

Or perhaps these are all just coincidences, and the seven lab-made Seomies are nothing more than itty-bitty versions of humans.

The Seomies themselves have discovered how to communicate with you … to a certain extent. Really, they’ve only managed your name, or something that sounds vaguely like it. A long, drawn out, high pitched Ahhhhh-meeeee means they’re calling for you, usually if your cat is too busy or too cat-like to help them with something they want. Which is another thing - they can commune with the cat.

You’ve bought them a dollhouse, complete with working stairs and doors, and enlisted the help of your neighbor, some sort of engineer named Sejin, to help give the dollhouse functioning lights and a working plumbing system. They don’t need toilets, but they do bathe sometimes and they also need to drink water - you suppose they turn all their food into energy before it can turn into waste, due to their size … or something like that. Again, not a scientist!

These days, it seems they spend most of their time watching music show videos on YouTube, having figured out how to use the TV now. A few of them also like to work through books, using their whole bodies to turn the pages.

You wonder sometimes about the friends Jungkook mentioned - Leebit, Wolfchan. You wonder about the scientists, and whether they’re looking for the Seomies. Jin once told you that their life in the lab was much less fun than their life here - there was no cat, was his first point. But his next two points were that their meals were always the same three things, and that their bed wasn’t really comfortable. Bed, singular, because they’d apparently shared one pillow as a bed, and scraps of sock as blankets.

A call from Taehyung jars you from your thoughts. Today is Saturday, and you had little plans other than to prevent the Seomies from getting into too much trouble, and maybe take them to grocery shop with you in your handbag, the one with little window-holes cut out for them.

Taehyung is pointing towards the front door. Someone is knocking.

You turn to make sure none of the Seomies are obviously visible before you open the door. Jungkook is peeking out from behind the corner, but he darts out of sight when you make eye contact with him.

“Hello,” smiles the woman standing in the hallway, “we’re your new neighbors! Say hello, Taehyun,” she prompts the small boy peeking out from behind her legs.

“Hello! I’m Taehyun,” chirps the boy, bowing to you. He’s got big brown eyes and is clutching a pink stuffed rabbit.

“We just moved in next door, and wanted to drop this off with you,” Taehyun’s mother says, holding out a wrapped plate to you.

“Oh, thank you,” you tell her, accepting the plate with a bow, “welcome to the building! Please let me know if there’s anything I can do to help you!”

Taehyun and his mother say their goodbyes, needing to finish moving in. You close the door and head back into your apartment, unwrapping the plate to find rice cakes.

Jungkook and Jin are already at the coffee table, ready to eat whatever Taehyun and his mom brought over. Jungkook puts his hands on his stomach and looks up at you with wide eyes, signaling that he’s hungry.

“We just had lunch not too long ago.”

He clasps his hands together and bats his lashes at you.

“Don’t worry, I’ll share. It’s rice cakes.” Setting the plate down, you go to see what the others are up to.

Yoongi is watching a music video with Hoseok and Namjoon. The three of them clamber onto your shoulder and you go back out into the hallway to find Jimin and Taehyung riding on your cat’s head. They wave up at you.

When you return to the living room, Jin’s cheeks are suspiciously full and he has powder from the rice cakes on his cheeks. He looks at you innocently, but it’s pretty easy to tell where the missing bite of rice cake has gone.

You cut off little pieces of the rice cake and hand them to the Seomies, and take a piece for yourself as well.

It’s definitely been an adjustment, welcoming the Seomies into your life. But you wouldn’t change it for the world, and you know there’s more to come with them. Life is always an adventure, you think to yourself as you watch the seven chew on their pieces of rice cake. Jimin smiles up at you and reaches his rice cake to toast with yours. Cheers!

#bts #bts fanfic #fluff #in the seom #they're alive !#happy 11th bday bangtan #ft. txt yeonjun and taehyun

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