#anyway that's my tin foil hat thought of the week | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

acourtofantumbra · 2 years ago

Text

Where Have All the Dragons Gone?

☆ All SJM spoilers: ACOTAR, CC, and TOG ☆

It's been quite a while since I put my SJM tin foil hat... I've got the attention span of a squirrel and moved onto other things.

Anyway, over the past 3-4 months I decided to start my first true re-read of all of SJM's books while a bunch of my friends were beginning the series for the first time. This week I finished Crescent City (just in time for my insanely beautiful Fairyloot editions to show up 1/2 a year later) and plan on moving onto TOG this week... but I have so, so, so many scenes that have been bothering me that I fully skimmed over in my first reads.

This scene above from HOSAB, chapter 46, with Ariadne has been fueling my intrusive thoughts lately. On my first read of CC2 I was so distracted by that insane ending that I could probably sum up my thoughts about Ariadne as "Well, that felt like a waste of time?" But upon further review (and now having read TOG in its entirety as well)... I'm starting to feel like she might be one of the most easter egg laden chess pieces placed on the board.

Per usual, I don't really have answers as much as I have some glaring parallels that feel important... But ultimately I think our "long, lost dragons" are not so lost and have been waiting patiently to enter the chat.

Ok, let's go back to the (extended) scene from HOSAB:

“Exactly,” Flynn said, as if the Fae lord weren’t taunting a dragon. A fucking dragon. A Lower, yes, but … fuck. They weren’t true shifters, switching between humanoid and animal bodies at will. They were more like the mer, if anything. There was a biological or magical difference to explain it—Ithan vaguely remembered learning about it in school, though he’d promptly forgotten the details. It didn’t matter now, he supposed. The dragon could navigate two forms. He’d be a fool to underestimate her in this one. The dragon stared Flynn down. He gave her a charming smile back. Her chin lifted. “Ariadne.” Flynn arched a brow. “A dragon named Ariadne?” “I suppose you have a better name for me?” she shot back. “Skull-Crusher, Winged Doom, Light-Eater.” Flynn ticked them off on his fingers. She snorted, and the hint of amusement had Ithan realizing that the dragon was … beautiful. Utterly lethal and defiant, but—well, damn. From the gleam in Flynn’s eyes, Ithan could tell the Fae lord was thinking the same. Ariadne said, “Such names are for the old ones who dwell in their mountain caves and sleep the long slumber of true immortals.” “But you’re not one of them?” Ithan asked. “My kin are more … modern.” Her gaze sharpened on Flynn. “Hence Ariadne.” Flynn winked. She scowled. “How did all of you”—Declan cut in, motioning to Ariadne, her body similar to that of a Fae female’s—“fit into that tiny ring?” “We were bespelled by the Astronomer,” Sasa whispered. “He’s an ancient sorcerer—don’t let him deceive you with that feeble act. He bought us all, and shoved us into those rings to light the way when he descends into Hel. Though Ariadne got put into the ring by …” She trailed off when the dragon cut her a scathing, warning look. HOSAB, Chapter 46

It needs to be said, the difference between magical beings feels like it has only barely scraped the surface at the end of CC2 and I have not one clue how Sarah is finally gonna break all that shit down for us. But during my reread I finally got really into the Mer plot for this exact reason as well... clearly quite a bit going on there. Also... with the sprites magic not being first light-based??? Ok, back to the task at hand.

So Ariadne is identified as a dragon, which according to the front of both Crescent City books, is part of the House of Flame and Shadow. Perhaps our most controversial collection of beings in the CC world, our Slytherin house lol.

But, according to Ariadne herself, there is a difference between the kind of dragon shifter she is and a dragon that is a true immortal... and allegedly sleeping in a cave somewhere?! —> remember this. Ok, so what is a true immortal? Aren't the Vanir and fae immortal for the most part?

Well, we've been getting corrections through SJM's series that there is a difference between long-lived, which is what the fae and Vanir are, and true immortals.

Particularly in the ACOTAR series we've had Death Gods explain the difference between their true immortality aka "[they have] no death awaiting them." And suspiciously, the Bone Carver claims that his sister, the Weaver, is not only truly immortal, but she's found a way to "eat life itself" so that's remains youthful. Interesting... can think of around 6 folks allegedly able to do that in Crescent City, but I digress.

So true dragons — the ancient ones — seem to be true immortals as well. There is "no death waiting for them." Interesting considering we've had references in both TOG and CC that dragons are either no more or MIA. We actually get references at least once to dragons in each of SJM's series. Let's dig in a little more.

So TOG is our series with the most obvious inclusion of, at the very least, dragon-like creatures (we love you Abraxos) aka Wyverns. Wyverns we learn were made by the king - in a process Manon claims to not know much about... but happens in a mountain. But let's not skip ahead.

We've known since early on in TOG that dragons once existed in Erilea, but wyverns remain and are even the symbol represented on Ardalan's royal seal.

Celeana is surprised to see dragons depicted on the doors to the palace's library - because of course... libraries are at this point one of our most consistent, important, and often lost/destroyed, settings/plot points across worlds. Followed up with her feeling "a shot of lightning" about this dragon-adorned library... my spidey senses are tingling, how about you? Have dragons been associated with lightning in mythology? Yes. Yes they have.

First, what is the difference between a dragon and a wyvern? In fact lets take a look at all the varietals, some of the names might be familiar.

Who could forget the Wyrm from ACOTAR? Characters (amren) have been referred to as drakes, and I think we can argue that we've encountered a couple others from this list (perhaps sent from Hel?).

Anyway, what happened to the dragons of Erilea? It seems that they were defeated during a conflict and people largely believe them to be gone and whole societies (the mycenians) lost hope and fight once the last dragon disappeared/was killed.

But it's Maeve who gives us the clearest picture as to what happened to the dragons.

Glass is obviously significant in Throne of Glass and brings new meaning to the now destroyed glass castle, which I now assume was made from dragon glass.

But Maeve having "ensured" dragons were eradicated is particularly interesting knowing what we know about dragon fire from CC2 (we'll get to that). What this "ancient and bloody conflict" was we can guess at, but much like ACOTAR and CC we've got a wealth of wars to choose some and some we have more information about than others... anyone else suspicious about the sprite rebellion?

But Maeve mentioning Aelin's own "fire-breathing heritage" gave me pause... is she suggesting Aelin has any relation to dragons? Especially when Aelin starts to feel pangs of empathy for reasons she can't explain (a lightbulb moment in any SJM book - she uses this easter egg tactic a lot), her overwhelming sorrow while she's actively being tortured feels notable. Especially mentioning dragons "would never again been on this earth." Perhaps they can be found on another?

But Maeve destroying dragons is important because Bryce learns from Jesiba in CC2 that the strongest weapon against a Prince of Hel is in fact... dragon fire. Seems like an important tool to have in the arsenal... and why mention it if there are no dragons left anyway?

It contained an analysis of dragon fire, dating back five thousand years. It was in a language Bryce didn’t know, but a translation had been included. Jesiba had scribbled Good luck at the top.

Well, now she knew why the Astronomer kept Ariadne in a ring. Not for light—but for protection.

Among its many uses, the ancient scholar had written, dragon fire is one of the few substances proven to harm the Princes of Hel. It can burn even the Prince of the Pit’s dark hide.

Yeah, Ariadne was valuable. And if Apollion was readying his armies … Bryce had no intention of letting the dragon return to the Astronomer’s clutches. HOSAB, Chapter 50

Granted, this alludes to there being a few substances that can harm a Prince of Hel, but with the introduction of Ariadne and "the ancient ones"... dragons have just shot to the top of my personal list of "things that are probably coming for us in CC3 and beyond" especially in this fight against the Big Bads.

Granted we learned when Bryce breaks into the Dawn room at the Crystal Palace (dragon glass too???) that the warring factions of Hel united to oust the Asteri and Thanatos is only now saying he doesn't give an f about his brothers' plans... maybe we don't want to roast Apollion, but just some of his brothers? And maybe dragon fire has some ability to take down an Asteri too? Who can say?

But that brings me back to Ariadne's conversation about the difference between the kind of dragon she is an the kind of dragons that have allegedly gone missing... she doesn't say they're gone.

“Skull-Crusher, Winged Doom, Light-Eater.” Flynn ticked them off on his fingers. She snorted, and the hint of amusement had Ithan realizing that the dragon was … beautiful. Utterly lethal and defiant, but—well, damn. From the gleam in Flynn’s eyes, Ithan could tell the Fae lord was thinking the same. Ariadne said, “Such names are for the old ones who dwell in their mountain caves and sleep the long slumber of true immortals.”

Hm... sleeping in mountain caves? We've definitely had some not super subtle hints about some giant presence slumbering below mountains — in both TOG and ACOTAR. And while TOG has clearly mentioned their missing dragons... ACOTAR explicitly references dragons one time.

When Lucien gives Feyre a cloak UTM she notes Amarantha's coat of arms isn't just a dragon... but a sleeping dragon. Can I fully say I understand all the implications here? Certainly not. But it was an "oh damn" moment when I saw it. Especially considering how convinced I am that Hybern was possessed by a Valg. And if Maeve (Valg) and Princes of Hel (??) fear dragon fire... that... is an intriguing parallel.

But ok, so we've got a coat of arms with a sleeping dragon... what else has been referenced as a massive sleeping force?

Cassian wondered if his brother had ever told her what dwelled in these mountains. Most had been slain by the Illyrians, or sent fleeing to those Steppes. But the most cunning of them, the most ancient … they had found ways to hide. To emerge on moonless nights to feed. Even five centuries of training couldn’t stop the chill that skittered down his spine as Cassian surveyed the empty, quiet mountains below and wondered what slept beneath the snow...

Cassian soared toward it, unable to resist Ramiel’s ancient summons. Different—the mountain was so different from the barren, terrible presence of the lone peak in the center of Prythian. Ramiel had always felt alive, somehow. Awake and watchful....

Ramiel rose higher still, a shard of stone piercing the gray sky. Beautiful and lonely. Eternal and ageless. ACOFAS, Chapter 3

Now I'm not saying I'm 100% confident a dragon is sleeping beneath Ramiel... but I am saying I feel confident we've gotta find dragons sleeping somewhere and the planet that's retained the most magic seems like an obvious first place to look.

I also wonder how much connection there could be between lost ancient dragons and the rare thunderbird line — a CC plot point that has been breaking my brain even more the second time around (all thoughts, no real conclusions). But with the inclusion of lightning + dragons (Aelin at the library, the Great Rite, etc.)... thunderbirds are looking even more suspicious in my eyes. Even more suspicious is our dear Hunt Athalar... lightning wielder of our dreams...

Her teeth shone, her canines long enough to shred flesh. “Did Bryce Quinlan tell you what occurred when she stood in this chamber twelve years ago?” His blood turned to ice. “That’s Quinlan’s business.” That smile didn’t falter. “You do not wish to know what I saw for her, either?” “No.” He spoke from his heart. “It’s her business,” he repeated. His lightning rose within him, rallying against a foe he could not slay. The Oracle blinked, a slow bob of those thick lashes. “You remind me of that which was lost long ago,” she said quietly. “I had not realized it might ever appear again.” HOEAB, Chapter 33

That's all I got for now... stay tuned for a potential descent into madness about Thunderbirds. We'll see.

33 notes · View notes

oldguy56-world · 2 years ago

Text

St. Elmo's Fire

Time to get elemental. Fire is a major part of our lives and a foundation of the growth of civilization. (Wow. That statement impressed me and I came up with it.)

Let us go back to the beginning. The history books tell us that it was first discovered (not invented) by a caveman named Gronk who interestingly enough was an ancestor of the famous football player. Gronk was fortunate or unfortunate enough to be standing beside a very dry tree when lightning hit it. Instant flames. Eye witnesses to this event also claim that moments later he was the first humanoid to utter the 'f' word.

He returned to his tribe completely hairless and his legs and arms badly singed. This caused a problem as the smell of the burning flesh made his tribesmen salivate so they killed him and ate him, inventing the first family barbecue. You have to remember these were tougher times.

Anyway they tried to duplicate his feat and this lead to the invention of tin-foil by the famous Homo-erectus inventor Alkan who made hats for everyone. Soon they had it down pat and the rest is history.

I could write volumes about the wonders created by fire but instead I will highlight just a few.

(Side note that is only partially related. Did you know that the word fire is the last word a lot of executed prisoners hear?)

Emperor Nero wanted to gentrify some of the slums of ancient Rome so he had a few of the boys go to set fire to the area. Unfortunately they got into the wine a little heavy and the result is well documented. That taught Nero not to fiddle with the wrong element. (sorry about that)

Flash forward to Chicago. Mrs. O'Leary was out in her barn with her next door neighbor where she talked about having the neighborhood over for steaks that weekend. Her cow looked around and saw she was the only one left so she had to take action. She kicked over a lantern setting the barn and most of Chicago on fire. Witnesses heard the cow as she galloped away (I am being generous here. Have you ever seen a cow run? Hardly a gallop) 'Take that bitch. Eat more pork.'

Fire lead directly to the invention of marshmallows. My wife is appreciative as she uses the little ones in her hot chocolate. Only thing they are good for as they do not fit on a stick.

Many cultures have fire walkers as a sign of courage. This caused the invention of Skechers for those brave idiots.

Men want to be dragons because they cook their meat in seconds. When a man's gotta eat patience does not exist.

The phrase 'You're fired' comes from the Aztecs who, when they decided someone was not pulling their weight around the village threw them into a volcano. True story.

THOUGHT OF THE WEEK: If we do not respect the power of nature we will be consumed by it.

3 notes · View notes

dottie-wan-kenobi · 5 years ago

Photo

DOTTIE’S BATFAM FIC RECS

hi!! so, no one asked for this but,,, I wanted to make one anyway! I really love the batfam a lot and I see a lot of ppl in the fandom wishing it was easier to find good fics. this is by no means all of them but they are some of my faves, generally not too fanon-y! all fics are gen/family fluff with little to no ships (which are not bat/cest).

feel free to message/ask me about triggers if you’re unsure!! and lmk if I forgot to tag anyone ❤️

---

Homecoming by Ionaperidot / @iowriteswords on tumblr

https://archiveofourown.org/works/10966704/chapters/24414906

Summary: “Your son’s grave. It’s been disturbed.” In which people actually notice when Jason breaks out of his grave, and Bruce finds him before Talia does.

My thoughts: Bruce’s voice in this is seriously perfect, plus Dick, Jason, and Tim are great as well!! This fic honestly helps inform me of my Tim characterization!

---

The Wound Begins To Bleed by audreycritter / @audreycritter on tumblr

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13295661

Summary: Now that Tim’s moved back to the manor, he just wants a few afternoons a week without Damian around. Funny how getting that was the catalyst for him becoming a better big brother.

My Thoughts: it makes me emotional okay it GETS me right in my HEART!!! both Dami and Tim are so so so good I can’t rec this enough

---

just hold a smile by RecklessWriter

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22777705

Summary: That's the thing about smiles, Dick thinks. If you flash the right one, no one knows there's something more going on inside. Five times Dick faked a smile and one time someone saw through it.

My Thoughts: Dick & others, including Tim and Cass. Dick is really good at hiding his feelings from others, and I love how in this fic, a lot of times, he’s hiding them to “protect” whoever it is

(more under the cut!)

life, if well lived by CaptainOzone

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18378512

Summary: Jason wakes up from a time-travel mishap to find Thomas and Martha Wayne hovering over him. Just another day in the life, right? ...Not quite.

My Thoughts: this one had me crying like a baby!!! the characterization is great and I love CO’s Thomas and Martha

---

one shot, two shots in the night by discowing / @dykewing on tumblr, @/wlwdiscowing on twitter

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18871864/chapters/44792710

Summary: The New York Times ✓ @nytimes · 4h

“A Shot in the Dark” remains on our bestseller list for the fourth week in a row! Read our review of @brucewayne’s tell-all memoir here: nyti.ms/3Fs9k2E

My Thoughts: TALK ABT MAKING ME CRY. this gets me every time, and it’s absolutely worth ALL of the rereads. such a great Bruce.

---

The View From Jade by lowflyingfruit

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11329791/chapters/25359972

Summary: Being transported to the past is not the sort of thing one normally expects. But this having happened, and with no easy way back, Jason's determined to make the most of it. Though the Bat still stalks Gotham's streets, the city's crime is run by the mobs instead of the rogues. There's no Joker yet. There's no Robin. Maybe there shouldn't be.

My Thoughts: Jason & Dick, and also Bruce somewhere in there too. this is SO! GOOD! I absolutely love Jason’s voice, and Dick is so in character. plus Bruce and Alfred are awesome as well!!!

---

The Birds Who Smile by Raberba girl / @raberbagirl on tumblr

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12972324/chapters/29656290

Summary: "Dark Nights: Metal" AU where Bruce adopts three of the Robins who once belonged to the Batman Who Laughs.

My Thoughts: I think this was the first fic that introduced me to Duke, actually! and while there are a LOT of characters involved, they’re all pretty great and realistic. they have their moments to shine and it’s,,, *chef’s kiss*

---

The Thing about Apples and Trees by Cdelphiki / @cdelphiki on tumblr

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22192747

Summary: When Jason agreed to let Bruce adopt him, he thought that meant Jason felt happy and safe in Bruce's home. But when Jason's nightmares only increased, and his panic attacks and meltdowns started happening more often, Bruce was at a complete loss for what to do. But then, Jason finally opened up to him, and he was able to quell some of Jason's worse fears. Perhaps a midnight chat and a few hugs wouldn't fix everything, but it was a step in the right direction.

My Thoughts: this is part of a series but might be okay to read on it’s own? tho really I suggest the entire series, it’s amazing. but this fic specifically has great kid Jason characterization (and also made me cry, I think!)

---

Kitten by lurkinglurkerwholurks / @lurkinglurkerwholurks on tumblr

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18194294

Summary: Bruce opened his mouth, prepared to give the unemotional, no-nonsense explanation he had cobbled together between his walk to the car and now. Instead, his mouth went dry and nothing came out.

“Bruce?”

Bruce was saved from answering by the thin cry that cut through the silence. He winced, then reached back with one hand to shush the dimpled, kicking legs.

“Bruce, tell me I did not just hear what I thought I heard.”

My Thoughts: so so so cute! plus the gangs all here!!!

---

Yes Ma’am by lurkinglurkerwholurks

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22004695

Summary: Jason had shuffled into the bedroom and had just finished pulling his shirt over his head when he paused, arms still trapped in the fabric. A pair of eyes glowed at him from the bed, reflecting the dim light from the hall.

My Thoughts: I also have to include this one bc it was a gift to me, and it’s so cute & angsty & just dkjsfsdjkhfksjah I love it so much

---

The D-Word by AutumnHobbit / @autumnhobbit on tumblr

https://archiveofourown.org/works/9597686

Summary: "See, Tim?" Jason called over his shoulder sardonically. "Dad agrees with me."

He turned back to his food for a moment before the thought suddenly occurred to him that the Cave had gone near silent. He cautiously glanced back at the others. Alfred was still working away at stitching Tim up. Tim looked a little pale and sweaty, but he was glancing over at Jason with a look that was a mixture of concern and confusion. Bruce was standing stock-still, seemingly staring off into space.

My Thoughts: I constantly reread this when I want funny and then heart breaking Jason & Bruce feels. I always know what’s coming and it STILL GETS ME

---

baby wonder by drakefeathers / @drakefeathers on tumblr

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1887807

Summary: (baby!damian AU) Bruce dies, Dick becomes Batman. But the Damian that Talia leaves in his care isn’t a ten-year-old warrior, he’s a ten-month-old baby.

My Thoughts: oh my goddd this is so good, it hurts but it’s SO CUTE at the same time??? ugh dskjfhkjsadhf

---

a hat fashioned from tin foil by discowing

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14356020

Summary: nightwang @karakurachou – 8 hours ago

jason todd is alive and faked his death so he could become robin: a conspiracy theory thread

Batfam conspiracy theories meet social media.

My Thoughts: !!!!!!! so good!!!! seriously one of the best social media fics I’ve ever read.

---

Bet Your Bottom Dollar by jerseydevious / @jerseydevious on tumblr and twitter

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17971160/chapters/42447017

Summary: Dick's been having kind of a hard time, recently. When it boils over, Bruce is there for him.

My Thoughts: I reread this one a LOT when I need Dick & Bruce feels

---

Metanoia by AlannaOfRoses / @alannaofroses on tumblr

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21943249

Summary: Jason's bleeding out, Dick's overtired, and a half-serious offer turns into their new normal. Sometimes you just need somebody else around.

My Thoughts: this one was also a gift to me!! it’s got amazing brotherly bonding and it made me laugh a LOT

---

a hundred miles through the desert by acrobats

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18197330/chapters/43045388

Summary: Finding himself nearly three decades into the past hadn't been part of Jason's plans for the day, but he could manage. Having no idea how he got there, no clear path home and a recently orphaned Bruce Wayne determined to drag Jason into his search for his parents' killer - that might be a little more complicated.

My Thoughts: ughhh this is such good Jason content (and such amazing Jason voice, too) I adore it

---

oh, where do I begin? by LazuliQuetzal / @lazuliquetzal on tumblr

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21988693

Summary: “No, no, nothing’s wrong,” Jason says. “We’re a-okay. Just peachy. Good times.”

“Oh,” Duke says, lamely, working himself out of crisis mode. There’s an awkward silence for a moment before he speaks up again. “Why did you call?”

“Right, right," Jason mumbles, which seemed a little out of character to Duke. His sort-of wayward brother was generally intimidating, even when he wasn't trying to be. "Uh, Dick said that you had a guinea pig when you were younger. How do you take care of a guinea pig?”

_____

AKA, not-exactly accidental guinea pig acquisition

My Thoughts: this was ALSO a gift to me but it’s so funny and sweet and there’s amazing Duke & Jason bonding so I absolutely must rec it

---

Latchkey by goldkirk / @goldkirk on tumblr

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21672928/chapters/51685639

Summary: or, How Tim Drake Found A Family, Became A Photojournalist, Learned To Love Coffee, and Grew Up, not necessarily in that order.

Tim Drake is thirteen, runs the famous BatWatch blog that has spiraled hilariously out of control, has absentee parents that suit his purposes just fine, is training himself to run the streets at night, and is doing absolutely peachy, thank you.

Alfred and Jason disagree, and get Dick and Bruce involved in figuring out their weird nextdoor neighbor kid’s life. Everything goes uphill from there.

My Thoughts: this is SO GOOOOD the Tim feels are amazing!!! the family interactions!!! everything! sdkjfhsjdfhksdhfajh

---

Blood in the Water by MishaBerry

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12734052/chapters/29037474

Summary: We all do stupid things when we are lonely, and in faraway lands, we hardly expect the consequences to follow us. Bruce certainly never thought twice about an American woman in Jaipur after one night with her. He hardly expected to see her ever again.

The universe, on the other hand, had different ideas, and the tides of time and chance brought Tim Drake to Bruce's life over and over again.

My Thoughts: this one is more AU than a lot of the others on here but it’s a lot of fun!! it has Tim & Damian & Jason feels, plus the rest of the family on a smaller scale

---

so these are just SOME, and honestly you should go and check out other works done by all of these authors!! also would like to suggest reading the fics of @renecdote , @caramelmachete , @redtruthed , @rredarrow , and @schweeeppess !!!

#batfam fic recs #batfam #batfamily #dc #fic rec #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #cass cain #duke thomas #steph brown #damian wayne #i do love all of these fics but im thinking there should be more w cass and duke #both in general and on the list #i'll just have to make another one w more of their fics dkjfkdjsafh

579 notes · View notes

collecting-stories · 4 years ago

Text

The Festival - ep. 06 - Georgia

Summary: The Festival of Lights is happening in King County and Daryl makes a surprise stop at your booth.

A/N: They’re too cute.

Georgia Masterlist | The Walking Dead Masterlist

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

“I saw Tiny at the gazebo today with Axel; hanging lights.” You mentioned, sitting in the carport while Daryl worked on the Jeep. He’d spent the other day, after dropping you off at the diner, putting up temporary plastic walls to seal out the cold in the carport. You couldn’t help being grateful as you sat in front of the space heater.

“Deanna asked Dale if we’d put in some overtime decoratin’ for that damn festival they’re putting on.” Daryl replied. He wasn’t thrilled to be stuck doing menial crap around the town center like stringing lights and hanging stupid snowflake decorations for something that was, in his mind, unnecessary.

“Are you going?” You asked. You’d spent two hours on the phone yesterday after church discussing outfit options with Maggie, whose initial grounding was being slowly lifted. Phone calls had been reinstated, at least to you.

“Are ya joking?” Daryl looked like he was sure you were joking.

“No. I’m going. It’s a lot of fun.”

“It ain’t that fun. Think yer just remembering it better than it is.”

“I am not. There’s hot chocolate and they get that band to play-”

“A bunch a old men in stupid get-ups ain’t a band.” He replied.

“So sour.” You teased, laughing at him when he glared at you. “Well, if you do go, I’ll be there.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You bit your lip to stop from smiling as he went back to working on the car.

He hadn’t flat out rejected the idea of going there and seeing you. He had been in to the diner a few times with Axel or T-Dog but outside of the carport you usually couldn’t get him to acknowledge your existence. You knew that your mom would have a heart attack if she found out that you were entertaining any thoughts of him at all so talking to each other and seeing each other had to be done carefully, but you couldn’t help the feeling in your stomach at the thought of him showing up at the Lights Festival to see you.

“I’m thinking yer car’ll be fixed by the new year.” Daryl mentioned.

Oh. “Oh.” You stopped taking notes, looking up at him again, “okay.”

“Course ya still owe me the third payment.”

“I told you, Friday!” When you caught sight of his smile you laughed, “Friday.”

“Ya said that last Friday.”

“I did not! So mean to me.”

“I’m mean ta ya? I been chaperoning ya around town at least once a week. Working on yer car...entertaining ya. Lost countless clothes ta ya.” He replied, listing off things that he’d done for you.

“Oh my god, one jacket which you said I could keep. You said the sweatpants and shirt didn’t fit anymore.” You pointed out.

“Didn’t mean ya could keep it forever.”

“I will bring it back to you.”

He looked over, grinning, “nah.”

You smiled, “come to the festival on Saturday and I’ll give you the third payment.”

“Thought ya said Friday?”

“Yeah but if you come on Saturday you can see me at the festival, I’m helping with the church booth. Annette asked me.”

“Tempting.”

Friday was a half-day, most of the kids having been roped into helping to finish setting up for the Lights Festival. You and Tara had used the opportunity to walk to 7-11 before your shift at the diner. Both of you were sitting on the handicap ramp, eating convenience store hot dogs and a shared bag of family size Doritos.

“How late do you work tonight?” Tara asked. She had been trying to coordinate everyone getting together for a few weeks now but with most of you working it was hard to find the time. “Glenn said he’s got off and so does Rosita. I think Eugene only works until like nine.”

“I get off at ten.” You replied, “I can-” you cut yourself off when you noticed the truck that was pulling up to a gas pump. You scooted over so that you were partially blocked by Tara and watched Daryl get out of the truck.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

Tara looked over and saw the truck, smiling, “oh my god. Maggie wasn’t lying, you are obsessed.” She laughed.

“I’m not. We’re just like...I don’t know. He’s cool and I like hanging out with him.”

“And you think he’s hot.”

“What, is that a crime?”

Tara just shook her head as she continued to eat, “so go say hi.”

“What? No way. I don’t wanna bother him.”

“Hey! Dixon!” Tara shouted, waving her hand for him to come over.

Daryl frowned, not recognizing the girl that was waving at him. As he got closer, he saw you sitting there across from her. You gave him a wave and smiled, “sorry.”

“Ya ain’t cause yer smiling.”

“So how’s it going?” Tara asked, grinning as she looked between the two of you.

“Fine.”

Tara balled up her hotdog foil and grabbed her empty soda, “I’m gonna throw this away, I’ll be right back.” She stood up and walked over to the trash can at the other end of the store, taking her time to leave the two of you alone for a little while.

“Have you changed your mind about the festival?” You asked, standing up and leaning against the railing. Daryl stood on the other side, hands gripping the railing on either side of yours.

“I told ya no.” He replied, grinning and biting at his thumb.

“Okay-”

“I’ll be around Saturday afternoon though, work on the Jeep if ya wanna stop by.”

“I’ll try, I’ve gotta be at the sign up table early.” You said, smiling.

Despite swearing that he would not be at the festival on Saturday night Daryl found himself there anyway. You were exactly where you said you’d be, sitting at the booth for the church with Maggie Greene, bundled in his jacket with a hat and a scarf to keep you warm. People milled around the area, stopping at tables and getting food. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing here; admitting that he was here to see you was a little more than he was capable of handling at the moment.

He was here now though.

“Here, keep ya warm.”

You jumped at the sound of someone beside you, turning to see Daryl standing there with a paper coffee cup. You smiled, tucking your chin into your scarf. “Thank you,” you took the cup, taking a sip of the hot chocolate that he’d bought three tables over.

“That looks good,” Maggie announced, “think I’m gonna grab myself a cup.” She got up, moving around the table. When she was passed Daryl she looked back at you, winking.

“I thought you said you didn’t do stupid town festivals?” You asked.

“Changed my mind.” He shrugged, looking around at the people walking around. “Actually got something done on yer car today, since ya weren’t there talking my ear off.”

“I do not talk your ear off.” You laughed, “I bet you missed me.”

He shook his head but you saw him smiling. “How’s Maggie doing? With her boyfriend-”

“Glenn?” You asked.

“Yeah,” he nodded. He didn’t necessarily care about Maggie or her boyfriend but he’d heard you mention it enough times to know that you cared.

“He’s here somewhere, they’re supposed to be meeting up. She didn’t tell me anything so I can have plausible deniability if anyone asks.” You replied.

“Plenty a times I could’ve used that.” He commented.

You laughed and took a sip of your hot chocolate, appreciative of the feeling of warmth that spread through you. It was cold out, even for Georgia, too cold for a town gathering but the winter fest was a big deal in King County. This was the first year Daryl could remember going.

“Jacket looks familiar.” He chewed at his lower lip as he watched you, admiring the way you looked with his jacket on.

“I know I said I’d return it but it’s warm.” You replied, pulling it tighter around you. “Still smells a little like cigarettes though,” you scrunched your nose up and he rolled his eyes.

“Can’t imagine why.” He said, fishing a cigarette out of the pack that was in his pocket and lighting it. “I ain’t gonna get struck down for smoking at the church table am I?”

“No.” You replied, “if you make a donation to the church?” You grabbed the empty coffee tin that was sitting there for donations and shook it. Daryl scoffed but he pulled two dollars out of his pocket and dropped them in. “Thank you, now we can go save a bunch of perfectly happy people in Mexico from eternal damnation and ruin their lives.” You grinned and Daryl shook his head at you again.

“Yer something else.”

“Something good?”

“I shouldn’t hang around too long.” He replied, looking back around as if people might realize that he’s there, ‘corrupting’ a sweet church girl like yourself.

“Wish you would.” You replied, feeling bold as his cheeks tinted redder than before. You smiled, watching him run a hand through his hair.

“I’ll see ya tomorrow.” Daryl said, smoke seeping out as he spoke. Your eyes widened just slightly as you watched the smoke dance in the air.

“Okay.”

He nodded as if in confirmation, taking a step away from the table before turning around and heading back through the crowd. You leaned back in your chair, pulling his jacket closer and smiling as you watched his retreating back.

taglist: @gigilame @sabertooth-potato @enrapturedbythemoon @cbarter @onemorebeautifulnightmare @hopesxxhigh @coffeebooksandfandom @jodiereedus22 @tehfabbooty @thecaptainsgingersnap @of-storms-and-sadness @twdeadfanfic @alwaysadreamingoptimist @mainokutan @sabertooth-potato @qrangr @bucky-barnes-babies @ly--canthrope @daryldixonandfrogs @jaycc7983 @easnuppa @imaginecrushes @tonystarkismyboy @watchmeaspire @harpersmariano @cathwritestragediesnotsins @siren-queen03

162 notes · View notes

popcorn-hero · 4 years ago

Text

307 My Thoughts

If Shindo was a second year last time we saw him and is a third year now,

Then Midoriya left a year ago?.....or maybe a few months (I’m not sure how semesters roll over in Japan)

Meh, I hate to compare this to Naruto, but we had a few months after the first half of the story ended before part two was released. Thats what made Narutos return feel much more epic because time in real life had passed

Sir we just saw you last week

Versus something like this

When his comeback felt so special

Anyways this chapter was pretty lackluster, but I must always commend Horikoshi on his panels

This scene was drawn so amazingly and this is one of the things that draws me to the story is his art style. (and the anime doesn’t do the manga justice which is why I dont watch it)

Anywhoo, I think another topic of debate in the future of this story is law and order

The citizens are taking it upon themselves for protection and that goes against the order that the HPSC put in place to begin with.

This puts the current heroes and students in a situation where they are not only up against the escaped prisoners, opportunistic criminals, but now the very people the sworn to protect- And I don’t think they have the numbers to be dealing with all that

And because this is where we are in the story, my tin foiled hat is tingling at the title of the 3rd movie we are getting

WORLD Heroes Mission

Now I’m speculating that they will be deployed in France because the previous promotion picture said “he would meet the three musketeers”

That could be in references to a villain meeting the three of them (dekubakushoto) or Midoriya meeting a group of heroes called the three musketeers.

Anyways, what I think this movie will bring to the table the international relationships between other hero societies. If Japan is sending heroes out of the country for missions, then whos to say that Japan won’t allow heroes from other nations to their country.

Because in the manga I’m assuming the number of active heroes has plummeted. This means that the HPSC is gonna be in a hole. To maintain order, I wonder if they would offer contracts towards heroes from other countries to help them out. If the movie is set up the way I think it is, then some characters and things we see in the film may migrate over into the manga (like Melissa Sheild)

And the movie seems to happen right before the war arc because it looks the three are in their winter gear and under Endeavors internship still

#bnha 307 #mha 307 #mha spoilers #bnha spoilers #midoriya izuku #izuku midoriya #anime #manga #my thoughts

7 notes · View notes

symphonicspecter · 3 years ago

Note

i have to let you know that your tags on my big shot vocal isolation post were funny as fuck and made me laugh. the ghost adventure vibe of theories and discovering tiny hidden things is SOO true. anyway thats all just had to let you know that LOL

I'm a simple person, I reblog a post, I put all my silly little thoughts in the tags. And when those tags amuse other people, that's a bonus :)

I feel a lot like I'm wearing a tin foil hat this past week as I've been talking about DR theories and picking out details with people, haha

#one of those topics was in fact listening to Big Shot and finding as many leitmotifs as we could #and at the time I was kinda frustrated about the vocals bc I couldnt tell what they say if anything #so gracias that's one more on the theme analysis pile #ouija board

1 note · View note

themurphyzone · 5 years ago

Text

104 Words for 104 Days: Lemonade

It’s Candace appreciation hours! I wanted to do a Candace and Vanessa conversation because of CATU.

Jeremy looked so cute in his Slushy Dawg uniform. Well, he looked cute in any outfit, but the Slushy Dawg hat just added an extra layer of adorableness. Candace snapped a photo on her phone while Jeremy took a customer’s order, ducking behind the wall against her table before he could look up.

“Total keeper,” Candace giggled, unable to stop the high-pitched squeal that made people stop and stare like they’d never seen a teenage girl in love before. “The sunlight bounces off his hair perfectly in this one.”

She raised her phone again as Jeremy bagged several hot dogs, all wrapped neatly in tin foil. No wonder every Slushy Dawg manager in Danville and Mt. Rushmore fought over him. He was the best guy for the job with that award-winning smile.

“Hey, Candace. What’s up?”

Candace shrieked, slapping her hand against her mouth and almost losing her grip on her precious phone. She whirled around, her knee banging painfully on the table rim. Luckily for her, Jeremy was too busy to notice.

Vanessa was holding two medium-sized cups of lemonade, a purse and small wallet tucked in an awkward position under her arm. Despite that, Vanessa just radiated casualness.

Caught by the coolest and most mature girl she’d ever known. Candace mentally apologized to Stacy, wondering if she was breaking some BFF-practically sisters code for even thinking that way.

Candace leaned against the table, propping her head up with her elbow. “Yo, Vanessa. ‘Sup with you?”

She cringed as soon as the words left her mouth. Maybe that was too casual.

“My dad’s scheme involves chicken and waffles, so I got out of there before he could make the entire place smell like poultry,” Vanessa said, thankfully not commenting on Candace’s failed attempt at casualness and making things more awkward. “Mind if I join you for a while? I’ve got time to kill and a spare cup of lemonade here.”

“Sure thing! I’m just waiting for Jeremy’s shift to end. Then we’re going out for dunch. It’s like brunch, but it’s a cross between lunch and dinner,” Candace said as Vanessa settled on the opposite side of the table. Vanessa set the cups on the table, sliding the spare lemonade and a wrapped straw to Candace. She tucked her wallet into the purse, setting them in the space between her and the wall. Even Vanessa’s purse was goth with purple highlights. Just enough to get the point across without being overly edgy.

“That’s nice,” Vanessa said.

Candace glanced at the rest of the packed food court. She prided herself on people-watching, but she didn’t see anyone who looked like they’d hang out in the same clique as Vanessa. “So why do you have two lemonades anyway? I mean, it’s a great drink but-“

“-you thought I was a black-coffee-just-like-my-soul kind of person?” Vanessa finished. There was a tiny mischievous smirk on the corner of her lips.

Candace laughed, maybe a little too loudly. She caught herself just in time. “HA! I mean…no way! I would’ve totally pegged you for the latte type! Cause lattes are cool! And trendy! And hip! And…I’m gonna stop talking now.”

To her surprise, Vanessa laughed. “Joke’s on you. I prefer cappuccinos.”

“That was my second guess.” Candace covered her lie with a long sip of lemonade.

Please don’t call me out on not knowing the difference between lattes and cappuccinos. Please don’t call me out on not knowing the difference between lattes and cappuccinos…

“Anyway, there’s a new lemonade kiosk and I was thirsty,” Vanessa said. “Buy One, Get One Free deal this week to celebrate the grand opening. Tried telling the cashier I was by myself, but he insisted on giving me the extra cup because he didn’t want the owner-slash-mascot to accuse him of stealing corporate secrets for the orange juice empire, whatever that means.”

“Owner-slash-mascot?” Candace echoed.

Vanessa pointed behind Candace. Shrieks erupted from several families as a large man wearing a hat decked out with lemons jumped onto their table, disregarding the half-eaten burgers and fries. Whatever lunch was left was quickly snatched away before the man trampled them underfoot.

“BOO-YAH LEMONADE IS IN BUSINESS, BABY!” he screeched, pumping his fists into the air and being oblivious to the crowd’s general annoyance. “GET ‘EM WHILE THEY’RE COLD AND FRESH! LEMONADE RULES, ORANGE JUICE DROOLS!”

“Mall security team to food court! Code Yellow! The owner-slash-mascot of Boo-Yah Lemonade is being annoying again! I repeat, Code Yellow!”

As a mall security team thundered up the escalator, the man leapt off the table and shoved people aside in his hurry to get away.

“I’M A PUBLIC NUISANCE FOR THE GLORY OF LEMONADE!” his voice faded away as he ran into the nearest department store. The crowd parted to let the mall security team through, then went back to their regular weekend at the mall schedules as if nothing had ever happened.

Vanessa swirled her lemonade with her straw. She was probably too used to craziness to be affected much. “So have you watched any of my DVDs yet? Have you gotten to Le Coeur Noir De Douleur et de la Tristesse Douce?”

“Is the goat head supposed to visually indicate the woman’s headstrong nature?” Candace asked. She wasn’t mentioning that she couldn’t pronounce the foreign film titles at all.

Vanessa shrugged. “I thought it represented her childhood on the farm before the loan shark took away the goats as payment for her father’s debt, but your guess is pretty good too.”

“Real art is so confusing,” Candace admitted.

“Yeah, but that’s why it’s so fun,” Vanessa said.

Then Irving passed by their table, holding several large posters with two very familiar faces printed on them. Candace snatched a poster from the top of the stack, startling Irving into dropping the rest.

“Hey, what gives?” Irving grumbled, but Candace and Vanessa ignored his protests.

The poster featured her brothers, an elaborate outdoor battle arena as the bustworthy project of the day, and their backyard as the location. The three prerequisites to any bust.

Dunch would have to wait. It was busting time now.

“Could you tell Jeremy I need to go bust my brothers? He’ll understand,” Candace asked. She tried to fold the poster for easy carrying, but it was too large for her purse and her skirt lacked pockets. Then she crushed her empty lemonade cup and dropped it into the garbage can. “I’ll come back when I’m done.”

“Alright. Nice hanging out with you.” Vanessa waved, and Candace almost tumbled down the escalator in her haste to return the gesture, keep the poster from being ripped, and call her mom at the same time.

But she managed to speed-dial her mom, cackling maniacally as she tore through the mall and weaved around shoppers, only managing to lose a third of the poster in the process.

“MOM! PHINEAS AND FERB ARE HOSTING A HOLOGRAPHIC BATTLE ROYALE BETWEEN ALL FOUR PLAYING CARD SUITS!”

o-o-o-o-o

Vanessa walked up to Slushy Dawg once the line of customers thinned. Jeremy wiped a spot on the counter, smiling brightly before she even got to the register.

She could see why Candace was so enamored with him. Jeremy was either a really good actor or just oddly calm when it came to retail. No wonder Candace felt comfortable enough to push back the time on short notice.

She never could’ve done that with Johnny, and she and Monty needed to coordinate timing on their dates to avoid parental outrage.

“Welcome to Slushy Dawg! May I take your order?” Jeremy asked.

Vanessa shook her head. Slushy Dawg would never get any better, but she kept that comment to herself. “I’m not ordering. Just here on Candace’s behalf. She’ll meet you for dunch once she’s finished busting her brothers.”

Jeremy chuckled. “That’s Candace for you.”

“She’s really running all the way to the suburbs?”

“Candace has a lot of endurance.”

“That’s really cool,” Vanessa said.

“I know, right?” Jeremy beamed.

Candace was so lucky to have an understanding boyfriend. It was definitely a breath of fresh air from what she usually dealt with.

#phineas and ferb #candace flynn #jeremy johnson #vanessa doofenshmirtz #fanfiction #104 words for 104 days #canderemy

23 notes · View notes

mikeyhatesit113 · 4 years ago

Text

forever and never: Chapter 10

My car pulls up to the daycare entrance and Janie comes outside, the overnight bag slung loosely from her shoulder. Her face is blank, but her demeanor is defeated. She walks to my car and she gets in, shutting the door behind her. It’s just us two and a pregnant silence now.

A million questions swim through my mind.

Not to be outdone, she has a million excuses prepared.

“He drove you to work this morning?” I start by asking.

“Yeah,” she says quietly.

After the barrage of text messages from her and Bill, I am still unclear about what the truth is.

He said they met multiple times.

She said once.

He said they kissed several times.

She claimed once.

But whether it was a thousand times, or just once, I had a single question. This question did just pertain to the past 24 hour’s events, but it covered all the happenings over the past two years.

The hotel stays without receipts or bank records. The men who were just friends. The phone calls and text messages dripping with secrecy. The names under other names.

The nights where I watched her walk away.

“At any point throughout any of this, did you ever consider what you were doing to your sons’ home?” I asked.

My voice was not loud. My tone was not vicious.

It was a simple question that any mother should have been asking themselves. An anguished look comes across her face and she leans forward, putting her face in her hands.

Her muffled sobs fill the car and the atmosphere is devastating for both of us.

She had been caught, and another secret love story had been reduced to smoldering ash.

And for the third time in 2 years, I once again had been deceived.

Only this time, I had more answers than questions. I knew she was actually guilty.

Her lips had actually touched another man’s.

Proof beyond a reasonable doubt.

With this verdict, what would the jury decide?

They were lenient.

My heart wrenched at the thought of leaving her and the boys. After all we had been through, and all I believed we had overcome, I just couldn’t bring myself to throw in the towels.

I had watched those two little boys grow into walking, talking mini-adults.

James was no longer a curious Pre-K little boy. He was now 10, and he was funny. He had friends, and we had a great relationship. He loved Michael Myers just like I did, and he mimicked my wacky antics around the house. He was as close as a son could be.

Brock was no longer a tot in diapers. He was an animated kid who had started school now, and he loved to wrestle in the living room with his brother and I.

After 4 and a half years of being responsible for them, I was supposed to walk away without a second thought?

What if we could overcome this? One more thing to look back on as an old couple, decades later on that typical front porch swing moment. Saying with a smile as we are looking into eachother’s eyes, “We made it.”

“We got through it.”

“We proved our love was stronger than anything.”

“For better or for worse.”

Despite everything I knew, and how dirty I felt, I had decided to stay. I couldn’t pronounce it dead yet, despite what the vitals were telling me.

And as we moved on just days after the Bill scandal broke, I remained disturbed by a single, abstract thought.

I had trusted Bill, and he was a great friend.

He was my groomsman who saw us at our worst and our best.

But the fact that I was blindsided by his betrayal wasn’t because of those things, necessarily.

It was due to something else.

Like, the fact that, Bill wasn’t the one I had my eye on.

I was eyeing another person entirely, and we had already crossed paths.

Let me introduce you to, Steppenwolf.

“Mr. Steppenwolf is so funny,” Janie laughed in the kitchen as she was preparing dinner one day. We were telling eachother about our respective days, and she was telling me about how Mr. Steppenwolf, a fellow daycare teacher, had outsmarted an angry parent that day.

In fact, Mr. Steppenwolf was the director of the program at Janie’s center.

Sound familiar?

“And he has the craziest hats,” she giggled.

“Oh,” I responded. A balding man with gray hair in his 30’s with a wacky hat collection seemed interesting enough, but it quickly left my mind.

He was married with kids, anyway.

But then, Mr. Steppenwolf popped up on my radar again just days later.

I was scrolling through Instagram, and I noticed that Steppenwolf had been “liking” and commenting on almost every one of Janie’s pictures.

Despite the arena I was in, I wasn’t a terribly jealous guy. But for curiosity’s sake, I went to Steppenwolf’s profile and discovered that Janie was doing the exact same thing to his photos.

For instance, his picture of a stink bug had earned a “like” from Janie, and a bonus comment that said, “OMG Mr. Steppewolf, what a creepy bug!”

In addition, I noticed that their social networking relationship was barely a month old, and the commenting/liking had picked up in frequency.

But nevertheless, I wasn’t a jealous guy. However, I did casually tease Janie about the interactions with Mr. Steppenwolf on Instagram. She played it off and changed the subject.

Coincidentally, Mr. Steppenwolf’s profile went PRIVATE a day later.

But perhaps, Steppenwolf was deemed a true threat until one beautiful Summer day.

It was a sunny, July day, and I was going to a Fantasy Football draft at a friend’s house.

Janie, usually opposing my attendance to such events, was surprisingly supportive and cool with my plans to go. In fact, she whipped me up a batch of Buffalo Chicken Dip to take along as a party contribution.

“And I know when you guys get together, you like to stay out late. Just so you know, I won’t be mad if it goes to 2am or something. You deserve to have a good time with your friends,” she spoke.

“Are you sure you’re ok with me going?” I asked as I put tin foil over the top of the chicken dip pan.

“Yeah,” she insisted brightly. “I’ll just hang out around here, or maybe go see my parents at the campground,” she said.

“Cool,” I said, grabbing my keys. I was running a bit behind on time, and I had to get on the road. I had planned to leave 10 minutes earlier, and now I was probably going to be late.

Just then, Janie’s phone on the counter lit up.

Out of habit, I looked at the screen and saw a text.

From Steppenwolf.

“Hey bud, wasn’t sure if we were still on the for the movie? If not, just let me know, and I’ll kick back and hang around the house.”

I read the message, my jaw clenching and my mind beginning to race.

Movie? With Steppenwolf??

What the fuck?

Janie looked at the screen, and immediately after reading the message, she got frantically defensive.

“He’s texting the wrong Janie!” she insisted, her eyes quickly welling with tears. “He must have meant the other Janie in the other program,” she explained.

She picked up her phone and dialed Steppenwolf immediately. He answered, and once again, what she said next would determine everything.

“Hey Mr. Steppenwolf,” she greeted him. “I have a very upset husband standing next to me, and he thinks your message was actually meant for me,” she fake chuckled.

I’m not certain what he said, but Janie’s reaction did its best to make me believe that this was indeed just a big misunderstanding.

“That’s what I said!” she said on the phone, laughing.

She offered me the phone. “Did you want to talk to him?” she asked.

“No,” I said, scowling.

I wasn’t sure what the fuck was going on, but it didn’t look good. As I waited for her to end the call, I knew that I no longer wanted to go to the Fantasy Football draft.

I wanted to dump the buffalo chicken dip in the trash.

How could I go have a good time with these new suspicions?

In terms of timeline, the Bill scandal had not yet happened. That wouldn’t be happening for another two weeks yet.

So in truth, these were my first suspicions since a year earlier when she ran off into the night with Shawn.

But I thought we had moved past that? I thought I’d never feel that way again?

Janie hung up the phone and insisted that his message was meant from someone else. I did my best to believe her, but I was uneasy.

What if it wasn’t a mistake?

I reluctantly left the house and went to the Fantasy Football party, sitting amongst my friends and doing my best to act normal.

Janie, almost as if she knew that I was on alert, texted me frequently.

A few hours later, I left the Fantasy Football party and went to the campground her parents were at. Janie had went to visit them, and she invited me to swing by.

We sat around the fire, talking casually. Janie and I did our best to ignore the serpent between us that had just been resurrected, threatening to strike.

As the days that followed went on, I noticed other little changes in Janie.

She suddenly took a big interest into the sporty attire that the younger girls at her center wore. She suddenly bought several pairs of running shorts, and her behavior at home transformed into more of their demeanor as well.

She’d post pictures online of herself posing flirtatiously with them. Of course, these photos had a thumbs up from Mr. Steppenwolf, who was often lingering in the background and making goofy faces.

Then, she started staying out later at night. She’d cite after-work meetings at a nearby sports bar, but some nights, she wouldn’t come home till after midnight. I’d stay up and wait for her, knowing I’d have to be awake for work in less than 5 hours, but I couldn’t sleep.

I had to know she was safe, and I had to torture myself with secret suspicions.

I’d watch the Lancer pull into the driveway as relief washed over me. I’d run upstairs and crawl into bed quickly so that she wouldn’t know I had stayed up to wait. She’d come upstairs and get ready for bed quickly, and as she’d get under the covers, I’d smell the beer on her breath.

She’d fall out pretty quickly, but I often laid there in the dark as I stared at the ceiling, wondering where her night had taken her.

The weird occurrences continued one day when I saw a mixed CD in her car. It was titled “Daddy Mix”, and it contained nothing but songs with the word “Daddy” in their titles.

“Daddy Sang Bass”, by Johnny Cash.

“Hey Daddy (Daddy’s Home)”, by Usher.

“Daddy’s Eyes”, by The Killers.

“What’s this?” I asked, holding up the CD.

“Oh, that,” she laughed. “So, I call Mr. Steppenwolf ‘daddy’ at work, and everyone thinks that it’s funny,” she explained. “So they all got together and put this CD together for me, and slid it in my mailbox,” she said.

The explanation seemed off to me. I’ve found many things my co-workers have done to be hilarious, but creating a mixed CD for them as a result honestly never crossed my mind.

It was such a small occurrence that I quickly forgot about it.

Either that, or I was actively overlooking things as to not find a reason to worry about them.

All I wanted was peace as a husband. I never believed that I had accidentally signed up to be a 24/7 private investigator.

Then one night, I came face to face with Steppenwolf.

It was a night where another after-work meeting was taking place, and she invited me. I sat there amongst her co-workers, and I found myself having a pleasant time as I met people and their spouses for the first time.

Then, Steppenwolf showed up.

I noticed quickly how he presented himself. Though he was a smaller man, he carried himself with an upmost self-importance.

I watched him get out of his purple sports car, and as he walked up, I saw him tug at the bottom of the tight lime-green polo he had decided to wear.

He walked into the outdoor patio area we were all seated at, and his co-workers welcomed him as he took a seat at the far end of the two tables we had pushed together to accommodate our party size.

Steppenwolf did not look at me.

Janie was seated beside me, deep in conversation with a fellow co-worker. I decided to drink some beers, and soon I found myself lost in casual conversations of my own with other people.

It was then I noticed, Steppenwolf and Janie were gone. I looked around quickly, but I could not spot them. I got up from the table and walked inside the crowded bar. After some quick recon, I located my targets.

They were deep in a hushed conversation back by the bathrooms, which were hidden from plain view. I walked up to them and as I stood beside Janie, I crossed my arms and faced Steppenwolf.

Their conversation abruptly stopped, and Steppenwolf shot me a sideways glance as he leaned on the wall. He walked away without another word, and I asked Janie about what I had seemingly interrupted.

“He’s just having an issue with another co-worker, and he was talking to me about it,” she said.

Soon after that night, the Bill events happened.

It was August now, and as Summer was winding down, Janie and I found ourselves in a shattered state.

But were we beyond repair?

The night before Labor Day Sunday, Janie and I decided to go to Hersheypark. It had always been a nice spot for us and the boys, but on this night, it was just us two.

Night had fallen, and the park was clearing out. There weren’t too many people left, and as we walked side by side, I noticed the continued silence between us.

“You ok?” I asked.

“Yeah, I just want to know that you’re ok,” she replied.

“I am if you are.”

The sunset that night, and the emptiness around us, was too eerie for me to ignore. It was symbolic of our love story.

----

The next day, we had a Labor Day cookout planned at our home. Close to the start time, Janie and I walked over to her mom’s house to get some bug spray.

My sister had requested some, and Janie found this as a reason to angrily march off across the street to accomodate my family.

“What is your problem?” I asked her as I followed behind her.

“Nothing, Michael, nothing,” she said.

We both returned to our house and our guests arrived. The cookout got started, and things started off normally enough.

Janie guzzled down alcoholic beverages, and she kept asking her step-dad to admit that she was his princess.

I played corn hole with some of the other guests, but predictably, things took a turn for the worst as night fell.

My father had taken my nephews to a local carnival that night, and he dropped them off at our house because my sister was attending our cookout. However, my father wanted to make a quick job of dropping them off, as his dog had been at home for hours without a bathroom break.

I stood out front with my sister as we casually chatted with our father, and then he got back in his car and drove off.

Janie, however, took great offense to this gesture. He had not come back to the party in the back yard to say hello, and she decided that she had an issue with this.

I picked up on this when I returned to the back yard, and Janie stood amongst the party guests glaring at me.

When I watched her walk in the house, I seized my opportunity to follow her inside and find out what was wrong.

“Hey,” I said as I slid the door closed behind me. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing is ever good enough, is it?” she asked.

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“Your dad, after all these years, still hates me,” she said. “What the fuck are we even doing?” she asked savagely.

Kelly came inside at that moment, and she saw our confrontation.

“Guys, don’t fight,” she said.

“I’m not fighting!” I said, my temper soaring. “She’s picking another fight with me!”

At those words, Janie scoffed and ran upstairs. When she came back down, she had another overnight bag slung from her shoulder.

The second one I had seen in a month. The third one I had seen in a year.

“And where are you going?” I asked.

“Janie, don’t leave,” Kelly begged.

Janie only wanted to talk to Kelly, but I barreled on, demanding to know where Janie was leaving to go this time.

Janie asked where the Lancer keys were, but I wasn’t about to let that happen.

“You aren’t taking the Lancer,” I said. “You’ve been drinking, and you’re not totaling my car.”

Janie didn’t scream back, though.

As our guests continued enjoying themselves in our back yard, Janie quietly left out the front door. I watched her from the door step as she disappeared into the night, one more time.

There was nothing for it. She was looking for a reason all along.

And I was tired of stopping her.

I was tired of trying.

But seeing her walk away never got easier.

I returned to the back yard, and though some people were aware what had happened, others didn't mind. Janie’s step-dad chatted merrily with our landlord, taking swigs of beer. I wasn’t about to spoil their time.

I walked up to my grandmother and uncle, and I quietly let them know what had happened. I walked them to their car, feeling bad at the failure I had become.

“Well,” my grandmother said. “You’ll have this. And remember what I said, you have a home with me.”

I thanked her and my uncle for coming, and after they drove away, I never felt more alone. Most of the guests had departed, but a few stayed. I walked around my empty home, wondering what to do. I decided to go to bed.

Of course, i didn't sleep at all.

Our Boston Terrier curled up next to me in bed as I listened to Linkin Park’s “Burn It Down” on my iPod.

The cycle repeated As explosions broke in the sky All that I needed Was the one thing I couldn’t find...

I got up several times that night, looking out the window and hoping to see her return. Instead, I remember seeing our landlord and a few of Janie’s family members sitting around our bonfire, still burning brightly.

After a brief stints of sleep and constant exhaustion, morning came.

The sky was full of clouds, and the air was humid and muggy. I walked around our house, seeing the mess in the back yard and the piles of dishes on the kitchen counter.

I was all alone.

I started cleaning up, trying to take my mind off of the situation at hand.

Had Bill re-entered the arena? Or was she with someone else?

I told myself I wouldn’t call, but we were past that point. Enough was enough. I picked up my phone and dialed her number, and it went right to voicemail. I said the only thing I could say;

“I’m not calling to find out where you are or who you’re with. I’m only asking you, out of respect for our time together and the home of those two little boys, to tell me what’s going on?”

I hung up and continued cleaning up the mess.

After a half hour, I called again.

“You don’t understand how serious this is, I need you to tell me what’s going on. Nothing else. Just tell me where things stand,” I spoke.

I hung up my phone.

Then, she called back.

I walked out into the back yard as I answered her call.

“Hey,” I said.

“I’m done,” she said softly. “We fight all the time. Things haven’t been right. We’re toxic,” she spoke. “I’m done.”

“Are you with Steppenwolf?” I asked.

“...yeah, but I slept on his couch,” she said.

Our conversation didn’t last long. What was there left to say?

I packed a few things in a hurry.

I was going home.

As I loaded some things into my car, I saw Janie’s mom sitting on her back porch. I shut my car door after putting my things inside the car and walked across the street.

“Hey,” I said.

“I’m sorry, Ekim,” her mom said. “I don’t know why she’s doing this. I didn’t raise her that way,” Janie’s mom spoke. “I can’t go against her, she’s all I have. She’s my baby,” her mom pleaded.

“I know. She’s with Steppenwolf,” I mumbled.

“Yeah, I heard. I don’t know why she’s doing this.”

---

Walking through my grandmother’s front door was less than ceremonious, but there are places throughout you’re life where you feel safe.

This was one of them.

My uncle had since moved in with her since I had moved out 5 years earlier, and he had my old room. But I didn’t care. I was eager to have any place to call home, and in turn, I moved whatever I had with me into a smaller upstairs bedroom.

It was my room when I was 14 years old before I moved to a bigger room. Since I had moved out of it, it had become a storage room for miscellaneous items and holiday decorations.

The bed mattress was gone, but the box spring was still there. I draped a few blankets on the top until I figured something else out in terms of a bed.

It would have to do for now, like everything else.

That day, I didn’t plan on staying idle and letting my imagination tear me to pieces.

There would be no sleep, no rest, and no peace.

So I might as well stay busy.

I decided to accompany some friends to a back yard cookout, and I needed to take several breaks away from the party to vent to my buddy’s girlfriend.

I was inconsolable. I couldn’t think of anything else.

Luckily, she was understanding and listened patiently while I spilled my guts several times that day.

My life was in pieces, and my marriage was over.

That night, they invited me back to their place to hang out.

I sat beside my one friend on their love seat as they watched the newest episode of the show, Breaking Bad.

I sat next to him and odd as it sounds, just not being alone made my eyes heavy.

36 hours of no sleep was catching up to me.

My head slumped over as I fell asleep, but I couldn’t fall into too deep of a sleep state.

Night was falling outside, and my vicious imagination was going to punish me for not giving it a chance to torture me all day.

I sat there, my head slumped on my buddy’s shoulder as I heard a song coming from the TV. It’s a song called “Crystal Blue Persuasion”, and it was playing on the episode of Breaking Bad. My imagination played a perverse slideshow for me as the melody filled my ears.

I missed her. I just wanted to be next to her.

And he had her.

The music from the TV played as the images in my head haunted me, my stomach turning...

“Look over yonder, what do you see?”

They start kissing in Steppenwolf’s living room, knowing they have the entire night together...

“The sun is a-risen, most definitely.”

They wander through Steppenwolf’s house toward his bedroom...

“A new day is coming, people are changing,”

They reach his bedroom and lay on his bed...

“Ain’t it beautiful? Crystal blue persuasion.”

The light goes out.

But for me, it was far from over.

Broken, but not beyond repair.

We weren’t finished yet.

“My secrets are buried now From my heart and my bones catch a fever When it cuts you up this deep It's hard to find a way to breathe

Your eyes are swallowing me Mirrors start to whisper Shadows start to see My skin's smothering me Help me find a way to breathe.”

Bring Me the Horizon “Sleepwalking”

NOTE: Though this is my side of the story, including my own personal recollections and opinions, the reader should not consider this note anything other than a work of literature. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

#dating #relationships #depression #breakups #relationship advice #divorce #marriage #mental health #suicide #begin again #new beginnings #taylor swift #never #forever #love #hate #papa roach

8 notes · View notes

eeveedel · 5 years ago

Text

chubby actor louis (pt 2)

What up SINNERS. So sorry I missed last week, I hope you still enjoy this lil baby that’s a coutinuation of my very questionable and self indulgent new series. I’m hoping to do at least two more installments a little later.

please note this fic deal with weight gain kink/fetish. it is heavy on food and weight talk. if any of that content bothers or triggers you, this will not be the story for you. also contains some sexual content!

very unedited bc words are fake anyways.

part 1 here

“Do I have to? This is the worst part.”

Louis was standing in the bathroom in just his briefs, Harry standing patiently next to him. And while he had taken his clothes off in front of Harry countless times, including when he started this whole thing, he somehow felt more naked now. He was acutely aware of his body, how his belly was doughy and swelled forward, how his legs had softened, and how his ass had grown, making his underwear tight. And he was just getting started.

“Come on, love, hop on,” Harry said gently, “I just wanna see where we’re starting, that’s all.”

One of the first things Harry had requested when he agreed to help Louis was that they were going to start weighing Louis every two days, rather than at the end of every week like Louis had been doing. He said it was important to keep track of this kind of thing so they could set goals for every day, and while Louis knew he had a point, he hated doing it in front of Harry. It was one thing to see the numbers rise on his own, but to do it in front of his boyfriend felt too personal and a little embarrassing. He wasn’t sure if Harry being into it made the situation better or worse.

Louis sighed and finally stepped onto the scale. He tried to relax his posture, letting his spine slouch a little and his arms swing loosely, like it would make a difference. The machine under his feet worked quickly, the display only blinking for a few seconds before it settled on one number.

“163,” Harry read out.

“Yes, I can read,” Louis said.

Harry laughed weakly, and out of the corner of his eye Louis saw him getting his phone out. He was opening his notes app, typing something in.

“So, by shooting time, you need to be at 178,” Harry said, “We can do that.”

Louis’s stomach fluttered a bit at “we,” the sign of Harry’s unquestioning presence on this weird project.

Harry had been around for plenty of Louis’s odd roles. He had helped Louis memorize a fake sci fi language for an outer space thriller, taken him to the air and space museum for hours while Louis took notes prepping to play an astronaut. and once had indulged Louis in a month of candlelit rooms and no Internet while he got ready for a drama set in Amish country. Harry had proved time and time again he was willing to help with whatever Louis’s very weird job required. But this felt different. Not least of all because Harry had never exactly been turned on by Louis’s role prep before.

“You can step off, baby,” Harry said gently.

Louis blinked, realizing he must have been there for away, and then stepped off the scale, watching it go back down to zero.

He stared at it for a long moment, and then felt Harry’s hand on his shoulder, giving him a squeeze.

“I can put lunch on,” Harry said, “Would that be okay? To eat something right now?”

Louis looked down at his stomach and put a cautious hand on it, squeezing the softness underneath his skin.

“I mean,” he said, “I guess we have to get there at some point.”

Louis really wished he had taken Harry up on his offer to cook for him earlier.

He was well aware Harry was an amazing cook – he made roasted vegetables and salmon three days a week taste incredible – but it was so different to see Harry cooking when he was not prohibited by a strict diet code.

New kitchen contraptions started appearing at their first door in express shipping packages – a breakfast maker, waffle makers, a panini press, an air fryer and then an actual deep fryer. Harry always told Louis to not worry about planning anything, he would take care of it, and Louis could just tell if he was craving anything. Louis was grateful for the relief – he had to memorize his lines by the end of the month and was already had enough to think about.

So he sat at the couch, or at his office upstairs, and Harry’s new creations kept arriving in front of him. Full English breakfasts with fried eggs and gravy-soaked sausages, mashed potatoes swimming in a small sea of butter, bacon and four-cheese grilled cheeses, mint chocolate chip milkshakes with chocolate and caramel syrup drizzled over a little hill of whipped cream. Harry presented each of them with a smile and a kiss to the top of Louis’s head or his cheek, and gave Louis the most brilliant grin when Louis brought down his empty dishes an hour later.

“Did you like it?” he asked, and would nod eagerly as Louis offered his thoughts.

Long lists of new recipes appeared on their fridge door, and Louis woke up a lot of days to see a slice of cheesecake wrapped in plastic in their fridge, or some waffle cut fries in tin foil, with a note on it telling him to eat it whenever he felt hungry.

And Louis did. It made him happy to eat Harry’s food, to see him smile, and also, it was just damn delicious.

By the end of his first week of Harry feeding him, he had gained another three pounds, something that made Harry grin and reward Louis with a plate of nachos, covered in melted cheddar and mozzarella, crumbled beef, and salsa.

“We still have awhile to go,” Louis said, squinting at Harry as he brought another cheese-soaked chip to his mouth, “Don’t be too proud of yourself.”

Harry sat across from him at the counter and he just smiled again, his eyes flicking between the plate in front of Louis and his mouth.

“I think we can manage,” Harry said, “I’ll provide the food, you just put in the effort.”

“I am putting in effort, you dick,” Louis huffed, picking up another chip. He took extra care to dare it through a pool of cheese at the edge of the plate, “You think I’m not?”

Harry shrugged, and Louis recognized the little glint behind his eyes. He was angling for Louis’s competitive side, and fuck if he wasn’t doing a good job of it.

Louis picked up two chips, once again trying to drag them in the toppings so he had as much as possible balanced on them before he shoved them into his mouth.

“Don’t choke,” Harry said mildly.

“Don’t be an ass and just get me some soda,” Louis huffed.

Harry smiled and went to their fridge, getting out a two-liter of Coke. Regular-ass, non-diet Coke. He didn’t even pour it into a glass. Louis just unscrewed the top and sipped.

“I’m going to finish this,” Louis said firmly, “Just so you know.”

“Okay,” Harry said, and his mouth twitched at the corner.

Louis put his head down and focused on putting chips and cheese into his mouth. It was greasy as hell, and salty, and he felt his head going a little fuzzy from the combination of all of it alongside the liquid sugar he had already sucked down.

He kept eating until his fingers were shiny and his slick felt slick with grease, and he reached down to move the elastic of his sweatpants under the curve of his belly, giving it more room.

“You okay?” Harry said, and Louis thought he detected interest in his voice.

“I’m great,” Louis answered, picking up the soda again. He hiccupped weakly as he swallowed it down.

“These are good,” Louis said as he picked up more food. The chips at the bottom were nearly soaked through in grease, and he eagerly shoved them into his mouth. “You should make these more often.”

“I will,” Harry said. Louis could hear his voice was getting a little thin at the edges.

Louis picked up two more chips, eating them at the same time.

“If you eat all of that I’ll eat you out for half an hour,” Harry blurted out.

Louis arched his brow and put another chip in his mouth.

“I don’t know,” he said slowly, “My belly’s kind of full. I probably can’t lay down flat. You’re going to have to roll me onto my side.”

He rubbed his stomach as he said it, and he felt the grease on his fingers rub off on his shirt as he did.

Harry stared down and then back up, and he folded his arms and leaned forward.

“Louis,” Harry drawled, “Honey. You better eat those fucking nachos or I will lose my mind.”

Louis just smiled in return, and scooped up a chip entirely covered in cheese, taking his time biting into it.

He finished the nachos.

Louis understood that eventually it was going to happen. He knew the consequences of gaining what was now officially twenty-two pounds.

Still, after two weeks of Harry’s cooking, he was not exactly happy when he was trying to put on what used to be his affectionally named “fat jeans” and they couldn’t go over his ass.

He stood in their room, jumping feebly on his toes and tugging, but they wouldn’t go up. The denim hugged too tightly against his thighs, the skin of his legs bulging out just a bit, and the edge of the waistband kept cuffing his ass. It didn’t help his underwear were also a bit tight, and they kept wanting to move inward and get trapped between his cheeks.

“Harry!” he shouted, because what the hell else was he going to do.

Harry arrived in the doorway of their room a few minutes later, and he just stared, his mouth wide.

“Oh my god.”

“Yeah, yeah, oh my god,” Louis huffed, “I swear to god these just fit. But you had to go and put heavy cream in my coffee like a psychopath.”

“You liked it. A lot,” Harry said passively, “So. You want to go to the mall, get some new clothes?”

Louis looked up at him, his eyes wide and his hands still gripped on the useless flaps of his pants.

“You want me to go out in public right now?”

“We’ll go in the back way,” Harry shrugged, “And you can wear sunglasses. And a hat.”

“Oh, brilliant disguise ideas from my fashion designer boyfriend here.”

He ducked his head again and pulled on his jeans again, but it wasn’t doing anything. If anything the edge of the denim was chafing his ass.

“Can’t you just fix these for me? Isn’t letting things out part of your job?” Louis asked, gesturing to his jeans.

“I could,” Harry allowed, “But if you’re going to lose the weight later you’ll want your old clothes.”

“Fuck, you’re right,” Louis said. He yanked his pants off, kicking them hard to get the blasted things off his ankles. Then he huffed angrily, dragging a hand through his hair. “Shit, I just – I really don’t want to go out in public right now, that’s all.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Harry said, “No one is going to recognize you.”

“I’m insulted,” Louis said, “Do you know how famous I am? Do you know how many Teen’s Choice awards are in our spare room?”

“Yes, I know,” Harry chuckled, “But babe…you don’t exactly look like yourself right now.”

Louis frowned, and lifted his head. He shuffled forward to the big mirror on the inside of his closet door and looked up.

And fuck, Harry was right. He didn’t really look like himself. He hadn’t shaved in a while, for one, and his hair was a little longer. But his face was puffy, his cheekbones covered with round cheeks that pushed up, making his eyes look smaller. His thighs were wide and soft, only a little bit of his old muscles visible. When he turned he could see his ass had grown and widened, and while it used to be round and firm from his tireless squat routine, it was just…soft now. And he had a proper belly, not the tiny bit of bloating he used to get sometimes, but a proper one that puffed out and felt heavy on his core.

The man everyone was expecting when Louis went out in public wasn’t here now.

“You’re right,” he sighed, and put his hands on his hips. “Let’s go shopping.”

They went to a mall a little outside of the city limits, which was pretty empty for the time being.

Louis hadn’t been clothes shopping in a while, but luckily Harry was always out and about, picking up new things to cut up and sew back together, so he immediately picked some stores to go to.

They went to a men’s’ clothing shop, and Harry looked through the racks with great focus, picking up some jeans and shirts and slinging them over his arm.

“I’ll get you a few sizes,” Harry said, “Remember, you don’t want them too tight. You need a little room to grow.”

The expression coming from Harry’s mouth made Louis’s face burn, and he just followed his boyfriend wordlessly as he plucked up different garments.

They spent a little too long for Louis’s liking in the dressing room, but it went okay, all things considered. He got a few new pairs of jeans, several new t-shirts, a new flannel shirt and a new sweater. Harry encouraged through all of it, giving him kisses and telling him how well the clothes showed off his curves, but after awhile, Louis grew tired of wriggling in and out of new pants and asked if they could stop. Harry just nodded. whipped out his credit card, and told Louis he would pay for both the clothes and their lunch.

Of course, it went without saying that Harry was also going to pick the location, which was how they ended up in an All-American buffet.

Louis was sitting in a darker, more secluded corner of the dining area, in a sticky fake leather booth. The walls around him were painted with scenes of the wild west, cowboys and horses. He had a huge tumbler of orange soda in front of him, which he kept picking up and sipping at as he waited for Harry to return from picking out his meal. He was admittedly a little hungry, so he was kind of looking forward for whatever Harry was getting him.

What he did expect was Harry nearly skipping back to the table, two plates in his hands and two perfectly balanced on his forearms, all of them loaded down with food.

He set them all down in front of Louis with a smile, and Louis just stared at him, his mouth gaping.

“How – “ Louis sputtered, “How did you even carry all of that?”

“I was a waiter before you met me. You know this,” Harry said, “Now dig in, I’m going to get myself.”

He turned, then, heading back to the lines of food, and Louis took in what Harry had picked for him.

On one plate there was a large cheeseburger, loaded with with several slices of bacon, and a generous serving of crinkle-cut fries. On the next there were ribs soaking in barbeque sauce and a side of mac and cheese, the cheese nearly orange and the pasta covered in golden breadcrumbs. Then there was a big plate of cheesy scrambled eggs and two sausages, and then the last was loaded with three big cinnamon rolls dripping with white icing.

Louis was still staring at it all when Harry came back to the table, carrying a bowl of salad and another bowl full of salad for himself.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked, then his face fell, “Shit, I’m sorry is that too much for you? I’m sorry. I just got excited.”

“No, it’s okay,” Louis said quietly, “Um. Is it okay if I don’t finish all of it? It’s just so much.”

“That’s fine,” Harry said quickly, “I just wanted to get you plenty. Take your time.”

“Okay,” Louis nodded, then smiled, “This really does look so good, thank you.”

Harry gave him another warm look, and that was enough for Louis to get started. He picked up some ribs, holding them delicately, and took some bites. The meat was tender and came apart easily, and the sauce was delicious, sweet and thick. He nodded happily and took more bites, feeling some sauce collect on his lips.

“You’re so cute when you eat,” Harry said across the table, and Louis blushed.

He polished off his ribs, the weight of the food hot and pleasant in his belly. He wiped off his mouth and fingers as best he could, and then picked up a fork and went for the mac and cheese. It was rich, creamy and salty and tasting like sharp cheddar. He ate it embarrassingly fast, the pasta quickly disappearing into his mouth.

“That’s so good,” he said, and picked up his soda to shallow it down. He wasn’t hungry anymore, but he certainly wasn’t full. So he went for the eggs. It was a nice compliment to the mac and cheese, more cheese, more salt, a light, fluffy texture. He ate it in little bites, licking his lips at how salty it was.

“I’m gonna be so bloated after this,” Louis said as he picked up his soda and took a long drink. Harry didn’t say anything, but Louis did notice he had stopped picking up the fork for his salad, instead watching Louis.

The eggs were so good, soft on his tongue, and he felt himself going fuzzy from the salt and the weight in his stomach. Half the plate was still in front of him, and he was definitely getting full now, and he told Harry he didn’t have to finish all of it. He could throw up a white flag right now.

But the rest of the food looked so good, and Harry watching him intently. And…what was going to happen to him, really? He was going to get bigger? He needed to get bigger. It was fine.

So, with several more forkfuls lifted to his lips, he finished his eggs.

He set down the fork with a distinct little click, and Harry leaned forward.

“Hey, you did really good, thank you – “

But Louis was picking up his cheeseburger He took a big bite, keeping his eyes locked on Harry, who blinked at him.

“You – “ Harry swallowed, “I – “

Louis smirked as he as swallowed. His mouth tasted like salt and grease, and he went in for another bite. He moaned a little, and Harry didn’t move, didn’t even close his mouth.

He shouldn’t be doing this. His stomach was tight, and he could feel the elastic of his sweatpants pushing out, cutting in. Fuck, he was going to have to buy new sweatpants soon. His body wasn’t used to this, it was used to constant exercise and juice cleanses.

The mere thought of it made Louis eat another bite with more zeal, really tearing it and chewing hard. He didn’t realize how tired of that he was until now.

The burger was delicious, and he felt a wet bit of grease run down his chin. Jesus fuck, it was literally leaking with fat, and he was eating it happily.

He ate fast, so fast he couldn’t pay too much attention to his protesting stomach. He polished the burger off and didn’t even wipe his mouth as he picked at the fries, grabbing multiple at once.

“You know how in every fucking interview I do for movies, they ask me about my preparation?” Louis said to Harry, “Imagine this one. ‘Louis, you had to gain thirty pounds for this role. And we hear you didn’t even have that much time to do it. How did that happen?’ And I’ll get to say, ‘well, my boyfriend stuffed me every day for weeks at a time and got a boner doing it, so it was easy.’”

He shoved the fries in his mouth and was already picking up another handful and dunking it in ketchup as he chewed. He barely swallowed before he was eating more.

His stomach was aching now, and he groaned, pushing down the painful elastic on his pants, but it still felt tight around his hips.

“We – oof, we should go back for some new sweatpants, babe. Gonna fuckin’ bust these soon.”

He picked up more fries, and he was acutely aware of how Harry was staring him down, his food abandoned, his eyes dark.

Louis’s body was hot from head to toe, and he was sweating a little, but he couldn’t tell if that was from the effort his meal was taking out of him or from how Harry was looking at him.

But he felt something else shift as he polished off his fries and shoved the plate away, seeking out more of his soda.

He thought he was imagining it, but as he dragged the plate of cinnamon rolls closer to himself, the plate scraping loudly on the table, he knew he was right.

He was hard.

He was in a mall buffet and he was getting a hard on from stuffing his face.

He didn’t know how to handle that. So he picked up a cinnamon roll instead.

It was pure carbs, heavy, the icing sticky and all sugar, and it made his brain buzz and his eyes flutter closed. He shoved the pastry into his mouth hard, forcing himself to chew. His belly gave an unhappy little gurgle, but his cock was happy, and his boyfriend looked ready to pounce, so he kept chewing.

He finished one of the rolls with a pant, setting both hands on his stomach. He smeared grease and icing on the fabric of his hoodie, and he sighed. He rubbed his hands over his belly, round and hard, the fabric of his sweatshirt pulled tight over it. He pulled it up, over the hill of his stomach. His shirt had already ridden up, and there he was, his stomach hanging out in public, as he grabbed for another roll.

Harry was nearly foaming at the mouth, and Louis ate the cinnamon roll in small but eager bites. He felt icing smear on his mouth and he didn’t bother to fix it. He was sweating and blushing and his dick was hard in public and none of it mattered.

The roll was gone soon, and he stuck his fingers in his mouth, sucking off the icing. He slumped in the booth and then picked up the last roll, his white fucking whale. He tipped back his head and opened his mouth and shoved nearly half of it in. He focused hard on the taste of it. Fluffy bread, cinnamon, honey, pure sugar. His mouth was lazy as it chewed, as if even his tongue was sick of his ordeal, but he swallowed it down none the less. He had to keep shifting his hips, trying to keep his belly happy, but it was no use. It was pissed at him. But Louis had half a cinnamon roll left.

He shoved it in his mouth in one bite, his cheeks bulging as he chewed and chewed, squeezing his eyes tightly as his throat worked, trying to swallow it down.

Soon, it was done, and for his last stupid act, Louis reached for his soda, tipped the glass, and chugged until it was empty.

When it was done he slammed it on the table and panted, clutching his stomach and staring at Harry, who was already standing.

“Get me home right now and fuck me,” Louis said, his voice weak.

Harry nodded and reached down, guiding Louis up to his feet. He pulled his sweatshirt down and then stared at the obvious bulge in Louis’s pants, and then looked up with even wider eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, looks like you’re not the only one who’s into this,” Louis snapped, then wheezed again, setting a hand on his stomach, “Fuck, help me waddle the hell out of here, you bastard.”

Harry surged forward, kissing Louis hard, and then pulled back, wrapping a protective arm around him and helped Louis walk, slowly but surely, to the exit.

Somehow, as they got to the door, Louis found the energy to lean in and kiss under Harry’s ear, then whisper to him.

“Eight more pounds, baby.”

#drabbles #chubby actor #larry fanfiction #larry fan fic #larry fic

41 notes · View notes

atreya300 · 4 years ago

Text

Slenderman and Creating Real Tulpas

I remember a couple of years ago finding out about Slenderman. It was so creepy that I looked into it a lot, especially when I heard the theory about Slenderman being a Tulpa. As if he wasn’t creepy enough just by being a made up story on the Internet, kids were killing other kids, or stabbing other kids, in order to “please Slenderman”. Clearly a game that they had invented and taken deadly seriously.

A Tulpa is an intended hallucination which can be sentient and have its own thoughts and personality. It is (according to the Tulpa Community, but not, I may add, folkloric legend) only seen by the person who created it, who has done so by prolonged periods of thinking solely about what the tulpa looks like, talks like, moves like etc, thus developing, in essence, another person who is sharing their body and mind, but functions as a separate personality. We know of lucid dreaming, as I have often done it myself. We’re aware that our brains are more than capable of producing extremely real and vivid hallucinations.

So is it entirely impossible that if enough people all put enough thought power into the creation of the same, singular individual, that a tulpa could be formed which could break free of the constraints of individual minds and be a person all of its own, with its own free will and the power to manipulate others? I believe it is possible. Call me crazy. My tin foil hat is firmly in place. It’s hilarious really when you consider that I laughed down the Flat Earthers, yet here I am saying that it’s possible to create an imaginary friend who can turn into a mind-bending, master manipulator.

I didn’t have many friends growing up. So I was one of the kids who didn’t mind admitting that I had invented an imaginary friend. His name was Bill and he was based off of Bill from ‘Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure’ because I was obsessed with that movie. I would talk to him whilst walking home from school alone, ask him what he would do in my place during different situations that I was struggling with and he always had an answer that I imagined. I would say, “Bill, do you think [insert boyfriend name here] is a dick?” and in my head he would instantly say, “Hell yeah he is, you need to dump his ass!”. Of course, I never once thought that I had created another person. It was my imaginary friend. In my head. Made up by me. Well, me and Alex Winter. His instant “responses” was just my own subconscious mind telling me what I really, truly felt, without having to consciously think about it.

Having perused the Tulpa Community it seems to be an extremely dangerous rabbit hole. For one, what they are describing as “tulpas”, at best, mostly seem to be an adult version of an imaginary friend and at worst, a real mental health issue, possibly Dissociative Identity Disorder which is incredibly serious and is being passed off as something that is perfectly normal and almost a uncommon achievement to be able to create a tulpa, rather than the reality which is that there is real medical and psychological help out there for cases such as DID and it should certainly not be explained away as a deliberately induced imaginary friend who will solve all your problems for you. Passing it off as such could potentially make the case even worse. I’m not a psychologist. I’m just using common sense. If you cultivate something, it grows.

So. I have made a decision that I don’t buy into the Tulpa Community. There are also a lot of comments on YouTube videos and forums that are quite blatantly people who are full of absolute shit and others who are just clearly attention seeking. I thoroughly enjoyed the brilliant sarcastic responses to those comments.

Now let’s get serious (ish). Bear with me. Let’s get back to the theory of many people being able to collectively produce a tulpa.

As I said before, I became obsessed with Slenderman. I watched videos (all of Marble Hornets), read newspaper articles, looked at pictures, read stories, until he became my every waking thought. After a week and a half I developed sensations such as paranoia, racing heart, dizziness and the feeling of constantly being watched by something just out of the corner of my eye. I began having horrific nightmares and would wake up drenched in sweat. I stopped being able to lucid dream and wake myself up and was forced to play out the nightmares, helpless. It got to the point where I didn’t want to sleep. The times that my boyfriend had blessedly snored loudly enough to wake my conscious brain, I sat up in bed, exhausted, trying desperately to keep my eyes open and not fall back to sleep. Every shadow in the bedroom seemed to resemble Slenderman and I was convinced that as soon as the lights got dim or it was dark, he was there in the shadows waiting. I stopped going to bed before my boyfriend. I didn’t want to be in the house alone.

Looking back, naturally it all seems totally stupid. Me, a grown 35 year old, scaring myself silly because of a kids’ story on the internet. But what if it really is possible to create a tulpa by using enough collective subconscious power? Thousands of people in the world at the time were reading those same stories and scaring themselves silly like I was. If it was possible to create a tulpa, Slenderman and his fame would most certainly warrant it.

For anyone who isn’t familiar with the 80’s movie ‘A Nightmare on Elm Street’, the main bad guy/killer is Freddy Kruger, a demon (who was a bloke who killed kids and then got burned in a fire by their fucked-off parents, then he came back from the dead in peoples’ dreams, as a...you know what, I don’t fucking actually really know what kind of thing Freddy is) who kills people in their dreams. Enough people get to know about him and he suddenly can break free of only being in their dreams and can exist in the real world, killing whomever he chooses in reality. Freddy, is a tulpa. He existed in reality, purely because all the kids talked about him, described him to each other, then dreamed about him, which cemented him more in their brains, until he became a reality. By what was, if I remember correctly, the 407th film featuring Freddy, ‘Freddy vs Jason’ the townsfolk had worked out that the only way to defeat Freddy, was to pretend he didn’t exist. No one was allowed to talk about him, no one could mention his name, and anyone who dreamed about him was given dream suppression pills so they ceased dreaming altogether (boy didn’t I crave Hypnocil during my Slenderman nights). In this way, Freddy became weak and the town was safe (for a while - Stage Right - freaky hockey-mask-wearing-dude-with-mommy-issues).

My point is that from my personal point of view, the Tulpa Community are people who have really good imaginations, like myself and are doing nothing more than imagining another person. They are not “creating” a tulpa. Not in the sense that I think they think they are anyway. I sort of feel like a tulpa is akin to a golem who is created to protect someone or something and is capable of physical destruction in the real world.

I digress. Touching on Slendy for the podcast is something I’ve wanted to do for a while now, but I’ve hummed and hawed because, let’s face it, I’m scared. Slenderman did become a bit too real for me, even if it was in my head and my mind playing tricks on me, but it put me through sheer terror, I was legitimately scared of my own shadow so opening this can of worms is a big deal for me, even if it seems utterly stupid for a grown woman to feel that way. If two young girls can pretend that killing their friend as a “sacrifice to Slenderman” is real, then who’s to say if enough people genuinely hallucinated Slendy and his creepy, murderous personality, that other people could not be compelled to kill? He would become his own person. I’m a tin-foil hat wearing silly girl who believes a lot of ridiculous things (except Flat Earth, you guys are wrong - just saying), but from a mass hallucination point of view, I do genuinely think this could be plausible. And by delving back into this research, not only am I opening up the likelihood of scaring myself silly, into seeing shit that isn’t there, I would also have to be held (partially) responsible for creating the master Slenderman that wipes out the world by making people kill each other. Hmph. And Ted Bundy thought he had some great ideas.

Also, “Tulpamancy” is a thing. Although not according to the Tibetians, where the tulpa originated. Funny that. Almost as if it’s a made up word. (It is. By the Tulpa Community.)

As for the pretend “Tulpa Community”? Some of these people envision their tulpas as characters from ‘My Little Pony’. Make of that what you will. I wouldn’t personally be taking career and life advice off of a fucking horse. All I’m saying.

#slenderman #mystery #weird #tulpa #monster #murder

2 notes · View notes

kdtheghostwriter · 5 years ago

Text

SNK 4-Pack

Just to avoid any confusion, yup, it’s just what it says on the tin. I’ve gathered my thoughts on four chapters here. A combination of IRL obligations, lifestyle and equipment changes all of which has been more or less rectified. For now lol. To those who reached in the past months, I appreciate the thought. Apologies for keeping you waiting. Accept this humble offering and enjoy the new chapter release.

123 - Turn Me Loose

We’re in a very distressing place both in-story and IRL. So here:

It’s Mikasa’s first taste of ice cream. Feel better? Cool. Now let’s talk about the end of the world, pls.

I’ll get the obvious out of the way first. Just what did you think The Usurper meant when he said [checks notes] “I’m going to put an end to this world?” This isn’t Sword Art Online. He wasn’t talking about a virtual world. It’s closer to the SpongeBob bit where Squidward runs into his place of work to exclaim that robots have taken over the world, before he clarifies “Our world!” Paradis was merely a blip on the radar before the Royal Family lost the Coordinate. It was fun at first to rattle their cage and watch them war with eachother. Now the war is about to leave the shores of the Island and no one is laughing.

I don’t have much to say about this development in particular because I predicted it nearly one year ago. No one wanted to hear it, but I said to any ear that listened: if Eren is going to play the Bad Guy, he needs to be the Bad Guy. You can go back and read it. I said Eren Jaeger will be the new villain of the story. Well, there’s a word we use for the person who wants to exterminate all life on Earth and it’s not Samaritan.

But for every villain, a foil must rise. Reiner is the easy choice here. Not the wrong one, but easy and predictable. Eren and Reiner have been intersecting since the 104th squad’s first expedition. When Eren could have hidden during Marley’s 11th hour raid of Paradis, he chose to confront Reiner and expose himself for the sake of a fight he knew he would not lose. This is why I don’t have Reiner in this role. Reiner’s role is what we all thought Eren’s was up until Chapter 120 or so. He is Lady Fate’s whipping boy. Beating him down again and again while calling him and dummy for trying to resist against his lot in life. If Reiner steps to Eren this time, it will be more than just humiliation awaiting him. Yes, it’s still Mikasa. I doubt Eren’s plan (whatever the full scope of it is) can even be stopped but if it can she is the one to do it. It can only help that she has the God of Destruction on her side.

Getting ahead of myself, though. We have the famous confrontation to speak on. You know the one.

I understand the sentiment by Eren here but he was never going to get an accurate answer. At least not immediately. The poor girl is shocked. She’s been interrogated time and again about her loyalty to Eren and what exactly it means. The one person who has never questioned her further is the man himself. One can imagine how long he’s sat on this inquiry. He knew what he had to do. No answer she gave would have diverted his path, but maybe he wanted one last thing to feel good about before he doomed the world.

Either way, the team runs in to interrupt them like some teen movie and they all proceed to get drunk with the family of the Middle Eastern boy they aided earlier. Ever since this type of story analysis was popularized online (and especially on YouTube) people have fallen into the habit of using the word “filler” without knowing what the word means.

Because we are consuming this series week by week and because Eren’s descent into arch-villainy has lasted well over a year at this point this current disaster really does feel like it would in real life. A long, brutal decline with only one outcome and no way to stop it. This chapter was a palette cleanser after months of endless despair. If you can remember there was indeed a time where everyone was friends and Eren wasn’t trying to KILL THE WORLD. This chapter was a reminder of that. The faintest light shines brightest in total darkness. That light is what Mikasa is doing her best to hold onto.

124 - All Falls Down

The most interesting part of this chapter, which is largely set-up, is Jean’s assessment of the situation from his perch on a rooftop. It’s muted and resolute. The usual emotion is missing entirely. The fire is gone as he accepts the world’s creeping fate. The story’s most morally consistent character is seen trying to work out the thought process behind ending the world. They’re our enemies. They were going to attack us eventually. We were sitting ducks. Maybe this was always going to happen. His last observation is less rhetorical. In order to protect his friends, Eren has sacrificed the entire world. This includes the Subjects of Ymir who all received Eren’s message from the last chapter.

No time to contemplate that horror with the fresh hell of Zeke’s titanized victims running wild in Shiganshina which sounds mighty familiar. There’s a poignant scene that follows of the 104th cutting down their fellow soldiers, many of whom helped train them. It shows how far they’ve come and the overall affect their adventures have had on them that they are able to destroy their comrades without hesitation.

Ah! But this is SnK after all. The horrors are often double stacked. The time has come to decide which titan Falco gets fed to. Before anyone can note what terrible timing this is with a horde of Titans destroying the village around them, Connie makes an executive decision to nab the unconscious boy and feed him to his stranded Titan mother in his hometown.

Of course, no one believed at the time that Connie would be able to go through with such and act especially on someone as sweet and naïve as Falco, but it really drives home the not-so-quiet desperation of these characters and how each of them reacts to it. Mikasa and Jean are both trying to keep a level head. Armin isn’t in hysterics by any means but is missing his usual confidence. Connie, having already lost his best friend and half his squad is the first to let the despair of the situation get to him. It’s the same reason Armin volunteers to go after him. No it won’t solve any of their macro problems but reconciling with young Gabi and feeling like a hero again can at least make you feel useful in the face of your best friend trampling the world underfoot.

The reveal of Annie at the very end of this chapter after more than half a decade gone is classic Isayama melodrama and it’s one of the reasons that, despite monthly leaks, Shingeki no Kyojin is still a worldwide best-selling phenomenon. I don’t have much else to say about it other than having her gasping for air like a fish out of water after being encased in a Disney Princess Prison was a nice choice. One would have to think that seeing Annie again would have some sort of affect on Eren even in his current Kaiju state. Eh, I’m getting ahead of myself though.

Stray Thoughts

- Jean continues to be my favorite character in the story. With Pixis gone and Hange out of action, he’s the easy choice as acting Commander. Leading his own squad and the neighboring soldiers into battle against the rampaging Titans is heroism that stands out even more after sitting through months of the Jaeger Brothers’ power play.

- Shadis returning to aid the cadets that beat him down at Floch’s behest is all you need to know about his character. He’s a gruff man and his stint as the Survey Corps Commander left him emotionally busted. However, he never once forgot why he started doing this in the first place. He can’t save the world but he can save these kids, dammit.

- All Titan hardening has been rendered inert by Founder Ymir throwing off her chains. This includes Reiner who reveals to Gabi that his Titan’s armor fell off as the walls came down. Nothing in SnK happens on accident so we’ll put a pin by this and see where it goes.

- Reiner explains to a distraught Gabi, who is looking for Falco, that Eren is extra unstoppable because with full control of the Founder he now has full control of all Eldians. One has to wonder if the Ackerman Loophole is still in effect.

- Gabi used the same gun that started The Rumbling to save Kaya from a 2m Titan. Alright, jokes aside, I can put on my critical hat and say that this callback to Sasha was a bit ham-fisted and you could have found a less visceral way for Gabi to realize the error of her ways. (Avatar: The Last Airbender will always hold the title for this trope.) All that can be true and I still like Gabi showing some agency here. Being insistent on finding Falco and helping him is pretty key development imo. He’s the main reason she’s still alive.

125 - The Next Step

Annie is me when I write exposition. I know you think it’s “boring” and “filler” or whatever but I don’t care! Shut up and learn something for once, eh?

Anyway.

Annie and Hitch have catching up to do. I was about to say they were former roommates but as noted above, Hitch spent four years watching over the captive soldier. Now that she’s free and the world is ending she sees no reason to hold on to her backstory any longer. Annie was adopted and the man who trained her was also the man who raised her. It wasn’t until she was about to set sail for Paradis that he showed any remorse for her indoctrination. Even still, Annie never forgot his words and has been trying to get back to him as soon as she can by any means she can.

Taking off my critic hat I have to wonder what her mindset was locking herself away in that crystal. Obviously if she hadn’t the outcome is almost certainly being devoured by Eren or someone else as they were but a few short months away from learning the truth behind Titan Succession. Still, there’s no guarantee that she ever escapes at all. I was half convinced that Isayama was working toward the biggest troll job in the history of fiction by ending the story with Annie still in captivity. He didn’t though, so we have the rest of the narrative to work out what that means.

Sorta like these two.

Eh, he’s not wrong but his frustration is misdirected here. Mikasa asked a very valid question about what to do about the World Killer that happens to be their (former?) best friend. Mikasa is the only one in the group asking this question because she’s the only one that no longer id’s Eren as the hero of Stohess. Connie is a minor distraction especially compared to the army of Colossals; Armin knows this too but Connie is a distraction from the creeping dread that Eren is now unstoppable.

And Mikasa’s face here…oof. That’s two of her soon-dead Titan Bros who have yelled at her today. Should it hurt more? Probably but she is so far past hurt feelings at this point. She’s a soldier and she has work to do. Asking for a directive isn’t something to get triggered by but Armin is at his breaking point here. The little things that add up to make your shit sandwich 12 feet high. And so we hope that his side quest brings him peace.

I love this character.

He never once falters in his moral fiber. The depression keeps him from recognizing this but he is indeed special in his own way. After all is said and done that’s really all that can be expected of us. Shadis, ever the mentor tells his kids not to be heroes. Really, this quote can be transplanted to our current political situation IRL. There’s a lot of things wrong with the current system and we’d all like to make it better but we still have work and school and various other obligations to deal with and those don’t go away because we want to “make a difference.” The time will come to make your voice heard. Be ready when it happens, not before.

I do like how Shadis basically accepts his fate as a sacrifice to Floch’s faction as his only other option with the other heads of military dead are going on the run like Solid Snake and he is not about that life. He would rather take the rest of his lumps and be done with it.

This Fucking Guy

This is peak Lord of the Flies shit. Society has dissolved and the chain of command has been broken so just do whatever, dude! Think about what Armin said before. History always repeats itself without the proper prevention. The best prevention, of course, being education. Floch is the best example of why eliminating one side does not truly extinguish conflict. Even at the start we see various Shiganshina residents rightfully blaming Eren for his role in the destruction caused by the walls coming down.

The only way to reach consensus is with terror. We got a mere preview when Zackley got TNT’d so many moons ago. Now we see Floch Forster doing his best Neegan impression, splattering a volunteer’s brains across the floor. I won’t repost it but that panel is probably up there with Ymir’s cannibalization for most visceral of the story. Brutal in its suddenness, it almost becomes a smash cut. After so much death and destruction this act of violence isn’t lost in the pages because of how much grislier the executions are rendered. The intimacy of a human ending another’s life without the aid of a fleshy mech. I digress, though. Floch must be stopped or the future of Paradis is sealed, Rumbling or not.

Stray Thoughts

- “I’ll tell Connie! That even as a Titan overturned on her back, his mom is fine as she is!” My goodness this story is dark.

- I have been mercifully absent from fandom developments, so I have no idea if people are still as turnt about the Gabi character as they were when I left. With that said, it’s fun to see some good logical development, just like every adult fan of this series predicted there would be.

- Again, is Kaya being saved by Gabi in a direct parallel to Sasha doing the same a bit on the nose? Quite so. It isn’t good or bad and, honestly, judging by some meta I’ve seen in the past I don’t blame any author for erring on the side of the obvious.

- Have I said this next one before? Who knows? Reviving Erwin on that rooftop instead of Armin wouldn’t have changed much besides short-term strategy. Once the Usurper started down the Dark Path even Commander Handsome would be powerless to stop him.

126 - Hold the Line

Levi and Hange are on the lamb in the Forest of Big Ass Trees and the set up for this detour is a solid string of pages with Hange building shelter, tending to Levi’s wounds and picking off the new Survey Corps members that have been sent by Floch to find them be cause War is Hell.

This opening stanza is good because it highlights one of my favorite aspects of this character: their resourcefulness. First impressions being what they are lead people to take a throwaway joke about Hange keeping a pet Titan and let it inform one-note headcanons of their entire character. It shouldn’t be said but I will anyway. Hange is a clinical genius with a sharp wit in compliment. Their best skill is problem solving which would explain partially why they work so well with Armin. However, their particular thought process makes the kind of executive planning required from a Commander extremely challenging. Hange is better at devising a plan then receiving the instructions necessary to carry it out, if that makes sense.

Isayama, per usual, doesn’t spend the whole chapter on backtracking. He could have maybe but we do still have a story to get through. Isayama is a good author to study for improving your exposition. He conveys so much information with so little real estate. I still struggle and I’ve been at this for years.

I digress, though. Now we have Theo Magath lifting his gun to a crippled Levi in order to cope with the fact that he is A) stranded and B) not even slightly in control of this hopeless situation. So he listens and it turns out all four of these folk want the same thing, which is Zeke’s head on a platter. A very popular menu item to be fair.

For the uninformed here I am a fan of good dark comedy. This panel right here had me howling. As predicted by [checks notes] everybody, Connie did not have the gumption to callously lead this innocent child to their death. In one last effort to preserve his own conscience he explains that his Titanized mother who has been stranded for four years needs to be cleaned. Like you do. Every little detail eight down to his face when he thinks Falco has him made is so well done.

Of course, Armin and Gabi show up just in time. Armin, still haunted by Levi’s choice to save him, makes a bet on Connie’s bond with his squad that he did not seem overly confident in being correct on. Can’t truly call yourself a 104th alum until you’ve accepted your own untimely death.

Skipping ahead a bit now. Floch is very busy being The Worst and if there hasn’t been a better collection of panels to illustrate the moral of the story. Yelena and Onyankapon have been lined up and are set to be publicly executed for their “crimes” against Eldia. The notable bit here for me is the way Isayama depicted the spectators. The have gnarled, twisted visages, some of them literally frothing at the mouth. You see, because extremist nationalism is bad and racism makes you ugly in every sense of the word.

Jean is tasked with gunning down Onyankapon but fires four rounds into the ground instead. This begins a series of Hashtag Machinations that will no doubt become clearer as the story unfolds. Jean and the two POWs escape in the Cart Titan’s mouth and the rest of the 104th leaves to collect Reiner and try to (somehow) stop Eren.

They had to try. Even at the cost of their own security it is difficult to agree with mass genocide. Having Annie on the team will be interesting as she and Eren were close. What’s left for me to wonder is how they plan to reach Eren, physically or otherwise, while he’s like…that. Every month more questions for each answer but after a decade you get used to it.

Stray Thoughts

- Pieck’s surname is Finger? Or is this some Hange headcanon?

- We know Isayama is a big GoT fan. Apologies if this take has appeared elsewhere but an Ackerman keeping their promise seems to be his version of a Lannister paying their debt.

- Years after his death, the spirit of Erwin lives on in these characters. For some, it inspires strength; for others, only guilt.

- I’ve gone back to the interaction between Mikasa and Louise several times to try and get between the lines. Mikasa asking for her scarf back seems self-explanatory since it’s hers but Eren telling the girl to “throw it away” intrigues me. Seems to me that of all the things he had to give up to walk this path that his relationship with Mikasa is what he mourned the most in that cell.

- Always a good time to see Jean being a clever boy.

- Hange/Pieck banter is not something I knew I needed until I read this chapter.

- Hange’s fierce protectiveness of Levi makes more sense when you realize that these two are the only ones left of their original squad. The veterans of the military have all been cleared out, some more violently than others.

- It’s all but stated outright that Ackermans are part Titan. Goes a long way to explain their freakish strength and athleticism and their durability. Evidenced by the fact that Levi was apparently further from death than Zeke after the latter blew them both up.

28 notes · View notes

kyle-valenti · 6 years ago

Text

small towns make for small friends 1/?

for @larenoz and their amazing prompt for milenti background (and future mylex?)

read on ao3

Small desert towns, however sparse and anachronistic, gave away knowledge to the people that dared to live in them. For instance the long stretches of roads in and out of Roswell were used for specific things by the locals. One road led to the airstream and dairy ranches, one led out of the town to better things, one circled tourist attractions for tin foil hat visitors, and one rounded around the various homesteads of people daring enough to lead a small life.

There was nothing too off-putting about seeing a car stopped along the stretch of road to his airstream home; Michael was almost certain it was a townie. Dead cell service littered this specific road, so there was a possibility the driver needed help. Not something he usually cared about, but it was near the end of the month and he was tight on rent after paying up his bill with a stubborn Maria Deluca at the Wild Pony.

He slowed down about a mile back, trying to identify which Roswell citizen he would be dealing with only to have a strong suspicion that the SUV didn’t belong to the usual country folk. Thinking through his mind’s catalog of car owners he kept for business use, he remembered all too late that the grossly shiny vehicle belonged to Kyle Valenti. Just the thought of having to talk to the asshole made Guerin begin to speed up again to drive past, but the more logical part of his brain still pressed… It was doctor's money. It was the chance to screw Valenti over, because there was little chance in hell the doctor remembered anything from the auto shop class the jock used to ditch.

In the end he stopped, but he’s all fired up for a fight even so. Walking up from behind the back of the SUV, he knocked on the driver’s window before reaching it and looking in. When Valenti rolled down the tinted window, he looked like hell. Red eyes, disheveled black hair that mousse no longer held up, and a hollow stare accompanied with a tight jaw.

"Crying over your car?” Michael jabbed. “Promise it's not that pretty.”

"Car's fine," was the exhausted response, no usual arrogant bite to hear. "Thanks for stopping.”

Michael couldn’t help but stare, unprepared for what he had secretly hoped to be a fight. Confusion won over, although mocking still slipped into his tone as he drawled. "Thanks?”

Dark brown eyes stared at him now, and while there was the tiniest traces of anger, there was an overpowering desperation to them as well. "What do you want from me, Guerin?” he asked. “I’m really not in the mood to see more blood, so how about we do the highschool reunion thing where you break my nose later.”

"More blood, huh?” Michael prodded, too caught up in the past to be anything then violent. “Who'd you kill?”

A flicker of pain trembled through Kyle Valenti’s face, activating that one nerve that always stood out, before the man turned on the ignition and sneered at the open road, not even looking at Michael as he rolled up the window and peeled off the dirt and onto the blacktop, leaving Guerin so confused that he thought about the interaction all the way home.

The Wild Pony was one of the few reliefs Michael found in this dusty town, somewhere between the alcohol, Deluca’s constant stream of snarky insults, and a large supply of people to deck whenever the mood struck him. (It struck him often.)

Tonight he felt more calm, having made some good money between fixing a truck and selling some copper wire on the side. The whiskey Maria served him was nice and cold (positive reinforcement for squaring his tab) and the acetone he slipped into it gave him an even better buzz. While he was focusing on the intoxicating feeling and how it calmed down the constant overstimulation of the magnetic fields he was always on the edge of pushing, he noticed an unusual guest at his favorite bar. As far as possible from the bar itself sat Kyle Valenti cornered up in the back of a booth.

Maria was opposite Michael behind the bar for the minute, and he nodded to her. “What’s up with Valenti?”

Her face fell a little, sadness rising up that she hardly ever showed. “He lost a patient during surgery. You know Sam Cooper? His kid. Nine years old, got real messed up on a dirtbike without a helmet.”

Trying not to remember how his last words to Valenti were now deeply horrible, he replied. "Oh. They related?”

“No, Guerin,” Maria snapped at him, judgment all over her face. “People don't need to be related to care about each other. Foreign concept for you, I know.”

“Just a question, Deluca,” he huffed, but she had already sent him another glare before walking off to serve another customer, leaving him to fight any feeling of guilt.

Because he wasn’t guilty. It wasn’t his fucking fault that Valenti sucked at being a surgeon, or that he had stabbed at a fresh wound. Who cared that the asshole jock was finally learning that he wasn’t invincible and that hard times existed?

In the end, Deluca was too good at getting under his skin.

Grabbing his drink, he sauntered over to the corner booth and sat across from Valenti, every nerve of him on edge in case things went sour. All he got in return was Kyle’s confused narrowed eyes and equally as tensed muscles.

"You're a third of the reason Alex Manes left, you know that?” Michael growled out at him. "And full offense, I hate you.”

There wasn't anything Valenti said to that, which was probably best because any excuse wouldn’t go over well.

"That all said, you want a beer?”

Kyle stared, silent still, but exhaled a long breath that’s more or less an agreement. Michael gestured at Deluca, who had been giving them a hawkeyed stare the entire conversation (if you could call it that), and he wasn't surprised when she walked over with the drinks herself, all huffy. Her lips are pursed, and her eyes are cautiously looking back and forth at the interaction, but when the drinks are dropped off and Valenti works on the beer she’s given him she turns to glare down Michael. "You scratch even an inch on my floor if you start fighting and you're banned for a week.”

“Just me?” he asked her, a smug grin on his face. “I'm touched.”

She made a face at him per usual, but he didn't miss the way she left with a small squeeze on Kyle's shoulder. It was quick and soft, but it was also supportive. Michael couldn't imagine being on the receiving end of something like that from Maria Deluca, but the man’s face doesn’t even change. No smile, no lean in, just another small exhale.

It seemed like the only thing Kyle Valenti was capable of doing right now was drinking and breathing in and out. As much as he despised sharing anything deeper than highschool alma mater with him, Michael had to admit he was familiar with the feeling.

When things had dragged out and the doctor was now silently on his fourth beer, Michael gave up. "Gotta get out of your head, Valenti.”

"Ever seen someone die?” Kyle snapped, suddenly coming to life with a violence that he hadn’t expected was boiling underneath after such calm silence. Immediately Michael was on edge, but not because he thought he would be attacked. More because he could sense how much Valenti wanted to attack himself. “Ever felt it?”

Begging his mind not to bring up the memories of Rosa Ortecho that answer that question, he stayed quiet and still for once.

Valenti shook his head, a scoff ready. “I don't know why I ask. If you had, you'd know that's impossible.” Before Michael could even decide on what to say, Kyle added, “Just leave me alone, Guerin. Half the town already hates me for failing, I don’t need you sitting across from me adding reminders on how I suck.”

Partly to break the mood, partly because of the emotional emphasis on the word that translated as simple emphasis, Michael laughed.

It didn't go over well. “Excuse me?”

“How you suck?” Michael commented, a smirk finding its way to his face even if things were about to dissolve into the bar fight that Deluca was worried about.

All Valenti did was glare. “Are you 12?”

“Nah, just bisexual. Much easier to take everything dirty,” he replied, tilting his chin up in a defiant challenge. All he needed was one reason to kick Valenti’s ass despite this meeting and tilt everything back into its normal axis where the world of Roswell contained Michael Guerin and Kyle Valenti as sworn enemies who wouldn’t spend a second in each other’s presence.

But there wasn’t even the tiniest of reaction to the declaration. No judgment, no disgust, no arrogance. Just clear annoyance at his grief being interrupted for something juvenile. "How I suck is none of your business.”

"How, or who…?” Michael asked. Self-loathing for being observant and curious enough to ask would be a problem for later.

Kyle Valenti only stared him down, and with that Michael almost dropped his whiskey. Almost. It was good whiskey. “Well look who joined the 21st century. Karma’s a bitch, right?”

When all the doctor does is look away again, the temper in him flares up. He slammed the glass down heavily on the table, ignored the way that Deluca looked up immediately, and glared so fiercely that Valenti ought to thank god heat vision wasn’t one of his alien powers. He leaned over, his voice a venomous whisper. "Afraid I'm going to rat you out? Call you names? Make your life hell?”

“I’d understand,” was the even response the brunette gave, eyes looking unsure but jaw tight and resolved.

Standing up, Michael decided that Deluca could put this on her tab since it was her fucking fault. Spitefully, he snarled, "I'll wait a week or two,” even though he had no plans to do anything. Maybe it’d put the dick in his place just being scared, or maybe the man was an adult not scared of being out now anyway. All Michael knew was that the irony in Kyle Valenti being bisexual was crippling, and without thinking about anything but all the shit the jock pulled in highschool, he spat out, "you owe me a blowjob”, and left.

#milenti #guerenti #michael guerin #kyle valenti #milenti fic #guerenti fic #michael x kyle #roswell new mexico #roswell new mexico fic #mine #my work

16 notes · View notes