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remywrites5 · 5 years ago

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Angst 10 and 14 please! Thank you💚

Remus knew he was making a mistake going to the party but Lily was practically forcing him to go. Lily had recently gotten over her hatred of James Potter and had decided to give him a chance. They were going to James’ party so that she could finally tell him she fancied him. She’d threatened Remus with bodily harm if he didn’t go with her for moral support and he knew Lily was the type to follow through. It was a month before Graduation and there was a party pretty much every weekend as people got ready to never see each other again. Normally Remus wouldn’t have had an issue attending a party with his friends except that his ex-boyfriend was going to be there.

Remus and Sirius had had a very intense on again off again relationship for the past two years. The whole school liked to talk about them and follow their relationship, something that Remus wasn’t wholly comfortable with. There was actually a twitter that followed whether they were together or not. And if that wasn’t accurate you could usually tell by Sirius’ Instagram. When he and Remus were together he hardly posted pictures about anything else. When they were apart his Insta was mostly pictures of him and James, football practices and selfies.

It wouldn’t have been so bad except that during one of their good periods Sirius and Remus had decided to live together during University. There were both going to the same school and so it had made sense. Remus had saved all his money from his part time weekend job just to be able to afford the security deposit, which they had already put down on the flat. They had yet to talk about what they were going to do about it seeing as it was a one bedroom and neither of them could really afford it on by themselves. Maybe Sirius could if the Potters helped him out but Remus certainly couldn’t.

Their most recent breakup had been because Remus had dared to mention in Sirius’ presence that he thought Fabian Prewitt was fit. It had been an idle comment and one he hadn’t thought would be a big deal except that Sirius Black was a jealous prick and a drama queen. It wasn’t like Remus had wanted to get off with Fabian Prewitt, he had just been making an observation. It had been blown out of proportion and ended in a huge row that resulted in yet another breakup.

Sirius was guaranteed to be there seeing as it was his best mate’s party and was also being thrown where Sirius currently lived after running away from home. Remus knew he was playing with fire stepping into the house but between the two of them Lily was much scarier than Sirius.

As they walked into the party, Remus stayed close to Lily. It was fairly crowded already for still being early in the evening and Remus hoped he’d be able to make it through the evening without being noticed by Sirius. Pretty much everyone he had ever known was crammed into the house with loud music playing. He thought maybe he could make it through the night without seeing the one person he was most dreading.

All his hopes were dashed as they made their way into the kitchen to find drinks. Sirius was sitting on the kitchen counter, his legs dangling over the side, with James standing beside him and laughing. Sirius grinned until his eyes settled on Remus and suddenly all trace of mirth was gone and his face fell.

Remus really hated the affect Sirius Black had on him even after all this time. He had his long hair swept up into a messy bun, pieces of it falling down and framing his handsome face. He had on his favorite pair of ripped jeans, a Bowie t-shirt and his usual leather jacket. Remus shoved his hands in his pockets and looked away quickly, unable to continue to meet Sirius’ gaze. Why couldn’t help love someone a little less complicated?

“Alright Remus?” James spoke up. “Evans? Can I get you two something to drink?”

Lily gaze Remus’ hand a squeeze and then disappeared with James to go procure some alcohol. Remus felt himself immediately start sweating at the idea of being alone with Sirius. Just a few minutes into the party and his worst fear was coming to fruition. Sirius huffed and knocked his drink back, finishing what was left in his cup. He slid off the counter and got directly into Remus’ personal space. “You’ve got a lot of nerve showing up here.”

“Lily dragged me,” Remus said, narrowing his eyes at Sirius, not backing down. “It’s called being a good friend.”

Sirius snorted in derision. “Yeah? And what about being a good boyfriend?”

Remus resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “We’re not going to go through all that again, are we?”

Sirius scowled at him in response. “I’m sure Fab’s around here somewhere if you’re looking to pull.”

Remus couldn’t resist anymore and rolled his eyes. “I’m not interested in Fabian Prewitt.”

“Then why did you say you were?”

“I didn’t,” Remus said for the umpteenth time. “You’re infuriating. You can think someone is good-looking without wanting to fuck them. Like you for example. Still think you’re fit, don’t want to fuck you.”

Sirius stepped closer and Remus took a step back. “That’s a load of bollocks if I’ve ever heard it.”

“You’re an unbelievable dickhead.”

Sirius’ gaze flickered to the floor and suddenly his bravado from a moment before was gone. “Do you even still love me anymore?”

Remus took another step back, caught off guard by the question and the earnestness in which Sirius had asked it. “Pads, you’re the one who broke up with me.”

Sirius shrugged. “We do that all the time, though. It’s like a game we play with each other. But – but we had plans, Moony. We were going to have a future. Our flat –“

“You don’t get to just bat me around like a tennis ball and think I’ll always come back,” Remus said, interrupting Sirius. He couldn’t help being annoyed and angry that Sirius thought he was always just a sure thing. That he could treat Remus however he wanted because Remus was a sucker who couldn’t resist him. “That’s not fair, Sirius.”

“I know,” Sirius said softly, finally lifting his head up, his grey eyes soft and sad. “But youdon’t get to hurt my feelings and expect me to just shrug it off.”

Remus groaned and tugged his fingers through his curls. “For the last time, I don’t want to shag Fabian Prewitt! I had no idea your ego was so fucking fragile, Pads.”

“Then why did you say it?” Sirius shot back, crushing his red solo cup in his hand angrily. “We’re just deliberately trying to be a wanker?”

“It was just a dumb fucking comment!” Remus said defensively. “Like oh that was a tough maths quiz. I could really go for some Chinese Food. Fabian Prewitt is kind of fit. It wasn’t like I maliciously thought oh I know what I’ll say something to make my boyfriend feel bad. Won’t that be fun?”

“Maybe I just selfishly want my boyfriend to not talk about other guys in front of me. Wouldn’t that be novel?”

Remus took a deep breath and let it out slowly to try and compose himself. “It’s a good thing we never moved in together then. We’d kill each other within a week. It’s for the best that we ended things when we did.”

Sirius’ eyes went wide and he looked more hurt than Remus had ever seen him. Remus had to fight the urge to reach out to him and offer him some sort of comfort. “Right,” Sirius said, schooling his expression. “For the best.”

Sirius turned on his heel and rushed through the party, disappearing into the crowd. Remus pressed himself back against the counter and buried his face in his hands. Well done, Lupin, he thought to himself.

***

Remus had decided to ditch the party early and just go home. Lily had disappeared somewhere and things had gone horribly with Sirius. All Remus wanted was to just go home and wallow in misery and maybe chain smoke some cigarettes on the walk back to help calm him down. But when he started towards the exit, someone grabbed his arm.

Remus whirled around to find James. “What do you want?” Remus asked, knowing that James must be seeking him out on behalf of Sirius.

“Look, I know things are bad between you two right now but please go talk to him?” James asked, his eyes wide and pleading behind his glasses.

“I already tried that,” Remus informed him with a deep sigh.

“I know,” James said, releasing Remus’ arm. “He’s upstairs sulking. There’s only a few weeks left of school. You two are only going to have a limited amount of time to fix this. He loves you, you know? Maybe even more than you realize. I know he’s a difficult sod but he’s absolutely mad for you. Why do you think his Instagram becomes nothing but the Moony show when you’re together?”

Remus chewed his bottom lip as he considered it. He knew that Sirius and James were practically brothers and James would always stick up for Sirius. But that also meant he knew him better than anyone else. He did have a point, Sirius did become nearly obsessive when they were together. When things were good between them they were really good. Remus just wished one or both of them weren’t so bloody stubborn all the time.

“Fine,” he said, glancing towards the stairs. “I’m not guaranteeing anything but I’ll go speak to him.”

“That’s all I ask,” James said, grinning at him. “Thanks Moony.”

Remus made his way through the crowd of people, being careful not to bump anyone’s drink, and finally got to the stairs. He found Sirius in his bedroom, sitting by the window with his knees pulled up to his chest. He didn’t say anything as Remus entered the room and came to sit down beside him.

“Sirius – “

“No.”

“Come on – “

“I said no,” Sirius said, uncurling himself and dropping his feet onto the floor loudly. “Just shut up for once in your fucking life, Remus.”

“Fine,” Remus snapped, standing up to leave. He worked his jaw for a moment and then sat back down obstinately. “You know what, no.”

Sirius glowered at him. “This is my room. Get out.”

“I’m still in love with you,” Remus told him, staring him down. “And if you don’t stop you’re going to run out of chances.”

“Me?” Sirius said incredulously. “It’s not just me, Remus. Don’t pull that shite. You fuck up just as much as I do.”

“Okay fine, I’ll admit that,” Remus said, conceding that just as many of the breakups had been his doing as well. “But we can’t keep up the way we’ve been going because eventually one of us is going to stop coming back. I’m not going to let you keep pushing me away. We have to get better at talking to each other and not just exploding. I don’t want to keep doing this, Sirius. I want things to be good.”

“I want that too,” Sirius said softly, reaching out and taking Remus hand, lacing their fingers together. “Every time we break up I’m a fucking mess. You can ask James.”

“Then stop breaking up with me, you plonker.” Remus lifted their joined hands up and kissed the back of Sirius’ hand tenderly. “We might have to actually learn how to apologize to each other,” he managed to joke.

Sirius chuckled quietly and gave Remus’ hand a squeeze. “I still want to live together.”

“Me too,” Remus said, giving Sirius a small reassuring smile. “It’ll be a disaster, but fuck me, I want it.”

“It’s only you, Moony,” Sirius said, wiggling closer and kissing him sweetly. “For me. It’s only you. We’ll figure everything else out but I want you to know that.”

Remus slipped his free hand into Sirius’ hair, resting it on the back of Sirius’ head, bringing their lips together again. “I don’t want anyone else,” he whispered against Sirius’ lips. “Even though most of the time you drive me fucking crazy.”

Sirius smiled and pressed kisses along Remus’ jawline before burying his face in Remus’ neck and nuzzling him affectionately. “I’ll try my best not to drive you crazy anymore.”

Remus laughed and pressed a kiss to Sirius’ temple. “I don’t mind as much as I let on,” he confessed. He supposed that was just the nature of being in love with Sirius Black.

#wolfstar #i write things #high school au #angst #long post #anon prompt #modern setting #sirius black x remus lupin #fluff

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one-d-library · 4 years ago

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Longer Fics

Here are some longer (mostly Larry) fics, most have multiple chapters: Organized by length, this is mainly chaotic but oh well.

Longer Fics (2) can be found here!

TGIF by dinosaursmate {explicit, 20k, smut, friends to lovers, childhood friends, OT5 friendship}

“So, you moved in today?” “Yeah.” Louis huffed. “I’ve had to leave all my friends behind in Donny and move here because my mum got a good job. And this house is bigger than the one we were in, so that’s good. But I just… I was popular, I had loads of friends, I was captain of the football team. I don’t think the school I’m going to even has a football team.” “What school are you going to?” “St. Mary’s.” ”That’s my school!” Harry stopped, and the ball hit his foot. “I’ll be your friend.” Louis smiled, and something about it made Harry’s stomach twist uneasily.

“That’s sweet, Harry. But I can’t exactly hang out with an eleven year old.” Harry’s mouth twisted into a frown, but he kicked the ball back anyway. “Okay.” “We can hang out here, though.”

Louis, 13, moves in next door to Harry, eleven. They immediately hit it off and quickly become best friends, but as they get older, things get a little complicated.

The Melody You Never Heard by bananasandboots {explicit, 30k, smut, friends to lovers, slow burn, OT5 friendship, camping AU}

It's one last adventure. One last chance to be young and carefree. One final weekend before they take up their internships, their corporate positions, before they enter the real world, fresh out of university. Niall's his best mate. Liam's been there for him since they were lost, little freshmen, trying to find their ways through an overwhelming first year. Harry can't disappoint them, even if it means enduring four days with Louis.

Louis, who he does share a history with, a history he's never told anyone about, not even Niall, a history he hasn't brought up in three years because it's stupid and embarrassing and confusing.

Or, the one where Harry gets roped into a four-day camping trip with the boy who kissed him and never called back.

Long Before We Both Thought The Same Thing by allasavedtheday {mature, 36k, smut, friends to lovers, slow burn, OT5 friendship}

“So are you admitting you love Harry yet?” Louis pauses in the middle of his story about the movie he and Harry went to see last night to raise an incredulous eyebrow. “What are you on about? Of course I love Harry.” Has Zayn lost his mind? He’s been friends with Louis for nearly seven years and Harry for six, under what circumstances did it appear like they didn’t love each other? “Okay, let me rephrase,” Zayn says, an amused little quirk to his mouth like he knows something Louis doesn’t. “Are you admitting you’re in love with Harry yet?” Louis stares at him in bewilderment, mouth working as he tries to form a response. “I…what?”*

Or, Louis maybe, sort of realises he's in love with his best friend of almost twenty years and he maybe, sort of thinks that said best friend could love him back?

[there is a sequel to this written by the same author, it is If You Asked Me If I Love Him (I’d Lie), it’s really good!! they hide their marriage from their families at Lottie’s wedding but fail miserably]

Promise Not to Fall by dimpled_halo {explicit, 38k, 2 chapters, smut, friends to lovers, slow burn, hiatus fic, canon divergent}

Louis raises his eyebrows. “You want to be friends with benefits?” Harry shrugs, “If that’s what you want to call it then, yeah. Why not?” Louis brings his hand to rub the stubble on his jaw, seeming lost in his own thoughts. “Okay, I’ll agree on three conditions.” “One: no sleep overs.” Harry nods, “Okay." “Two: if either of us finds someone else we call it off no questions asked.”Harry isn’t sure why his stomach turns at that, but he agrees anyway.“ And three,” Louis’ face hardens, “you cannot, under any circumstances, fall in love with me.”Harry snorts, “Yeah, okay,” he chuckles lightly.

or- When One Direction goes on hiatus, Harry and Louis reconnect, becoming the friends they once were during their days in the X Factor. It doesn’t take long for their friendship to evolve into friends with benefits, unable to resist the physical attraction between them. Things get complicated when feelings get in the way.

The Sound of Your Voice From Far Away by pukeandcry {explicit, 39k, smut, friends to lovers, slow burn, canon compliant}

It'd be perfect, he convinces himself. Things with Lou are – well. They're the way they are, and there's no point dwelling on why it's got that way. But he thinks this would help -- not fix them, because they're not broken. They don't need to be put back together, they're just. Out of sync, maybe. It would help. He thinks it would, anyway, if they could just be the two of them again, to be alone together with no outside influences pressing claustrophobically in on them, just for a bit. And driving down an empty highway with nothing else but Louis beside him is the best way to do that that he can imagine.

Or, after the U.S. leg of the Take Me Home tour, Harry and Louis drive from L.A. to NYC. They figure some things out, like how to deal with the distance that's been growing between them.

All Eyes On You by rainbow_kings {explicit,49k, 2 chapters, smut, slow burn, established relationship, road trip AU}

Harry and Louis have been married for ten years and they have three children. When their relationship is threatened with a divorce, they pack their belongings and go on a road trip in means to save their relationship. They promise to stay on the road and only returning once they've sorted through their problems.

Never Let Me Go by loveisalaserquest17 {explicit, 55k, 3 chapters, slow burn, angst, pining, friends to lovers, OT5 friendship, smut}

“Harry! I’ll tell you what,” Louis exclaims, clapping his hands together. There’s a big grin on his face. “If both of us are still single by your thirtieth birthday, we’ll marry each other.” Harry’s head snaps up, eyes widening. “What?”

Harry and Louis have been friends forever, but they couldn't be more different. One night, with a little too much alcohol, they make a pact to marry in ten years if they're both still single. Now, one month before the deadline, Louis is willing to do whatever it takes to avoid ending up with his best friend. But is he, really? | Loosely inspired by The 10 Year Plan

Here In The Afterglow by fondleeds {not rated, 88k, 3 chapters, 1970s AU, highschool AU, period typical homophobia, angst, fluff, slight friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, OT5 invovlement}

“If you hadn’t noticed, I don’t have many friends,” Louis whispers, the blossom of insecurity in his stomach unfurling and clawing its way into his throat.

Harry is silent for a long time, and then he speaks; a soft, slow uncurl that makes Louis’ stomach shake. “I’ll be your friend.”

1970’s AU. In a tiny town in Idaho, Louis’ life is changed forever by the arrival of a curious stranger.

Unbelievers by isthatyoularry {explicit, 136k, 10 chapters, smut, slow burn, football AU, enemies to lovers}

It’s Louis’ senior year, and he’s dead set on doing it right. However, along with his pair of cleats, a healthy dose of sarcasm and his ridiculous best friend, he’s also got a complicated family, a terrifyingly uncertain future, and a mortal enemy making his life just that much worse. Mortal enemies “with benefits” was not exactly the plan.

Or: The one where Louis and Harry definitely aren’t friends, and football is everything.

And Then a Bit by infinitelymint {explicit, 158k, 14 chapters, smut, friends w benefits, fake relationship, canon divergent + compliant, OT5 friendship + involvement}

“We’d like to give the fans what they want.” Magee states, placing his hand on the table in front of him and leaning forward. “We want to give them Larry Stylinson.”

Or, take a parallel universe where Louis and Harry were never together, mix in a two year hiatus and an impending comeback, pour in a dash of lost fans, two tablespoons of strong friendship and a Modest! employee with a good idea. Add a squeeze of pretending to be a couple, lots of kisses and a tattoo or two. Stir. Serve: the mother of all publicity stunts.

(aka Harry and Louis fake a relationship for publicity. Eventually it becomes a lot less fake and a lot more real.)

Given a Chance by fabby {explicit, 173k, 12 chapters, smut, slow burn, angst, fluff, nouis friendship, exes to lovers, canon divergent}

Five years after One Direction took their last tour, the last thing Louis Tomlinson ever expected to happen while on a tea run at the local Piggly Wiggly was to run into his ex-boyfriend and ex-bandmate Harry Styles.The odds of them ever running into each other again had to be super slim, right? Wrong.

What happens when you mix ex-boyfriends with a large serving of Small Town America? Will Louis and Harry be able to set aside their differences, or will Louis be able to stay breezy as fuck in the wake of Harry’s arrival?

(or, the one where Louis and Harry run into each other five years after One Direction ends and learn how to love each other again. Featuring: Reggie as the overweight labrador, Niall as Louis’ last grip on reality, and Nowheresville, North Carolina as the setting for Louis’ worst nightmare to come true.)

Young & Beautiful by Velvetoscar {mature, 227k, 34 chapters, slow burn, angst, uni AU}

Louis, to his horror, attends an elitist university in which the name Zayn Malik means something, Niall Horan doesn't stop talking, there are pianos everywhere, and Harry Styles, only son of a drug-addled, clinically insane ex-rocker, has a perfect smile and empty eyes.

more fic recs can be found here!

#longerfics #longerfic #longer fic

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meghanpage · 4 years ago

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To the Stars Ch. 1 - Maiden Voyage

Words: 1832

Also on AO3

---

The dock was packed with bodies, all jostling in their queues, voices raised in wonder at the massive ship waiting for them.

The RMS Titanic stood proudly in her moorings, dwarfing the huge crowd waiting to board. Cranes lifted crates and other cargo onto her deck, while first class passengers were escorted up the gangplanks and third class made their way through health inspection. White Star Line porters raised their voices to direct the crowd, checking luggage and welcoming passengers aboard. And through it all, no one could reign in their thrill over the phenomenon of a ship - the biggest ever built, a marvel of engineering.

The nasally toot of a car horn broke through the din of the crowd, warning people to move aside for the trio of cars trundling down the dock. As they rolled to a stop alongside the ship, the driver of the lead vehicle jumped from his seat and hurried around to the side, opening the door and holding out a hand for the passenger.

She took it and stepped gracefully out of the car, onto the wood of the dock. Tilting back her wide brimmed hat, Valentina took her first look at the ship that was to carry her away.

Before this moment, everything had seemed like a far-off idea, just talk and planning. With her father’s death had come the revelation of his debt, and the family fortune had been whittled away. Her sister Eva had decided there was only one thing to do to secure their futures: have Valentina marry, and marry well.

So Valentina had found herself with a ring on her finger. Her grief for her father had lingered, and she felt bitter that she wasn’t given her time to mourn, Eva pushing her to get over it and go socializing as soon as possible. Even so, it had been easier to just play her part, winning over a respectable man and letting her sister handle all the arrangements.

It didn’t matter that she didn’t truly care for Lucho, that sometimes she could barely stand his presence. She was almost as good at ignoring her own wishes as he was. He was a gentleman of high standing, someone who could secure her and her sister’s futures.

So she had done what she had to, and accepted his proposal. She knew what was to come, but still, it had all felt so distant, more like a rumor of someone else’s life.

But now the Titanic was in front of her, and it was all too real.

Someone exited the car behind her, and Valentina looked over to find her fiancé, Lucho, gazing at the ship with pride, as if it was he that had built it.

In the mood to be a bit petulant, Valentina remarked, “I don’t see what all the fuss is about. It doesn’t look any bigger than the Mauretania.”

Lucho scoffed. “Don’t be like that, Vale. This is Titanic! It’s over a hundred feet longer than Mauretania, and much more luxurious.”

Valentina said nothing, letting his adulations of the ship wash over her like so much background noise as she wandered a little ways away. Lucho shook his head, holding out his hand to help the last occupant of the car step out. “Your sister is far too hard to impress, Eva.”

Eva gave him a polite chuckle, her own eyes fixed on the Titanic. “So this is the ship they say is unsinkable,” she said, her voice appraising.

“It is unsinkable,” Lucho stated grandly. “God himself could not sink this ship-”

Valentina was glad when a porter interrupted Lucho about their baggage, letting her take in her surrounding without his grandstanding. She watched as workers loaded luggage onto pallets, as lower class passengers had their heads checked for lice, as people already aboard waved jubilantly from the decks of the ship. All around her in the thronging crowd, voices were raised in excitement at finally boarding the Titanic .

All she wanted to do was scream. Her father was barely cold in the ground, and here she was, being carted back home with a veritable stranger by her side. She didn’t understand how Eva could even think of leaving the place where León was buried. Still, to ensure her family was taken care of, this was likely the best option she had.

Besides, she was a well-bred lady, and knew she was expected to act like one. She pushed her discomfort down and focused on the moment.

“Chivis, my coat?” she asked the family maidservant, receiving a confirmation as Lucho herded the group towards the loading area. Chivis was an older woman who had worked for the Carvajals for as long as Valentina could remember. She was glad she was there, a familiar face to keep her company.

All too soon they were scaling the gangplank, porters just inside the doors to greet each passenger with a proud smile.

With Eva in front, Lucho to her side, and Lucho’s manservant, Montilla following close behind, Valentina couldn’t shake the feeling she was being led onto the ship in chains.

---

Juliana studied her opponents around their small table, searching their faces for any tell, no matter how fleeting. She kept her own face carefully neutral, despite the way her heart was pounding in her chest. Piled in the center of the table was all the money she owned, down to the last cent. It was a risk, a huge one, but she figured that since she had nothing, she had nothing to lose. Besides, the contents of the pot were well worth the gamble. It was all in, everyone having turned out their pockets. A Swiss army knife and a pocket watch joined the jumble of coins, and on top was the piece that had everyone’s palms sweating - a single steerage ticket for the RMS Titanic.

Juliana discarded a card, hiding a tremble in her fingers as she drew another. Her fate depended on this card. With this draw she could be traveling on the greatest ship the world had ever seen, traveling towards home and her mother’s embrace… or she could lose everything.

As she added the card to her hand, she had to fight to keep a smile from her face. A ten. Paired with her other ten and her trio of threes, she had a full house.

She couldn’t celebrate yet though. She still had to see what the other players had.

“All right, moment of truth,” she said. Someone’s life was about to change, right there in that pub.

She watched as the other revealed their cards one by one. The woman to her left threw hers down with a scowl, showing nothing of worth. The man across the table had nothing as well, leaning back in his chair in defeat.

That only left one player. Juliana’s hear picked up speed once more, threatening to beat out of her chest. One last player, but the most daunting one. As the person who had bet the ticket, he had the most motivation of them all to win it back.

He fixed her with a smug look, and Juliana’s stomach swooped as he laid his cards out.

“Two pair,” she remarked, almost breathless. A two pair. She couldn’t believe it.

She had done it.

Shaking her head contritely, she let out a sigh. “You sure do make it hard,” she told the man. A look of triumph passed over his face, but before he could start celebrating, she continued, “Hard for me to wipe you clean. Full house!”

She slapped her threes over tens on the table, jumping to her feet in victory. The table burst into motion; the man across from her leaped to his feet to check her cards, while the man she had bested slapped his hands to his head, his face painted in stupefaction.

Juliana was unable to stop the laughter that poured from her. She snatched the ticket from the table, holding it high. “I’m going to America!”

“No, lass.” The barkeeper’s voice cut through the din of excitement. “Titanic is going to America. In five minutes.” He pointed his thumb over her shoulder to the wall clock, which showed five minutes to noon.

With a curse, Juliana scrambled to scrape her winnings from the table into her canvas bag. Tossing the bag over her shoulder, she dashed out of the pub and towards the ship. As she sprinted full-tilt down the docks, weaving through the crowd and dodging carts and equipment, she couldn’t help but let out another laugh. She had done it, she had won, and soon she would be riding in high style.

She spotted a gangplank just being pulled away from the ship and put on an extra burst of speed, shouting for the porters to wait.

“I’m a passenger! A passenger!” she called as she rushed to the end of the gangplank, waving her ticket at the porter who was hanging out of the open door in the side of the ship.

He shot her a suspicious look. “Have you been through the inspection queue?”

“Of course,” she lied easily. “Anyways, I’m American.”

The porter hesitated for a moment, but then relented. “Right. Come aboard.”

Juliana jumped the space between the gangplank and the door, giving the porter a quick thanks and hurrying off further into the ship before he could question her further. As she darted through the crowded third class corridors, she couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest son of a bitch in the world.

Bypassing her bunk, she raced straight for the upper decks. She found an open spot at the railing and dropped her bag at her feet, leaning out over the top rung.

Breathing hard, she finally let herself take it all in. She was on the Titanic, the largest and most luxurious ship the world had ever seen. And it was going to take her back home. It had been years since she had seen America - even longer since she had seen her mother. They had kept in touch during Juilana’s travels, but it had been sporadic, and the idea of seeing her ma’s face again made her chest ache. But through an extraordinary stroke of luck, she could now be on her way to do just that, Chino be damned.

She let herself get caught up in the jubilant atmosphere as everyone waved and shouted to those seeing the ship off down at the docks. A wide grin crossed her face, but she didn’t wave - she didn’t know anyone down below, although that wasn’t the point. As the crowd around her called their farewells, she made her own goodbyes to that part of her life. She said goodbye to the rolling British countryside and the twisting streets of Paris, to England, to France, to Spain.

And though she truly would miss her time in Europe, it was time to look out across the sea, to another new chapter in her life.

#amar a muerte #juliantina #valentina carvajal #juliana valdes #fanfiction #my work #titanic au

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kittinoir · 5 years ago

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Echoes of You Ch. 5

You can read this on Ao3

The photoshoot was over after that, and for once, Marinette couldn’t say she was upset the time was cut short.

To her surprise, most of the staff seemed…annoyed that they weren’t to continue. She watched them pack up, grumbling about the lost hours and messed up schedules and spoiled models.

“Come with me.”

Marinette jumped, nearly knocking over an irritated grip. Dominique raised a brow. She looked remarkably unflustered for someone who’d been being hunted down by a monster intent on shish-kabobing her to death.

“The shoot - ”

“Cancelled,” Dominique barked as she turned on her heel. Marinette scrambled to keep up, snatching her bag and sketch book off her chair. “An artists constitution is a delicate one. Adrien finds he is unable to continue under these conditions.”

Marinette’s heart leapt. Adrien. She hadn’t even thought about him during the attack. She hadn’t seen where Scream-ripper had come from; what if she’d run him through on her way to the set? Feelings of failure swirled through her; she hadn’t been able to protect him. She hadn’t been able to protect anyone.

But…no… What was she supposed to have done? She did everything she could; there was no way someone like her could have done anything. Besides, she remembered with a shudder, she’d done what she’d had to. She’d given Chat Noir a second chance. Apparently it had paid off.

To her surprise, Dominique lead Marinette straight out of the building to the car. Adrien, she saw, was already inside, staring out his window. Dominique spun on her heel without waiting for so much as a ‘thank you' and Marinette slid in quietly, pulling the door closed behind her. Suddenly the comments she’d heard about spoiled models made a lot more sense, and she scowled. Anyone who knew Adrien would know he wouldn’t just blow off work if it wasn’t serious, even if, as she was learning, it wasn’t something he was truly passionate about.

“You ok?” Marinette asked quietly. She suddenly realized she didn’t know if her question was rude or not, but she also discovered she didn’t really care. Right then it didn’t matter that this boy held her heart in his hands, whether he knew it or not; no one should have to hurt alone.

“Yeah,” Adrien said, barely glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah. Just…that was intense. I figured everyone could use some time to recover, myself included. Juliette was a talented seamstress.”

“Juliette?”

“The girl who got akumatized,” Adrien said, finally looking at her. “I don’t know what Dominique did, but I’m going to try to speak to my father about it. Juliette’s only been working for our label for a couple of months, but she was skilled and passionate - kind of like you, actually. I think she deserves another shot.”

Akumatized…? Marinette bit her lip as she probed the emptiness that was becoming more and more familiar. She didn’t know what it was, exactly, but she got the sense she was barely skimming the surface of a next to bottomless lake.

“I…I don’t know what that- ”

A rocking guitar riff Marinette recognized from Jagged Stone’s latest single ripped through the car, cutting her off. Adrien winced.

“Sorry,” he said, pulling out his phone. “My father. I have to take this.”

“I understand,” Marinette said. After all, he was his boss, too.

Unfortunately, the car pulled up outside the bakery minutes later. Adrien was still on the phone. From what she could gather, Gabriel Agreste seemed more concerned about the thousands of dollars going to waste from the shoot being cut short than he did about the attack itself.

Adrien waved to her as she slid out of the back seat. A blank mask had settled over his features, and just for a second, a heartbeat really, he looked like someone else, someone she didn’t know. A stranger. The boy she loved was gone.

Marinette shut the door, but slid quickly up to the drivers side as inspiration struck. She knocked on the window, her hand acting before her brain caught up. She blanched as Adrien’s bodyguard rolled down the window but didn’t falter.

“Wait, please,” she said, “Just for a minute. I have something for Adrien. And - and for you! If you just wait, please, just for a second.”

The bodyguard didn’t say yes, but he didn’t say no. Marinette took that as a positive and turned to dash into the bakery.

“Marinette?”

Sabine Dupain-Cheng paused mid-transaction as her daughter came tearing into the bakery, very nearly knocking over not one, not two, but three customers as she did.

“Hi mom!” Marinette said as she tore open a bag and began shovelling pastries inside. “I’m home, the shoot was great, I just need a sec.” Blueberry muffin. Apricot scone. Chocolate croissant. She grabbed a smaller bag and shovelled three or four more pastries into it before dashing back outside. She handed the smaller bag to the bodyguard. The eager smile was small, but she didn’t think she was imagining it. He dug in right away, a silent but loud and clear sign that he would wait to leave while she conducted her business.

Biting her lip, Marinette tugged open the back door one more time. Adrien turned, eyes wide, still on the phone.

“As a thank you,” Marinette whispered. She placed the bag on the seat. Adrien softened and smiled.

“Thank you,” he mouthed, but then his father reeled him back in. She waved and shut the door, waiting and watching as the car pulled away.

Marinette barely saw the bakery as she headed back inside and up to their apartment, to her room, and up to her balcony.

The sun was just beginning to set over the city, glinting off the glass and stone, but it was completely lost on her. How had a day that had started so wonderfully turned into such a nightmare? The…akuma was burned into her memory, picking at Marinette’s focus. Every thought turned back to the attack.

Scream-ripper hadn’t been working on her own, obviously. But who… Hawk Moth. That was what Adrien had said that morning; that Hawk Moth was becoming more volatile. But how? What could have twisted that woman’s body that way? She shuddered; what could have turned her to stone?

Marinette jumped as her own phone rang, the Clara Nightengale verse letting her know Alya would be on the other end. “Hello?”

“Tell. Me. EVERYTHING!”

Marinette frowned. “I…what?”

“You were there, girl!” Alya said almost too fast for Marinette to understand. “I saw it on the news! New akuma! What was it? Did you get a picture? A video? DID LADYBUG RESCUE YOU?”

“Alya, calm down,” Marinette said as panic threatened to overwhelm her. “I don’t know, I…”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Alya demanded. “Didn’t you see it?”

“I…I…”

“Are you…ok, girl?” Alya asked, suddenly serious. “Did you get hurt while you were there?”

And just like that, Marinette found herself choking back tears. “Something’s wrong, Alya,” Marinette got out. “There’s all these…these gaps, and things I can’t remember, and I don’t…I don’t know what to do. I think I need help.”

“I’m on my way, Marinette,” Alya said. “Do you want me to grab anyone else on the way? Rose? Juleka?”

“No, no,” Marinette said. “I just don’t know….I don’t know…”

“It’s ok,” Alya said. Marinette could hear her pulling on a jacket through the phone. “Be there in 10, ok?”

Marinette bit her lip. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely, girl,” Alya said. She hung up, and Marinette stared down at her phone, suddenly wondering if she wasn’t over-reacting. Was she really forgetting things, or had she just been so busy with her own escapades she’d missed the obvious?

Marinette climbed back down her ladder and made her way to her desk, pushing aside a stale plate of half-eaten cookies before she sat down. Like her phone, the webpage automatically loaded the Ladyblog. That, more than anything, assured Marinette this wasn’t something she was dreaming. It was real.

She was still scrolling through the Ladyblog when Alya burst in seven minutes later with pastries.

“I came as fast as I could,” Alya panted, dropping onto the chaise and patting the empty end. “What’s going on, girl? Was it…” Alya dropped her voice to a whisper, “Was it the akuma?”

Marinette joined Alya on the end of her chaise, crossing her legs and clutching a pillow to herself. “Yes, but…no. It’s been…well, everything, just…”

“Ok,” Alya said slowly, “Everything how? On the phone you mentioned…I think gaps…?”

“Yeah,” Marinette said as a blush fought its’ way onto her cheeks. “This is going to sound so stupid, but I think there are gaps…in my memory.”

Alya frowned. Marinette recognized her reporter face. “Random memories? Like people, or events? Homework, or friends? You remember that you’re a total goner for Adrien, right? Because you, like, just started managing coherent conversations with him.”

“Yes, I remember that,” Marinette said. Despite it all, she giggled. “I don’t think I could ever forget that. But…I don’t know. I don’t usually realize what I’ve forgotten until someone’s talking about something like I should know it.”

“Ok,” Alya said. She’d pulled out a notebook and was tapping her pen on her chin. “Do you have any specific examples?”

“Well…yeah, I…” Marinette dredged up her memories of the past twelve hours. “Like this morning when you said you had an interview for the Ladyblog. I knew about it, but I didn’t. I remembered you want to be a journalist and had been working on this project, but I couldn’t remember what the blog was about, except it was the home page on my phone and my computer, so obviously I’ve read it.

“And then this morning, Adrien said something about Ladybug and Chat Noir and Hawk Moth, and…Alya, I had no idea who they were.”

Alya stared at her, as though waiting for clarification. “Wait, like…nothing?”

Marinette shook her head. “None at all.”

“O-ok,” Alya said, jotting down her notes. “Anything else?”

“The… akuna?…attack today,” Marinette said, bracing herself against the terrifying memories.

“The akuma,” Alya corrected. She raised a brow as though she wasn’t completely sure Marinette wasn’t just playing a prank, but the other girl just shrugged.

“I had no idea what it was, what it could do.”

“That’s pretty typical,” Alya said cautiously. “Every one is different with different powers.”

“I didn’t know that,” Marinette said quietly, a hint of desperation creeping into her voice. “I don’t know where they come from, or how they’re made.”

“Well, it seems to me,” Alya said slowly, “That the things you have trouble remembering have to do with the Miraculous.”

A chill ran down Marinette’s spine, a silent warning. “The what?”

“The…Miraculous,” Alya repeated. “Oh, my god. How many heroes are there?”

“I don’t know,” Marinette said, “I guess two? Ladybug and Chat Noir?”

“How did they get their powers?”

“Sleight of…hand, maybe…?”

Alya was practically vibrating. “What is Hawk Moth after?”

“I don’t know, Alya!” Marinette said, clenching her hands to keep her panic under control. “I don’t know what he wants, or who he is, or why he’s doing all this!”

Alya reached over and squeezed Marinette’s hands a silent apology. “It’s ok, Marinette, it’s ok. I have a theory.”

Marinette wasn’t sure how someone could derive a theory from all the crazy things she’d already said, but she let Alya plow ahead, desperate for any explanation, even a wrong one.

“Ladybug and Chat Noir are Paris’s protectors,” Alya began, “But sometimes they need help. They get their powers from their Miraculous, a magic piece of jewellery guarded by an immortal being. There are a few pieces of this jewellery. When Ladybug and Chat Noir need help, they ask a select few people to wear a Miraculous and help them defeat an akuma.”

“Isn’t that…dangerous?” Marinette asked.

“Not that I know of,” Alya said. “The Miraculous protect the wearer, but once the one time power is used, they have five minutes until the transformation exhausts itself and they transform back into their civilian self.”

“Ok…” Marinette said. “I’m with you so far. What does any of that have to do with me?”

“Ladybug and Chat Noir had a close scrape with Hawk Moth, in person, a few days ago,” Alya said. “Normally he just sends out his akuma’s to do his dirty work for him, but for whatever reason, he came in person that time.”

“Adrien mentioned something about it,” Marinette said, suddenly recalling their conversation. “But there wasn’t anything about it on the Ladyblog.”

Alya shrugged, her brow creasing. “It was a bad day. I was across town at a family function and no one could get close enough to film or ask questions. Worse, it was at the top of Montparnasse, so the actual news outlets weren’t able to get close enough to film, either. I missed a lot of what happened that day. What I could gather, though, was that another Miraculous holder was with them, one of other heroes.”

“Ok,” Marinette said. “So?”

“So,” Alya said, “I think that hero might have been you.”

Marinette nearly fell of the chaise. “Me!? I can barely remember who the Kitty is, you think I was out there with them?”

“I think,” Alya said softly, “That while the Miraculous can protect your body, they can’t always protect the mind. I’ve heard of cases before, where people are so traumatized by what they experience their mind tries to protect them. Sometimes they go blind, or deaf, or…forget things that hurt too much. I don’t really know what happened that day, Marinette, but not all of the stories on the Ladyblog are good ones.”

Marinette pulled a blanket off the back of the chaise and pulled it around herself with shaking fingers as she processed what Alya had said. Her, a…super hero? But she’d never been one for direct confrontation; what in the world would make Ladybug choose her?

“It’s ok, girl,” Alya said, pulling her best friend in for a tight hug. When Alya realized Marinette was trembling, she didn’t let go. “It’s just an idea, something I read about. Maybe it’s something else. Maybe it’s a side effect of an akuma - like Oblivio!”

Marinette struggled to calm down. “Oblivio?”

“Yeah, they were this super-villain that erased people’s memories. Maybe Hawk Moth’s getting stronger and this is a side effect of that.” Alya paused, then quietly said, “Actually…Oblivio was me.”

“You?” Marinette straightened, staring at her friend.

“Me,” Alya said with a nod, “And Nino.”

“But…how - ”

“I guess that’s the most important thing you need to know,” Alya said as she studied her jeans. “Anyone can be akumatized, Marinette. Anyone. When you feel really angry, or sad, or any strong negative emotion, it somehow creates an opening for Hawk Moth. He can send one of his butterflies after you. It amplifies that emotion until you’re happy to work with him, so you have to be careful. He’ll sweet talk you, promise you whatever you want, in exchange for one thing.”

“What?” Marinette whispered through lips that had gone cold.

“Ladybug and Chat Noir’s Miraculous.”

#echoes #echoes of you #fic #writing #marinette #miraculous ladybug

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ginnyzero · 4 years ago

Text

Success is a Journey, Not a Destination

Last Friday, my father called me before he left work. I have a fairly close and adult relationship with my dad. He's the one I talked to before deciding to self-publish. He's a pretty non-judgemental guy with a out of left field sense of humor. We are often told we share a brain, which when it comes to working together can be detrimental because we really don't. I can't read his mind. It can't be frustrating.

But, I don't talk to him about my creative endeavors. I didn't talk to him about my fashion projects or my creative writing. I sat in the office of his shop and between screens loading with his old accounting and job building software frantically typed the first draft of the Lone Prospect and an office manual for said software. So, I was pretty happy when I published the Lone Prospect in paperback that he actually bought it even though he knows I only get 34 cents from the sale. He's not an ebook reader type of guy. I wasn't even sure if he'd read it.

My dad's reading taste is pretty eclectic. He works a lot so seeing him read anything other than the Bible or machinist magazines was pretty rare when I was growing up. When I was a teenager, his reading habits were whatever book you left laying unattended in the living room. I learned quickly not to leave my books unattended. He had the ability to flip open a book I was reading (and may not have even finished yet) and find the one sex scene in the book (that I hadn't gotten to and didn't know existed.) Embarrassing. As a teenager I didn't want him to know I was reading about sex, just as much as I didn't want to know that he and mom still had sex. (Oh the stories from my sister and cousin whose bedroom was over my parents.) When I was in college, I didn't really want to know that my father knew I wrote sex scenes. When I found out from my mother that he'd found my fan fiction LJ accounts and had looked into what I was doing online, I f-locked the accounts. (I was in my early twenties for God's sake.)

So far, sex hasn't come up in anything I've published. I can put off this dilemma for another day. (Thank Goodness.)

Last month, he told me he was reading Honor Harrington. Hard political science fiction mixed with hard core space battles. I was pretty floored. Not what I expected. Friday, he told me that he'd read my book and was actually reading it again. I asked him outright if he liked it because he won't tell me these things unless I do. (Working for him was a pain because I never was sure I was doing a good job.) He did. (He also found grammar errors and missing words in the first 70 pages that have been through three Microsoft products, two format changes and then adobe products and losing words is what happens when too many software formats collide and I refuse to touch it again or else I'll scream. But he notices these things! Engineers.) His approval and enjoying my book made me really happy. Because I want my father's love and approval. In fact, he wanted to know if there were more books.

If this was the pinnacle and definition of success, then I'd reached that goal. Success achieved.

Of course, that's not really where my goal of success lays. But it's a good, life affirming step.

Being a successful published author isn't easy no matter if you're a self published author or if you're a traditionally published author. You end up doing a lot of the marketing work yourself. You aren't just a writer. You're an entrepreneur of your own brand. And it's work. It's a journey, a road, an experience not for the faint of heart. Because you can spend hours and hours writing something, publish it, grind your tailbone flat marketing and promoting and get no response, and then spend an hour dashing off a meaningless dribble and be an overnight sensation. You just don't know how it's going to play out.

I'm at the beginning (2020 here, STILL at the Beginning it feels like) of this original work self-publishing journey. I published my first book in August of 2016 and I know that it may be years before I get more than drips of sales. I'm still on the "what type of promoting is going to work best for me" stage. (Especially since I have no money to put into it.) It doesn't make me a failure. It means I don't know where I'm going yet. I'm at the fork in the road and trying to determine which way looks the best. (I may look back at this in a few years and go, oh Ginnikins, you naive little sod.)

Everyone's journey is different. Everyone has their own realizations about themselves, their writing, creative process and what is important to them at different times. Sometimes, the first step of the journey as a writer is to realize that you can't stop writing. Then the next is whether or not it's important to you to share that writing. The journey is about yourself, the inner you and while other people may come into this journey, they aren't the stars of it. Trying to make someone else the star of your journey is at least a very big distraction. During the journey, you can grow or you can stall and stay the same.

Eighteen years ago, I started writing in order to connect with a friend. Fifteen years ago, I was writing fanfic. Where the hardest thing after having a successful story was writing the next story and trying to duplicate that success. Ten years ago, I was a big name fan (BNF) running a pairing community and hosting awards. Nine years ago, I burnt out. I switched fandoms. I stopped posting WIP. I stopped posting stories all together. I faded out of fandom. No one looked for me. Six years ago or more, I said I'd never publish an original book. Because I didn't want to lose creative control of my characters, plots and writing style. Four or five years ago, I finally had an emotional breakthrough and came up with my ideas for the Lone Prospect. Two years ago, I looked at my health and faced reality that I needed to try to get another source of income that I could get while sitting on my couch, writing. I started querying agents. Six to eight months ago, I decided to self-publish because even if I got an agent to look at my writing, it'd be another two years before I was published by a publisher. And in two years, I could publish 5 books myself plus whatever short stories I wanted.

Who knows where I'll be in two years? I don't.

Even if I'm not getting a lot of sales. Even if I'm working part time jobs or as a consultant or whatever I need to do to keep a roof over my head and food in my fridge. I won't be a failure. I will just be at another part of my journey. As long as I don't give up and I keep writing. (I can't stop writing. I get frustrated and depressed if I stop writing.) Then I'm still a success because I'm moving forward slowly, one step at a time.

One of the major realizations I had in this journey is that I don't need outside affirmation that my writing is good, that I have good stories to tell. I know I'm a good writer. I know I'm a creative person. There are stories I write, that I only share with one person because I know she'll like them too and she wants them. And if I didn't have her, I wouldn't have to share the stories with anyone else. Because they are for me. (Self indulgent character driven stories of properties I don't own and one or two I do.)

The stories I write and that I do share, they're for me too. I share them because I hope others will also enjoy them. I hope that others will find meaning in them even if it is a few hours of entertainment. But it took a great deal of time for me to come to this realization and that if people have problems with the stories I write and the way I write them (outside of technical things like grammar and missing words) then they aren't the audience for my stories. Their opinions don't have to sway me from doing what I love to do.

I don't say this out of arrogance or hubris. I say this out of confidence. I know what I do well and while I may stretch myself in order to grow and improve, it won't change my style and method of writing. There are things I can't do and don't need to do in order to tell my stories. And I acknowledge those things and move on. There are enough people out there that could and would tear me down and shred me apart that I don't need to do it to myself. (And there are lots of lovely people out there too that could build me up.)

I say this because the moment I let an outside opinion define my success, then that person has power over me. That lack of power can undermine my confidence, make me second guess myself. It takes way from me being single minded in my goals to write. This leads to fear of not being good enough, of being rejected and of being a failure. Fear leads to depression. Depression leads to being paralyzed.

And then I'd be stuck on my journey, not willing to go forward, unable to go backwards. And even if you're just taking that first step in your journey by opening a document and writing the first sentence, you've come too far to stop now.

As long as you keep going, as long as you stay on your journey, then you can't be a failure. There may be mountains and molehills or turning molehills into mountains. There will be flat spaces where it's happy and easy and storms when it's hard and you're anxious and stressed and not sure if getting out of bed in the morning is worth it. There can be twists and turns. Sure, maybe your journey will veer away from writing. Maybe there will be a new passion and a new place to put your energy. But that doesn't mean you're a failure as a writer or a person. It just means that there is a new exciting path ahead of you.

Please, don't give up on it.

#writing advice #dad story #success #positivity

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emergencyprotocols · 5 years ago

Text

THE BASICS

( alycia debnam carey ) liz dufort, 25, head of supplies. she used to be a nursing intern before the outbreak. she has been at the camp for four months. people say that they are + kind, + nurturing, + iron-willed, but also - stubborn, - impatient, - headstrong, - secretive. that’s why they are called the firecracker. the only thing left reminding them of the time before the outbreak is her mother’s necklace.

name: Liz Dufort

nicknames: Lizzy

age: 25

birthday: November 8th

sign: scorpio

gender: cis female

sexuality: heterosexual

place of birth: Paris, France

former occupation: nursing intern

current main role: head of supplies

BACKGROUND

Pre-apocalypse

Lis was born in Paris (France) but her family moved to the US when she was just a year old. She was raised in suburban North Carolina. She was extremely close to her dad whom she adored, and when he died from a heart attack at age 33 (she was just 7 years old), her world was literally crashed, but she was lucky enough to have a mom that loved her deeply and prioritized the needs of her kids, making sure she and her brother (Andrea) grew up in a safe, loving environment, despite the loss of their father and their various financial struggles. Lis was a wild, creative and free-spirited child, always wanting to try new things, reading books and watching films kids normally have zero interest in, practicing ballet and theater and making friends with older people, asking a million questions a second. Her mother taught her how to knit and sew and cook, and she never felt less than her classmates for being less rich or wearing handmade clothes, despite not being wildly popular at school; that all changed of course when her mother got married to her second husband (Frank) when Lis was around 16 years old. He was quite well-off and despite her inhibitions, Lis soon grew fond of him and accepted him into their family.

Before the outbreak, Lis was a driven, soft-spoken, and quite artistic 24 year old young woman who lived a normal life with her family in the suburbs. She lived in a little flat half an hour away from her mother and little brother, studying nursing at university and was just a semester away from graduation. She excelled at all her classes and, unlike her brother, was very self-sufficient and self-reliant, happy and excited and making plans for the future.

Post-apocalypse

As civil unrest grew, cities fell, and the dead took over, Lis’ mother and her step-dad tried to devise ways to protect their family. She moved back into her mom’s house a day after news of the outbreak broke, feeling lost and confused and scared; entirely unfit to comprehend, let alone face, the new world before her. Panicked and scared, she trailed after her mother and brother, keeping close and trying to make sense of what was happening, often venturing outside to try to make contact with friends or talk to people, only to be completely horrified at seeing downtown being literally burned and bombed by the military, hundreds of dead roaming the streets, riots happening everywhere and the power, soon, failing. Within a week of the outbreak, the National Guard arrived at their neighborhood, setting up a perimeter, a safe zone, and imposing a slew of martial laws in order to “keep people safe”, as they were told.

The National Guard put up a fence around the area, and were supplying the people inside it with food, water and some medical supplies. They were also enforcing a strict curfew. Nobody was allowed outside the fences, or even to leave their house after 8 pm. There were some people outside the fence who were close enough to be seen and they were loaded into trucks with one suitcase each – to go “East”, and Lis never really knew where they were taken, but life inside the fence was safe, they were settling into a routine and she wanted to believe that everything would work out, ignoring her gut feeling that something was really wrong and trying to just follow orders and adapt to the new situation, until people around the Safe Zone started mysteriously disappearing. The military had to follow their orders and kill off every sick and wounded person and upon discovering that the government was actually killing people off and bombing other safe areas, not caring about whether or not there were uninfected civilians amongst the dead, her family managed to devise a plan and eventually escape the “safe zone” during a chaotic riot that broke out in the neighborhood in the middle of the night as rumors started to brew and tensions were boiling over with people losing their faith in the military. Unfortunately, during their escape, Lis, her step-dad and her mother were separated from her brother. The loss of him, not knowing where he is, and being unable to do anything about it, had a huge effect on her, but she pushed on, and soon, the family joined a group of survivors who were heading out to Virginia to join a friend of their leader on his secluded farm near a former military base. Believing it to be the safest place and not having anywhere else to turn, they followed them. On their way to the farm, many of the group members died, with the worst incident being a little girl getting sick and dying and turning in the RV next to a sleeping Lis, because her brother didn’t want people to know that she was sick lest they abandoned them. Lis was lucky enough to wake up just as she was being attacked, and killed her first walker en route to Virginia. The incident sparked a huge fight between members of the group, resulting in her little girl’s older brother being exiled from their company, leaving Lis horrified at how little compassion and understanding people were beginning to display.

Once at the farm, the family stayed there for several months, sheltered from the outside world, and Lis began to believe that maybe they could start over there, tentatively making some friends and doing everything within her power to help and contribute to their small community, but within a few months, that dream was dashed when a para-military group attacked the farm, drawing a huge horde of dead to it.

That night was the worst night of her life as her mother was brutally attacked by several walkers while they were trying to escape through the woods, and she had to put her down to spare her the pain of being torn apart by the walkers, alive. Gritting her teeth, Lis shot her right in the head, before being forced to flee the area, leaving her body behind to be devoured by the dead. Not only did she lose her mother, but Lis lost several of her friends, the only safe place she knew of, and got separated from her step-father. They managed to meet up in the woods and flee the area together, but within a couple of days, they were once again being hunted down by members of the para-military group, and Frank– despite her protestations– used himself as bait to distract them so Lis could get away. Currently, she has no idea what happened to him right after being captured by the group.

Horrified and broken, she had been fearfully roaming the empty streets, armed only with a knife and with little to no combat skills, looking for shelter and just surviving, hoping that, one day, she would be somehow reunited with her remaining family– until finally finding shelter with her current group.

CHARACTER

Lis has gone through just as much shit as every other person in the apocalypse, and she may not be physically strong and powerful, but she’s so strong and brave and stubborn as hell and despite everything, she still believes the best of people. She has this incredible self-awareness about the fact that she’s perhaps the least suited for the world they live in, but she’s not going to let anyone look down on her because she’s made it this far, and she’s determined not just to survive but to live a life worth living. She is nurturing and maternal and would do anything for the people she loves fiercely, and despite everything that she’s been through, she still has a strong hope for a better future and still strives to keep people around her happy and make them smile.

She doesn’t want to change, and lately, she’s been terrified of losing herself. She believes that she can stab zombies in the head and still sing folk songs and take care of the people around her and braid that one piece of hair and cook, and remain gentle. She is a tactile person who instinctively takes care of others. Her compassion, her faith, her bravery, her nurturing instinct and her iron will are just some of the things that do so much more to inform who she is at the core of her character than her ability to cave skulls in. She may not be physically strong, but the other ways in which she’s contributed to her group are just as important and valuable as physical fighting - if not more so, because let’s face it, everyone can fight zombies; how many of them are willing to do domestic chores and take care of the sick and people they barely know?

That said, she is currently in a pretty dark place mentally, having lost her mother and still not knowing where her brother is, or if he’s even alive.

#hey guys it took me a while to reedit this lol hi!!!!#y'all I M SO EXCITED to write with you #intro.#WL:intro

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sunlightdances · 6 years ago

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Blooming in the Shadows (3/6)

Pairing: Dean x Female Reader Rating: Overall PG-13 because of canon-typical violence. Also swearing. Warnings: Angst! Dean and the Reader swearing like sailors! Mutual pining with a dash of bed sharing and a slow burn romance added in for extra fluffy goodness. Summary: You and Dean Winchester are barely friends. His sudden reappearance from Hell brings you together, and you find yourself right back in the life you ran away from when you were a teenager. (Canon AU that takes place during season 4, specifically starting at 4.01 - for reference, Dean is 29) This chapter: Dean and the reader finally find Sam. Some hurt feelings are voiced. There’s an argument. Again. (This chapter is mostly filler, sorry about that)

Masterlist for this fic is on my blog!

The morning is… weird. Dean is ignoring you, like usual. It feels extra tense, though. You try to write it off as just Dean focusing on finding Sam, and figuring out whatever is trying to chase him down.

You feel awkward only because of the way you’d broken down the night before. You can’t remember the last time you were that terrified of something you were hunting. It felt so powerful, so out of your league, you couldn’t help the scream for Dean that erupted from your throat when you were cornered.

In the back of your mind you’re relieved knowing that he came for you without hesitation -- you know he’d never let you get hurt, or worse. Still. You had to wonder, sometimes.

“Let’s go,” Dean says quietly, holding the door open for you. Sometime this morning, Dean had gone back to your room and cleaned up the best he could, grabbing your bag from the room and loading everything into the car.

You follow him out to the parking lot and see other patrons out and about - no one seems at all concerned about what happened the night before. How did they not hear it? See it? How didn’t they hear you?

You shake it off, your attention once again on Dean, who is absentmindedly rubbing at the mark on his arm. You slide into the passenger seat, and almost feel relieved when he immediately turns the radio up when he gets in.

A distraction. That’s what you need.

The miles fly by.

You find yourself relaxing into the seat, the early morning sunshine warming your face through the glass. Your fingers tap out a rhythm on your kneecap, and you’re startled when you feel a hand settle over yours.

“Makin’ me nervous.” Dean says, not taking his eyes off the road. His fingers briefly close over yours, barely enough pressure for you to notice, and then his hand is gone.

You feel strangely bereft, afterwards.

“Sorry.”

He glances over at you for a second. “Are you… do you feel okay?”

You shrug. “Yeah, I guess so. Sorry for last night.”

“Something attacked you. You don’t have to apologize.”

“Still. I’ve never been the damsel in distress type.”

You lean against the seat back, head tilted towards him, and-- is that a smile? “Gotta admit,” he says, “I make a good knight in shining armor, though.”

“You wish,” you fire back, unable to let him have the last word.

He doesn’t say anything else, but that ghost of a smile remains on his face until the next time you stop for gas and snacks.

You head inside while Dean deals with the car, and your eyes dart around as you look around, still feeling wary. You’re picking over the snack aisle when you feel eyes on you, and someone standing behind you.

You reach into the inside pocket of your coat and grip the hilt of your knife before a familiar voice makes you relax. “Calm down,” he says. “It’s me.”

You curse softly under your breath. There was a time where you’d recognize Dean and Sam’s footsteps from paces away, but apparently that’s come and gone. “Sorry.”

He doesn’t say anything, but he reaches around you for a pack of oreos and trail mix. You raise your eyebrow, and he mirrors your expression. “What? I’ve got a sweet tooth.”

You laugh softly. Dean Winchester. Full of surprises. When you look back up at him to reply, he’s looking at you with an odd expression, but a blink and it’s gone. The morning has been too off kilter for your liking, so you don’t wait for him to say anything. You head up to the counter and refuse to let Dean pay, which has him grumbling all the way back out to the car.

The GPS on Sam’s phone is still turned on, and you know you’ll get to him within a day. It makes you nervous and excited all at the same time. It’s been a while since you’ve seen the youngest Winchester, but you’re also apprehensive about what you’ll find.

You hope he hasn’t made a deal.

You don’t want to see what Dean might do if it turns out he’s out of hell at the cost of his brother’s soul or life.

The distance between you and Sam shrinks, and suddenly you’re parked outside a hotel, both of you just sitting in the car as you stare up at the building.

“Ready for this?” You ask quietly.

He looks at you sharply. “It’s my brother. Why wouldn’t I be?”

The truce between you has apparently evaporated. “Just checking. We don’t know--”

“I know that he’s probably going to rush me once he sees us, so do me a favor and don’t let him kill me before we can get some answers, will you?”

“Dean, you know I want answers as much as you do--”

“Do you?” He asks, suddenly angry. “Or are you just here because Bobby asked you to tag along?”

You let out a bitter laugh. “Fuck you, Dean. No one makes me do anything.” Believe it or not, I still actually care about you, you don’t say.

“Let’s just get this over with.” Dean says under his breath, getting out of the car before you can stop him or yell at him, or-- whatever. You follow him begrudgingly, knowing he’s right and that Sam might actually try to hurt him if he doesn’t realize it’s actually the real Dean here.

Although, if he pulled him out of hell… why wouldn’t he be at the grave site? Or at the very least, why wouldn’t he be expecting Dean to show up eventually? There are too many questions. Your head hurts.

At the hotel room, you watch as the brothers reunite. Well, you don’t just stand there - Sam goes after Dean much like you and Bobby had, and you find yourself stopping him, meeting Sam’s watering eyes, telling him that yes, this is Dean.

“Wait-- so you didn’t make a deal?” Dean asks.

“Why else would he be so surprised?” You grumble. Dean glares.

“I tried everything… no one would deal. Trust me, if I could have, I would have--” Sam says, interrupting Dean who tries to lecture him. “I would have! I know-- I know we promised. But I couldn’t leave you down there. It wasn’t up to me, though.”

“Well who the hell got him out, then?” You wonder aloud.

“I followed a pack of demons to this town,” Sam says. “I thought if Lilith was still around… I’d… I didn’t really know what I wanted to do. But I didn’t tell Bobby where. I didn’t want to get him involved.” Sam looks at you, “You didn’t--”

“No!” You glare at him. “Why does everyone think I had anything to do with this?” You say, frustration bubbling up. You regret it immediately when you see the look on Dean’s face.

Dean scoffs. “Yeah, why on earth would she risk anything to save my ass? Not likely.”

You feel like he’s slapped you.

“Is that what you think?” You ask, your voice barely a whisper.

“Guys--” Sam tries to stop the impending fight, but you can feel it all coming to a head. All the tension of the last few days and the feelings that have built up over the years… you should have known it was always going to end like this.

“No, Sam, it’s fine. I’ll go.”

Dean’s pinching the bridge of his nose in that way he does when he’s frustrated. “Where are you gonna go--”

“You don’t have to pretend like you care, Dean!” You throw your arms up in defeat, “I’ll figure it out. I always have. Besides, it’s not like you need me here anymore anyway. You’ve got Sam. You’ve got your car. The way it was always supposed to be.”

Dean says your name, a quiet plea, but you’re too tired to stay and figure him out. In the back of your mind though a little voice is telling you to stay. Telling you that Dean’s in over his head here, especially if Sam wasn’t the one to get him out. If he didn’t do it, and Bobby didn’t do it… and there’s still the mystery of the burn mark on his arm.

You push out the doors of the apartment building, fuming, but something makes you stop walking, groaning in frustration. You’re going to stay, because like it or not, the Winchesters are just about the only family you’ve got left. It doesn’t mean you’re going to be nice about it, though.

As if reading your mind, Sam comes out the double doors after you, running a hand through his hair. “Hey,” he says, “Hang on.” He pulls you into a hug, the strength behind it surprising you. “I tried calling you…”

“I know.” You say after you pull away, smiling sheepishly. “I didn’t-- What was I supposed to do? You didn’t sound like you wanted anyone around.”

“How are you here?” Sam asks.

“Found him.”

Sam’s eyebrows raise. There’s not usually this many coincidences when hunting, and he knows it.

“I know, I know,” you say, before he can voice his concerns, “It’s weird. This whole thing is weird. I don’t get it. But we actually agreed on something-- finding you.” You smile, giving him a friendly punch on the shoulder. “Needed the brains in this operation, after all.”

Sam laughs. “That was always you, and you know it.”

“Yeah, whatever, Stanford.”

“If you two are done with this touching reunion,” Dean interrupts, shouldering his way between you and Sam. “We have to get back to Bobby.”

You roll your eyes. “You have to get back to Bobby. I’m going home.”

Dean stops and turns to look at you. Something flashes in his eyes, and he opens his mouth like he has something to say, but no words come out. You find yourself waiting, almost hoping that he’ll apologize, or… something.

“Whatever.” He turns on his heel and heads towards the Impala, touching the hood of it reverently.

Out of earshot, Sam turns to you. “Come with us. I know Dean’s… Dean. But if he’s out and none of us did it… we need all the help we can get.”

He’s practically echoing Bobby’s words from the day before, and you sigh, suddenly feeling exhausted. Sam looks how you feel. You wonder, not for the first time, what he’s been doing since Dean went.

“Fine. But-- you’re the middle man. Just be prepared.”

You’re sitting upright in the middle of the Impala’s backseat, elbows propped up on the seatback in front of you, struggling not to smile. The windows are down, the music is blaring, and you feel like you’re seventeen again, Dean at the wheel, and Sam at his place beside him.

After some ribbing about Sam douching up the car (he added an ipod jack, an atrocity) - Dean fell right into old habits. There was little conversation about leaving the car from Bobby at the hotel and hitting the road in the Impala. Of course that’s what you were going to do.

There was also surprisingly little conversation about you joining the boys. Sam basically said he’d managed to change your mind and that you were coming with, and Dean just stared, not saying a word, jaw clenched.

You called Bobby to update him, and he gave you and the boys an address - a psychic friend of his named Pamela, who might be able to figure out who got Dean out of the pit. It meant another night on the road, but you don’t think Dean hates the idea, not when he’s behind the wheel of Baby once again.

It means another night in a motel, though, and you hate the dread you feel curling in your stomach at the idea of sleeping alone when you’ve apparently got some supernatural creature on your tail.

You won’t mention it to Sam or Dean though, not wanting to seem weak. You don’t miss the look Dean sends you when you get your back out of the backseat and head into the motel office with them both.

“Hey--” Dean says, stopping you with a hand on your elbow, “I think you should stay in the room with us.”

His voice is gentle, and you swear you’re going to get whiplash by the time this is all over because of Dean’s mood swings.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Kid. Come on…”

You pull your arm from his grasp. “Jesus, Dean. You basically told me to fuck off earlier.”

He sends a placating look at the front desk clerk, and you send her a small apologetic smile. Dean pulls you closer to the door, lowering his voice. “If that thing comes back and comes for you--”

“You’ll feel guilty. I get it, Dean.”

“That’s not-- that’s not what I meant. Dammit, kid, I’m just--”

“Got a room,” Sam interrupts, looking between the two of you. “Dean said you were bunking with us…”

“Of course he did.” You grab the key from Sam’s hand and storm out the door, not waiting to see if they’re following you. These few days are truly going to kill you if whatever’s hunting you and Dean down doesn’t get to you first, you think.

#dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #spn reader insert #blooming in the shadows fic

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mutantsrisingrpg · 5 years ago

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Congratulations DEAN! You’ve been accepted as JANUS with a FC change to CASEY DEIDRICK.

Dean, first let me say that when I saw an app from you in our inbox I screamed! Now, onto business. The way you created a backstory for Jackson that starts in Las Vegas and ends in Chicago kept me hanging on each and every word. I have to admit, the detail about how there’s only one form of identification with his true face and name was one of my favorite parts! I also loved how you broke name his name - it’s a little detail that went a long way in figuring out who Jackson is. We’re so excited to have you back on the dash and with our Janus!

Welcome to Mutants Rising! Please read the checklist and submit your account within 24 hours.

NAME/ALIAS: Dean

PRONOUNS: She/her

AGE: 22

TIMEZONE & ACTIVITY LEVEL: GMT, fairly active

In Character Information:

DESIRED ROLE: Jackson Sawyer Raemers

GENDER/PRONOUNS: He/him

DETAILS & ANALYSIS: This is where you show us who the character is to you! The format of this doesn’t matter, whether it’s in bullet points or in para form, and can be as long as you’d like it to be. Feel free to get creative!

The name Jackson is a Scottish name. In Scottish the meaning of the name Jackson is: God has been gracious; has shown favour. Based on John or Jacques.

Sawyer was an English meaning, a occupational name for someone who earned his living by sawing wood, Middle English saghier, an agent derivative of sagh(en) ‘to saw’.

Raemers based on Ramer, The oldest form of the name is “Reinmar” or “Reginmar,” which literally meant “famous councillor.” Always prominent in social affairs.

He’s a walking contradiction, his mind never 100% made on a singular motive and distraction easily pulled him from one thing to the next. Jackson’s chaos is a subtle one, orchestrated solely for his own enjoyment until there’s reason to repel against something or someone. Opinionated in a way in which his argument could be swerved from one side the the other only because he wanted to play devil’s advocate and test other people’s beliefs because it gives him comfort to see witness the grey spots in other’s morals.

A lot of what he does was born from his own insecurities, the voice in the back of his head telling him that we were more worthless than the dirt on the bottom of his shoes. So he hides his true self carefully, uses masks of humour and then hides behind other peoples identities. Carefully packaging away his own demons with false confidence that couldn’t be questioned.

BIO:

Fraud and robberies became second nature, easier than breathing yet essential to keep his head from sinking below the water. It was ironic, how swift his own actions turned from survival to pure indulgence. Disordered violence increasingly becomes addictive due to the way it supplied him with a steady rush of endorphins. The taste of rebellion even more rewarding when it was fuelled by the very mutation that he’d been discriminated for his entire life. He’d unlocked his true potential, a criminal with the ability to morph fluidly from one appearance to the next.

He supposes it was a form of obsession, in contrast to his former self, an upbringing spent repressing his powers to appease his terrified parents who feared the opinion of the neighbourhood than what may become of their son by neglecting a key part of his identity. Living life as an outlaw, adorning himself in tourist t-shirts and tacky dollar store sunglasses was a vast improvement. A lifestyle that saw him existing out of the trunk of his car, mustard stains from a drive-thru burger discolouring the map which lay open on his passenger seat, red ink circling his next destination. He couldn’t picture himself living an average life, didn’t want to be another cog in a well oiled cooperate machine where he’d become just another number sat at a desk until he’d worked up enough hours to pay off a mortgage.

Jackson’s luck fell short, naturally, the second his car pulled into sin city. Las Vegas with the luminosity of neon lights and slot machines was the single worst decision he could have made. Worse than disowning his family, worse than his impulsive decision making when getting tattoos and maybe even worse than the time he’d shifted into the body of a girl scout in some desperate attempt of getting a dozen boxes of thin mints free of charge. But like a moth to a flame, it was the adrenaline that led him to do it. Shifting from one casino owner to the next, he’d committed fraud multiple times each night and donate the remainder of the money after he’d loaded up on hawaiian shirts and sugary snacks, to organisations working against mutant laws and discrimination. Like a modern day Robin Hood, only driving a rusted up old Chevrolet in dire need of a new paint job.

It’s a mixture of arrogance and a blimp in his concentration that causes it to all unravel. Facading as a beer bellied Elvis impersonator in one of the chapels, he’d spent the evening pick pocketing gambling money from unsuspecting intoxicated couples who’d been making poor life decisions. It was easy work which naturally meant he’d become sloppy, the sort of stupidity that lands him an evening in police custody and unable to show any identification on himself other than a driving license that matches his true appearance. Jackson Sawyer Raemers, born November 22nd in the state of Arizona, an individual with an outstanding warrant for his arrest and a suspected mutant. There’s no court trial, no mention of imprisonment or bail. Instead he’s transported overnight to a medical research facility, sedated and left to answer for his crimes in what he would deem to be the pits of hell.

He’s carefully monitored, pumped with medication and used as a lab rat for illnesses to watch how his mutation may help him to recover- if at all. Cut open and stitched together again, regular interviews for insights on his ability and encouraged with rewards to see how far he could push his powers under supervision. Of course those rewards never met anything more exciting than a pudding cup with lunch or a ten minute stoll in the security monitored outdoor area. The three years he’s trapped there he learns a few things about himself and his mutation; no matter how many times they tried they couldn’t replicate it in a tube, even with the ability of cell reconstruction this hadn’t granted him immunity from the common cold and pudding cups definitely weren’t worth the amount effort he’d been putting in for them.

It was entirely by chance that a group of enraged mutants in the facility had grouped together to form a riot. The building caught up in an intentional blaze that triggered cell doors to swing open and allow their occupants to vacate. With such a perfect diversion in place, Jackson takes his opportunity to escape by shifting into the appearance of one of the women who had been treating him. Able to use her fingerprints to unlock the exit, the first thing he does is hot wires the Mercedes in the parking lot and takes off back on the road. They say old habits die hard, much could be said the same for Jackson. How easily he fell back into his old games of identity theft as if three years worth of reflection had taught him nothing.

He returns to what he does best, only now it was personal, the lust of rebellion replaced with spite for those who had been disceting him like a science project. Jackson spends his time examining the faces that appear in the media voice against mutant rights and the research entrepreneurs that treated as nothing more than a paycheck. It’s how he finds himself in Chicago, rumoured a place that was almost a santuary for mutants where he’d be able to meet like minded individuals. And of course, it’s how he finds The Jem Family. He’s still not entirely sure why Damien had taken a liking towards him, his only redeemable factor being that he was reckless enough to not question any given orders in which other members may shudder at. It was an overwhelming sense of finally belonging to something, that he’d mattered outside of his own world and could really make a difference.

EXPANDED CONNECTIONS:

Luca Medoza: He finds them entertaining, his own laid back rebellion in contrast to something much bolder. Subtle versus out right in your face. He’d spend a lot of time with Luca, telling her what had happened in the latest true crime series he’d been watching and not minding too much when the only thing she picks up on was that he’d spent 10 hours straight binge watching on Netflix again.

Neve Kaplan: She’s the first person in a long time that he doesn’t hide any aspect of himself from. He let her see every aspect of his personality, the gritty details and forbidden secrets he hadn’t dared to share with anyone else. For a while she’d been his home, the missing part of the puzzle that could take the bitterness away and ease his own reckless behaviours, until she’s gone. It still stings when he see’s her, but it’s also a pleasant reminder that at least what he’d felt had been real.

Cain Douglas: He gets pleasure out of his visits and will show up even if the damage is nothing spectacular. He’s absolutely rolled up with a paper cut before and made it out as if he’d lost a limb over texts on his way there. Jackson gets most his kicks from aggravating the hell out of people and with Cain it was almost too easy. Although when he is genuinely hurt it does become a little more difficult of Cain to take him seriously with all the jokes he plays. Sometimes he’ll fake an injury just to get some advice, doctors and therapists are basically the same thing, right?

EXTRA: This section is completely optional. You can add anything here such as: more para samples, headcanons, mock blogs, edits, playlists, etc. Please note that because it is optional, putting everything or nothing in this section will not be a determining factor in your application. This is just for fun!

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/dean_ie/janus/

Tag: https://stereotypicalcancerwrites.tumblr.com/tagged/ch:%20jackson%20raemers

-Jackson is obsessed with snacking, or any opportunity to stuff his face with food really. He’ll take it personal if you go out for a meal and he doesn’t get an invite.

-He can’t function without a morning coffee. 3 shots served black with one spoonful of sugar. He’ll have another at noon because he’s a night owl and eternally paying the price.

-He has a fear of blood, it makes him feel dizzy and he’s absolutely the worst person to have around if you were in a serious injury. He’d pass out before you would.

-Jackson can sing The Element Song by Tom Lehrer perfectly from memory.

-He has a habit of seeing the world from a very cynical perspective and is always anticipating the worst to happen in any given situation. It allows him to feel less surprised or out of control when things do turn sour.

-Jackson has a doberman named Bella, as in Bella Swan- he was trying to be funny

-He doesn’t trust easily and as a result he’s pretty distant. He’s always got a guard up and is very reluctant to let people into his life as most people that have seen the real him have resulted in negative connotation.

-He is allergic to shellfish so if someone wanted to kill him…

-He is always using humour and bad behaviour as a defense mechanism from people getting too close to see the real him.

-He had a stutter as a kid due to low self-esteem. It occasionally comes back when he’s stressed or upset. It’s one of the giveaways for his shapeshifting.

-Jackson is a reckless driver

-He’s obsessed with 1970s music

-Jackson is a hoarder, he collects a lot of pointless stuff like the top of bottle caps, funny slogan tshirts and cheap sunglasses from dollar stores

-He hates having to dress up formally, he feels like it draws attention to him and not in a funny showing off sort of way

-He has numerous tattoos and none of them were what you’d consider ‘good’, they’re shitty or only there to illustrate some pun or memory of a drunken evening. He’s upset some of the scars from the research facility have beheaded a hulahooping stick men on his leg.

ANYTHING ELSE: Did you have any questions or any changes you wanted to discuss with us beforehand?

FC change to Casey Deidrick

#accepted: janus #accepted

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beloved-judged · 5 years ago

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Inner/Outer

This probably only applies to me, so... I guess keep that in mind.

I think the strangest thing about this process, the pathless path, is the dynamic between inner and outer changes.

Early on, I realized that there were, in essence, two ways to go about sacrifice. We appear to be free to tell the spirit that our sacrifices, offerings, and relationship is to be limited to that which happens outside ourselves: we’ll go this far, but no further. Offer up food, but no more. Pursue a relationship at arms’ length. Limit the domain of change to only the things we ask to change and no more. Ignore the prompt of the spirit except for when that prompt is inside whatever we consider to be the domain of the spirit (during ceremonies, while at temple, etc.)

There’s a dude on youtube who I watch sometimes who appears to have the full monty, in terms of initiation, but whose relationship with the lwa is directly mercenary. He talks a lot about “controlling” the spirit and about being very carefully specific with it so that it doesn’t mess you up, but honestly when I hear him talk, I simply hear... well, an exercise in futility, and quite possibly an insult to the spirit.

If I had to label anything Bizango, it would be that approach: it’s transactional. It’s mercenary. There’s no love in it, or very little. It’s very... aggressive and angry and all about what he gets out of the relationship, with loads of time spent talking about how dangerous the spirit is, and how it’s all about death and power and harm. It’s all about subduing his enemies and punishing anyone he doesn’t like. He may just be showing off for the camera, as a performance of his power, strength, and arcane or mystic force. I have no way of knowing.

This may just be my lack of experience speaking, but when I listen to him talk, I feel... a sense of disgust.

I recognize (or at least I have been told) that vodou is morally neutral by the standards of the Christianity of my childhood, but honestly my experience has been so much about virtue and light and love and healing and mutual relationship that it’s hard for me to recognize what he’s talking about.

I have no illusions that, being associated as closely with humanity as the spirit appears to be, that there is not another side to vodou. Survival takes what it takes, and my life has had some of that. You can’t get through life without being made aware (I hope) that the world is not always a place that wants to facilitate your well being or survival, and on occasion you just gotta get in there and get dirty.

I just find his approach bizarre, because I hear nothing mutual in it. No acknowledgment of the spirit as having a consciousness outside poorly leashed aggression, rage, and hate. The absolute refusal to change--a demand to heaven that it comply, without an apparent sense of the awesome arrogance of that demand and the grace of the spirit which permits it.

I’m told the spirit eats what we give it, in the sense that we reflect our relationship to the spirit. My understanding of that phrase is that if we approach the spirit with nothing but our rage, hate, aggression, loathing, and disgust, that is how the spirit approaches us (presumably because that’s how we’ve signaled we want to be approached.)

This isn’t to say that the spirit won’t approach us how it needs to, but rather that... well, I wouldn’t want to eat that as a consistent diet. Bon dieu save me from that. I have enough of my own darkness without asking for the spirit to reflect it back at me. I do not wish to compound my chains, but to cast them off.

We also appear to be free to give the spirit something else. One of the earliest choices I made when I started on this path as an adult, a few years ago, was not to keep the spirit at arm’s length: I wanted to be the sacrifice. It felt fitting, like something I was born to do, a fit of the soul that echoes through the body like a jubilant ‘yes’ which began in the pregnant silence before my physical life began, and will not end while I exist.

It feels like I was born to burn, not to be destroyed, but to live by burning away all that which is not spirit: my hate. My jealousy. My rage. My agony. All things burning away.

Oddly, while I remember my pain and its causes, increasingly I can see through it. Pain is a cycle, it contains a reactive cycle. It’s stupefying, blinding, intimately personal, and we are caught up reacting to it in a way that feels so natural. Pain compels us, rules us, and even when we sense the cycle happening, we seem unable to stop.

Those painful events happened. I remember being harmed and its after-effects, but I believe, under the tutelage of the spirit, that I will revisit these sources of pain, but that rather than dragging me under, I will be lead to see through them.

The price of intimacy with the spirit, at least what I understand so far, has been that burning process, which hurts, but in a different way than simple pain. It has been the spirit telling me no as no became necessary. It has been giving up who I thought I was, and the desires I thought I had.

I am... surprisingly content to be aligned, to give things up. I’m sure I’ll balk again, and I have balked before, but I am surprised to find that as I give things up, they are replaced. I was worried, at first, about giving up my individuality, my hard fought survival and the qualities that went with it, or giving up the things that made me, me.

Surrendering freely, without constraint, to the spirit seemed a kind of self-annihilating madness: the capstone of something many experiences in my life taught me to expect. A kind of ultimate masochism--to hurtle into extinction of the mind, body, and soul.

While I have given a lot of things up, that which has replaced them has been infinitely more satisfying. The control that I sought by tensing up, by trying to manage, by trying to be someone I was not, the control that everything in my environment taught me was necessary is...

What did I want?

Success. Respect. Love. Adoration. The gratification of my will and ego. Adulation.

I hate to say it, but those are cheap prizes. We are hurtling toward the eventual transition from physical life to whatever lies afterward for us, and no one will remember us long past our death.

This used to bother me as a thought a lot more than it currently does. And maybe it will bother me again as death comes closer, but I suspect the dead man (a borrowed but so wonderful phrase) will dance me away from living with a smile, when the time comes. I won’t go alone.

But if I serve whatever purpose the spirit has in putting me here on this earth, I don’t really have to worry about that. I will have done my duty, the duty I was permitted to incarnate for.

That’s essentially the best legacy I could hope for, somewhere in the invisible accounting of god, which fortunately for me supersedes any incarnate accounts of my life (good lord, do people miss a lot!)

I’m sure I’ll forget this from time to time, life being as distracting as it is, but I wanted to capture this musing while it was on me, and so far, the spirit hasn’t said no.

I burn. I dance. I serve, and I know that I am lucky. Whatever rank I do or do not attain, whatever incarnate acknowledgment of power I do or don’t have... look, I am permitted to be here, among the bodied, in this strange and lovely reality.

My pride might need a reminder from time to time, but incarnation alone makes me lucky. And someday, perhaps, I will have the authority to look at people and ask them to come and join the dance with me, as I often long to do.

I long to look people in the eye and invite them to join the dance, the fire, the reel of time which dashes us, drunk with life, against the stately music of the stars. The inside and the outside, the changing house of death, the spark of god in your souls joining in the divine crucible.

Would you believe it? I’m sane by the accounting of twenty years of therapists, because it merits saying when I start feeling mystical. I do not speak of these things. People get a little panicked, and who can blame them.

But here I am, and here you are, and the spirit knows what will happen next.

#lwa #vodou #it got weird and I don't care

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staytheb · 6 years ago

Text

The Next Part

Pairing: GOT7′s Jinyoung x OC [Woorin] Genre: slice of life, slight angst, slight fluff Word Count: 6,725 Summary: Woorin and Jinyoung’s relationship didn’t end on good terms, but they never had the chance to settle it out and life got in the way. Now three years later, Woorin and Jinyoung meet again.

Warning: none... i think. maybe swear words. i honestly forgot. lol

my first post which is a GOT7 one that I wrote for a secret santa event. anyways, happy reading and kthxbai, Admin Lia~

"Are you sure it's okay?" Woorin asked her best friend, Nayoung, as the duo arrived at the venue where The Street's Christmas party was being held.

"Yes, it is. Besides, we're already here and it's not like you haven't done this before." Nayoung replied with a laugh. "Just enjoy yourself."

"Yeah, that was when I was working at The Street, but I don't anymore and probably don't know anyone now."

"There's a few familiar faces you'll recognize."

"Yeah right. It's been like three years."

"Don't forget the ones that has been here like me."

"Yeah, yeah."

The duo entered the venue and were greeted by a well decorated and subtle Christmas theme of gold, silver, white, and blue. There was hardly any of the bold colors of green and red unless it was just a dash here and there. Other than that, it was very beautiful and light.

"Whoever decorated the venue did an amazing job." Woorin complemented as Nayoung agreed. "Yeah. Yubin and Hyelim spent hours on all of this, especially in the last minute details. Mr. Park was very particular about certain things although in the end he just let them do whatever."

"Sounds like him and still not much has changed since."

"Tell me about it. So much has happened this year and I'm glad I'm not playing hostess. I left it up to the other girls who wanted to do it and I'm so glad I did."

"True. Anyways, what do you want me to do with this?"

Woorin asked while holding onto a tray of oreo stuffed chocolate chip cookies that she and Nayoung had baked earlier. Nayoung pointed towards to her right and to the front of the room.

"Oh, that. You can put it over there with the other food the others should have brought for the potluck. I'm going to be on the other side where the gifts are and you can meet me over there."

"Okay."

The duo bid one another a wave as they went their separate ways. Woorin softly, but briskly made her way over to the long table and scanned it to see where she could place the plastic tray of baked goods. After finding a spot and placing it there, Woorin turned around to find her friend when she almost ran into another body, but was quick to react and move out of their way. It was Nayoung's boyfriend, Mark.

To this day, Woorin still didn't really like Mark as she felt he was kind of sketchy and weird, but she kept her dislike under the surface and only voiced her thoughts whenever it was just her and Nayoung. If he made her friend happy and wasn't an asshole from what she could tell, then she could allow Nayoung that happiness and not ruin it for her just because she didn't like the guy.

"Hi, Woorin." Mark greeted her with a smile as Woorin did the same, but out of politeness. "Hey, Mark."

"It's good to see you. Didn't think you'll show up to one of these since you haven't attended the past ones. How are you?"

"I'm good and I wasn't, but thought I'll see how it is nowaways. You?"

"I'm doing fine. Is Nayoung around as I'm assumed she invited you?"

"Yeah, she did. She's at the gift table. Nayoung didn't want to come alone since you had something to do before you came here."

"Oh yeah, I did. I just had to pick up Jinyoung from the airport. He should be around here, somewhere."

"Ah, Jinyoung. You invited him?"

"Of course since he'll be coming back to work at The Street again, but at the Itaewon location instead of the one here in Cheongdam."

"I see. That's good. That's real good." Woorin changed the topic. "Anyways, yeah, Nayoung should be putting her gift away and I'm gotta use the restroom."

"Okay. Thanks. It was good seeing you."

"Yeah, likewise."

The two bid one another goodbye as Mark made his way in the direction of where the gifts were while Woorin made a beeline towards the exit. Woorin only came to the party in support of her friend who has worked since it opened, but it was also because she knew that Jinyoung wasn't going to be here at the party. He hasn't been able to attend the previous ones, too, and so she thought she was in the clear. Woorin used to work at The Street located in Cheongdam of where she met Jinyoung. The two were a couple before their breakup three years ago and it didn't end on good terms.

Although Woorin came here with Nayoung and may not have recognized the new faces, but she didn't feel like staying after all knowing there was one face she'll have to look at again knowing memories would resurface without her permission. Unfortunately for Woorin, her escape was intercepted by four familiar faces.

"Oh ho ho. Is that our little Woorin?" Taecyeon cooed upon recognizing her first with the largest grin on his face.

"It is." Minjun confirmed with a gummy smile. "I didn't think we'll be see you again after so long."

"Yeah, hey, hi guys." Woorin awkwardly greeted them. "I just dropped off the food for Nayoung. I was just leaving."

"Already?" Nichkhun frowned. "You just got here. We actually have more games and raffles going on this year. You should stay."

"Um, I dunno. It might be awkward."

"Nonsense. Come along." Wooyoung said as he took a hold of her forearm and pulled her along to where everyone was gathering while leaning down to whisper his next words. "Did you bring any chicken?"

"Wooyoung. We have loads of chicken coming in a few minutes." Minjun stated with a roll of his eyes. "Stop bothering the kids about it."

"I just wanted to know. Can't have enough chicken at these things."

Woorin just continued to smile politely as she got dragged along, but trying to get her arm out from Wooyoungs grip was a lot harder when Taecyeon was on her other side with his smiling face that pulled her in to just go with the flow. Woorin gave up and just hoped she didn't have to interact with Jinyoung at all.

"Limbo Queen! Limbo Queen! Limbo Queen!"

Nayoung began the chant to cheer and annoy Woorin as she and five others were still in the running to see how low they could go for limbo. Before Woorin quit, her record was at 36 inches and since then no one has been able to beat it except coming close to it. Woorin cast a glare in her friend's direction only to receive a smirk in response. The crowd began to cheer for the contenders as they limbo underneath the 48 inches, but Minho and Felix were unable to complete it as they ended up falling onto their backs. Now it was just Woorin, Momo, Sana, and Mina left.

"Since we have our reigning queen, Woorin, here with us, let's just go straight to thirty-six inches." Chansung announced happily as everyone agreed except Woorin.

"No, no, no. It's supposed to be forty-four inches next." Woorin informed as her back was starting to hurt and she was glad she opted out of wearing heels in favor of flats. "How about we just end the game and move on to the next one?"

"Should we do what Woorin said?" Chansung asked the crowd as they all disagreed and he smiled at Woorin. "Sorry. The crowd wants what they want."

He and Junho lowered the bar to 36 inches while motioning for the quartet to go on through with giddily expressions. Woorin let out a breath and knew she shouldn't have said yes to Nayoung. She forgot how the managers were persistent in games and such. Woorin mustered up a smile and tiredly bent backwards to maneuvered under the rainbow bar and slowly, but successfully completed the 36 inches. Woorin realized after doing so how much it ached once she was upright and memories from the last time she did it she was like three years younger.

The cheers were loud for Woorin and even louder as the next trio of girls went next. Momo went next and she almost completed it, but she lost her footing and shot out a hand to grab at the bar to catch her fall. This caused her to be eliminated. Sana went next as she kept going up to the bar, but eventually she just gave up as she knew that she wouldn't be able to go that low. Mina was next and for the last three years she was unable to actually complete the stage and only able to complete 38 inches instead.

This year, Mina psyched herself up along with the cheers of her fellow crew and she ended up successfully being able to limbo the 36 inches. Woorin noticed again since they started the whole limbo thing how Mina bent backwards and slowly inched her way under the colorful bar. This got Woorin thinking of an idea that she hoped would end her record to crown someone else. Plus, limbo caused too much commotion for her liking and she only ever went through with it was because she got caught up in the moment.

"Alright, alright. It's definitely best of the best now." Chansung announced as he motioned to the last two contestants with a grin. "It's down to current three year in a row champion, Mina, and three years ago and record holder champion, Woorin."

"Who is it going to be this year? Mina or Woorin?" Junho added with a eye-smile. "Let's find out as we'll drop it down to 32 inches which neither of the two have been able to get to or complete."

Woorin motioned for Mina to go on first with a smile. Mina smiled back with a nod as she went to try the new settings. It was close to either fail or succeed, but Mina eventually was able to pass on through and complete it. Although the pressure was on Woorin, she played along and let out a worry breath as she stared at the new lowered bar, but slowly attempted it. She bent her back as low as she could while trying to pass underneath the bar, but at the last second her head bumped into the bar. Everyone let out disappointed words, but Woorin just smiled as she congratulated Mina in being the new record holder as well as third time champion.

"Congrats as the overall Limbo Queen!" Woorin congratulated Mina as Mina thanked her. "Thank you and you're a worthy opponent, Woorin."

"You're welcome and likewise."

As they moved on to the next game and everyone's attention elsewhere, Woorin thankfully made her way to the food table without any disturbances although she did massaged her lower back while doing so. Except for one person as Nayoung joined her shortly afterwards.

"You lost on purpose didn't you?" Nayoung asked while nudging Woorin.

"What? No I did not. Why would you say such a thing, Nayoung? I would never do such a thing. Ever." Woorin denied sarcastically with a smile while casting Nayoung a look. "My back was starting to ache though. I'm getting old."

"We're the same age. If you're saying your old, then I'm old, too."

"You are."

"True."

"Anyways," Woorin returned her attention to back what she was doing as she scanned the items for what she wanted to eat. "Now, what should I eat?"

Nayoung nudged Woorin again while speaking. "Anyways, have you noticed who's been staring at you since we began?"

"Nope. Don't know who you're talking about."

"Don't lie."

"I'm not. I don't care."

"Yeah, right. You've been avoiding him since the party started."

"It's not avoiding. It's ignoring. There's a difference."

"Oh, c'mon. Same difference either way. It's been like three years. Not like you guys didn't know that you guys broke up."

"That's the thing, Nayoung. We said some not so nice things that just ended the relationship on the spot and we left it like that."

"Bruh, and you forgot to tell me that part?"

"Because it doesn't include you."

"True."

Just as Nayoung was about to change the topic to something else she heard her name being called and rushed over after telling Woorin to stick around some more. Woorin just rolled her eyes as she piled her plate with some goodies before grabbing a few water bottles and headed somewhere else where there was no one else to have her stick around. Woorin actually wandered out of the party venue and up a flight of stairs knowing where she wanted to go. It led her to the rooftop and she was thankful that it wasn't snowing and that the weather wasn't super cold for her to not hang outside since she didn't want to go back inside.

Woorin walked towards the edge and set her plate and bottles on the ground before leaning her arms on the ledge to stare at the city lights. There was just something about the night time setting that always put her at ease. She looked towards the sky and barely managed to spy a few of the stars twinkling down at the city, but it didn't lose it's calming effect on her. Woorin turned her gaze towards the streets below and wondered when was the last time she was able to just relax and enjoyed the scenery around her like. Too lost in her own thoughts and relaxation, Woorin didn't hear or notice another person joining her until he spoke.

"I see that some things never changed." Jinyoung commented as Woorin slowly turned to look at her ex-boyfriend who was also gazing at the city lights.

His profile remained the same as she last remembered, yet different somehow. Woorin's eyes returned forward as she didn't respond and just gazed at the people and car below. The silence between them wasn't awkward as she had expected. It felt like time had never changed with what had occurred between them three years ago.

"If I recall," Jinyoung suddenly spoke, but kept his eyes ahead of him, "We first met on the rooftop of The Street and grew closer after that day. Didn't we?"

Woorin was on her lunch break and had taken it on the work's rooftop. No one really spent time here as they preferred to go out somewhere or spend it in the office chatting with the bosses. So for her she called it her own little personal hangout whenever work got stressful or the co-workers got annoying. Today, Woorin just needed time away from the annoying customers that bugged her earlier and the reason on why Nayoung told her to go take a breather because of it. So here she was casually taking a breather and people watching below. Woorin enjoyed it the most when she didn't really have to interact with other people and dealing with their orders and compliants.

A few minutes later Woorin's quiet moment was interrupted when she heard the door slammed open and a male voice sputtering angry words into the afternoon air. She languidly turned her head to look over her shoulder at who it could be and saw that it was one of the new guys that was recently hired a week or two ago. Woorin coudn't recall his name, but if her memory served her right with Nayoung's updates about all things work related then he should be Jinyoung. If not him, then it would be the other guy named Jaebeom. Woorin wasn't sure as she hasn't gotten the chance to work with either of them yet, but then again she didn't really care for the newbies until she had to deal with them during her shift.

Woorin returned her gaze back to people watching as the guy hadn't noticed Woorin as he continued to pace angrily while muttering to himself continuously nonstop. She didn't want to eavesdrop, but it was kind of hard not to when she was still within the vicinity of hearing him rant. Letting out a long sigh after checking her phone to see how much longer she had before her break was over before turning to look at the guy again.

"Hey." Woorin called out to him which got his attention and making him even more alert than before. "If you wanna rant, then please do it elsewhere or more quietly. Some of us are trying to enjoy the peaceful quietness of this afternoon weather before returning to work and dealing with customers. Thanks."

Woorin shot him a forced smile before resuming her thing before he came along.

"I can rant however I like. This space isn't just yours to use." Jinyoung retorted.

Woorin didn't bother turning around, but she did held up her hand to wave at the air in a whatever motion.

"Sure, yeah, whatever. Go ahead, but don't blame me if something happens to you."

Jinyoung joined Woorin at the ledge and she slightly edged away not liking her personal bubble being invaded. She also didn't bother to pay him any attention and continued with her people watching until her lunch break was over.

"Is that a threat? Do I need to file a compliant with one of the bosses about that?" Jinyoung inquired. "Are you someone I should be cautious of?"

Woorin lazily looked over at him with a bored look. Before she could give him answers her phone's alarm beeped indicating that her break was over. She pushed off from the ledge while backing away with a smile directed at Jinyoung before turning around and heading back down to resume her shift.

"Hey, wait! I'm being serious here!" Jinyoung called after her, but Woorin just waved him off and exited the rooftop without a second glance in his direction.

Woorin let out a scoff with a roll of her eyes and a laugh. "No, Jinyoung. Not exactly."

"Oh, right. I remember now. You bullied me for the next few weeks after that incident." Jinyoung stated with a small smile.

"Not even. I had to clean up after you so many times that you could keep your job even though I don't get why I even did that." Woorin glared at him. "I don't know anyone who could've fucked up so many times on the Beaver Tail Choco Banana. It's so easy to make and set up."

"Why are you getting so worked up about that?" Jinyoung laughed. "That was like years ago."

"Because every time you messed up it came out of my paycheck." Woorin revealed and Jinyoung frowned. "Wait, seriously?"

Woorin didn't answer him and faced the night sky instead.

"Woorin." Jinyoung called for her attention, but she didn't give in as Jinyoung continued speaking anyways. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because it didn't matter." Woorin replied.

"Yes it did. You got shorted when it was all my fault and you could have easily paid for your schooling faster."

"It's all in the past, Jinyoung. Forget about it."

"Ho-"

"I said to forget about it, Jinyoung. Okay?"

Jinyoung dropped the subject as the silence fell between them again. This time there was a slight shift in the air and after a moment or two, Jinyoung didn't want it to come between them again.

"So why did you agreed to go on a date with me when I caused you to probably hated my guts entirely?"

"Can you like not schedule me and Jinyoung on the same shift?" Woorin asked Nayoung one day as the two were at Nayoung's house watching a drama.

"What's wrong with working with Jinyoung?" Nayoung asked turning to face her friend.

Woorin looked over at her with an annoyed look. "He's still messing up despite working there for like four months now. I hate cleaning up after him."

"That's weird. He's been doing fine when I work with him. The same with Ayeon and Nakjoon, too. He works just fine when we're on the same shift with Jinyoung."

Both Nayoung and Woorin returned their attention back onto the TV.

"He's probably messing with me then since him and I didn't have a good first impression. Then again, he's an idiot and I'm just done with yelling at the new kids."

"No, Woorin. You can't be like that. You have to teach and nuture these kids." Nayoung mused from what their big boss would tell them.

Woorin shook her head while letting out a frustrated breath. "Hell no. He's fucking up so much that I'm getting my paycheck cut."

"I thought you talked to Mr. Park about all of that."

"Yeah, I did, but he just told me that he'll reimbursed me at the end of the year for all of that."

"That's dumb. You're supposed to wait until the end of the year to get your money back?"

"I know and something like that, yeah."

"But paying for school isn't a big deal, right?"

"No. Mr. Park and I had worked something out and so it's going well for now."

"Okay, good to know. Anyways, maybe you make Jinyoung nervous?"

"Nervous how? I'm the one that helps him the most even when there's others that can do that. Like you."

"Maybe he has a crush on you." Nayoung mused as Woorin rolled her eyes. "This isn't grade school, Nayoung."

"Hmm, that's not what Mark's been telling me."

"Can I even trust your boyfriend's words?"

Nayoung rolled her eyes. "I know you don't like him a whole lot, but he's not that bad."

"I dunno. He's shady as fuck."

"You just don't like him because he broke your laptop that one time."

"Yeah, because he broke my laptop. Mine. Not his. Mine." Woorin defended and clarified. "How is someone gonna break someone else's property just because he got angry that he lost in World of Warcraft?"

"He did said that he was either gonna fix it or buy you a new one to make up for it." Nayoung reminded Woorin. "But you refused his offer."

"I know. Maybe I shoudn't have because I ended up turning in my essay late that week."

"You passed the class didn't you?"

"I did, but I had to spend my hours in the library without my laptop."

"Anyways, back on the other topic," Nayoung said as she returned them both onto the topic of Jinyoung, "Don't you think it's kind of obvious that he's messing up so that he could get your attention?"

"That's a dumbass way to get a girl's attention by fucking up so many times and deducting her paycheck."

"Shit, I dunno. Why not ask him?"

"Yeah, right. I ain't gonna ask his ass about that."

"Maybe you don't have to." Nayoung grinned mischievously while holding her phone for Woorin to see the screen. "How about a double date then?"

"Is that why you and I were each other's date on their date that day?" Jinyoung asked with a laugh as the memory came to mind.

"Uh, correction. You and I were third and fourth-wheeling that night. We weren't on a date." Woorin clarified. "We just happened to enjoy the other's company without feeling hostile and annoyed."

"By hostile and annoyed, you meant yourself, right?"

"You're still annoying as ever."

Jinyoung chuckled as Woorin side-eyed him.

"I wondered what made me fall for you."

Jinyoung stopped chuckling and looked over at her with a small smile.

"Wasn't it my good charms and fashion sense?"

Woorin shook her head with a laugh.

"Not even. Those were just bonuses."

"Oh, really? Tell me more."

"Shut up. Don't get all smug about it."

Jinyoung laughed once more before speaking again. "Well, why you're still wondering what made you fall for me, should I tell you what made me fall for you?"

"You're staring again." Jaebeom said as he nudged Jinyoung to focus on the task at hand.

"Was it obvious?" Jinyoung asked while glancing around the work space.

"Not to her at least." Jaebeom chuckled before looking at the dessert plate that Jinyoung had been working on before making an unsure face. "I don't know what you're gonna do, but you're gonna have to fix that and fast before Woorin finds out you messed up again."

Jinyoung glanced down at the Beaver Tail Choco Banana plate he was working on for a customer and groaned.

"Where's BamBam when I need him. He can totally distract her and make her forget all the messed up I made today."

"Too bad he's off. Jackson does a pretty good job.

"Not today. She sent him to the store because she couldn't handle his excessive chatter today. Ugh, she's gonna kill me."

"She can't. She doesn't want to be a murderer or go to jail."

"Why would you say something like that?"

"Because I heard her muttered it one time the other day when you dropped the mac and cheese in front of the customer and then served another customer the ham and cheese sandwich when it wasn't even theirs."

Jinyoung closed his eyes in frustration while letting out a groan. He wasn't sure why he was messing up so much and more today than any other days, but for some reason Woorin was seriously a major distraction on his part.

"I'm surprised Woorin has this much patience and controlled of her anger to deal with how much you've fucked up since you started." Jaebeom stated with a laugh as Jinyoung cast him an annoyed look. "Me, too, but I'm completely fine when she's not working. I don't mess up at all."

"Maybe she makes you nervous, Jinyoung." Jaebeom reasoned, but grinned mischievously. "In a different way than normal."

"You might be right, Jaebeom." Jinyoung agreed with a defeated sigh. "There's no way another human being can have that high enough tolerance of my clumsiness without wanting to throttle me to death by now."

"I just gotta ask man, but what is it that you like about Woorin?"

"She's very patient and has high tolerance of others. Also, she's kinda cute when she's mad."

"Wow, but hey, if you think of Woorin like that, then shouldn't you be thinking of a way on how to make it up to her?"

"Oh, so you're the culprit that would leave me a caramel latte in my locker before my shift?" Woorin accused Jinyoung with a look.

"Yes. That was me and before I knew that you didn't like coffee." Jinyoung explained. "I could only assume since that's what you would order before you left home."

"I only bought that for Nayoung because she likes that."

"Do you do everything that Nayoung asks?" Jinyoung mused as Woorin scoffed. "No. Just when I need her to get off my back."

"Besides, I already had a feeling it was you who left them there." Woorin admitted with a small chuckle.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Jinyoung asked in shocked. "I would have changed the drink or maybe got you a dessert instead."

"Because you were happy in doing something small for me and I didn't want to ruin that for you. It was kind of cute and sweet." Woorin admitted. "Plus, Nayoung got her free drink and in return she would give me mine."

"Which would be the winter-melon and almond bubble tea."

"Yeah."

Woorin was gonna allow another moment of silence fall between them, but Jinyoung once again wouldn't allow it.

"So why did we break up?"

"Because you wanted to travel and I wanted to stay here." Woorin answered without hesitation.

"Woorin! Woorin! I did it! I did it! It happened! It actually happened and I actually got accepted!" Jinyoung exclaimed as he entered The Street with his acceptance letter in hand while Woorin was in the middle of making a caramel latte art.

"Hold on, Jinyoung." Woorin told her boyfriend as she was in the midst of finishing the drink.

"Okay, Chan, here you go, but please be careful with it." She informed another co-worker as she set the small cup onto a small plate for Chan to run it out. "Please make sure this customer gets the toast all warmed up, too. She's very particular of her order. Thanks."

"Already took care of the toast, Woorin. Thanks." Chan stated with a bright smile before running out the order.

Woorin finally turned her attention onto Jinyoung. "So what's up?"

"Here!"

Jinyoung enthusiastically shoved the letter into his girlfriend's hands as Woorin scanned the content of the letter before flashing a smile at her boyfriend.

"Wow, congratulations, Jinyoung! I'm super happy you got accepted to Juilliard. That's super fantastic."

"I know and I can't wait for the both of us to travel to New York City this summer so that you can see where we'll be staying for fall semester and-"

"Whoa, whoa, Jinyoung. Slow down." Woorin said with furrowed eyebrows. "What do you mean by us?"

"You're gonna come with me right?" Jinyoung asked with a curious expression. "It's everything we've been talking about for months now."

"Well, yeah, Jinyoung, but that was for you. Not me."

"I don't get it."

"Jinyoung, I don't want to leave Seoul."

"I applied to Juilliard so that we could travel and see things outside of Seoul, Woorin."

"That's nice, Jinyoung, but I never told you that I wanted to travel outside of Seoul though. I thought we were going to try the whole long distance relationship thing."

"No, Woorin. We were going to stay together and do things together without being apart from one another."

"But Jinyoung, we never really talked about it. That's just you assuming what's best for the both of us."

"Well, at least I'm thinking about our future."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You've been so busy lately that you cancelled on our dates six times already. Plus I haven't even gotten the chance to hangout and cuddle with my girlfriend without work or schoolwork getting in the way of it. I some times wonder if I even have a girlfriend at all."

"Well, I'm sorry that I've been a bad girlfriend, Jinyoung, alright. Also, I'm more focused on working to make money to pay for my schooling to get a higher education, too. Not all of us have Daddy and Mommy paying for it without worrying about it."

"And I offered to help you out with that, but you're so stubborn to accept it."

"Offering to pay for my schooling is totally and absolutely hella different than paying for our dinner dates, Jinyoung."

"It's the same difference, Woorin. They're both getting paid for in the end. Right?"

"That's not how relationships work, Jinyoung." Woorin let out an exasperated sigh.

"Maybe this relationship between us isn't working out after all." Jinyoung reasoned in all seriousness.

Woorin shot him a slightly hurt look. "Is that how you feel about us?"

"Some times, yes, I do." Jinyoung admitted honestly.

Woorin scoffed. "You're unbelievable."

The tension in the air caused Woorin to finally take noticed of her surrounding when she felt a tap on her shoulder from one of her co-workers.

"Um, Woorin, I need change in register two." Jae informed her a bit hesitantly. "I'm out of five hundred won coins."

"Yeah, um here." Woorin said as she handed Jae her keys to take care of it. "It's the smaller one with green markings on it."

"Thanks."

Jae scurried away to leave her and Jinyoung to their own thing. Once he left, Woorin realized that she and Jinyoung were still out in the open of The Street and saw that the other workers and customers could hear their conversation and see that the couple were having a lover's spat. She hated when personal things happened at work like this and needed to get it under control.

"Look, Jinyoung," Woorin returned her attention onto Jinyoung, "Let's talk about this later. I still have to work." Woorin suggested with a pleading look. "OK?"

"We never got to talk later, did we?" Jinyoung asked with a regretful tone.

"No, we didn't." Woorin confirmed matching his tone.

The two didn't look at one another as they kept their attention to the view before them. Allowing the memories of the past to fill in the space around them once again. That night when they were supposed to talk about the whole New York City thing, Woorin had to stayed late and closed because Nayoung got food poisoning and couldn't work. As for Jinyoung he had to pack and get ready for his trip overseas and had to take care of the necessary paperwork.

Eventually in the end life got the better for the both of them and they were unable to find the time to work it out and have that talk. By the time the two did have time, Jinyoung was already miles away in another country and Woorin had just finished her final exams. It was too late for a talk and so it was too late to mend the bond between them. Their relationship ended then and there at The Street and neither wanted to give in and contact the other to talk it out.

"You wanna know something?" Jinyoung suddenly asked as Woorin answered promptly. "Not really."

Jinyoung rolled his eyes as Woorin chuckled. "What is it? You're gonna tell me anyways."

"I wanted to call you these past three years, but I figured that I would be fine and that the feelings would fade over time. It never did."

Woorin didn't respond and Jinyoung continued taking her silence as a positive thing.

"I wanted to see if you were doing fine, Woorin. I really wanted to know if you were happy and living life without me in it or if you were just as miserable as I was knowing that the person you loved wasn't right by you." Jinyoung admitted as he confessed his thoughts and feelings over the past three years.

"Well, you've seen me and I'm just peachy." Woorin shot him a smile, but Jinyoung noticed that it didn't reach her eyes.

"Are you though?"

"It's life, Jinyoung. I lived and got through it. I'm still here, aren't I? It wasn't easy, but I was able to live my life and I don't regret it. Maybe, except for one thing."

"Would that one thing be about us?" Jinyoung asked hopefully. "Because honestly, I kept thinking about the last conversation we had and realized they were said out of frustration and that we were still young in love, but I regretted how we ended that day three years ago."

"I get it, Jinyoung. I really do and maybe it was or maybe it wasn't. Still, we had our own paths to take and live. Life got in the way when we made our decisions to do so. That's the only way we'll flourish without someone or something holding us back from recognizing that."

"I thought relationships were always about compromises and that's why you and I were unable to agree with what was right for the both of us at the time."

"No, Jinyoung, that wasn't it."

"Then what was it, Woorin?"

"Our relationship fell through because we didn't collaborate right."

"Huh?"

Jinyoung was confused by what Woorin meant and at that moment the both of them turned to look at the other.

"It's all about the collaboration between two people working on it together without losing themselves, Jinyoung. If we compromised all the time, then we would always lose a bit of ourselves over time in doing so."

"Is that what happened to us?" Jinyoung genuinely asked. "Did we compromised too much that we ended up losing one another?"

Woorin shook her head with a sad smile before answering him. "No, Jinyoung. We didn't do either. We just went with the flow without any direction of how our future together would be like and assume in our own way of what would be best for us."

"Well, that was then, Woorin." Jinyoung cast her a smile. "How about now?"

"You seriously want us to start dating again?" Woorin asked not sure if she should amused him or not.

"Yeah. Why not? We didn't leave on good terms the last time we saw each other and it's been like three years since then. I think we can start a whole new chapter or maybe even another book to the series." Jinyoung reasoned before casting her a charming smile. "Besides, you haven't told me why you fell for me in the first place."

"Okay, another chapter or a book. Wow." Woorin laughed at the idea before biting her bottom lip as a giggle escaped. "I honestly don't know, but I do know that I just liked you, Jinyoung. I probably still do and maybe why I even tolerated your presence again."

"Well, I'm going to take that as a good thing because I still like you, too, Woorin."

The pair genuinely smiled at one another having righted their little mishap three years ago. Jinyoung took one of Woorin's hand in his and just as he was about to do something, the rooftop's door banged opened revealing two of their ex-co-workers, Youngjae and Jimin.

"Hey, it's so pretty up here. Wow, it's amazing." Youngjae said in awe with Jimin beside him. "Yeah, I told you that you could see the night sky and the city lights below. Yerin mentioned it last time when she was up here."

The new duo were about to walk towards the ledge and explore the rooftop before catching the other pair and sheepishly apologized.

"Oh, we're sorry. Didn't think anyone else was up here." Jimin apologized while tugging on Youngjae's hand. "Let's go, Youngjae, and leave them alone."

"Yeah, sorry. We didn't mean to interrupt anything important going on between the two of you." Youngjae apologized as he let Jimin tug him away.

Before Woorin could correct the duo's misunderstanding, Jinyoung beat her to it, but continuing the misunderstanding.

"C'mon, Youngjae and Jimin. Woorin and I just made up and were about to kiss."

"Okay, okay, okay! We're leaving and we won't tell anyone to disturb you guys." Youngjae informed them with a laugh as Jimin waved at them with a bright smile. "Congratulations on getting back together you two."

"Thank you!" Jinyoung thanked the duo as the door slammed closed once they left.

"You're such a liar!" Woorin lightly punched him in the arm with her free hand. "That's not what we were doing at all."

"Which part? The getting back together, the making up, or the kissing one?"

"Neither." Woorin deadpanned trying to release her grip from Jinyoung's as he chuckled, but firmly held onto her hand with a mischievous expression.

"I'm pretty sure it was two of them and then the third one I was gonna do just now before those two came and interrupted us."

"You're such a jerk, Jinyoung. I can't believe you were gonna steal a kiss so soon after making up and what not." Woorin eyed him suspiciously while trying to move away from him. "I'm re-thinking this whole us thing again. I think I wanna end it with the last chapter and discontinued the book series."

"No, no, no. What happened to the whole collaborating thing?"

"I dunno, but we can talk tomorrow. Just let me eat my food even though it's like cold by now." Woorin said as she removed her hand out from Jinyoung's and went to pick up the plate she had brought earlier with her. "Yeah? Seems like a good idea, no?"

"That depends, Woorin. Are you gonna be the one that goes overseas and I stay in Seoul this time around?"

"I'm pretty sure Seoul is gonna continue being home for a long while, Jinyoung. I'm not going anywhere."

"Good, because returning home now seems more welcoming than ever before."

"I'm sure it is." Woorin commented with a knowing smile before picking up a chocolate covered strawberry and offering it to Jinyoung.

Jinyoung opened his mouth indicating for Woorin to feed him. She rolled her eyes, but stuffed the treat into his mouth with a laugh. Jinyoung covered his mouth with one hand as he ate the thing whole, but smiled nevertheless knowing that he and Woorin were good again. Good again to start another chapter of their lives, but this time with each other in it.

#staytheb #got7 scenarios #park jinyoung

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drabbleshereandthere · 7 years ago

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Hey, Litter Girl! (1)

Word Count: 1,541

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader

A/N: yikes this actually took forever

Warnings: Cursing, suggested verbal abuse,

Summary: Billy has to go to the library to pick up Max, and finds a ton of crushed up papers with no name on them. One just so happens to be partially open and he reads it. They’re all yours. He calls you litter girl.

To be simply put, Billy was damn tired of everything and everyone. It was Friday evening, and he had a hook up with some chick that approached him about “hanging out” a few days ago. Unfortunately for him, it wasn’t happening. It was pouring rain outside, and Max was late from the arcade earlier. He HAD warned her, if she was late, he was leaving her there and she was skating home.

But unfortunately, that wasn’t happening either.

The plan was to pick Max up, drop her off at the house, and go get his dick wet. But, she was late, so instead he went home to get ready, and once Neil realized Max didn’t accompany Billy home, he angrily sent him out to fetch her from the local library. The woman still working late had called Neil, after Max informed her that she was unable to leave due to the rain. Max had only made it to the library before it started pouring and Billy could bet that she would get the interior of his car soaking wet.

Billy had to go out in the rain to fetch Max, miss his date, explain things to his hook up, apologize to the librarian, deal with a wet interior, and have another shitty evening when he got home after another from Neil. Yeah, he was tired of everything and everyone. This had been going on all week, a real winning streak.

Max was in for it when he showed up. That would be the case, if she wasn’t late for him coming- again. Billy was already wet from racing out of the house and into his car. Now, he was going to have to make the same trip into the fucking library. He needed a light, but since he now had to go inside to retrieve Max, the rain would only put it out. It was fair to say he was more than frustrated at this point. Goddamn it, Maxine.

He opened his Camaro’s door and slammed it, progressively making his way to the doors. He opened them up, and was comforted with the warmth and dim orange lighting of the library. Billy wasn’t exactly focused on that though, more drawn to the soaking Max sitting at a table a little bit away. He took two steps away from the door, and his attention was taken away again by the sound of crumpling under his feet. He scowled and looked down at the culprit of the sound. A lot of crumpled up paper. “A lot” meaning, the small trash can was over flowing and there were quite a few papers strewn about on the outside. He picked the one up that was crunched under his shoe and threw it to the side of the trashcan, out of his way. He noticed that all the papers were crumpled up, but one was left only balled up half way. Fuck it. It was half open, and he picked it up, letting his eyes run over the span of it as his fingers softened the creases in the paper.

What he found was writing scrawled in little bits. They looked like thoughts, accompanied by small illustrations and doodles littered along the sides of the paper. The writing was unorthodox and messy, with each letter connected to some capacity. Almost like a failed attempt at cursive, but the touch was light and dainty he could tell, and it had a certain grace to the way it was written. There was also intrigue in the things written themselves. Whoever was writing these used intricate wording and beautiful descriptions. He picked up another paper to look for a name, and yet there was none. There was, though, a soaking redhead next to him trying to catch his notice. “Are you ready to go? Why are you digging in the trash?” “It’s none of your business what ever the hell I choose to do. For your information, I stepped on the shit and wanted to throw it away.” “You’ve been standing here looking at that for a while, but okay.” He sighed heavily at Max, too exhausted to put up a fight. “Can it and get in the car.”

They both loaded up after trying to guard themselves from the rain on the trip to the car. It was silent, and Max wondered why Billy wasn’t screaming at her. She was prepared for it to come, yet he was just gazing out onto the road, driving. Which wouldn’t be a problem- except it’s Billy and he’s an asshole. All of a sudden, he speaks up, “Did you see who was throwing all of those into the floor without picking em’ up?” “I think so. I wasn’t there very long before she left. But, she was writing. I don’t think she knew that she was getting paper everywhere.” She watched him hesitate before asking: “Who is she?”

Max furrowed her brows. “I don’t know. Why do you care?” “I don’t.” And Billy didn’t. He hadn’t cared too much, at the time. He also didn’t care that your writing had managed to calm his mind. But, that may have been because he didn’t notice, either.

As time passed, for some reason, the writing kept bugging him. It was something you would find in a damn poetry book and yet some girl was sitting in a dusty library throwing it all away. He decided to refer to you as ‘litter girl’ in his head. Billy hadn't realized that upon leaving the library, he`d kept your paper in his pocket. What he unfortunately notice, though, was that he kept reading the damned thing whenever he found himself in a bad mood. It was calming- the simplistic drawings and the elegance in the flow of wording, and he didn't even like to read. It was annoying him- that some shitty paper he found on the library floor was helping him out. But then again, it wasn't like anyone else knew about it, and if he wanted to read then he damn well could.

Next Monday, when Billy pulled into the school parking lot, there was nothing that could have prepared him for what was going to happen that day. Billy would skip class whenever he could, but that day just wasn’t one of them. He’d been skipping more and more frequently, and Neil kept getting on his ass- so there he was, suffering in the third period of the day. Third period was always long. No matter what. If any class was going to seem like 5 hours long, anyone could count on it being English. The teacher was always a bitchy, monotone, asshole, and that wasn’t even the worst part. Billy swore that she chose the most mind numbing material available. He wasn’t exactly a genius, but he knew “good stuff” when he saw it.

He was prepared for that period to be shitty as always- but for the third time, things didn’t go as planned. It was even shittier than usual- somehow. They were being partnered up for a project that Billy didn’t want to learn anything about- or put any effort into. And to his dismay, he got partnered with a girl he didn’t know, and didn’t want to put any effort into knowing. So he wouldn’t, he decided. He would let her do her part. That was how it always went. That was how it was supposed to go.

It didn’t go that way at all.

When his name rang out following yours, you knew that this was going to be tougher than usual because of who you were with. Billy Hargrove. He was going to need an extra push in the right direction, and if you gave him a push that tilted him in the wrong direction even a smidge, this project was going to turn into a raging dumpster fire on his part. You decided then and there, that with all your power, you would attempt to make this work. You had hit a roadblock too many times lately, supported by the overwhelming evidence of ideas tossed about across the library floor- and this wasn’t going to turn into one too.

By the time the droning was over from the instructor explaining the project, the bell had seconds before it rang to signal next period’s start. You caught Billy walking out the classroom at just the right time. In your planning of making this work, you had written your number on a sticky note to give to him to make sure everything went smoothly. “Hargrove!” He peered back at you and raised an eyebrow. “Here’s my number,” you stuck the note to his chest and began walking in your next classes direction while still facing him, “Use it!” Then you turned, and you left almost soon as you came.

He tore the sticky note off his chest with a grimace, slightly annoyed at the girl who was bold to give him orders. Who the hell were you? Then he remembered with a following roll of his eyes. You were his project partner. He didn’t plan on using it. But, something caught his eye. The writing was familiar in some way. Your number was written across the note, and then your name with a dash next to it. (Y/N). The fuck?. He didn’t recognize it, and brushed it off. He kept the number, just in case.

As hours of the day passed, that note bothered the shit out of him. Eventually, he got tired of it, and decided to just call the number. There wasn’t any harm in it. He mulled it over- actually doing the project- or maybe talking you into doing it. Defenitely attempting to talking you into doing it.

You were proud. You went up to Billy Hargrove, and did what you needed to do. You may have had to calm yourself down and debate on whether to apologize for being so brash- for an entire hour- but it was all fine now. Nothing could change it anyway. You had a feeling, though, that even with your effort, he wasn’t going to make use of it. So it was the biggest surprise when he did.

----------------------------------------------

A/N: Decided to turn this into a two parter just because I don't have the motivation to finish and I want to put something out. Enjoy :)

#billy fanfiction #billy hargrove drabble #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x you #billy x reader #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove series #billy hargrove #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

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aspiestvmusings · 6 years ago

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MY REVIEW: CAPTAIN MARVEL

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR “Captain Marvel” (2019) FILM & MCU (A:E4) FILMS

SO ONLY READ IF YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY OK WITH BEING SPOILED BEFORE SEEING THE FILM. IF YOU DON’T WANT SPOILERS, TURN AWAY...RIGHT NOW! BECAUSE I’M LETTING THE CAT OUT OF THE BAG! I TALK ABOUT THE FILM, AND THE END CREDITS SCENES & EVERYTHING!

Here are some of the bits from the early screening I got to see earlier this week:

The biggest laughs from the room came during the scenes where the 1990s nostalgia kicked in for the audience (I’d say most of the people around me were old enough to remember those days, I did not see many teens being at the event that evening) - the dial-up internet (taking forever to load) & during certain Goose scenes/moments.

For me, personally (as someone old enough to remember the 1990s, which is when the film takes place - I was a kid/teen back then) it was simply a trip down on memory lane. The music! (how it was incorporated in the film made me think of GotG & the mixtapes!!), the little details - Blockbuster, Radio Shack, payphones, pagers, dial-up internet, arcade games, popular 1990s toys... And I am guessing that “nostalgia” plays a big part in me actually finding the film quite likable. Because I am not a superhero film fan. Nor am I a fan of blockbuster films.

What made the film for me? The 1990s music! The 1990s feel (nostalgia). The cat... Goose, the cat. Goose & Fury! Carol & Fury. The humour...cause unlike Yon-Rogg says to Veers...humour is good! Right from the start...with the Blockbuster crashing & the security guard in the car... to the 1990s references...to Goose... to... a lot more. And yes... every time a 1990s pop-song was incorporated into a scene I thought of GotG and the 1970s/1980s music - Quills mixtapes.

Note: If Captain Marvel/Carol & GotG/Peter should ever meet...in one of the MCU universes, then can I request a dance-off scene, or a karaoke contest or just mix-tape (80s vs 90s) contest between them? In whatever form? haha

The man who started it all: Stan Lee. We open the film with the Marvel sign/logo being made of images/scenes of Stan Lee. The pictures will the letters that make up the logo. And then the dedication... to him.

The Stan Lee actual cameo scene happens pretty early in the film. It’s during the public transport scene. When Carol is looking for the shape-shifting aliens (the old lady from the trailer) she is looking at everyone as she moves along. there is someone reading “the paper” (actually a script..that little fun nod was too much to reveal right away) & their face is not seen. When the man “peeks out” from behind the “newspaper”, we see that it’s Stan. But what makes the scene is the way “Carol” softly smiles at the man. #Truth

Carol Danver’s/Captain Marvel’s Kree-name Vers (veers... very Dutch) actually comes from her Earth-name. Her name tag was broken into two pieces during the crash 6 years earlier, one part Carol Den... was in Maria’s possession as “the only thing that survived the crash” & the other was in the possession of Yon-Rogg and it said “vers” (end of her last name), and that’s the origins of that name.

There are several meant-to-be-for-fun-and-laughs scenes. One of them involves Fury & someone else talking about the characters names. Mar-vell or Marvel? One word/name or two words/two-part name? Other characters, too, had names that are well-known from history/literature, and just with adding a dash in the middle. e.g. Minerva Min-Erva

The film is filled with little nods, and details, and small things. There were too many to list them all. But the looks said it all. The props said it all. The set dressings/props (pinball machines, lunchboxes, baseball balls, payphones, pagers, 1990s pop-culture references everywhere) and little looks and facial expressions...that say more than any dialogue would. I don’t know how the younger audience will feel about those things, but those of us born before 1990, who can remember 1995 (the film is mostly set in that year... 6 years after 1989) & the 1990s in general will most likely become kinda nostalgic & remember their childhood/youth when watching the film. So if nothing else... the film has that... The film is one big 1990s meme. I’d say that’s the most accurate description.

And I liked how it showcased that it's important to pay attention to detail, and background. Like the scene where Carol finds/sees the photo of the moment before the fatal flight, and focuses on the background... finding herself on the photo. Behind others...

Next to other details were small details connecting this film to the larger MCU. Nods & mentions of things & people we’re familiar with - the Tesseract, Ronan, Coulson... etc).

Goose, the cat. For me, someone who is not familiar with the comics & not aware of MCU (outside the films IronMan has been in), that twist was unexpected. When some characters early in meeting Goose suggested that it’s not a cat, but a Flerken (an alien species that has long octopus-like-tentacles coming out of its mouth & can eat anything...no matter the size... and material), I did not expect that to be the truth. So... when it turned out that the Skrull being “afraid” of the “cat” was not just scenes made to be funny, I quite liked it. Yeah, that’s not a sweet cat..all the time. When Goose wants, she can eat anything (Tesseract) or anyone (bad guys) - it’s like Gooses inside can fill entire universes in it..

So... Goose ended up being the shapeshifting alien... and in a way “foreshadowed” the twist reveal about the skrulls - that not all is as it seems, and you can’t judge a book by it’s cover. Goose being not a cat as we saw her, but a flerken was a nice “hint” at how the truth can change with new info added...

Which makes me now think that there is one more possibility of how Thanos can be beaten in MCU/AE4. Goose can just eat him... and all’s done? ;)

The Skrulls: Now...that’s another twist that will most likely be unexpected to others like me, who are not familiar with the Marvel comics/cinematic universe. Though it’s not as unexpected, and there are kind of hints throughout the film telling us that the narrator (Yon-Rogg) cannot be trusted to tell the truth, it was still quite interesting to find out the real story. The Skrulls motives turned out to be not what Jude Law’s character wanted Carol think they were. That was a nice “twist”. And it tied all into Vers training..where Yon-Rogg had been manipulating her mind...in order to keep her true powers under control (think with your head instead of heart - and though I generally don’t agree - I always say mind/facts before heart/feelings, then in this case its fitting... for this character’s story). But...in general... that twist/reveal kinda meant a sudden & bland end to the Kree/Skrull wars storyline idea. That was..IMO... a missed opportunity, and a letdown. It shouldn’t end with “that was it? and there was/won’t be nothing more to it?”

More 1990s thoughts: the aliens & the secret underground labs & the vaults filled with shelves of files... all made me think of The X-Files...so much. Those visuals... so much like moments from Mulder & Scully’s investigations into “secret government projects”. I found those visual parallels quite... similar.

Captain Marvel/Carol Danvers vs IronMan/Tony Stark parallels. This was one of the things I personally saw in the film. In Ironman/Avengers we’ve seen & heard it being implied by some characters that Tony is nothing without the suits & the toys/technology. In this film similar thing was suggested about CM/Carol and her “suit” (the powers she literally holds in her hands/palms). But both assumptions are incorrect. Just like Carol proved that she is even more powerful when she isn’t limited by the “in the box” thinking, same applies to Tony - he is more than his suits. I found those parallels to be... interesting & telling. Both characters have humanity, and strength. They both get up every time they fall/fail (as demonstrated, visually, in the montage scene of Carol getting up...every time she “failed”...through the years). So... just like Jude Law’s character is wrong in this film about Carol. certain characters in MCU are also wrong about Tony, when they make similar claims. IMO

I even kinda liked the way the film was set up. How it started with her/Vers unable to sleep (”nightmares” - memories from the time she wads Carol) & knocking on her “friends” door early in the morning.... and later we learn that she used to do the same back on Earth, when Carol used to wake up Maria early in the mornings...to go flying...when they were pilots. To the way the flashbacks/memories from another life were incorporated into the present day events (via “memory extraction”, via dreams, via old photos, via “daydreaming”...) It was kinda fitting for this film and story and character.

And I liked Carol & Maria’s (and Carol/Monica) friendship/scenes. And all that. The part of the story that revealed who she used to be, and what really happened six years ago... what was that plane crash all about, who was her “mentor” - Mar-Vell and what she really did and what was she working on (that secret technology), who she herself was/is, what’s the deal with skrulls and the technology they were after, who were the team she’d been part of for the past 6 years... etc. There was a lot of content fit into those two hours.

Other than that...there were also many many unexplained things. And many unanswered questions..and even new questions were raised that fans are trying to find answers to now. Goose’s fate - what happened to Goose - how will Goose’s non-appearance & non-mentioning in the past be explained in future films? The Tesseract and it’s fate - what we know from past MCU films & what we saw in this film... how do these stories fit? ... to name a few bigger ones. The film messes with the MCU timeline & it’s possible that it’s full of continuity mistakes, because unless some things are explained in future films, then the name Avengers Initiative, the tesseract’s location, SHIELD’S beginning & naming time, and other things... are confusing.

THE “RANTY” PARTS (IN SEPARATE POST), LINKED HERE & HERE & HERE

THE END:

The film ends with Carol using all of her powers ( she was fighting with one hand behind her back until now), not being restricted (to think she has to control or hold back her powers...so she’s able to use them all...and be extremely powerful). And we see her blast off to space... taking the skrulls spaceship... far away... somewhere in the universe...

And then we...maybe...find out what happened to Fury’s eye. Not really.... cause the official report is made up. As Fury is typing on the computer... and we see him type something... important.. regarding the MCU... Coulson enters with a box of glass eyes...for him to choose (to replace the eye he “lost”, and reveals the official story... but Fury doesn’t really confirm or deny..so I am not completely sure if it’s not just a cover story, and the backstory to the eyepatch is the other one... the one with the cat that the scene implies to.

Pros:

The 1990s music & props - nostalgia! (for those of us who are over 25 years old)

The cat!/Goose! (because I like cats)

Nick/Carol “friendship”

The CGI (as with most current films, the VFX is good quality)

Cons:

Possibly...Messing up the MCU timeline (Tesseract, Ronan...etc) Though it can be explained in A4/future films via time travel and/or alternate universes. It’s not great, but they can make it believable & not a continuity error.... that it looks like at this point.

The marketing (I have issues with marketing in general. The hollywood sjw-marketing strategy that does no good - focusing on the cover of the book, not the storytelling & character (development)

People, who might like this film:

people, who grew up in the 1990s (kids, teen, youth). The 1990s nostalgia hits you

people, who like cats

people, who like (1990s) music being strongly incorporated into scenes

people, who want just a typical mindless blockbuster entertainment from their cinema experience

People, who most likely won’t like this film that much:*

comic book fans/people who are familiar with MCU & Marvel comics

people, who are not fans of continuity issues in film/TV

people, who prefer the film versions to honor the book/comic canon (not change names, characters, events, locations...etc)

* have issues with some things

AND I’LL FINISH WITH THE TWO END CREDIT MCU SPOILERY SCENES

1. MID-END-CREDIT SCENE

Avengers Headquarters. Captain, Black Widow, Bruce Banner & Rhodey in a room, looking at the device (Furys pager that Carol upgraded in the CM film to have a wider signal range...of at least a few galaxies), trying to figure out what it is & how it works #wedontevenknowwhatthisis

2. POST-CREDIT SCENE:

Nick Fury’s office. His name plate on the table. Goose, the cat jumps on the table. The cat looks like its about to “throw up a hairball”... and sure enough...the cat “spits out” something... the blue cube...aka Tesseract. The end.

ETA: REVIEWS BY OTHERS:

Brent Hankins @ SpoilerTV (this review describes the film the best, IMO)

#CAPTAIN MARVEL #SPOILER #captainmarvelspoilers #my review #movie review #film #movie #reviw #text post #WHAT IS GIVEN CAN BE TAKEN AWAY #IT WAS ORIGINALLY THE PROTECTOR INITIATIVE #THIS IS NOT A COMPLETE LIST #I DID NOT INCLUDE EVERYTHING...#AND I ALSO MOST DEFINITELY DID NOT CATCH EVERYTHING...#ESPECIALLY CAUSE WATCHING IN 3D IS DISTRACTING TO ME....HAVING THE OPPOSITE EFFECT OF WHAT IT SHOULD BE...SO I TEND TO MISS...STUFF

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seraphofretribution · 6 years ago

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Obliteration Side Story: Return to the Underground

During the other night, Angelo had sent out a secondary squad of his angels to recover Alphys’s research from the Hotland Labs back in the Underground. His original intention was to send his guests out to get it, to give them something to do and test their ability to go on further adventures, but given current circumstances...There’s no time.

Today the brave group of angels returns, the mission successful, despite injury and a missing comrade. Enclosed below is the official report by the leader.

Operation #275 Report

Mission: Data Retrieval -Recover valuable research from laboratory -Avoid confrontation with Amalgamates --If confronted, prioritize escape. If impossible, incapacitate. -Do NOT use strong magic anywhere within the Underground.

Squad Assigned: Rainbow Wolves

Units: Lavina (Commander, Red Archangel), Hannah (Combat Specialist, Orange Archangel), Daring (Combat Specialist, Cyan Archangel), Comfort (Medic, Green Archangel), Mihr (Stealth Specialist, Yellow Archangel), Telantes (Support, Blue Archangel), Scholar (Intelligence Officer, Purple Archangel), Voice #868

Mission Status: Successful

Casualties: 6 wounded, 1 MIA.

Detailed Report:

This was supposed to be an easy mission. Go in, get the research, get back out. simple. The Seraph even said that the Amalgamates should have been fed today, docile! But when we arrived and noticed the civilian paid to stay posted and keep them fed was missing, I knew something was very wrong.

Really, I should have had us turn back, but we pressed onwards to avoid disappointing our Seraph, told the Voice to record everything as per protocol. I even took it upon myself to add a new objective, find out what happened to find whatever his name was. Charles or something, some cat monster with a weird face.

That came later, though. We barely exited the throne room when we were beset by several of the Amalgamates, angry and out of control. I thought they were just hungry, but I think they could sense whatever is happening up above or something and that was driving them really wild.

Luckily, we managed to break past them without harm to either side, Seraph knows they don’t deserve any more pain then they have already. I can’t imagine what it could be like, to get yourself mashed together with other people like that. One other, maybe, but more than that? I know I would start losing my mind if I had Daring and Telantes stuck in my head. And compound that to what happened years ago?

I’m getting off track. Anyway, we ran then, just throwing warning shots with our magic, trying to keep it weak as to not blow ourselves up. We should figure out how to stabilize the rampant magic down there once this all blows over, it’s really a time bomb waiting to go off.

But that also wasn’t the only problem, turns out the place is starting to experience cave-ins without anyone to upkeep the supports or walls or whatever the hell they did down here to keep everyone from getting crushed under tons of rock. As we were running along one of the balconies that overlook the actual city part of New Home, the ceiling collapsed, dropping a bunch of rocks on the path and breaking it apart. Most of us fell down into the city below.

I say most because, during the commotion, it seems like Comfort get separated, can only guess they managed to stay up on the balcony and just kept running. They were always a bit cowardly. We needed them too, Hannah, Daring, and Scholar broke their wings on the way down and none of us were willing to leave them on their own with no way to fly. But I thought if we just pressed on and found another way back around we would just meet back up.

We never saw Comfort again.

The mission proceeded onward without much incident, we managed to get to Snowdin by riding in a boat along a river that seemed to span the entire Underground, the waterways were confusing as hell so it was the best we could do, the boat sprung a leak and sank as we arrived so we couldn’t try again.

We proceeded onward, Mihr helped us avoid the majority of any further Amalgamate encounters though we ran into one while we were exiting Snowdin. Unlike all others, this one was completely docile, from the way it kept saying a name over and over, can only guess it was just too consumed by grief to care about anything else. Telantes, in a moment of pity, tried to cheer them (her?) up by patting them on the back.

Turns out, our bodies of clay of other materials don’t react well to whatever is going on with Amalgamate bodies. Don’t know what it is, Scholar tried to figure it out as best he could but only had theories about chemicals or something. I didn’t listen. But end result is that Telantes is missing an entire arm. He claims it didn’t hurt but I could see him gritting his teeth and tearing up.

Dumbass.

Continuing on, not much more of incident happened. We made it all the way to the Hotland Labs, surprisingly completely empty of Amalgamate presence, and scoured every inch of the upstairs and the downstairs True Lab. We took all the research we could carry, files to a couple flash drives of whatever data was in the computers. Daring suggested just ripping out the hardrives and taking those but we ignored them.

We also found the missing civilian, hiding out in one of the closets, covered in chisp crumbs. According to him, the Amalgamates suddenly went wild the other day, chased him here, hes been hiding for days while subsisting on chisps and the occasional dry ramen packet. He requests to be fired.

With our mission complete, we made the mad dash back to the entrance, stealth difficult while carrying our massive load. Not the research, I mean Jim or whatever his name is.

We tried to detour to look for Comfort, but with Mark attracting every Amalgamate in a 100 mile radius, we had to make the difficult choice of leaving our friend behind. We kept going, having to slowly bring our flightless across the broken gap in the path, the wild Amalgamates catching up just as the last one of us got across.

We managed to keep ahead up to the Barrier room, but I tripped and fell, shouting for everyone to keep running. Tried to turn and get up, hold them off for just a second, but one of them pounced and got my leg before I could do anything.

Crawled back, to get away, though I was ready to die to keep my comrades safe. I could barely hear them arguing whether to come get me, looking up at the agent of my demise.

I could see it in their eyes, or whatever counts as an eye. Pain, suffering, grief, anger. I felt no hatred towards them in that moment, despite the fact that there were more than likely about to kill me, they were just people driven to sheer madness by so many things, just lashing out, unable to control themselves.

I was prepared to die then, I really should have.

But out from nowhere, maybe they climbed to the ceiling and just fell now that I think back, another Amalgamate showed up, dropping on top of the wild one. This one was canine-ish? They’re all very difficult to describe. But the canine one knocked they away from me, barking and roaring at all the rest.

Don’t need a degree to know it was trying to protect me. I don’t know why it was, though I felt a strange sort of connection to them. But I had no time to think about it.

I crawled onto my remaining three limbs and limped out as fast as possible, joining back up with everyone.

We wasted no time, and cleared out as quickly as possible, returning on foot back to the Tower. Most of the minor injuries are already healed, I and Telantes are awaiting repair to our bodies or a full transplant.

The Voice that came with us carries the full audio log in case any detail needs confirmation.

I hope this research was worth it, father.

-Lavina Commander of the Rainbow Wolves

#Event: Obliteration

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