#SO THAT WAS AN INTERSTING FACT I NEVER CONSIDERED

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Tornado Nightmare

Summary: Tyler Owens x Fe!Reader -> It's no secret you and Tyler didn't get along. But when you have a nightmare and you trust him to help you, things begin to change.

Disclaimer: I don't know how this one is considering I took a break in between writing it, but I hope you enjoy it ❤ Mostly fluff, enemies-is to lovers, Tyler takes care of reader, Wrangler shenanigans, becoming unlikely friends, light swearing, mentions of nightmares. Not Proof Read.

It was no secret you and Tyler didn’t get along. It wasn’t anything personal…or maybe it was? It had been so long since you’d both met, you couldn’t remember the exact moment you’d both gone from being strangers to being…well, whatever the hell you called two people who shared the same friendship group and work colleagues but never seemed to be on the same page with each other. 

It had been one petty fight after the other. Which tornado to chase, whose data was clearer in the field, what way to cut the film in order to make the best trailer, which motel to stay at, which restaurant was better, which screw to use to secure down the bar along the top of the roof. It had also been a lifetime of constant heated glances and disgusted faces when you both spotted each other despite knowing you’d be meeting. 

In fact, it didn’t take long before Tyler banned you from his truck. Sometimes you’d piss him off by touching the rim of the flatbed when the others were sitting on the back of it in the evening. 

But he was also banned from stepping foot on your porch. If he wanted inside, he’d have to find a way in through a window. The only time you’d let him step foot on it was when he threatened to pee on your lawn. 

For the others it was annoying; at first. But, when they realised Boone had been playing a secret game with both yourself and Tyler, your rivalry with each other became a form of entertainment. 

Counting how many groans Tyler would give in a minute when you talked, how many eye rolls you’d do until you’d get eyestrain. There was also a bet going on each day for who would crack first and start the long needed argument of the day; you or Tyler. 

So far, you were winning in that department. There was just something about Tyler that got under your skin even when he wasn’t around. Most of the extra argument you had with him had started with yourself against, well, yourself. 

However, there seemed to be an accepted concept that only you and Tyler were allowed to fight each other. If anyone else wanted to argue or start something with you or Tyler, away from those working as a Tornado Wrangler, they’d get an earful. 

The others had seen it. 

Twice in a bar in Arkansas where Tyler had stepped in front of you after two different men on two separate occasions started to get a little more physical with their opinions. Despite what your feelings were for each other, you were still a part of Tyler’s team. He and the others could fight you on different opinions – verbally, never physically – but others had to know where to leave their opinions. 

And three times in diners up and down the interstate. Granted, two of those occasions were because of one specific StormPar analyst who clearly didn’t get the message the first time round; but the second was a complete stranger who called Tyler some things that didn’t agree with you. Not only was he attacking Tyler for his job, but he was indirectly attacking your profession. So you stood up for him, and the other Wranglers. And, indirectly, StormPar. That part you hated, but at the end of the day, you all had the same job. 

But one day, the rest of the Wranglers were met with a scene they never in a million years thought they’d discover. 

You and Tyler, in a kitchen together. Your kitchen. Where the knives, and scissors and other kitchen utensils that could have been used as a weapon were kept. Cooking. Dancing. Talking. Laughing. 

Together.

“Should…” Kate looked around at the others to make sure they were seeing the same thing she was. “Should we do something?”

Dani gave her a similar expression. “I..I don’t know what’s even happening right now.”

“You are seeing what I’m seeing, right?” Boone asked, unable to take his eyes from the kitchen window and backdoor. 

“Uh-huh.” Was the main consensus. 

“Good,” Boone almost whimpered. “Good. Just wanted to check.”

“Do we just…go in?” Lily asked but Dexter held out his hand. 

“N-not yet. I want to see what happens. We might not see this again.”

So they did. For ten solid minutes. 

Neither you or Tyler had heard or seen them, so you just continued cooking. Obviously, they’d noticed a slight difference in both you and Tyler in recent weeks. There were less fights. There wasn’t always complete agreement, but since no fight was made, acceptance was the only thing left to do. 

But never had they expected the recent silences to lead to…whatever the hell was happening to you and Tyler. 

Whilst watching you and Tyler in the kitchen, Lily and Kate let out two small gasps which they managed to cover up with the help of Boone and Javi. 

Tyler had touched you. Walking behind you to get to the stove, he’d laid a gentle hand on your hip, guiding you to the side as you reached into the cupboard. And you didn’t yell. You didn’t curse him out. 

In fact, you smiled. 

You both smiled. 

The rest of the Wranglers continued to watch on in intrigue. 

Meanwhile, inside the kitchen, both you and Tyler had no idea of what spectacle was going on outside. 

It had been an odd transition for you and Tyler; going from arguing over almost every little thing to civil understanding and preference of each other. 

And it had all started weeks previously in a crappy motel room in Oklahoma. 

“I’m telling you, we’ve stayed here before. The owner hates me.” Boone said as he lifted his bag from the back of Tyler’s truck. 

“No she doesn’t.”

“She does! Man, I’m telling you, the lady hates me.”

You opened up the passenger door to Lily’s car and stepped out, laying your hand on the roof of the car. “And why would she hate you?”

Boone got a little sheepish. “I dunno. She just does.”

“Maybe because the last time we stayed here you did a cartwheel into her trash cans and woke the entire motel.” Dani pointed out. 

“It could have been raccoons.” 

Tyler laid a hand on Boone’s shoulder. “No raccoon can scream ‘help, I think I’ve made a banana split with my elbow’.”

Moving towards the office, yourself and Kate booked into the last rooms available before handing everyone their keys. There were two twin rooms so Boone and Tyler took one and Dani and Kate took the other. That left you, Lily, Dexter and Javi to the other single rooms. 

Since your room was on the second floor with Tyler, Boone and Lily; Dexter placed your bags by the bottom of the stairs. 

And Tyler was about to carry yours up when you got there before him. 

“I can carry my own.”

He lifted his hand away and picked up Lily’s instead. “Alright.”

You started making your way up the stairs, Tyler hot on your heels. “You know, it’s okay to accept help sometimes.”

“I’m aware.”

“I would have left it outside your door.”

“I don’t need your help. I can do it on my own.”

Tyler held his hands up in surrender, the bags over his shoulders. “Okay. I’m just saying I won’t hurt to just accept help every once in a while.”

You reached the top of the stairs. “But I didn’t need it. I’m a grown adult, Owens. I can carry my own stuff.”

Twenty minutes after getting settled you headed back down to the trucks and sat beside Dani and Kate. The rest of the night went as smoothly as normal. Laughter, stories, petty arguments over how to make chilli, more stories, discussions over which tornado to chase the next day, disagreements over which one to choose, shared hatred for StormPar and not wanting them to get one up on the Wranglers, a few more tales and jokes from Boone before he spotted the owner walking across the parking lot which forced him into hiding in the back of Tyler’s flatbed; all before finally going to bed. 

But as you drifted off into a seemingly dreamless sleep, there was no way to prepare yourself for what you would wake up to. 

Tyler Owens in his pajamas. 

Boone had started snoring almost the minute his head hit the pillow. Sometimes Tyler was envious of how deeply Boone could sleep. Some mornings it took both himself, Lily, Dani and you to wake him up. 

It was usually the only time in the morning where you and Tyler didn’t argue over how to wake Boone up. You’d bicker with him about being unable to wake Boone up before you’d walk into the room and realise why. 

The first time it happened, you’d both bickered in hushed tones over how best to wake him up and that maybe Tyler hadn’t tried hard enough. Then you came to an agreement. 

Dani and Lily went and grabbed a duvet and some extra sheets to lay on the floor before Tyler counted to three and lifted the mattress from underneath Boone with you. 

It was the only thing other than a true tornado siren that could wake him. 

Tyler on the other hand…he was a light sleeper compared to Boone. Though, most people would be light sleepers compared to Boone. 

Usually it took a good twenty minutes before Tyler would be able to fall asleep and if he heard anything out of the ordinary, like trash cans falling, alarms going off, doors opening or closing, or something heavy hitting the ground, he’d wake up. 

And that was why he found himself looking around his room in the darkness when he stirred awake before he heard something heavy hit the ground before a glass smashing on the ground followed it. 

It wasn’t in his room. Boone was still snoring. The lamp was still on his bedside table. The same went for Boone. 

Then something popped into his head. 

The only room he shared a wall with was yours. On the other side was just a very dense wall. 

Then in the silence, he heard a voice. Your voice. 

Whipping the bedcovers from him, he pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms and darted out of his room, trying his best to not wake Boone in the process. He couldn’t alert everyone. For all he knew you were still awake and had dropped one of the box files off your bed or something. 

But when he stood outside of your room, there was no light in the window and the curtains were drawn completely. So he knocked lightly, but you didn’t answer. But your voice was a little louder. You sounded…stressed. Panicked. 

So he tried the door handle and when it opened after the third try, he made a mental note to let the owner know the door locks were still shitty. Then he opened it up. 

You felt like your entire body was being crushed underneath the rubble you’d found yourself caught in. Children were screaming and crying for their parents, the sky just kept growing darker until the wind that was howling started roaring together like every King of the Jungle had decided to descend on a small town and take out each building that stood, one by one. 

But just as the pressure of the air started forcing your lungs to your spine, a gust of air was let into your lungs again as you shot up and found two hands on your arms. 

Your legs kicked around, trying to find familiar ground. All the while, your entire body had gone from fire hot with clammy air to freezing cold with the amount of sweat that was being attacked by fresh air. 

And just as you came to realise where you actually were, you came to recognise the voice that the extra set of hands belonged to. 

“Hey, take it easy. Take it easy, it’s me.” Tyler told you. “It’s me, it’s me, it’s me, it’s me. It’s Tyler. Look at me, it’s me. Take it easy.”

Finally setting your feet on rough carpet, your vision managed to focus in the dark and you found Tyler in his pajamas crouching on the floor in front of you. 

“Tyler?”

“Yeah,” his voice was soft as he spoke to you. “It’s me. I heard a thud. Are you okay?”

You looked at him but you couldn’t find the words to answer him. Your entire body was shaking from the shock of reality and from the nightmare you’d just been trapped inside of. 

“Sorry.” Tyler quickly apologised. “That was a stupid question. You don’t have to answer that.”

You didn’t know what to do, so you just held onto his hand. 

“You’re shaking.” Tyler whispered. “Here.” 

Standing up, he reached for the top blankets from your bed before he wrapped it around your shoulder, tucking your hair behind your ear before kneeling back on the floor. 

“Just, take some deep breaths.” Tyler took hold of both of your hands. “Follow me. In, and out. In, and out. That’s it.”

“I’m sorry.” You eventually spoke, but Tyler just looked at you both concerned and confused.

“You don’t have to be sorry for anything. Was it a nightmare?”

You swallowed thickly as you nodded. “Yeah.”

Tyler had never heard your voice as weak as it was when you said that. 

“Do they happen often?”

You shook your head before taking a deep breath and tucking your hair back behind your ear. “They used to, but I haven’t had one in a while.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head, unable to bring yourself to use words. So Tyler just nodded. “Okay. That’s okay.”

Then he went to stand and instinctively, you reached out for his hand. “Don’t…don’t leave. Not yet. Please?”

Looking up at you, Tyler’s expression softened. He could still feel your hand trembling in his, and he could see the fear in your eyes at the thought of being left alone in that moment. 

Tyler shook his head as he stood. “I’m not going anywhere. Come here.” 

Leaning up, Tyler pulled you into a hug and within an instant, you hugged him back. He could feel your fingertips making imprints in his back as you held onto him for dear life. And then he did something that he wouldn’t think about until long into the afternoon the next day. 

He pressed a kiss to your head as he leaned back before he stood and sat next to you on the bed. There, he placed a comforting arm around you as he pulled you inside his side and he pressed a small kiss to the top of your head. 

Then he saw the time on your phone where a weather warning notification popped up. 

“We should try and get some sleep. I’ll stay with you. Let me get you some water.”

You didn’t say a word, but you were thankful nonetheless. 

Tyler pressed a third kiss to your head before he stood and helped you back onto your bed where he lifted up the bed covers before letting them float back down on top of you before he moved towards the bathroom, collecting and replacing your lamp onto your bedside table and grabbing a fresh glass from the tea and coffee station on your desk. 

Tyler sat on the edge of the bed beside you as he handed you the glass which you took with a shaky hand. He took it back from you before putting it down and getting into bed beside you. 

He didn’t say anything else other than; “You’re safe.” when he clasped your hand in his between you both in your bed. 

Waking the next morning, your hand was still in his. 

“How’d you sleep?”

Looking up from where your eyes were focused on your hand in Tyler’s, a small smile gracing your face before you could stop it, you were met with Tyler. 

And, for a moment, all sense of ability to talk left you. If someone would have told you that waking up next to Tyler Owens wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, you wouldn’t have believed them. 

“Good.” You eventually answered him, your voice in a whisper. “Thank you for staying.”

Tyler just smiled. “Don’t mention it.”

You felt yourself smile before you looked away and back at your hand that was still in his. Feeling his fingers float over your skin before he pressed a small squeeze to your hand, your squeezed back. However, just as you felt yourself move closer towards Tyler, his grip getting a little steadier in your hand, a knock came to your door. 

“Y/n! Come on! You’re gonna miss it!” 

Kate’s voice rang through your room before she ran next door and banged on Boone’s door. 

“Boone! Tyler! Come on! Javi’s got a reading! Hurry!”

You and Tyler sprung from your bed and ran towards the door whilst Boone was slowly dragging himself from his bedroom, unaware that Tyler wasn’t in his room with him. 

You and Tyler squinted in the bright light of the morning before looking down the hall and seeing Boone shuffle out of his room wrapped in a blanket. “Tyler, man, Kate-” He yawned. “Kate’s calling.”

“Man, I’m here.”

Boone opened his eyes. “Oh. Kate’s calling.”

With a small sigh, you walked towards the balcony and looked over the edge. “Kate!”

She ran out from underneath it, a wide excited smile on her face. “Come on! Before we miss it!”

Both yourself and Tyler looked at each other before looking at Boone. 

“I’ve got him. Just get dressed.”

You nodded and ran back into your room, hearing Tyler force Boone back around to get dressed. Three minutes later you threw the door open just as Tyler and Boone left their room. 

“Guys! Come ON!”

“Alright, alright, we’re coming.” You said as you walked down the stairs. 

Boone yawned again. “What time is it anyway?”

Tyler looked at his dash. “A little after seven.”

“Seven?!”

Kate was rushing behind you, shoving different things into the van. “Y/n, you go with Tyler. I want to catch the data on this one.”

You didn’t have time to respond, but Tyler caught the look of growing fear in your expression. 

“It’ll be okay. You’re safe.”

Taking his word for it, you nodded before hopping into the back of his truck behind his seat whilst Boone crawled into the passenger seat, starting up the video to complain about the time of day but ultimately what they were doing. 

Kate ran past his window in a rush explaining what she and Javi had found. 

Looking in his rearview mirror, Tyler spotted you. 

“It’ll be okay. There’s a harness and-”

You looked at him and nodded. “I trust you.”

Tyler didn’t know what else to say, so he just stayed quiet and smiled. You’d never actually said those words out loud, that you trusted him. You’d also refused to go in his truck with him – even before he banned you from it. 

But he believed you. 

Because you meant it. 

If you didn’t trust him, you wouldn’t have agreed to Kate’s offer. If you didn’t trust him, you wouldn’t work with him. 

Deep down, if you didn’t trust him, you wouldn’t have asked him to stay. 

Twenty minutes later, you were all heading towards the town before taking a sharp right and heading straight towards the rolling crop fields. Then you went off road. 

It was bumpy to say the least. Shaking you all in your seats, Boone tried to get some usable footage out of it before you turned to the radio for Kate’s next instruction. 

“Watch out for a dip. Apparently one of the farmers tried to dig a mine out here.” Javi called out over the radio just before you spotted it. 

“Tyler, watch out for the dip!”

“On it.”

Turning the steering wheel, he should have avoided it. But apparently it was a lot wider than it seemed, sending you all rocking out of your seats and back again twice over. In the meantime, your hand had gone from holding onto the back of Tyler’s chair to hold you steady, to holding his shoulder to pull him back down. 

“Hold back, guys.” Tyler called out over the radio. 

“You guys okay?” Lily asked. 

“We’re fine.” Tyler lifted his hand and rested it over yours that remained on his shoulder, his thumb stroking at your knuckles. “Just shook up. Kate, you got any sign of that tornado.”

Two days later, everyone was back at Kate’s farm and you had driven home but not before leaving something by Tyler’s door. 

However, a few hours later, a familiar truck started pulling up your driveway and towards your home. 

Sitting on the porch swing, you were backlit by the warm lights of the living room lamps whilst Tyler was swimming in the blanket of the night sky and stars. 

“What are you doing out here?”

“Could ask you the same thing.” Tyler said before he stopped, six feet short of your porch. “I got your pie.”

“I made it as a thank you,” you said. “You…you didn’t have to stay when…when you did.” Your eyes fell from his gaze to your hands as you picked at your fingers. 

“You don’t have to thank me.” Tyler said as he shook his head, walking forward some more until he was walking up the steps of your porch. 

Then he leaned against the wooden pole. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You looked away again, back at your hands. “They’re nothing.”

“Y/n…” 

With a few moments of silence exchanged in between your shared look with Tyler, you eventually let that wall down. “They’re nothing big. Really. They can just be…intense?”

Tyler waited and listened to every word you wanted to say. 

“I used to get them more but in the last couple of years they’ve just been as common as regular nightmares. Just a little more intense.”

“Does anyone else know?”

You shook your head. “You’re the only one.”

“What about Kate?”

You shook your head. “No. It just…never came up. The other night was the first time it’s been like that for a while.”

“Are you sure?”

You nodded as you looked at Tyler. “It was about all of us. We got trapped by an EF-3 but it just kept growing until I was under it. When you came in, a pile of rubble had just been dropped from the tornado.”

“Does something trigger them?”

You could only shrug. “They just kinda appear on their own, I guess.”

Tyler could see the weight that you carried on your shoulders because of it. The way your entire body seemed tense whilst you tried to force it to relax. The way you picked at your fingers, trying to force away the memory of being in that nightmare. 

Looking around your land, he got an idea. 

“Come with me.”

“What?”

Tyler turned around and ran down your porch stairs. “Come on.”

“Tyler-” You had to stand to see him as he ran off back towards his truck. “What are yo- Where are you going?”

Holding something in his hand, he ran to his flatbed before running off towards the side of your house and into the grass field. 

“Just come on!”

With a small huff of curiosity and slight worry that Tyler had completely lost the plot, you ran over and followed him before you found him removing his boots and socks. 

“Tyler, what are you doing?”

“We’re dancing.”

“What?”

Tyler just held a wide grin on his face as he set the tape into the player. 

“You need to relax; get out of your head. So, we’re dancing.”

You looked down at his feet and back again. “Barefoot?”

“Are you gonna keep fighting me on this, or are you gonna join me?”

Pressing play, he turned the dial up and ran out into the grass. You had two options; leave him on his own and remain on the sidelines. Or, take your shoes and socks off and join him. 

You chose option two. 

Curling your socks up inside your shoes and leaving them by his boots, you went out into the short grass field and joined him. 

And you just…

Danced. 

Leading you in a two-step, Tyler spun you around the grass until you found yourself in a fit of giggles. You didn’t know how long you and Tyler danced, but it was long enough for the songs on his tape to transfer towards slower songs that meant you and Tyler were slow-dancing under the stars whilst barefoot in the grass. 

With one of your hands clasped in his, a hand on your waist and your hand on his arm, Tyler leaned into you. His cheek resting against your temple, you both swayed gently with the breeze all the while, blades of grass softened under your feet. 

“Tyler?”

He hummed. 

“I know you said I don’t have to thank you-”

“Y/n.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he said your name. 

You leaned back to look at him. “No, I mean it. You’re the first person to ever do this for me, and given our track record, nobody would have blamed you for ignoring me completely.”

A small smile graced his lips. “I’d never ignore you, Y/n.”

“But no one would have blamed you.”

Tyler just shook his head before turning you out and around, then pulling you back in. “If I ignored you, I’d never be able to thank you for the pie. How did you know apple was my favourite?” 

You felt yourself laugh. “Tyler, I’m being serious.”

Holding you back in his arms, Tyler nodded. “I know. But so am I. I’d never ignore you, Y/n. You’re too important to me.”

“I thought we hated each other?”

Tyler just shook his head. “I’ve never hated you, Y/n. You might have been the biggest pain in my ass for a while, but I never hated you.”

“Not once?”

“Not once,” he confirmed. 

You felt your heart sink a little with guilt. “Now I feel bad.”

Tyler just chuckled. “Don’t be. We were a thorn in each other’s side. Besides, I think it’s been giving the others some pretty good entertainment.”

“You know about Kate and Boone, too?”

Tyler gave you a confused look. “I was talking about Javi and Dexter. Wait, what happened with Kate and Boone?”

“They’ve been running some kind of bet on us for months.”

“Really?”

“You haven’t noticed?”

Tyler shook his head. “No.”

“Why do you think Kate keeps making scores in that little notebook of hers?”

“The blue one?”

You shook your head. “The brown one.” Then you remembered. “Why? What’s happening with Javi and Dexter?”

“Just whisperings. I can’t believe they’ve been keeping score.” Tyler paused for a moment. “Who do you think’s winning?”

Laughing, you pushed Tyler away before he took hold of your hands and pulled you back in with a twist. 

After that night, things started to change between you and Tyler. There were less petty arguments, but some more purposeful ones remained in order to make sure Kate was, in fact, keeping score. 

She was. 

There were also less intense glares, more silent conversations being had, even when a rodeo crowd separated you both. 

And then something else was added into the mix. 

You couldn’t quite place what it was but it was…something. Something that, each time you locked eyes with him, it made your heart jump inside your chest. Something that made you want to see his smile more, and hear his voice more. Something that made you want to be surrounded by him. 

What you didn’t know was that you weren’t alone in the feeling. 

Each time Tyler saw your smile, heard your laugh or felt your hand by his, his heart seemed to want to explode inside his chest. Of course, he wasn’t a stranger to the feeling. He’d had the same feelings for you for a while. 

The first time it happened was when he’d seen a genuine smile spread across your face when sat around the campfire by his truck when Boone was attempting to reenact Lily’s middle school cheerleading solo. 

He’d seen you smile before – though it was rare – but he’d never seen…you. In the glow of the campfire, joy in your eyes and smile, he knew he would wait a thousand lifetimes just to see you smile like that, again. 

Since dancing with you barefoot in the grass, Tyler had only seen your smile more. 

Which only made him fall faster. 

It all came to a head one evening. He’d just parked in your driveway, walking up the steps of your porch when you opened your front door with two tins of paint in your hands. 

You’d been painting your porch since the weather was nice and no storms were expected to develop over the next few days. Since he had some time free, he offered to help.

And sat on the grass, hours later, watching the clouds roll by in the sunset; your fingers and arms splattered with white paint, you and Tyler talked. 

Until, eventually, you both walked over to the tin bucket and began to wipe the paint away. 

“It’s not coming off.”

“Come ‘ere.” Tyler took your hand in his before dunking the cloth into the water and wiping away the stubborn paint on the edge of your palm. 

It was then that the world seemed to get quiet. There were no loud noises from up above, there were no incoming tornado warnings or people bustling about during the rodeo. There were no teammates trying to keep score of words or tones. 

There was just you and Tyler. 

Whether he kissed you, or you kissed him, first would be up for debate later. But until then, all you wanted was to be with him. To have his hands in yours. To have his lips on yours. To have his arms wrap around you in such a way that, for the first time, ever, you felt stable. All noise was drowned away, all worries cut their ties from your mind until all that was left was pure happiness. 

Which brought you to the moment all the Wranglers had agreed to come to your home for the day to take a break from the data, and the science. and the dragging of time being sat on the phone with different companies whose interest only ran so far into meteorology. 

“What time are they supposed to be getting here?”

You looked at the clock on your kitchen wall. “They should have been here twenty minutes ago.”

Tyler’s brow furrowed. “I’ll give them a call.”

And so he did. 

Which resulted in the Wrangler’s time of being super secret spies, being over. 

[grogwrites]

Drag - O.P. 81

Chapter 1: Opportunity of a Lifetime

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Summary: Street Racer vs F1 Driver, a connection that’s undeniable, and the opportunity of a lifetime.

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Female OC

CW: swearing, and OC is lowkey an F1 hater at the beginning lmao also I’ve never raced before so there may be inaccuracies with the street racing in the beginning. I’m doing my best ✋

A/N: AHHHHHH IM SO EXCITED FOR THIS ONE I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY Divider is by @saradika-graphics

Word Count: 2.4k

*DISCLAIMER: I do not know any of the people in this fanfiction personally, these are all just the works of my imagination.

Josie didn’t remember how she got into racing. Racing just sort of happened to her. Her mom would blame “bad influences” from school, but she knew she was chasing something more—a feeling. A feeling that was unnamed, and undecided. Though, that could be anything considering she didn’t feel at all anymore.

But as she sat in the seat of some stranger’s duped up Monte Carlo, speeding down I-15, her heart swelled. She looked in her side mirror, watching her opponents disappear into the night. A laugh escaped her lips as she applied more pressure to the gas pedal, attempting to go even faster, and attempting to push the car to its limit. It wasn’t her car—none of them were. But she never crashed, never slid, never faltered…her technique was perfect. 

Nothing beat the thrill of racing—the high speeds, the late nights, the adrenaline of trying to not get caught. Street racing wasn’t legal by any means in the US, but perhaps that was what fueled her to continue doing it: the chase. 

In a swift movement, Josie stepped on the breaks, drifting the car around the apex of the corner she was approaching. As she entered the off-ramp of the interstate, she was quick to slow her pace again—not that it would’ve mattered too much. Vegas was quiet at this time of evening. Not an officer in sight, or another living soul besides the other racers. 

She came to a stop at a red light. In her rearview mirror, she watched as the others caught up to her. She rolled down the two front windows, leaning back in her seat as one car pulled up beside her. 

“There’s no way you beat us in that piece of shit.” 

Josie watched as the man carded a hand through his hair frustratedly. 

“I mean, it’s a Monte Carlo,” he continued, clearly upset by the fact that he lost. “1985. They aren’t even fast by racing standards.”

“It’s a good car,” she leaned forward, patting the dash with her hand. “You just have to know it’s strengths and weaknesses to drive it well.” 

“That car has zero strengths,” he laughed shallowly. “I spent years modding the hell out of that thing, and it’s still garbage.” 

“Clearly it’s not,” she smirked, looking forward again. “I just think you’re not a good driver.”

“Oh yeah?” He scoffed. “And what makes a good driver?” 

She shrugged. “Confidence.”

Before he could respond, the light turned green. Josie quickly accelerated, losing sight of him once again. She felt the breeze sweep through her hair as she weaved through the quiet streets of the city. She let her arm dip out of the window next to her, feeling the cool air push against her skin. 

The drive back to the garage was always one she dreaded. It meant the night was over—the racing was finished. If there was some world where she could race for the rest of her life, she’d take it in a heartbeat. She envied those who had the luxury, but it was one that was always out of reach for her. Perhaps it always would be. After all, nobody living on the line of poverty ever made it into professional motorsports overnight. 

No, that only happened in movies. 

•

“Hot or iced?” 

The customer, deadpanned, stared back at her as if she had just asked them the most complicated question in the world. 

“Uhhhh,” they glanced up at the menu again, before looking back towards her. “Iced?” 

They didn’t sound very sure in their answer, but she didn’t feel like pushing the matter further. She quickly typed the order in as the customer paid. While they walked away, she felt her shoulders sink in relief. 

Only thirty more minutes and she could go home. 

She glanced up at the TV that hung on the wall across the room. The coffee shop she worked in usually played all kinds of different channels, but this weekend, it was all Formula 1. 

As a Vegas native, she grew to resent when it was race week. Which seemed ironic, given her usual nighttime activities. But to her, F1 was a joke. All privileged, rich men who essentially paid their way to their seats. She knew in her gut that, if given the chance, she could out-drive any of them. It didn’t matter, though, because that would never happen. 

“Last year, Lewis Hamilton got coffee from here.”

Josie looked over her shoulder to find her coworker, Maggie, watching the TV with her. 

“He was so nice,” Maggie beamed, meeting her gaze. “He gave us a great review, too.”

“Too bad he can’t win another championship to save his life,” Josie mumbled. “I mean, he needs to retire at this point. Same with the other old guy.”

“Alonso?”

“Sure, whatever,” she waved Maggie off as she began to untie her apron. “They’re both too slow. Going slow doesn’t win you anything.” 

“Going slow doesn’t matter for most of them,” Maggie commented. “Think about the money most of them contribute to the teams—the sponsors. If any of them were let go, then that team also loses money going towards the car. Depending on the driver, that can cost you a good car, too.” 

“Every car can be a good car if they try,” Josie quipped, letting the apron hang from around her neck. “I’ve driven shitty cars—ones that don’t even compare to what shitty is by their definition. What they have is privilege. They’ll find any excuse to whine.” 

“I guess so,” Maggie lazily shrugged. “I just think you’re jaded, though.” 

“Jaded,” she echoed. “Yeah, something like that.”

The two of them turned their focus to the TV once more. One of the McLaren drivers was on the screen, talking about his hopes for the championships. Josie watched as he fidgeted with his hat, while answering each question. He was soft spoken—gentle. Her eyes wandered to the bottom of the screen, where his name flashed across on a banner. 

Oscar Piastri #81

McLaren, Australia

“They’re expecting him to win his first Driver’s Championship this season,” Maggie spoke up again. “If anyone on the grid has talent of any kind, it’s him.”

Josie couldn’t help but laugh at her coworker’s remark. Him? Talent? The guy could barely speak loud enough for the microphone to understand him. He hadn’t sat still for the entirety of the interview, either. 

“You know what, I’ll take your word for it,” she lifted the apron off from around her neck, then hung it on the wall beside them. “Have a good shift, Maggie. I’ll see you later.”

•

“Well, well, well—look what the cat dragged in.”

Josie tossed her things into a small locker in the garage as Blake made his way over to her. Blake was the founder of their racing league…if you could even call it a league. She met him five years ago in some dual-enrollment college classes during high school. They hardly got along, but their one common ground was racing. They tolerated each other, because Josie brought profit into his garage. She never got a cut, but she could care less—after all, she wasn’t there for the money. She was there to do what she loved most: race. She was damn good at it, too. 

“Always a pleasure,” she grumbled before hoisting herself up on the countertop beside the lockers. “What’s on the agenda tonight? Any takers?”

“One,” Blake hesitated momentarily, like he was unsure of what to say next. “But, uh, things are gonna have to operate a bit differently tonight.”

“What do you mean?” Josie furrowed her eyebrows at him. 

“They’re not with any street racing league,” Blake explained. “I don’t entirely know how they found us, but they’re willing to keep the league a secret—under one condition.” 

Josie’s stomach turned. They only raced against other street racing leagues in Vegas. If Blake is allowing outsiders, it could pose a huge risk to their operation being shut down—or even them going to jail. As her heart pounded in her chest, she hopped off the countertop. 

“What is that condition?” She asked tentatively. 

“They want a fair race,” Blake continued. “That means both drivers in the same car, on the same route. Not too different from how we do it, but there’s a catch,” he took a breath, “they want to race the F1 circuit.” 

Josie didn’t mean to laugh at his statement, but surely he had to be joking. How the hell would they get inside of that place? But beyond that, how were they to get two vehicles inside of there as well? 

“I’m assuming you know how to pull this off?” She scoffed. “Blake, that’s insane. Look, we’re already taking a risk trusting some outsiders, but now you want to break into an F1 track for them?”

“They claim they know how to get in without getting us in trouble,” he threw his palms up in defense. “Besides, they’re offering to pay both of us pretty decent money to do this.”

“I don’t care about the money,” Josie replied, her tone cold. “I care about losing the only thing that makes me happy because of your greedy ass decision. How do we know this isn’t a trap?”

“It’s not.”

Josie and Blake turned their heads towards the two gentlemen making their way into the garage. She recognized one of them as the other McLaren driver, though she couldn’t remember his name. The person with him, however, was unfamiliar. Blake stepped forward, extending a hand towards the driver. 

“Lando, good to meet you,” Blake said. They shook hands. “This is my driver, Josie Reyes.”

“Thunderbird,” Lando grinned, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his joggers. His gaze lingered over to her. “I’ve heard about you.” 

Thunderbird. A horrible nickname given to her by some of the other street racers—one that was reminiscent of a past she was trying to forget. She didn’t budge as the Brit extended a hand towards her. 

“How did you find us?” She demanded. 

“You beat my friend in a race last night,” Lando cleared his throat as his hand moved back into his pocket. “In his Monte Carlo. I figured I needed to come and witness your driving myself.”

Josie’s eyes flickered between Lando and the gentleman next to him. He was older than all three of them. Quiet, and stagnant. He was dressed nicely: clean, pressed slacks with a black pullover. His grey hair was styled back in a pompadour fashion. 

“Who are you?” She asked. 

“Graeme,” the man replied flatly. “Just here for business. I’m with Formula 1.” 

“He’s the team principal for Cadillac next year,” Lando explained further, clearly sensing the tension in the room. “He’s in Vegas for ‘talent-seeking’ purposes.” 

“Why is he here with you?” Josie crossed her arms over her chest. “Don’t you drive for McLaren?”

“Like I said, he’s talent-seeking.” Lando paused for a moment. His eyes scanned Josie, as if he were sizing her up—seeing her worth. “I heard you’re undefeated in street racing around here?”

She was, but he didn’t have any business knowing that. Neither did Graeme. Whatever reasoning brought them here didn’t grant them the right to knowing about their league—or about her. She knew Blake didn’t care, though. All he cared about was the money, which they probably paid him a lot of it to be here right now. Blake didn’t usually give up information so easily. 

“That’s need-to-know,” Josie stated. “Why do you want to race me? Don’t you have bigger concerns right now? Like, I don’t know, winning a championship?”

“Josie—“

“You could get us into a lot of trouble,” she continued, talking over Blake’s poor plea to stop. “You could get in trouble, too. What could you possibly gain from this?” 

“All I want is one race,” Lando explained slowly. His voice softer, calmer. A stark contrast to hers. “I just want to have some fun. Graeme, on the other hand, wants to see you drive.”

Josie sat in silence for a moment, absorbing the driver’s words. Why would a team principal want to see a street racer drive? It seemed too good to be true, like maybe there was a catch of some kind. Proving her talent to Cadillac would be one thing, but she was a nobody. She had nothing to offer them other than her capabilities. No monetary value, no status to her name, no famous family members of any kind…just Josie. 

“What would we be driving?” Her tone wavered cautiously. She didn’t want them thinking she was sold just yet, because she wasn’t. But she also didn’t want to give up the opportunity to drive tonight. 

“Have you ever driven an F1 car before, Josie?” 

“No fucking way,” Blake spoke before she could. “An F1 car? You’re joking.”

“Hardly,” now Graeme chimed in. “I’ve received special permission for us to have the McLaren cars and the circuit this evening.”

“Yes!” Blake exclaimed as he laughed in disbelief. Josie shot him a quick look of warning. He cleared his throat. “Sorry, no. She hasn’t driven an F1 car before. But yes, we will totally do so tonight.”

“So I don’t have a say in this?” Josie shoved Blake, turning to face him. “I don’t think this is a good idea—“

“You have the opportunity of a lifetime, Jo,” Blake argued quietly, grabbing ahold of her wrist. “Are you going to seriously throw that away right now?” 

Josie could see an unfamiliar glimmer in Blake’s eyes. 

He was genuinely looking out for her. 

Despite all the years of constant bickering and tolerating each other, Blake was truly the only person who understood her love for racing—because he felt it, too. And, despite the wall she had up right now, he saw right through her. She wanted to drive that car, and he knew that. 

The opportunity of a lifetime. 

Josie’s gaze flickered between the three men in the garage. As Blake loosened the hold on her wrist, Josie felt something shift inside of her. Perhaps it was gut instinct, or perhaps they had successfully convinced her to drive. Whatever it was, her next words spilled out before she could think twice.

“Fine. I’ll race you.”

•

copy-write disclaimer: None of my writing is available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are appreciated.

Taglist is OPEN: @ezzi-ln4 @annaswrites00 @frankiejo04 @dreadity @whiteghostlyclouds @namelessmoons-corner @mashmashi @taetae-armyyyyy

[blueteller]

Hi! Can you please tell me the cannon events of ogCale. I want to know about ogCale's life from his childhood till his death.

There are too much misinformation about him in the fandom. I can't decide anymore what is canon and what is fanon about ogCale anymore.

I would also like to hear your head-canons about ogCale's past.

You might want to check out this recent post of mine, concerning what is canon and what isn't about OG Cale's personality. As for the exact events? Let's see... (Big Spoilers Ahead!)

OG Cale was born in year 763 of Felix Calendar (the particulars of the calendar are never elaborated upon), in the main city of the Henituse Territory: Rain City or Weston, depending on translation. While the details of his childhood are never directly stated, it's implied to be a happy upbringing by his parents, until the death of his mother Jour/Drew Thames (Jour was first proposed version of the name and I'm personally partial to it over EAP's "Drew") sometimes around the year 771. Jour got into a carriage accident when coming back from Harris Village, where she split her own plate and hid half of her Anciet Power, the Annual Rings of Life, making it seem like it was the carriage crash was the cause of her death. OG Cale only found out the truth about the even after he made the deal with the God of Death many years later.

Within one year Deruth Henituse, Cale's father, met and married Violan, whose past is mostly unknown aside from the fact that she comes from a merchant family (which raises all sorts of red flags, considering how the Hunters like to disguise themselves as merchants, but it might just be red herring) and that she had a son named Basen/Bassen from an unknown previous relationship (no mention whether she was married or not). Basen is 3 years younger than Cale, so he had to be born in 766, and shares no blood relation with him as his step brother (although Kim Rok Soo!Cale is unaware of this fact for most of the story, as he never was given any details about OG Cale' mother and her death). Deruth and Violand had another child named Lily/Lilly, Cale's half-sister, who was born in 774, 3 years into their marriage, when OG Cale was 11.

We know that in year 771 Basen and Cale had a conversation where OG Cale told him to pretend to be Deruth's biological son. From that point on, he did his best to act like "trash", aka. a spoiled brat, with the explicit goal to be kicked out of the family and pass the heir position to his step brother. In year 778, when OG Cale was 15, he added drinking to his personna and became known as an alcoholic with low alcohol tolerance and terrible, violent temper when drunk. It continued that way until year 783, when 18-year-old OG Cale met Choi Han, on his way to report the Harris Village massacre that occured on March 28th ("third month of the year" to be exact, but we never got any direct confirmation that that months were named differently in this universe, so whatever). "Drunk" OG Cale insulted the dead villagers to Choi Han's face, possibly because he was being "in-character", but canonically also because he hates Harris Village as the place where his mother died. Which lead to OG Cale's brutal beatdown documented in "The Birth of a Hero" series, Volume 1.

Now, let me dive into that for a bit, because there seems to be a huge misunderstanding about the following events among the fandom.

I carefully re-read the beginning of the novel recently (the official translation that is, mostly to see if there were any major differences from what I remembered of EAP's translation), trying to fish out as many details as possible about the TBOAH timeline. One intersting thing about OG Cale's introduction in the books that Kim Rok Soo read is that he did not actually appear just once. He was not a recurring character mind you, nothing particular being mentioned about him or the Henituse family after the first Volume, but it was clearly stated Choi Han "bumped into him a couple of times" before their final confrontation.

The way I see it, the timeline of TBOAH probably like this: Choi Han must have passed a bar where OG Cale was having a huge public tantrum over his wine not tasting good, causing it to be mentioned in TBOAH, which was written from Choi Han's POV. It probably did not count as a meeting though, with Choi Han having no reason to actually enter the bar. But that tantrum caused OG Cale to injure himself with a piece of broken table leg, making KRS!Cale notice that he did not have a scar on his side when he transmigrated; a specific detail which allowed him to place his position in the TBOAH timeline.

We don't know what Choi Han did for the next couple of days; possibly he spent looking for something to eat, a place to rest, or asking for information about where was the man in charge and how he should approach him. Maybe he spent time in the slums, met some homeless kids along the way (the reason why Cale had a specific quote in mind about them when he met On and Hong), got into some fight where he showed his fighting prowess (more on that in a bit), possibly went past the Man Eating Tree, prompting its backstory regardless of the fact that no one got the Indestructible Shield Ancient Power in the TBOAH timeline (at least, not within the first 5 Volumes which Kim Rok Soo had read). Kim Rok Soo never thought about the narration seeming too strange, and he's an observant guy. So it must have felt like natural exposition for the audience. Perhaps Choi Han met Billos/Bilose Flynn as well, prompting his introduction and backstory.

What we know for sure is that OG Cale and Choi Han had their "first meeting" the next day after Choi Han jumped over the wall (missing Hong and twisting his ankle as the result, slowing down his progress on top of physical and emotional exhaustion), while OG Cale was out and drinking. But I think it also makes sense to assume they did not exchange words just yet, as Choi Han was in full depression mode at the time had no reason to be chatty. It's possible OG Cale just threw a casual insult at him, reinforcing Choi Han's terrible impression of him. In other words, they had at least one "meeting" by that point in the timeline, but OG Cale did not get beat up just yet.

In TCF, Deruth also mentioned that "Cale would leave for the capital in five days", causing Cale to think how "OG Cale would get beat up in four days time", delaying the actual confrontation of these two from Choi Han's initial arrival quite lot - about a week, in fact!

Here's what I pieced together: in order for Choi Han to meet the Count he had to find way to get past the guards, without showing an identification or fighting them, which he was actively trying to avoid (his conscience recovered enough for him to remember not to kill innocent people regardless of his rage). So the meeting was no accident: he must have approached OG Cale on purpose, knowing that he was the son of the local Count. He probably asked for help regarding the Harris Village directly to OG Cale in hope that the man would be sympathetic enough to let him meet his father (not a very good plan, but probably the best one he had at the time). We also know it happened on a rainy day, and it did NOT rain when Cale first met Choi Han in TCF, nor the day after when he got the Shield, which took a couple days of buying bread for Cale to acquire (and when he finally did was only foggy, presumably because of On helping, but not raining!). After Cale got his Shield, it was explicitly stated that it rained heavily for a several days in a row; like during Cale's talk with Billos about his father. Once the rain passed, Cale was satisfied with the fact that the deadline for his beating had passed and he successfully avoided that fate.

So... Choi Han must have spent a full week in Rain City before he beat up OG Cale (minimum of 3 days of Cale buying bread, and 4 consecutive rainy days), unlike many fans seem to believe; the generall impression I get is that Choi Han stayed in the city for barely a day or two before moving on.

We also know that Beacrox/Vicross Molan met Choi Han exactly four days earlier in TCF than in TBOAH. Which leads me directly to the bottom of the misunderstanding I mentioned earlier.

In TBOAH, after Choi Han beat up OG Cale, there did not seem to be any legal complications for him; no mention of him paying a fine, since he was homeless and poor he couldn't have afforded it, and no mention of guards trying to arrest him. Either no guards witnessed the confrontation, or they chose not to help OG Cale. I find the second option hard to believe though, since what we have seen in TCF seems to indicate that despite OG Cale's behavior, the Henituse Territory's knights were quite loyal and competent. I think they probabably didn't see nor hear anything BECAUSE of the rain. Someone could make an argument that Beacrox COULD have seen something, but that's highly unlikely; instead, I think Choi Han must have had a fight with someone else, because it was mentioned that Cale wanted Choi Han and Beacrox to bond over Choi Han impressing him with his strength. I don't see how "impressive" it would be to see Choi Han beating up OG Cale, who was completely ordinary in strength... I think that's where the common misunderstanding among the fans lies.

To sum it up: I am fully convinced there was no one around when Choi Han beat up OG Cale. It was raining, OG Cale was too stubborn to admit defeat or to call out for help, and Choi Han was never arrested. I'm 100% certain there was no witnesses, especially not Beacrox.

And beside that, if we sum up days, we reach another crusial conclusion: Choi Han met Beacrox before approaching OG Cale.

It only makes sense from the timeline! When I mentioned earlier that during the week that Choi Han spent in the city, "he possibly got into some fight where he showed his fighting prowess", that is what I meant. Either Choi Han got into a fight with some thugs (which do exist despite the Henituse Territory not having a criminal underground; TBOAH narrative clearly states that OG Cale liked to terrorize thugs instead of bothering innocent people), and Beacrox happened to see it, or they bumped into each other and fought personally. Possibly both.

Choi Han's exact TBOAH activities might not seem all that relevant to the original question regarding OG Cale, here's where we come back to the main point. Namely: Ron and Beacrox leaving OG Cale behind to travel with Choi Han.

Since Ron was such an important figure in OG Cale's life, we can imagine him leaving (wihtout a goodbye or warning, no less) affected him quite a bit. But fans like to make extra drama, and somehow created this narrative where 1) Beacrox sees Choi Han beating up OG Cale and doen't stop him, and 2) Ron leaves OG Cale with the guy that harmed his charge without any care in the world. Which simply does not add up at all! This is the reason why I think that there were no witnesses when Choi Han beat up OG Cale: Ron absolutely would have tried to avenge him!! For his own professional pride if nothing else - he wouldn't have simply left with Choi Han if he knew!!!

Yes, Ron and Beacrox were under the impression that Choi Han was involved with Arm, due to him "having their scent" (more of my exact thoughts on that in this post). So they decided to follow him not because they LIKED him, but because they found him useful. Their comradery developed slowly and gradually after that misunderstanding got resolved and got to trust him more (and Choi Han lightened up a bit after the events in Harris Village). But I'mstill pretty sure they never found out about Choi Ha being the one who beat up the guy they worked for over a decade. The Henituse had always been generous with them, and aside from OG Cale's bratty behavior they really had no reasons to complain. And no matter his protagonist status, Choi Han certainly wasn't "charming" enough to make them forget all of their gratitude out of the blue.

You might be thinking, "but how could they not figure it out"? Well... OG Cale was known for causing trouble. Someone beating him up around the same time that Choi Han was in town? Doesn't mean much. And Deruth wouldn't have let it slide either! If he had any idea what Choi Han had done to his son (remember, he beat him up NEAR DEATH), Deruth would have never sent Hans to help with the proper burial of the villagers! That kind of gesture of good will just doesn't make sense, no matter how tragic the massacre was. OG Cale was clearly found and brought in for healing, Choi Han got the audience he wanted with the Count, OG Cale wasn't around to make any comments on it because he was stuck in bed, and Basen went to the capital for Zed's birthday instead in his older brother's place.

Then the terrorist attack happened, and the rest of 5 Volumes of TBOAH happened, followed by the Henituse Territory invasion by Clopeh Sekka... 20 years of war, erased from the timeline by the transmigration deal with the God of Death... and the rest is history.

So, here's the quick summary of my long, LONG post about what exactly is canon regarding OG Cale:

OG Cale was born in 763 (no exact month of birth confirmed)

His mother died in 771 (when he was 8)

Deruth remarried same year, Violan and 5-year-old Basen becoming Henituses

OG Cale started acting as a spoiled brat to help his step family

He added alcoholism to his personna in 778 (15 years old)

He met Choi Han in 781 a couple of times (18 years old); first time probably sometime 1st of April, and got beat up around 5th-6ths, around 1 week after the massacre of Harris Village on March 28th,

He probably spent the next 2 years trying to get himself kicked out from the family but Deruth nor Violan ever allowed it (because their love was unconditional)

Henituse Territory fell in spring of 783 to the Indomitable Alliance of the northern countries, officially lead by Clopeh Sekka of Paerun Kingdom

He transmigrated around 803 (40 years old), becoming 36-year-old Team Leader Kim Rok Soo

What fans commonly misunderstand and get mixed up:

Choi Han did not beat up OG Cale upon their first meeting

Beacrox did not see OG Cale getting beat up nor stood on idly the sidelines watching

Ron probably never found out Choi Han was the one who beat up his charge either

Neither did Deruth or anyone important someone would have tried to arrest Choi Han or at the very least fine or blacklist him from Rain City, none of which got mentioned in TCF

So Ron and Beacrox did not merrily set off into the sunset with the guy who beat up OG Cale, they left to keep an eye on the suspicious guy who smelled like Arm (Beacrox liked sparring with him but that was just a side bonus)

We do not know whether Basen died or got hurt in the terrorist attack as it was never explained in TBOAH, we just know he had to be there instead of OG Cale

It is implied that all the Henituses aside from OG Cale died during the invasion, but the how any why was never explored so anything about that topic is pure speculation from the fanbase

OG Cale fought in the war later but his exact role was never elaborated on either

I hope you find this helpful! Have a good day everyone 💖

[Bonus: I forgot to adress one last thing: the scene OG Cale witnessed in the final battle. OG Cale saw the White Star grab Choi Han by the arm (not the neck unlike most fanart of that scene!) and say the line about his time being warped. There is no mention whether OG Cale have ever actually met the White Star before that point, and there is no information regarding their relation (which is implied because of how similar they look and how White Star was able to use the Annual Rings of Life, which could be only used by the Thames). So anything about OG Cale's family is still yet to be adressed in canon. OG Cale's unknown relative (possibly uncle because of Jour mentioning her brother) showed up exactly ONCE, and he never even showed his real face. So everything connected to that stuff is still only theories and all.]

[bombshellsandbluebells]

Look, I think the "s2 was just objectively bad/pointless" takes are silly because I enjoyed every part of it and the "nothing happened" takes even sillier because it ignores the way s2 developed so many new characters (Helena, oIrving, oDylan, and Gemma were basically concepts in s1) or added new context to existing characters or several intersting character arcs or, hell, the entire Rescue Gemma plot, something that both starts AND comes to fruition entirely in s2...

My point is I think s2 did a lot but even ignoring those other things, one of the most important things s2 did was recontextualize the entire premise of this show.

It was never just about creating perfect worker bees for the sake of easy labor, although that is a byproduct - it was always about trying to remove all pain and discomfort from life by placing it on a version of yourself you don't consider human. You get to live a pain-free life by forcing someone else to carry it for you.

Thematically, this ties everything together, because the big question the show is asking is what makes us human? What constitutes a life and an identity? How do our experiences shape us? Can you truly escape the effects of pain and discomfort? Who do you hurt in the process?

And is it worth it to?

Everything goes back to this: Lumon's theology of Kier as a god-like figure who will "take away all pain", the privileged using Severance to avoid painful things like pregnancy, Mark getting Severed to avoid his grief, Petey getting Severed to avoid his messy divorce and hurting his family more, the fact that Cobel never got to grieve her mother but that pain never went away, the fact that severance was inspired in the first place to avoid the pain of child labour, the fact that Gemma's teeth and hands still hurt even if she doesn't know WHY, the differences between the innies and outies because experiences make us who we we are.

Even things like showing the hard times in Mark and Gemma's relationships tie back to this - the flashbacks to Mark and Gemma's life feel like the most real/grounded thing in this show so far and it showed us a relationship and life built on both good experiences AND painful ones.

Most importantly, the innies choosing to LIVE, to keep going, even though most of their existence is painful or uncomfortable. They learned to fight for their existence because of pain and grief. They form close bonds because they go through pain together.

And at the end, both Helly and iMark choose to stay in a place that hurt them, that will likely KEEP hurting them, rather than choosing non-existence, because the pain is worth it for a little more time alive and together with the people they love.

[fipindustries]

How i wrote Jennyffer

so now that the show is so close to its end, i think this would be a good time to take a look back and see how everything started. ive told parts of this story before but i think i never really gave a full picture of what was my thought process as i was writing Jennyffer.

dont worry this wont contain any spoilers as long as youve seen the first five episodes. so without further ado here we go:

the beggining

so frst i had to start with writting the letter J. this is very important because its the beggining of the name, without it the name wouldnt make sense at all, is how you enter into the word and set the pronuctiation for the next letter to come. the trick here was making sure it was upper case J, since its the first letter of a proper name, it as tricky but i think i did a good job with it.

next came the E, simple enough, is the most frequent letter in the english language, its a letter i had to use a lot in the past, so i was used to writing it. afterwards came the letter N, now here it gets a little complicated, because i had to do it twice, i had t make sure i didnt do it just once but also i had to make sure i didnt go overboard and wrote it three or four times. I really had to thread the needle on this one.

The middle of the process

by now we are well into it, i am getting into my rythm, im in the zone but i cant get cocky, here comes the middle of the word, the axis upon which the entire word rests, and to make things harder its a Y, one those rare letters at the end of the alphabet, on top of that it would have been so easy to confuse with an I because of how its pronounced, after all there are many versions of the jenni name that do come with an I. then comes the two Fs, now F is one of my favourite letters, it is the beggining of Fipindustries after all, im a bit of a nerd about F, i like to think im very well aquainted with it, also by now i caught the trick with the double letters after dealing with N, so that is a piece of cake. this all sets the stage for the final leg of the challenge, the ending

The cherry on top

by now i have fully hit my stride, im coasting clear, there is another E, easy peasy, basic stuff, as i said before. and then we have to end with an R, now this is intersting because i am latin american so the R has different connotation for me than it does for english speaking people, this is not an R that needs to be rolled, in fact is a very very soft R.

regardless i write the R and then i considered wether adding a little period at the end but i decided this was more elegant if it was kept slick and simple.

and that is how i wrote Jennyffer.

[valeisaslut]

hi! i'm usually a quiet reader but i can confidently say collide is one of the best works of fiction i've ever laid my eyes on, so i absolutely needed to reach out and give you my most sincere compliments. your writing style is remarkable, especially considering you're not even a native speaker, and i hope you continue to pursue your passion. no matter where it leads you in life, which i hope is far (in whatever way you deem fit), may your creativity never cease to exist and evolve.

i was just listening to one of my favorite artists to ever set foot on earth and i thought the lyrics could be applied to ellie and reader's dynamic, specifically from the latter's point of view. i'll take the freedom to quote the lines that might apply to them the most in my opinion, correcting the pronouns to enhance my point.

*"sleeping naked when it gets too hot"* - it made me think about how many times they've held each other both figuratively and literally bare in hotel rooms, where it would get too hot to handle anything (even the thinnest layer of fabric) but their skin separating them.

*"i watched her show her love*

*through shades of black and blue"* - how ellie opened up her heart to reader and decided to strain every part of herself that told her not to, all the while going through one of the hardest battles against both herself and addiction, which has slowly bruised her to the point of becoming impossible to hide. it also made me think about the marks her hands would leave on reader's body throughout their intercourses, showcasing the depth of her emotions in a way words never could've.

*"starting fights at the bar across the street*

*like you do"* - that's literally ellie. no cap.

*"the neighbors beat on the walls*

*while i'm face-first in the bed*

*show me how much i mean to you*

*while i'm lying in these sheets undressed"* - these lines are pretty much self-explanatory. i simply couldn't *not* think of them.

*"i'd hold the gun*

*if you asked me to"* - how reader would quite literally kill for ellie, or even sacrifice her own self if that meant going out knowing that the person she loves the most in the world is safe.

*"trouble's always gonna find you, baby*

*but so will i*

*crying only because i'm happy*

*hold me across every state line*

*i'm never gonna leave you, baby*

*even if you lose what's left of your mind*

*'cause you know i'll be right there beside you*

*riding through all these western nights*" - reader is always willing to be there for ellie. no matter how hard it gets, trying to put up with the frenzy that the life she chose entails and her lover's self-destructiveness, she'll always be by her side to hopefully mitigate the dread.

*"crying in the light of the TV static*

*i'll still be alright*

*clinging onto you like some love-blind addict*

*i'll be screaming your name*

*past the gas stations, trailing down the interstate*

*please, don't love how i need you*

*and know that one day, you and i could be okay"* - this reminded me of reader going through a hard time after realizing that love can't always be enough. but also, deep down, hoping all that consuming affection and care will, sooner or later, make things just a little more *bearable* for ellie, even if it's through indirect help (her contacting joel). believing that the woman she's loved unconditionally will get to see a *future*, one way or another. that there's a future where *both* of them get to live with less of a burden on their shoulders.

the song in question is Western Nights by Ethel Cain, just in case you wanted to check it out yourself. sorry for the long message, but i hope it brought you some joy and encouraged you to never stop believing in yourself and your undeniable talent. <3

oh my god. i just sat with this message and let it wash over me like a wave. truly. i don’t even know where to begin—the fact that you took the time to write this, to tie such a stunning piece of music so carefully to ellie and reader’s relationship, to speak so kindly about my writing… i’m honestly floored!

western nights is already a song that guts me, but reading your interpretation of it through the lens of collide? it cracked something open. every lyric you picked felt like it had been written for them. you saw them in those words, in the aching and the intimacy and the quiet devastation of loving someone so much it hurts—and you articulated it with such tenderness and insight that i felt like i was reading a secret chapter of my own story.

“i watched her show her love through shades of black and blue” — you got ellie. that’s her love language, whether she wants it to be or not. and that line, paired with the marks she leaves (physically, emotionally, spiritually), hit like a knife.

“i’d hold the gun if you asked me to” — this IS reader. the devotion. the ride-or-die energy. the desperation to protect ellie from a world she keeps throwing herself into.

“please, don’t love how i need you” — that one broke me. because that’s the part of their love that hurts the most—the need. the way it twists into dependence. and yet, still, that hope for someday. for okay. that’s collide’s heartbeat.

and beyond that… your words to me? they made me cry. truly. i’m not a native speaker, and this story has stretched me in every way—creatively, emotionally, even physically. sometimes i doubt myself so deeply i feel like disappearing. but then a message like this comes along, and it brings me home to myself again.

thank you. for your heart. your thoughtfulness. your quiet presence that still means so much to me. this was more than just a compliment—this was a gift. and i’m keeping it close forever.

🤍

[do-not-reply11]

 A Heartfelt Message

(FIND THE FULL FIC ON MY WATTPAD @do-not-reply)

Grover Underwood x reader

The call of the Gods is a hard harrowing journey in itself. You should be halfway across America now that you've crossed the South Dakota interstate boundary, but your journey is far from over. The possibility of seeing Grover once this is all done is the only thing keeping you going. There had been a major disturbance of the peace, and thus your quest to sort out the problem was born, as the source had originated in a place where no Gods land.

You weren't the greatest public speaker, so when Chiron initially approached you about the quest, you weren't interested in accepting it. As a representative of the Gods and the half-blood camp, you would be speaking on their behalf while submitting to any consequences that came with your position. Monsters and creatures alike were growing excited to see which would fall first as the debate about the possibility of war intensified, with humanity at stake. Therefore, it was more beneficial to toss a demigod in their place and wait for something bigger to bite.

You were assigned to go alone, which is even worse. Though, you're not much of a leader in a way that you could lead a troop into the heart of America or keep watch. Not that you weren't the best at interacting with people; in fact, back at camp, you're considered a social butterfly when you work out with the kids from the Athena cabin or race around the chariot tracks with the kids from the Demeter cabin.

The quest had led you to Minnesota in the back of a moving truck that was for a renaissance circus that was relocating, and you were wedged between two sacks of coffee beans and using a wooden box labelled as FRAGILE  as a headboard.  The aroma of coffee beans fills the air, and as you find yourself alone, your thoughts always turn to Grover—his lovable smile, his kindness, and his goofy jokes. You worried about leaving camp without telling Grover about your journey and not being able to tell him about it beforehand. He's the only person at camp who has never kept secrets from you. He was an open book, yet you have kept this selfish secret to yourself. Exhaustion licked your eyelids. You were gradually falling asleep to the sound of the truck's wheels dragging over gravel roads. Yet, when you hear the familiar shimmer of water rippling, you're wide awake. For a hot second, you think it might be Chiron checking in on how the quest is going, or maybe giving you a heads-up right before you get to your final stop. You groan in frustration, already sick of this journey and its stupid rules. Staring at you from the other side of the portal isn't the camp activities director, but him. It's Grover. 

"Hey, Grover—" You start, rushing to push yourself up against the coffee bags, but the look he has on his face freezes you in place, and you practically melt back into the crevice of the coffee sacks. You notice straight away that he's been picking at his horns again. You remember the first day you met Grover while on the chase of a curious beast who had caught your interest, and in turn, led to run into him when you genuinely ran into Grover face first.

"Are you in the back of a truck?" Grover's eyes have sunken in and stress lines crinkle his youthful face, now sporting a look of torment. He calls your name so soft, "Where did you go?" And your heart sinks. "I thought we were friends..." 

"We are." You reply in earnest, but it's too late and your heart is beating out of control as his glare sharpens through the shimmering rainbow. 

"Friends don't just disappear without a word. They don't go off on a quest without telling anyone, let alone vanish into thin air for an entire week!" His voice rises, matching the strain that is beginning to develop in your shoulders as your body begins to tremble violently. The pain in his voice almost forces you to smash through the wall that separates you from the driver's seat and order them to turn around. "Why didn't you tell me you were leaving?"

You open your mouth to explain, though nothing comes out. Unlike your defensive nature to retort, there was no reply coming to your mind. No banter, no excuses, though you had none. You knew you should've told him. Of course, you should have, but how could you? He has so many responsibilities, and you... you couldn't burden him with this. The guilt gnaws at you as you fumble for an excuse. "Why didn't you tell me you were leaving?" Grover repeats, and this time, there's no stopping the hurt that spills into his voice. "And why did I have to find out from Chiron, of all people?"

[tinkertoysdamn]

Stereo Hearts - We Built This City' Verse

Loki shuddered in irritation.  Things were progressing on the overall plan but the rogue Time Agents still needed help, specifically they needed raw muscle.  Mobius had made a suggestion, a good one in fact, but Loki was unhappy with it.  “I can’t believe we are considering this.”

“She was damn useful on the last mission.”  Mobius pointed out.  Thora Odinson had been not merely useful, but the powerhouse behind that particular success.  The fact that her presence had also annoyed Loki to no end was a bonus as far as Mobius was concerned.    

“Yes but she was also–”  Loki’s face screwed up in distaste.  “Pining.”  He spat out the word with great vitriol.  “Obviously.  Obnoxiously.”

It had gotten a little out of hand.  “Maybe if we pull her from another part of the timeline,” Mobius suggested.  

Loki lit up.  “Excellent idea.”  He clapped his hands together, pleased.  “Perhaps after some distance from those blasted Guardians, she’d be more tolerable.”

Considering how Loki had whined to Mobius about his own long-lost Sylvie, Mobius thought the trickster god was being a bit hypocritical.  Still—  “Here’s a good spot,” Mobius said, looking over his Tempad.  “It’s a few years later.”

Now fully on board with the idea, Loki’s eyes glittered.  “Do it.”

Once again, they teleported onto a spaceship, but this one was considerably larger and of a different make then the one they’d been on before.  “Good,” Loki muttered, “perhaps she’s taken up with new companions.”  

Then they heard the music.  It wasn’t nearly as old as that dreaded Pina Colada song, but it still made them pause.  It was entirely possible that Thora was traveling with others who liked Earth’s music, but it was doubtful.    

“Where’s it coming from?” Mobius whispered.  

Cautiously, they made their way down the hallway, ready for anything.  Except for perhaps that.

Up on a repair catwalk where two figures, one was partially buried in a vent, her fluffy tail peeking out and the other was Captain Brandy Quill.  Considering her state of dress, she had not been expecting company.  She was in a tank top and shorts, work gloves in place as they worked in tandem on a repair.  Every once and while she’d exaggerate a hip swing or a movement to dance along.  

Over the music Loki and Mobius could hear Rocket and Quill singing.  Judging from how they split up the duet, it was clear they had some practice.

“Appreciate every mixtape your friends make.  You never know, we come and go like on the interstate.”  Rocket’s voice was less than musically inclined, but it was earnest, carrying through the ship.  

Loki and Mobius lurked, not certain if they should draw attention to themselves or should sneak away without interrupting.  If they were careful enough, maybe they could avoid the wrath of the Captain entirely.     

It was then that the song shifted to the bridge.  Quill elected to stop her repair to tug on the mechanic’s creeper to get Rocket out of the vent, only to belt more of the song at her.  

“I only pray you never leave me behind—”

Rocket snickered under her breath.  “You always get so dramatic at this part.”

Quill was using her spanner as a microphone now.  “Because good music can be so hard to find.”

Rocket grinned.  “I should be filming.  Thunder Head would love this.”  

“I take your hand, hold it closer to mine.”  Quill was eating this up, chewing up the song and spitting it back out again with sheer unadulterated joy.  She tilted her head back, letting the spirit and lyrics pour out of her.  

“Thought love was dead, but now you're changing my mind!”    

“Okay,” Loki admitted to Mobius.  “She’s actually pretty good.”  Then he ducked as the spanner nearly collided with his head. 

Mobius jumped at the sound.  “Oh my god.”  

The music cut off.  Quill stared down at them with righteous anger.  “Don’t you dicks ever call?”

“Captain,” Loki tried to put on his most obsequious charm.  “Pardon the intrusion but this is only the second—”

“Fourth.”  Quill held up four fingers.  “Four times you flarking jerks have done this.”

“We’ve only been here twice,” Mobius said.  “I think I’d remember the other two.”

Rocket and Quill shared a disgusted look.  “Time travelers,” Rocket complained.  “At least it’s not in the middle of dinner this time.”

“Or when Tetrina’s trying to take a nap.”  Once again, the best friends shared a look, but this time one of a remembered agony.  

Things were getting off track.  Loki attempted to regain control.  “We’re here for—”

“We know.”  Quill pressed a button on her com-unit.  “Thora, your not-brother’s here again.  Collect him before we throw him out of the airlock for real this time.”

“Always with the airlock,” Mobius muttered.  

Quill wasn’t having it.  “Stop showing up unannounced and it won’t be a problem.”  

Less than a minute later, Thora barged into the room, already outfitted in her armor, her ax at the ready.  “Where are we going today?” Thora asked, beaming. 

“You seem awfully eager,” Mobius said.

“This is our fourth quest together,” Thora said.  “Why shouldn’t I be?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Loki could spot Quill making a “I told you” gesture. 

It seemed that his partnership with this variant of his brother would continue into the future.  Someway, somehow, Loki wouldn’t drive her away.  Loki found the thought more comforting than he would care to admit.    

“This shouldn’t be nearly so perilous as before,” Loki told her.  “But we need your strength regardless.”

“Excellent.”  Thora was more than up for the challenge. 

“Don’t bring her back full of holes this time,” Quill shouted down at them.  

“No promises,” Mobius said, dialing up the Tempad.  The Time Agents and Thor stepped through the portal, dodging any verbal barbs that Quill had left to throw at them.

As the portal closed, Thora said with a wide grin, "She's my girlfriend now."

Loki pinched the bridge of his nose. It had begun.

My heart's a stereo It beats for you, so listen close Hear my thoughts in every no-ote Make me your radio And turn me up when you feel low This melody was meant for you Just sing along to my stereo

[marta-bee]

Rachel Maddow's recent piece on J.D. Vance reminded me of an intersting fact about him. I don't really buy her analysis for why Trump chose Vance for V.P., but I also don't want to do a deep dive into that. Rather, let's talk about the Tolkien element.

See, among other things Vance was a venture capitalist who was groomed by Peter Thiel, the ultra-rightwing even bigger venture capitalist investor who among other things provided some early funding for Facebook. His views on freedom and the common good aren't so far from Elon Musk's. He's also owned or invested in companies like Palantir, Anduril, and Mithril; Vance himself is part-owner in another investment firm, Narya.

Apparently the Tolkien schtick is a bit of a thing with the far right.

I'm not surprised; I've certainly heard of a certain kind of fan who ties Tolkien's good guys to a kind of northern-European heroic past. And I'm not blind to where that reading comes from, if you plot Middle-earth on a map you can draw some pretty racist one-to-one connections. Shire=Englad, Rohan=old Germanic highlands, Gondor=.... Italy I guess? or Greece? some sort of Mediterranean high-classic society? And the less said about Harad, Easterlings, Druedain and Orcs in this analogy, the better, obviously.

I do wish these tech-bros cosplaying as heroic white-saviors would read a bit of the Silmarillion. (When is that not the case?) Or even The Hobbit, because the idea that evil folk are centered in what we might think of as Arda-Africa and Arda-Near Asia just doesn't hold up. Smaug attacked Erebor from the North. Angmar, as in Witch King of? Also from the far North. Similarly for Angband, Morgoth's fortress in the First Age. And without looking it up, I'm pretty sure Ungoliant -- you know, the devourer of light, the giant spider allied with Morgoth when he destroyed the Two Trees -- was from the wastes to the far north of Valinor. So much for a fantasy of Nordic white power resisting the corruption of the hordes.

Which isn't to say Tolkien didn't have his problems with race, he clearly did. But this idea that the heroes of the Free Peoples of the West were all from fantasy-northern Europe is so very simplistic, it makes my teeth hurt. The closest I can get to this read of Tolkien is that all Middle-earth was meant to be northwest Europe, but that would include the free folk and the baddies alike. Minas Morgul is right there across the river from Minas Tirith. Ditto Dol Guldur and Thranduil's halls. Ditto again for Rohan and Isengard. The map just doesn't line up the way these idiots need it to, to make this fantasy work.

(Never mind anyone trying to put Tolkien on the side of historic-Nazism is just cuckoo bananas. Do I really need to dig out Jirt's admittedly hilarious response to his German publisher demanding he certify if he was of Aryan blood?)

But as fun as it is to bop the far right on the nose again and again, I think this focusing on literal racism misses the bigger point. I think a lot of the far-right drawn to Tolkien and other similar fantasy writers see the wolrd in rather apocalyptic terms: an existential threat to their civilization and everything they consider noble, a need for a hero to stand up against this age's Sauron. War must be, etc., etc.; and the stakes are so high, any niggling concerns we have about the proper way to obtain and exercise power must be overlooked. Our noble leader is the only one who can protect us against the encroaching darkness, and anyone who would stand against him might as well be an agent of Mordor.

The thing is, that doesn't sound like Gandalf, or Aragorn, or Frodo. If anything it reminds one of Denethor, who "saw in all the deeds of that time only a single combat between the lord of the White Tower and the Lord of Barad-dur; and mistrusted all others who resisted Sauron, unless they served himself alone."

Assume the Right is correct that we're facing an apocalyptic struggle against... entitled socialism-enabled laziness, or moral relativism, or multiculturalism, or wokeness, or whatever exactly it is. That people aren't doing noble and worthwhile things, they aren't working hard to build something that's worth preserving, that we are slipping into laziness and hedonism and whatever else and we're certainly not embracing virtue. If that was true, it's something I'd like to fight against. But the point of the far right, of Vance and Trump and all the rest, is it takes a singular hero to fight that fight for us. That we need to be marshalled and gathered under a single banner and commanded by a single voice.

There's no room for Smeagol to find the ring in the marshes of a certain riverbank, or for Bilbo's riddle-games, or for a decent Baggins of the Shire to stand up and say: I will take the Ring to Mordor, though I do not know the way. There's no room for chance meetings, or chance in any form; or for grace, or eucatastrophe, snatching joy from the jaws of despair.

And the thing is, Denethor was wrong. Not just because it wouldn't have worked, but his narrow vision came down to "mere politics," doing what must be done rather than what was truly right. That's kind of central to the narrative. It hurts me deeply to say that, because I'm usually so keen in my defense of him, and I truly do believe he's one of the most unfairly maligned characters in LOTR. But it's also true that the War and the necessity of Gondor's survival, the palantir and even his pride has really twisted his character, and he's just not capable of coming back from that. Gondor wouldn't have survived without him, I don't think, but precisely becuase of the way he had to shape himself to make that survival possible, there's very little place for him in the Gondor-to-Come. Moses didn't make it to the Promised Land, either.

J.D. Vance is no Moses, or even a Denethor. He's certainly not an Aragorn. And as for Frodo, if Vance would even deign to see himself as one of the Little Folk? Fuggedaboutit.

I'm rambling. This is my barely-edited, first-flush response to how wrong the idea that Tolkien's legendarium could be telling the same story as Vance & Co. I mean, I get it, I do, but also they're so very very wrong. The fact the wrongness is so blindingly obvious should probably tell us all something.

I would pay good money, though, to see him try to defend Elrond's letting Isildur walk away with the One Ring. Colbert should really get on that.

[nietr]

Okay, if your interests lie in the occult, the esoteric, alchemy, magick, and all of those kinds of things in general and also find the Team Silent Silent Hill video games along with other things like, environmental storytelling, symbolism, and even psychiatry/psychology a big interest of yours and you have never watched Reinstall Paul's analysis and unpackaging of these games (in this case, the second installment), then boy do I Have a treat for you.

This is not your typical analysis of Silent Hill monsters and basic surface level deconstructions of said monsters and themes.

This is a very deep dive into just how how much of a masterpiece these original silent hill games were and how much blood sweat and tears went into creating such a profoundly deep game that most would just consider a "spooky game with spooky settings." and a walk through of the deepest yet most subtle symbolic things and pretty deep meanings behind the most seemingly minute things in these games most people would completely miss due to the fact that they're not even closely initiated in the most surface level of esoteric and occult concepts and symbolism.....

If you're interested in Silent Hill, and all of the things I just posted above, please give this dude's videos a minute of your time because it might blow your mind.

I've never in my life became a patereon for anyone nor donated to any other streamers for anything and yet chose to pay for this dude's deconstructions (videos early) because I found them so profound and so interesting and worth the couple of dollars considering the time and effort put into these breakdowns.

imo this is undoubtedly the smartest and best silent hill content creator even if he doesnt have a hundred hours of gameplay videos. This is a simple case of quality > quantity.

imo, best silent hill youtube content to ever exist. give it a chance if youre intersted in any of this... its worth it.

(btw he also has similar videos for silent hill 1 and 3 and this is just the first video out of a whole playlist for the second ilstallment.

Here is the full playlist (X) [for silent hill 2]

[woozapooza]

The Sopranos: The Verdict

Wow. That was a show. A very good show. Very cynical and depressing, very funny and endearing.

Early on, my impression was that the show was sort of poised between episodic and serialized storytelling. But ultimately, one of my favorite things about the show ended up being how continuous and coherent a story it told. Characters remain relevant long after they die. Lines spoken in season one are deliberately echoed in later seasons: in the pilot, Carmela tells Tony that he’s going to hell, and in “Whitecaps” he throws that back in her face; in the season one finale, Tony tells his kids to “remember the little moments like this that were good,” and in the series finale AJ reminds him of that advice. I love stuff like that. It makes the story feel so alive. 

Favorite character: without a doubt, Dr. Jennifer “Toodle-Fucking-Oo? What the Fuck Was That?” Melfi. I love her dedication to her work; I love her stubbornness; I love her professionalism; I love when her attitude gets in the way of her professionalism; I love her composure with her patients; I love how fiery and messy she can get when she’s not with her patients; I love her emphatic way of speaking; I love her thrill-seeking streak. I love her moral compass. She doesn’t always heed it, and you can disagree with how it’s calibrated, but it is calibrated nonetheless. Am I mixing metaphors? Can you “calibrate” a compass? Whatever. I love her. I could go on and on about her, and I will do so in future posts (for example, I WILL be making a post about The Blue Comet at some point because oh boy do I have thoughts about that episode), but to wrap up this bullet point: she’s one of the greatest characters I’ve ever met. 

Second favorite character: Christopher “I’ve Been Totally Fucking Ostrafied” Moltisanti. Nearly everyone on this show gives glimpses of who they could have been if they’d grown up in a different environment, but in few characters are those glimpses as tragic to me as they are in Christopher. He has a great capacity for violence and recklessness and selfishness, and the life he’s lived has nourished these traits, but there are many signs of who he could have been. There’s his passion for screenwriting. There’s the fact that, however briefly, he considers running away with Adriana in “Long Term Parking.” There’s his fight against addiction, which might be the most impressive effort anyone on this show makes to change for the better when everyone and everything around them is dragging them down.

Third favorite character: It’s gotta be Tony. It’s just gotta. He’s despicable, but he’s not evil. If he was evil, the show would be boring and pointless.

Johnny Sacrimoni is a serious contender for fourth place, and I don’t even know why. I just couldn’t get enough of him.

It’s hard to rank the characters because almost all of them are just SO fantastic in one way or another. The one main character I just didn’t care about was Junior. He just wasn’t interesting to me. But his last scene still made me really sad.

In my mind I have a small canon of Dynamics, which is the word I use for relationships that are (1) extremely important to both the characters and the story and (2) too complex to be given a simple label such as friends, enemies, lovers, coworkers, etc. I am officially declaring Tony and Dr. Melfi a dynamic, so congratulations to them. Tony and Christopher are something very close to a dynamic as well, though they’re disqualified due to being family. (I have a bunch of arbitrary rules for what counts.)

Two most confusing things about the show: 1. The interstate mob politics were often hard for me to follow. 2. There were soooo many characters, I could never keep them straight. I actually have no idea when certain major characters made their first appearance because it took me such a long time to learn their face and name.

I hope Carmine held on to his realization that happiness is worth more than power. He could be the one person to actually change their life. I hope he’s thriving. I hope he’s got more films under his subspecies. 

EDIT: One thing I forgot to say: I don't think I ever cared about a single one of Tony's mistresses.

I could have used less gratuitous nudity, especially since it was almost always women. Honestly, the gender disparity was more annoying than the gratuitousness. Either the women shouldn’t have to take their clothes off so often, or the men should start pulling their weight!

Overall grade: I really, really wanted to give this show an A+. Even after it moved my beloved Melfi to the sidelines, I was still going to put my personal feelings aside and give it an A+. But then in one of the show's few instances of clumsy storytelling, it fumbled her last episode, and I can’t excuse that. It's possible one day I'll forgive it for its sins and bump it back up to A+, but for now, it gets an A.

[emelinstriker]

Okay i'll be honest, i'm watching It and got curious. What if reader is a victim of this creature?

I mean, in romantic route reader would be a survivor of Pennywise and now has to go back to Derry to fight the monster with her friends once more(because he wasn't intersted in playing with any of his other victims besides the main cast).

And in platonic...something i need to check: the champions would be able to meet reader when they're a child, right?

Anyway back to the platonic way, like they're a child that survived something traumatic, maybe their sibling dissapeared and none of the adults seem caring enough to search, they have a monster that changes into thing they are afraid the most, is invisible and untouchable to adults, controls the adults, and wants to eat them.

I can speculate that it will be especially scary for Mk considering that he's afraid of spiders and (book spoiler) Pennywise is a spider-like creature.

Ps. Love your AU. And sorry for the long rant.

So lil note beforehand: I've never watched/read It myself and have only seen some clips of the movie, so I ain't well-versed in all that could/would happen with the servants around for specific moments.

That being said, the Reader would generally have their own protection squad scenario going on regardless of how/when they meet the champions tbh. Others may not believe them if they say they're basically being hunt down, but the boys would believe them whether they can see the creature of not. They can tell through their bond that their Master's fear and anxiety is real, after all. And they'll make sure of their Master's safety and comfort.

Mink would probably provide the best type of protection though, all things considered. Alone due to what he is, can do, and the fact that sucking the Reader into the scroll is like the ultimate last defense.

[ask-cookie-run-rarepairs]

FIRST OF ALLL HIIII SORR FOR THE BOTHER BUT I NEED TO SHARE THIS RARE PAIRRR.

Matcha×Truffle or MossyCobweb as i call it a total of never cause no one cares for the ship but me and no one cares for matcha but like 2 ppl [me and some rando] so i wanna ask what would you rate this ship....and how do u rate them?

Hello! Sorry for the super, super late reply. It was my first time running a blog and first time going to college, so I was extremely burnt out about a month ago and just...forgot about the blog. Again, I promise that I will not throw a random hiatus without a warning in the future. Again, I'm sorry.

Funnily, I was looking at Matcha earlier today and I manage to stumble across a comic creator image for Matcha x Truffle. I was literally thinking to myself: huh, what an interesting ship!

If you mean rating them as in giving a numerical rating, I will give them a 5/10 personally. I see why they are shipped: both of them are eccentric (and elderly?), and that's cute. It's just that their aesthetics together does not really match my taste--or maybe more importantly, I can barely see Matcha with anyone romantically. HOWEVER, I do wish the best things for Matcha and Truffle! They both deserve lots of love in-universe because they both feel very isolated from other cookies.

Anyways, if you mean rating them as in giving pros and cons, here they are!

Pros:

Friendly elderly people hanging out in creepy mansions (v i b e s)

Misunderstood by the outside world; bond together to heal their loneliness!

Potentially super intersting plot where Matcha shows up randomly one day to Truffle's mansion because she was abandoned by DE. Truffle takes her in and realized that Matcha barely talks (canon) and seems naive about common sense (this is just a headcanon), and slowly bonds with her

Matcha likes plants (Herb's relationship chart), so she can decorate Truffle's mansion (cute!)

Cons:

Honestly all cons are subjective, and I kind of already gave me reasons above

I guess objectively, they are a rarepair? But the fact that I'm running this blog clearly means that I don't consider being a rarepair a bad thing lol

You need lots of imagination to justify how they'd meet (not a bad thing imo! I love imagining headcanons and scenarios)

Yeah, I hope this answers sufficiently! Feel free to DM me to chat more about the ship or send another ask!

[ellies-cycling-notes]

Day 1: Narragansett to Long Island

Distance Covered: 82.27 miles

Total Time (including rests): 9:54 (7:14am-5:08pm)

Time spent riding: 7:04

Average Speed: 11.6 mph

Apples Eaten: 3 (fuji - 6/10, granny smith - 7/10, fuji - 7/10)

Overview of the ride itself:

Today's ride was split up into 2 parts: I first had to bike down to the Cross Sound Ferry in Connecticut (approx. 43 miles), then I took the ferry to Long Island and had to bike to my campsite (approx. 39 miles). I will refer to these as the pre-ferry and Long Island parts of the ride, respectively.

The pre-ferry component of the ride was more pleasant for 2 reasons:

1) it's the first part of the ride, so I wasn't that tired for it

2) There wasn't much shade in the Long Island portion, and it was HOT today. I almost considered stopping to get cold water when I was only 5 miles away from my campsite.

The pre-ferry part had one large comparative downside, though: it was really hilly. I think it would've made the fact that I was already tired so much worse if it had been the second half of the ride.

During the pre-ferry part, I took a snack/early lunch break around 20 miles in. I then obviously took another break for the ferry ride (it was about an hour long). During the Long Island part of the ride, I didn't take any breaks and just biked all the way to my campsite.

That's it for the bookkeeping, now for the fun part: thoughts, ideas, and things I noticed on the ride!

Bike Roads Terminology

I spent a lot of time thinking about this at the beginning of the ride, because I realized I'm going to be referring to certain types of roads in this blog, it'd be good to have a description of what I mean when I use those terms.

Disclaimers: (1) these are not official terms for types of roads, they're just terms I tend to use (2) my usage of these terms may not be consistent and is subject to change (3) there may be roads that do not fall into one of these categories; that's fine, these categories are neither holistic nor rigorous

Key:

Name/Road Type - Definition - Difficulty Level (# out of 10) (this number represents how much I don't want to ride a road of this type - thus, a lower number is better) - Reason for Difficulty

Road Types:

Highway - Interstate roads, wide lanes, cars going 70+ mph, will sometimes have wide shoulders you can bike on; are usually named something like I90 - DL: 9 - Highways are some of the most unpleasant roads to ride on; cars going way too fast and there's no good place to ride; luckily, bike routes will practically never have you actually riding on a highway

State Road - 2+ lane roads, usually have a speed limit of 30 or 45 mph, or, in rare cases, 60 mph; aren't super busy; will sometimes have rather wide shoulders that can serve as bike lanes; these are often roads that are named things like Route 9 - DL: 4 or 7 - Not the most pleasant, but not hard to ride on; the two different difficulty levels are for whether or not there is a wide enough shoulder that it can be treated as a bike lane

Side Road - These are roads that exist mostly in more rural areas, are usually 1-2 lanes, and are notable for having a lot of connections to driveways of houses. Oftentimes I'll refer to side roads as state roads and vice-versa; this is because they have many overlaps of features; cars usually have a speed limit of 15 or 30 mph, or rarely 45/60 mph. A notable difference between these roads and state roads is that side roads are more likely to be hilly and curvy; and side roads will typically have street names such as Collins Road - DL: 4 - while there are usually much fewer cars on side roads than state roads; the hilly-ness of side roads can make them be much more unpleasant at times; this is issue is amplified by all the baggage loaded onto my bike for this trip

City Street - roads in cities; what more needs to be said? Speed limits can range from 10 mph to 30+ mph - DL: 2-8 - while never as dangerous as highways, city streets can greatly vary in difficulty due to many reasons, including (but not limited to): amount of traffic, smoothness of pavement/number of potholes, rudeness of cars, pedestrian traffic, speed limit, and existence of bike lanes

Main Street - this is a subcategory of city streets. When I refer to city streets, I am usually referring to them in cities or other large urban centers. Main streets specifically refer to a central street of a small town; while they do not have bike lanes, they are usually much more pleasant than city streets. I call them Main streets because that is often what they are actually called - DL: 3 - Main streets are pleasant to ride on, and the cars on them are usually rather nice; the only downside is that they are not built with bikes in mind, so oftentimes the pavement isn't the best

Bike Trail - Paved roads that are specifically there for bicycles (and sometimes runners). These trails are often completely out of the way of cars, and sometimes follow old railroad trails that are no longer in service - DL: 1-2 - these are some of the best roads you can ride on; they sometimes get difficult if there's too much traffic or the pavement isn't well-kept, but the advantage of being able to ride without worry of cars on mostly flat ground more than makes up for the disadvantages

Hiking Trail/Gravel Road/Off-Road - I'm grouping these together, because all that matters is that these are all types of road I would be fine riding a mountain bike on, but because I have a heavily baggage-laden road bike on this trip, I want to avoid them as much as possible. They usually have very little traffic, but very poor pavement, either dirt, gravel, or some other soft or grainy material - DL: 8 - still better than highways, but otherwise the worse (see my initial rant)

Shoulder - This is not a type of road, but rather a part of the road. It mainly exists on highways and state roads, as the space for a shoulder on other car-based roads is often taken up by parking spots. It refers to the section past the white line that defines the border of a road. Sometimes it's miniscule, taking up only a foot, in which case you have to ride in a car lane, and sometimes it's larger than a car and makes a decent bike lane. On highways, the shoulder is often intentionally rough so that if a car accidently drifts onto it, they'll notice and readjust themselves. - DL: N/A

That's all of them for now! For reference, on today's ride, the pre-ferry part was an even split of mostly state roads and side roads, with a small number of bike trails. The Long Island part had a large number of state roads, a smaller number of side roads, and a tiny amount of gravel roads.

Notes on the Ride Itself

Gold Star Memorial Bridge Bike Path is closed - it's the only 1 bridge anywhere near New London (where the ferry to Long Island is), and I couldn't bike across it. Luckily, there was a shuttle that could carry my bike across that comes every 30 minutes, but for the like 10 minutes between learning about the closure and discovering the shuttle, I was really stressed out, because I didn't know if I'd be able to make it to the ferry in time.

I had an opposite feeling not 30 minutes later when I arrived at the Ferry port at 12:05 (my ferry ticket was for 1pm), and the guys at the dock told me I could just get on the 12pm Ferry which hadn't left yet. This didn't really affect my plans much, except for the fact that it meant I didn't have to idle around at the port for an hour, and would instead have an additional hour at my campsite in the evening. This also ended up giving me more time to work on this post :) !

Small things I saw/experienced on my ride:

a deer: it was on the shoulder of the road, maybe 20ft ahead of me. I wanted to take a picture, but it noticed me and ran into the woods before I could

an upside-down construction sign: this was an orange construction sign where the metal pole that served as the base of the sign was standing upright, and then at the top of the pole there was a orange rectangle, on which all the words (which were construction details) were upside down

shakiness: for the first 30 minutes (maybe longer) of my ride, I was still getting used to the balance of my bike with my luggage, so I was rather worried I'd tip over. This shakiness largely contributes to why I do not want to ride on any gravel road/etc. if I can avoid it

the cemetery: for some reason, my Google maps suggested I take a shortcut through a cemetery on Long Island, so I spent a good 5-10 minutes riding through an empty cemetery before getting back on actual roads. The funniest bit of this is that it really wasn't even much of a shortcut, it saved a minute, tops.

Old Main Road: this is another Google maps strange occurrence. In Long Island, there's a long state road called Main Road, which my route followed along for a good portion. However on a part of the Main Road (around here: https://maps.app.goo.gl/cgfphLKsKeJnXKBY8 ), Old Main Road splits off of Main Road and then rejoins less than a quarter mile later. This happens twice in quick succession. The strange occurrence I was referencing is that both times Google Maps suggested I take Old Main Road, even though that route would be slightly longer.

large roadkill: on the ride, there was a rather large roadkill I saw (the size of a large cat). I almost ran over it, and didn't get a good enough view to figure out what animal it was.

private communities/streets: on the ride, I saw a lot of places that were either private communities or private roads for residents only. My favorite, though, was the Oakwood communities. I'm biking along, and up ahead, I see a sign that says "Private Road - North Oakwood Residents". I'm like, fine. But then I turn my head, and on just the other side of the road, a sign says "South Oakwood Private Community". I latched onto those 2 communities and spend the next several minutes of my ride thinking up imaginary feuds that may exist between these 2 near-identical communities across the street from each other.

Post Ride Notes:

I did about 20-30 minutes of yoga after finishing my ride, which seems to have really helped my sore body (especially my back, which was really hurting at the end of the ride).

Camp setup went well (there might be some pictures in another post). My campsite doesn't have a shower, but it does have potable water, so I might soak my head at the very least (I have not yet, as of writing this post).

I have eaten 3 PB&J sandwiches today, and I haven't even had dinner yet (as of writing this, again). I expect I'll probably start getting tired of them in a few days, so I might need to switch up my meal prep (probably after Philadelphia or maybe DC).

Design Notes:

I spent a lot of the ride today thinking about the blog itself, my road classification system, and being stressed out about whether I can actually do this, so this section is rather short. I hope it will be longer in future posts, as it's the part I enjoy thinking about/writing the most.

Why I'm not good at Narrative Design:

I spent some time on my ride today thinking about Narrative Design. I think it was brought forth from the fact that I've been reading a lot of works recently, of which the quality of the narrative varies greatly. I like to think in terms of systems, but I can't create a holistic system that describes a person, which makes it really hard for me to do narrative design on a character level. On the other hand, I don't have the same issues with designing worlds, because I'm able to start by designing the mechanical systems of that world, and then other aspects sprout forth from that. A good example of this is fictional histories. Because these histories can be broad strokes, I don't have many issues designing a general system from a world, and then basically determining how I believe history would play out if that world worked according to that system. That's also probably why I so often have issues with worlds in media that have magic, because they're often just based in some time period of human history "but with magic", without taking into consideration how the existence of magic would have affected the development of that world. The issue I have with doing the narrative design of characters is sometimes similar. I often know one note which I want a character to hit, but everything else is left as a blank slate and never really filled in.

That's all for tonight! Some of this is written as I thought it up on my ride, some of it was revised to make more sense, and some of it probably still doesn't make much sense. Hope y'all enjoyed these random trains of thought!

Today's Pics -- Next

[british-catgirl]

these were gonna be tags but oh god never thought about it like that; but that is horrifying to think of

while I don't think Carol is the knight; this single-handed lets me see that she may still be the one on the phone.

WE KNOW THAT SHE'S ON THE PHONE AT THE END OF WEIRD ROUTE

my theory is now that she's the white text and the knight is the red text, which I think is somewhat common, but my new headass revolutionary theory is that Kris wasn't even supposed to be on call in the kitchen study of Kris' body language throughout (screenshots from Whsipernyan's video

what we hear from up there, Kris is not paying attention, Kris is quite literally taking a shot of something (white voice being carol, Kris really doesn't want to listen to her)

Kris locks the fuck in on hearing the red voice but more importantly, Susie (if the red voice is the knight as we think, then perhaps Kris would rather listen to them) another thing to note about the red text is its directness

unlike the white text, the red text talks to Kris directly, and about a matter that would be unimportant to the current plan, but is very important to Kris. My theory is that Carol is unaware that Kris is here and the Knight let Kris into the call. my main reasoning?

the white text doesn't do this. it refers to them as if they aren't here. in fact, the red text cuts off this text with the prior image. The Knight seemingly cuts off Carol because the Knight knows that Kris is listening and doesn't want them to hear what Carol will say (also, on hearing the word 'stop' as in regards to stopping Susie, Kris lowers their head a little. just a little detail that's worth mentioning. they don't want to 'stop' susie)

Kris also lowers their head after hearing tonight's plan, the church where toriel is SUPPOSED to be.

this is thefinal message which renforces the idea Carol/White Text doesn't know Kris is listening. Really, Kris was only meant to hear what the knight had to say, but ends up listening to more due to us stalling Also, touching on the ending

Kris did not answer the phone. The phone turns on without input. Compared to the weird route's ending scene...

where Kris has to manually has to answer the phone. the first seems to be some sort of reminder Kris has set on their own phone or has been set on their phone. the second is something goin awry and going unexpected and Carol having to manually call Kris to confirm something with them. which make sense given the context. overall, I find Kris very intersting in this dynamic. we can assume it's only a three person effort, Kris, Carol and the Knight. Carol is obviously the one with power the one in full control of the outside Light World making sure nothing about the execution CAN go wrong. The Knight is the one making sure all of the Dark World stuff and actual execution of the plan goes ahead, consider them the brute of the plan. With them, they basically dictate the flow of the Dark Worlds. Kris, however, doesn't deal with Light World or Dark World stuff. They deal with our world. Kris is a specialist. They are, in some way, baby-sitting the one uncontrollable variable. Despite that, they're still performing so much and going through so much, even killing a titan, while battling with the player, who, in some way, is essiental to the plan, and is essential that it doesn't destroy everything else before hand. Kris still has to make a dark fountain and slash their own car's tires to bait in Undyne. Even the act of keeping us contained is a multi-faceted juggling act. The precision needed to succesfully DISARM A SOUL IN A SINGLE SHOT, TWICE cannot be understated. And keeping the whole thing a secret? Hell on earth. That's why weird route's whole conflict causes Kris to crash out so much. They failed. We've multipled. On top of everything; Kris has to babysit Noelle if they want to babysit us. We don't have enough to say what promise was made or even Kris' wider motivations or how Kris got into this mess. We do know one thing. They're having a horrible time.

What's really evocative to me in all the new revelations and hints about Kris' true nature and intentions in Chapter 4 is the impression that... Kris is never free.

When they are free of our direct control, they are still not acting 100% of their real desires, they are following the orders of some evil Voice(s?) on the phone.

The ending seem to imply some sort of emotional conflict between them wanting to help out Susie, who is very dear to their heart, and following this plan which is probably not beneficial to her. A plan that they have to follow cause...

When Kris is not controlled by our very literal puppet-strings, they are instead controlled by the coercion and emotional manipulation of their mysterious benefactor. No matter which option they go with, Kris just cannot be free.

[static-and-noise]

Album Chat

I'm introducing a new segment! I have a bad habit of finding one song from a band and never listening to anything else they've created-- and there are a lot of these one-offs on my playlist. So I'm going to make an effort to, once a week, listen to and talk about one new-to-me album here as sort of a companion series to Radio Static.

So without further adieu, here's my thoughts on something I listened to this morning-- "Welcome Interstate Managers" by Fountains of Wayne, released in 2003.

Welcome Interstate Managers is sort of considered to be Fountains of Wayne's 'hit' album, inasmuch as they had one, because it includes one very specific song-- Stacy's Mom, which still holds up as a fun, iconic rock song about only hanging out with your friend so that you can ogle her mom.

Outside of Stacy's Mom, Welcome Interstate Managers stands out as an album built on slower tracks built on a core of very interesting yearning. I was particularly caught by Hackensack and Valley Winter Song, the fourth and sixth tracks respectively. They showcase this sense of yearning really well, but it's not just a romantic yearning that the narrator keeps-- instead, it's also the yearning of wanting to do anything but stay in the same town and work the same dead-end job forever and ever. There's this motif of people moving away and getting to do interesting things while the narrator remains in both songs. I think 'desperate, heartsick boredom' could be considered a core thesis of this album, and I know that I personally respond well to those ideas and concepts!

However, I wouldn't call this a no-skip album. I didn't enjoy Hey Julie or Halley's Waitress, to an extent that I considered finding something else to listen to. Hey Julie was one of the singles off of this album, and it feels like that may have been a mistake-- it's once again another song about a dead-end job, but this time the narrator takes comfort in the fact that his (girlfriend?) is always there when he comes home. That early line about "But when I get back home, you're always there to rub my back" struck me as a little weird, and as the song continues, it just felt . . . icky after that. I wasn't sure I totally trusted that this narrator felt like his girlfriend was a person, if that makes sense, and it kind of ruined the song for me.

Halley's Waitress, my other song that I'm not sure I would ever listen to again, comes immediately after Hey Julie and is entirely based around the fact that the waitress at this restaurant takes so long she may as well be Halley's Comet. While it didn't feel as misogynistic to me as Hey Julie, it was just . . . kind of dumb? It wasn't even dumb in a fun way, like how sometimes songs are kind of stupid but they've got a good rhythm. It was just a stupid, slow song about waiting for coffee.

Overall, I would suggest you give a listen to Welcome Interstate Managers! I enjoyed most of the songs, and Fountains of Wayne has a very relaxed feeling that I was not expecting from their music. There's a desperation to this album that's really well-hidden in upbeat music, looking to run away from dead-end jobs and finally find that dream girl. At its core, Welcome Interstate Managers is about looking for something that will finally make you happy, and I think that it reflects that well.

Static's Recs:

Mexican Wine Bright Future in Sales Stacy's Mom Hackensack Valley Winter Song Fire Island Peace and Love