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shadowxamyweek · 3 months

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Hey I know you don’t like the Archie sonic that much, and that is understandable, but I would implore you to at least read Sonic universe 59-62. It is fucking awesome, and you don’t have to read the rest of Archie to understand what is going on. It made me bow to the king.

Hey @sharkrad08222222! I didn't forget this ask, I just needed a day off to sit down and read XD

Honstly, I'm glad you sent this in. You're right- I'm not the biggest fan of Archie, but I've got to give credit where credit is due- Shadow Fall is a lot of fun. If anyone else would like to read it, you should check out this Applebees gift card. ( @biolizardboils I'm never gonna get over that joke XD)

So anyway, here's Shadow Fall

As an aside, I'm really glad that many of the original Archie Sonic crew were able to move over to jobs at IDW and stay on Sonic. I cannot imagine the horror of watching that whole... everything... happen. As someone who has been in a similar (abet still different) position within my own field, it's a genuine nightmare. Furthermore, the fact that many who made that move from Archie to IDW are still there, and that we haven't heard any ill-will from those who have since left/retired- maybe it's the optimist in me, but I want to believe that everyone's doing okay at IDW, and that's good.

Anyway, you didn't ask, but I decided to kinda make this *a thing.* So many people, myself included, sometimes squint at Archie/IDW and go eeeeeeeeh a lot. That does the entire story a disservice though. There's so much fun in these comics. Better yet, you can feel when the comic team is having fun, too. There's moments where the dialog or the art is just immaculate and you can tell that people were really excited about these parts. It's a joy to see.

So, I'm gonna talk about some of the joys I saw in this, or things I just really liked and kinda would like to see again.

1- Shadow and Team Dark's relation to G.U.N.

I like this. I like this a lot. I like Shadow not being afraid to be a snarky bitch, I like the fact that Shadow doesn't really enjoy working with G.U.N, I like the fact that G.U.N doesn't trust Shadow let alone the rest of Team Dark really. It's an alliance by necessity. Each member of Team Dark stays together because they WANT to stay together, but they only stay with G.U.N because, for one reason or another, they have deemed that their best possible option for now. There's a palpable tension that has a lot of history and can still be used in really fun ways like this. I deeply enjoy it.

Speaking of Team Dark-!

2- We Love a Bunch of Freaks

You're honor, that's a family. I love the dynamics. I love the trust and camaraderie and banter. I love the way they rely on one another and make sure to be there for one another. They took what is visible in the games and cranked it up to a 12, but it feels natural, especially when you take into consideration just how LONG these comics had gone on for. I talk about the history between Team Dark and G.U.N, but there is a history between Shadow, Rouge, and Omega as individual people too, let alone being a team under the thumb of a military force.

This is love right here, and I love it.

3- I Missed the Critter Smiling

Shadow smiles... so much in Archie. I love it. And for those of you who are confused and might think this is out of character, I point again to SA2. He smiles rather frequently in that game, even if it's a smile that says 'oh I'm going to enjoy beating your ass.' He also smiles a bit in Heros, Battle, Rivals, and SHtH05, though not as much.

4- The Art, Story, and OCs are Fun

The art is FUN! That first set of panels in particular- I love that. What a clever way to set that up! That's what I mean by you can feel that people were enjoying themselves working on this! Plus, this comic doesn't shy away from horror. I know we got that (beautifully done I might ad) in the Zombot arc, Scrapnik Island spinoff, and Dr. Starline with Surge and Kit. Like, whoever liked horror and had the inspiration for this stuff at Archie either made the transfer to IDW or heavily influenced some of the people on that team, because it's the same vibe. It's a classic, timeless sort of horror that I enjoy most, and it's very palpable here.

As an aside, they did a REALLY good job of making you like these new characters off the drop. I'm not saying I don't like the OCs of IDW (although I don't like Lanolin and, frankly, I don't think I'm SUPPOSE to like Lanolin. She's that perfect example of wanting more to be right than she does to help and I LOVE THAT because you get those people even in the best of causes but anyway). Eclipse though? As soon as that freak showed up on page and I read what he was saying, I loved the little gremlin. You feel for him, and for the Black Arms, which is excellent. They are still CLEARLY the bad guys- they don't HAVE to eat people, they CHOOSE to- but like... damn- you wish there was a way to make things right, and when you watch it all fall apart, you grieve a little. I'm sure if I read more of Archie I'd find more OC's I was meh about but it's just something I was thinking about as I kept going back and looking at Eclipse's body language and facial expressions. Like- look at this bugger-

He lobbied on Shadow's behalf for Black Death to NOT kill him because he so desperately wanted a 'big brother' who could join his 'family' and meet all the new babies and everything. He wanted so badly for Shadow to like him and like being with the Black Arms and make a new life and lkajsdfl;jasd augh....

5- Shadow feels like Shadow

Oh fuck yes.

Mind you, there are other times in Archie where the characters DON'T feel like a natural progression of their game counterparts. I've seen and read moments where Archie Shadow feels very... wrong... but in this? You're 100% right. They are VERY themself in this and it's a treat, a little hard candy for the soul to suck on. I am delighted.

6- It's The Little Things

Maybe it's just because I get the volumes and not the individual comics, but I don't see the fanart submissions or the Q&As. You use to find those sorts of things in all kinds of publications. I remember when I was getting my first game magazines in the mail, there would be stuff like that. It was always fun to page through.

I would adore if they brought those back, but I can also see why they wouldn't. While I think the fandom has gotten much more relaxed in some ways, in others, it's still nutty and weird and, frankly, a little terrible sometimes, but maybe that's just all fandoms. I dunno.

Anyway, it was nice to see that sort of stuff again. I missed it <3

So yeah, this was a lot of fun to read

Thanks again for the recommendation. I deeply enjoyed it.

It's wild too, because there are so many people who are now a part of Sonic's comic history that I remember on here just... goofing off. @bumblekast's Ian Flynn went from working as a writer at Archie to being a head writer at IDW, but I remember reading random posts of theirs online. @chibijenhen and @spiritsonic I remember being on Deviantart and following them. I remember finding bits and pieces of @tysonhesse's work online. I just, all these people, kinda showing me that, if I wanted, I could give a shot at tossing my hat into that ring, too. I ended up going a different way career wise, but now, I'm seeing all these awesome people AGAIN in an online space I'm in and going, 'You know... maybe I can try this for real.'

I don't know. It's just... it's been giving me a lot of hope, and hope is nice, especially when you're stubborn enough to foster it and give it reason to grow.

Maybe one day, that'll be my name in the credits, if I work hard and I'm lucky.

Keep your fingers crossed for me, yeah? <3

#archie #shadow the hedgehog #rouge the bat #e 123 omega #shadow fall #op rambles #thoughts #sharkrad08222222

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etirabys · 1 year

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retrospective on a recent mild brain crash

here's how much fiction I've been writing this year. About mid-month I hit a good clip – between then and now I averaged 1400 words a day

Most of that was on one project. Most of my projects are speculative, "I have one cool idea, let's see where it goes" – they go nowhere, I'm mostly okay with that. This one I had a clear idea of the overall shape. I named the file "sufyan short.md" like one of those people in high infant mortality cultures who give babies placeholder names because they don't want death to notice that there's something to cut down

anyway it's a novella

The only two novellas I've ever completed, I got out in like, a week or two, putting everything else on my life on hold. So I had a vague background belief that if I didn't complete this project this month it was doomed. I don't think I explicitly said to myself, "It's this month or bust," because that would be an Unhelpful Self Pressuring Thought / Irrational Catastrophizing. But it turns out I believe that anyway & have been acting like I believe it. Taking stock of all the hours and energy I have and allocating it precisely between software job, novella, partners

I crashed (spent a few days feeling simultaneously fine & on the verge of some implosion, then rapid onset depressive episode yesterday), and have felt kind of mystified by this whole thing. It's been long enough since I pushed myself this hard this long that I don't quite know what to take away. Imagine if much of your life was dedicated to building the tower of babel, and each time god demolished it around ten stories. Then, somehow, things really came together and you got a hundred stories up. Then god came around to demolishing it. The landing, of course, was harder than usual. And you blink and try to take some lesson away from it – did you go too fast? was god mad about the workers not having enough breaks? was the foundation unsound? – but it all sounds like nonsense when you're still trying to process "we got to a hundred stories this time? we only do that about once every five years! should we just try the same thing over again?"

The crash leadup felt like... just... being obsessed with my project. There's a sliding scale from "manic about project, words gushing out of me" to "not making any progress but anxiously thinking about it all the time, turning it over and over in my mind to find the next entry point from which I can grow it further". When I slid from the former to somewhere in the middle, I didn't notice that this was bad

When I got consciously anxious about the project I was like "oh that's silly, let's shut down that anxious thought" but I didn't take the time to look at the… non-explicit/verbal ways I was anxious about it? Like, my attention was constantly rapid-flickering back to the novella even when I wasn't working on it

Scheduling explicit blocks of time for writing hasn't worked for me in the past, so my writing strategy is "when my brain spits out the next bit that it wants to write, immediately sit down and get going". So I'm frequently in a state of "not doing anything in particular but open to the urge". So each individual instance of rapid-flickering didn't seem bad, because it could be the prelude to gathering enough momentum that I sit down and pound out another 2000. It only looks bad when I step back and notice the ratio of thinking to writing is quite high. I've been quite productive the past two weeks, but my efficiency was a lot lower than Carnot efficiency.

And because I was mostly paying attention to output and not efficiency, I went "things are going really great! keep cranking!" and then, splat.

Anyway, takeaway thoughts/ideas from the latest wreckage of Babel.

This may not be possible, but the best way to reduce "it's now or never" anxiety is to trust myself to come back to the project. If I had to spit out a reasonable timeframe for someone else to complete this novella, I'd say 3 months. But because I don't think I can trek that long, I gave myself like 10 days. The better I am at sticking to long term projects, the easier I can drive myself

It's fine to be obsessive, but maybe set aside 4 hours in a day when I'm absolutely not allowed to think about it?

This has never worked for me, but maybe I should try just blocking out time every day to work on the fic. I'm in the unusual-for-me position of having a lot of scenes left but few unknowns – where you'd expect mechanical plodding to be most effective.

One issue I have is that I have a lot of "work" activities and "zombie" activities but few "relaxing" activities, so when I have some energy but don't want to push myself, I end up either being a zombie (which I then regret) or working (which burns me out). I suspect the intermediate level is consuming fiction.

My 1-2 nights of insomnia a week are a big deal. It is time to hold my nose and grovel at psychiatrists until one gives me Ambien. I'm guessing this is one of the highest impact things I can do for health and productivity.

Similarly 'low hanging' fruit is dramatically improving my cardiovascular fitness. I've been plateaued on the c25k schedule for a few months. More on this in a separate post.

#rambl #emo depletion #emo repletion #infinite monkey

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nils-little-freakshow · 11 months

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Interview With A...?

The camera feed crackles to life once more, after a long bout of silence. You're surprised to see this old show of death make a return, but Nil's smile is still toeing that familiar old line between mania and the façade of motherliness.

"Hello hello, darlings! It's been a while, hasn't it? But we'll ignore that for now, I have a little program I've organized for you all! I think you'll find it quite useful, for, ah... writing purposes, yes. Purely fictional things, just like this is, no?"

She sends you a playful wink, before lifting the camera off it's stand to walk your view over to her cabinets in that familiar old basement that's seen many a horrible thing. There's several bottles of chemicals, mostly cleaning products, and a few medical things as well.

She lifts a bottle of hydrogen peroxide up so it's easily visible in the camera, giving her audience beyond the screen a wide smile.

"The first thing you should always remember for your projects, is that this will destroy bloodstains in a way that makes them no longer reactive to UV light, making it harder for police to find evidence. You'll want to wipe up the majority of it first, of course, but after you've cleaned it up normally so it's no longer visible to the naked eye, go over it again with the peroxide, twice or even three times if it was sitting there a while."

She sets the bottle of peroxide down, then points the camera at a bottle of bleach.

"Now, everyone knows you shouldn't mix bleach and ammonia while cleaning, because you'll create mustard gas, but did you know mixing it with rubbing alcohol will create chloroform? Just a few tablespoons making it's way into only a cup of bleach could spell disaster for an unlucky soul, so definitely don't make that mistake, and especially don't mix them in glass jars that are easily breakable on impact, ok~?"

She giggles to herself, closing her cabinet and turning to the incinerator in the corner.

"Now, I know it might not be reasonable for you're, uh, main character to have one of these, but any especially hot fire will do, or one that burns long enough - if you're someone who burns trash anyways, the smell of that might even mask the scent of charring bone a little bit. Fire is great for getting rid of the teeth, especially if you crush them up a little bit first to be even smaller. If you can't do that, though, something known as 'piranha solution' - a mixture of sulfuric acid and, you guessed it, peroxide again! - will typically dissolve anything organic and porous enough with enough time. Makes a decent drain cleaner, too, if you've got something super backed-up... So long as your pipes are plastic and not metal. It'll eat that, too."

Next, she turns the camera to the countertop's end, and you can see a meat grinder hanging over the edge with a large bin positioned underneath the extrusion spout, surprisingly clean and in good condition. It looks well-maintained.

"Now, one of these will make disposal for your main character very easy, depending on how much they love stray animals or hate their neighbors. Free ground meat is typically welcomed by both, though, of course, one of those groups wouldn't be thrilled to find out what it really is. I have a hand crank grinder, but you might find electric to be easier and faster for your projects. Not everyone can live in a ghost town nobody remembers, after all! I have time that you might not."

She sends another playful wink to the camera, holding up her finger in front of her lips as if she was letting you in on a joke.

"Though, I don't need animals or neighbors to act as disposal for me, of course. I can do that myself."

She walks the camera back over to it's stand, setting it down and taking a seat in front of it, propping her chin up in one hand.

"Of course, you don't need to grind the whole body - organs have tons of market value, if you know what I mean, and there's people in this world desperate to save their loved ones who might not be able to otherwise. What a cruel world we live in, where innocents die to feed the rich, no?"

She gives you a smile, a knowing one. It doesn't quite reach her eyes, the fire behind them quiet but strong, keeping the smile from being read as genuine. A silent message - but do you understand it?

The moment passes, though, and she waves a hand as if to banish the tension that had gathered in the air, continuing to speak.

"Of course, one person can only do so much before raising suspicion and needing to step back, let time pass. A group though, especially a large one spread over a state or two, or five, or twenty... Well, now that would make for an interesting story to write, wouldn't it my little authors?"

She reaches out to the camera, hand hovering near the power button, but on your screen it almost gives the impression of her resting her hand on your head, or maybe shoulder.

"... Write the story you want to see in the world, ok my darlings? I look forward to hearing about them."

With that, the screen goes dark again as she shuts off the camera, and you're left with loads of information and subtext to absorb and think over. You could choose to ignore all this, of course. That was always an option from the very first time you stumbled upon her broadcast - she never made you stay. You were always free to leave, forget about it all.

... But you won't, will you?

#a broadcast for the masses #dark fiction #evil!nil blog #evil!nil has always said acab and eat the rich but now seemed like a good time to reinforce that part of her character #in a totally silly and fun way that is pure fiction :3 #very very silly fictional character :3

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the-coping-dragon · 1 year

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I uh, I’ve had this blog long enough that I think it’s reasonable to use it as a “writing things down to keep track of thoughts and ideas.” Anyways, I...do have OCD tendencies.

I remember seeing OCD portrayed on a “medical drama” show. A surgeon kept washing his hands after surgery, and everyone just had to adapt to “Yeah that surgeon stays very late sometimes, washing his hands. It’s OCD. You can just go about your business. It’s okay.” And I thought back to how, sometimes, when I wash my hands, they just don’t feel RIGHT afterwards.

I won’t describe it lol! I don’t want to encourage those thoughts. I haven’t had that particular compulsion in a while, and I do not suffer for its absence.

Anyways. OCD, ADHD, ASD, IDK. Sorry if that sounds like someone a wine mom says when she’s having mimosas with her friends and venting about her kids. Something makes it hard for me to stop or start certain tasks. Sometimes, it’s like, “I know exactly what I want to do, and how to do it. I can envision myself doing it perfectly. I really want to do it. Why am I still sitting here?” Sometimes it’s like “I’m ready to stop with this task. Why am I picking up another part of the task? I want to stop. Why am I getting more supplies? I want to stop. I want to eat, and use the bathroom, and lay down. It’s midnight and I’m sitting outside tying grass together, like I have been doing for the last 7 hours. I want to go inside now.”

Sometimes it feels like there must be a button you press in your brain, when you’re ready to do a task that you’ve been thinking about. Maybe it switches the focus, from internal planning, to external doing. I don’t have one of those. Mine is like a broken car window crank. I struggle with it. Sometimes I can’t get it to budge. Sometimes I can move it, but tire out before finishing. Sometimes it moves well enough, but doesn’t actually move the window. Sometimes the window just falls into the door, freed of the mechanism and drawn down by welcoming gravity. Is it obsession? Am I obsessed with doing the task, so i cannot stop? Or the other way--obsessing over planning, so that I can’t begin?

Usually when I get stuck, my brain struggles for a while, and I feel helpless and stupid, and then my brain will sneakily wander to something less distressing.

The “wandering brain” is a step up from “sits in a pile of self-loathing.” It’s been a long effort, to reassure my brain that it’s allowed to take care of itself/me. I used to keep it (and myself) in a mobile iron maiden, and wandering was met with severe repercussions. And I did it for my own good, in the end. In retrospect, maybe things would have been okay if I hadn’t tried so hard. Maybe if I’d broken down, others would have stepped in to help. But I was doing my best to survive a very very dangerous life. I forgive myself for it, and even thank myself for the effort.

Wandering brain is good though :3 It’s been nice, to watch it. Like birdwatching. Or watching a pet cat. What does it like? Where does it tend to go? What does it do when it’s ready to rest? How does it behave when it needs something? Do I have hobbies? (Yes) Can I remember how to feel thirst and hunger and pain? (At least slightly). Is there a way to start over with scary things, to set aside the bad experiences, and seek happiness in things that frighten me, like cooking, like going outside, like opening up to someone? (Yes)

I think giving my brain the freedom of willpower is maybe contributing to “gets stuck doing/not doing something.” Maybe there is a part of me that doesn’t want to do/not do something? Maybe it’s a self-preserving part. It’s less effort to continue than to change. Maybe my brain settles into an activity, so deeply, that it can’t get out.

But, I do enjoy weaving grass. It’s one of the more pleasant things to get stuck on. Sometimes I’m stuck doing a chore, and even once the chore is done, I invent new rules that create new chores. “I washed all the dishes. But I should organize the cups. By usage, and breakability, and microwave-safe-ness.”

“I swept the kitchen, but I should sweep under all the appliances. And move the table to get under the feet. And actually, I should re-sweep the entire kitchen, sweeping only towards the north, to make sure I got as much dirt out of the (north-south running) gaps as possible.”

What’s the difference, between obsession and stuck? “Stuck” feels like I am struggling to ACTIVATE the next task. Obsession feels like I am struggle to DEACTIVATE a task. Maybe, I get stuck, and my brain stands still for a moment, and then goes “well, if we’re unable to do the next task, might as well loop back and work on the previous task more.”

I think I have one BIG and SPRAWLING obsession: efficiency. That was not easy to discover! So I hope it’s correct, because I’d hate to waste more energy on a conclusion that isn’t even correct.

I will invest ENDLESS time and energy into something, if my brain tells me, “This will be less work later on.”

If I rearrange the cups by usage, breakability, and microwave-safe-ness, then LATER, I can simply grab a cup from the bottom shelf, where I placed commonly used, durable, microwave-safe cups. I won’t have to reach over that one cup that I like but don’t use often because it isn’t microwave safe. That one goes on the second shelf up, where I can enjoy seeing it when I open the cabinet, and use it when circumstances are correct.

But if I spend two hours reorganizing and reorganizing--maybe if I had a shelf here, maybe if I put a hook here to hang one from, maybe if I swap this category with that one then I can also fit this other one on this shelf--is it really less effort in the end? How long does it take to grab a cup from a non-optimal shelf? 2.6 seconds, instead of the 1.9 seconds it takes to get one from an optimally sorted shelf? How long did I spend just now, calculating reasonable estimations for that? If it really saves 0.7 seconds each time I get a cup, then I’d need to get a cup so many times, that it saves more than two hours. How many fucking cups is that? 60 seconds to a minute, 60 minutes to an hour--3,600 seconds per hour, doubled, 7,200 seconds in two hours, so...? Is that 10,000 cup-grabs, to justify the laborious perfectionist sorting?

I usually get 0 cups dirty, net, per day. I use one for coffee and rinse it out and put it by the coffee pot. I don’t even GRAB CUBS from the SHELF most days. if I grabbed one per day, it would take me--oh my god--28 years to grab that many cups? That’s so long that it’s almost worth going back and factoring in leap years. That’s too damn long!

It’s just really hard to ask myself, “Is this worth it?” My brain is so long-term oriented. “If we reduce the work now, then eventually it’ll pay off.” It’s like that fucking kid and the marshmallow, except my brain is REFUSING to eat the two marshmallows and keeps saying, “I am struggling not to eat; thus, I will be rewarded for this,” and the adults are like, “WE ONLY HAVE TWO MARSHMALLOWS. FUCKING EAT THEM.” And the kids like, “Actually, if i refuse long enough, you’ll probably go to a store and buy more.” And the adults are like, “STOP GOING ON A HUNGER STRIKE. EAT THE FUCKING MARSHMALLOWS.”

So...

ANYWAYS. What the fuck was I talking about. What was my point? Oh, right. I am obsessed with some theoretically all-rewarding idea of efficiency, so my brain harasses me with “It’ll save someone some work, some day,” until I finally do whatever it wants so it stops fucking telling me about the fucking Agavero Orange Liquer case in the broken box in the back of the warehouse. I was a cashier. I didn’t get paid to worry about that. But it ate at me, for weeks, until i finally got someone else to do it for me (I wasn’t allowed to do it, so I “bet” a different employee $5 that they couldn’t find it. They tried turning down the $5 afterward, saying they were happy to do something so small like that for me, but I gave it to them anyways, because they saved me from obsessing over it.).

“Someone wants that product, and they’re waiting to see it on the shelf. And we have it. It’s just logical and efficient if we make sure to shelf our wares, instead of losing them in the warehouse.” Yeah, true! But you didn’t get paid to do that.

Instead, when I got really overstuffed with those feelings, I would tell myself, “Okay, if you have the time to freak out over the Agavero, then you have time to crochet.” And I would crochet at my register. And it instantly made the panicy feeling go away.

Sometimes I wonder if it’s just about “feeling like I am working on something.” That feeling is POWERFUL y’know. “Why didn’t you remember to do X?” “I was busy.” ...

...

Oops! I think I found the ~source~ of the ~problem~ (or at least, a current generator of the problem’s power)

So one of the things that I am CONSTANTLY finding at the root of my issues: my mom’s suicidal behaviors during my childhood.

I know people internalize their parent’s stuff, without the parent necessarily being suicidal. But... I mean, like. I didn’t try to internalize “I look ugly,” and my mom’s suicide attempts didn’t affect that. That was just because she kept forcing me to wear makeup, by applying it to my face while I was practicing driving with my learner’s permit. (Forcing someone to wear makeup is a little easier, when they are busy learning to drive, because if they protest, you can accuse them of risking your lives!) So; that wasn’t really given power by the suicide attempts.

But, on two of the most vivid memories, she tried to kill herself because I forgot stuff. I forgot to check my phone (I had to wait about 20 minutes for her to get me from school, so I’d go to the classes I was struggling with to ask questions and get help; and lost track of time sometimes, and my phone was on silent since any phone that rang during class would be sent to the office). And I forgot to...put a pair of pants...somewhere. I forget where she’d asked me to put them, but I forgot.

--Squints suspiciously at my current lack of memory, wondering if it also is faulty for the same reason I have fibromyalgia, “they got overworked and now they’re broken.” Which also happened to my pancreas (though that one resolved after I moved out of my mom’s house) and, perhaps, several other organ systems. OH MY GOD I AM LOOKING AT MY FUCKING UTERUS AND REMEMBERING HOW I WAS ALWAYS GLAD THAT MY PERIOD SKIPPED WHEN I WAS REALLY STRESSED, BECAUSE IT WAS ONE LESS THING TO DEAL WITH. Hm. Okay, that’ll be fun to research later--

So--what the fuck was i saying this time lol. Uhhhhh obsession with efficiency, via obsession with being ‘busy’ enough, via obsession with having a REALLY good excuse if anyone gets suicidal over something I did (which might prevent the suicide, or at least let me cope with it without blaming myself too much).

...I remember telling someone about one of her suicide attempts. I said something like, “Do you still like me, even though I almost let my mom kill herself?” In my brain, that’s what happened. My forgetfulness “let” it almost happen. And I remember they looked so haunted, and said, “That was not your fault.” And I remember the way it shattered something in me, something I’d been using to keep myself going; and the freedom of feeling it fall out from under me; and the freedom of hitting the ground and realizing i was okay and i could learn to stand without it.

I remember sitting and thinking, as a kid, “How am I going to survive the weight of my mom’s suicide, if she does it? How will I eat breakfast, go to school, breathe air, lay down at night, knowing I am responsible for her suicide?”

Oh my god I am Simba alksalksdjalkdjla ?????????

Ohhhh, my brain is telling me a joke, to gift me with a happy feeling, to keep me from sinking into a sadness. Thank you brain. I appreciate the hilarious joke. The fact that you even made a joke about the way I was trying to plan ways to not kill myself if my mom killed herself--that shock alone tugged me quite a ways back from the somber depths of sadness. So... Yeah, thank you for the help. I am not mad at you, so do not be afraid to try to help more in the future. You are enjoyed and welcome here.

I do remember planning for her suicide. I knew my options about who i could live with, and had a very hard time picking between a violent freedom or a comforting isolation. I had a plan for which schools i might end up at, depending on who i lived with, and depending on the stability of the housing situation i chose. I even planned for being turned away from everyone. The things they said... You’re supposed to believe people, right? It’s rude to even consider that they are lying. In my family anyways. Especially when someone was always saying some weird shit like “You can hear what song comes next on the radio. You have better senses than others, and can sense the radio waves. It’s because we are direct descendants from Jesus.”

So if that family member thinks that certain minority groups should be “rounded up on an island and shot” then, you account for the possibility that they might not take you in after you made your mother commit suicide, and the possibility of them murdering you.

So, anything to make life easier during all of that, yknow? So maybe i developed a little shield, a little “I’m busy--working--doing important and worthwhile things--it’s okay that I’m not doing other things--even if theyre important--and I am not doing wrong, even if I could be doing something else.”

So what (referencing a song called so-what because familiarity is comforting)

So maybe I should ponder on my obsessions and stuck-nesses, and see if any of them arise from a deep-seated fear of death due to guilt of feeling like i contributed to some bad event or condition.

That’s hard, because that s a lot to keep up with.

#originalpostbycopingdragon

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brick1458 · 5 months

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Destiny falls in love

( description)my first 101 dalmatian street story

includes adventure, romance and much more

I've already seen the ships I've noticed through the series so I thought I'd try something new this book takes place after the series where the Dalmatian family goes on vacation because their last one had complete peril in it and after defeating Cruella they all decided to take a trip to a beachy resort in Paris but what happens when destiny of the triple d falls in love with a German shepherd with a French accent? find out in 101 Dalmatian Street a real vacation

here's what I have so far for my story also I decided to change the title so instead of just a single episode or one parter I decided to change it into one big episode kind of like a movie but anyway here's the new preview and I will add more to it )

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It was a normal and tiring early morning as the pups had just come back home from being locked up by cruella de vil as Doug had pressed the paw scanner to unlock the door as a few of the pups let out a few yawns as dolly and Dylan tierdly went into the door

Dolly" man I am so glad we're back home and not have to worry about those or any other de vil's " she said yawning as Dylan came in after her

Dylan" your telling me I think may have sprained my back a little from that jump" he groaned as he hears a Crack popping sound as he panicked as he checked behind him" oh no I think I just heard my back pop out of place and pulled a muscle cramp

Dolly smirked as she decided to playfully tease her brother as she rolled her eyes before snickering " oh bro please you ? Pulling a muscle cramp uh I think you'd at least need a bit of muscle in order to pull one" she said laughing getting a few of the others laughing including triple d

Digby" oh uh sorry about that Dylan t that was me " he said chuckling as he had popped out of another hole he dug as he had a stick in his mouth as he snapped it in half causing Dylan to jump as his other siblings kept laughing

Dylan" hey that's not funny dolly" he said groaning at his sister's laughter " I could end up in the hospital and when I get home you'd have to take care of me " he smirked as dolly quickly stopped laughing

Dolly" ok this isn't fun for me anymore " she said as she panicked a bit" but if you did hurt yourself of course I'd look after you " she said as the last 3 pups came in which was triple d

Destiny " so glad to be out of those disgusting cages and back home now we can finally get some beauty sleep

Dallas" Ugh ikr you totes said it Destiny

Deja vu" we could like totally use a vacation and hopefully it doesn't end like our last one" she said as the pups all went to get some sleep as their parents over heard as they looked at each other

Doug" hmm you know deja vu has a point maybe we should have another vacation it would certainly give the pups a surprise and let them relax after what we've all been through for the past two days

Delilah " hmm your right Doug the pups deserve a break after they've been so dramatized but our budget's a little short right now it could take weeks before we have enough money to surprise them with a trip

Doug" then why Don't we start giving the kids allowances to help with paying for our vacation

Delilah " oohhh excellent idea and I know just the place" she said smiling as the two went off to bed

( few weeks later)

It was 7:35 in the morning as Dj had woken up a bit earlier as he couldn't sleep as he went to plug in his turn tables " Time to get the perfect song started to get these pups up" he smirked as he flipped a disk in as he cranked the volume up a bit as the music was blasting out of the amplifiers waking up the other pups as dj had his headphones connected to the table

Get yourself on the dance floor right now

Get your music on I know you know how

Let the rhythm take over your two feet

There's nothing like a fine fresh beat (Come on)

Just grab a friend and go

Let's play

[Chorus: All]

Music, it really keeps me movin'

Let's get going, all right

Our smiles are showing

Music, it puts the groove in what you're doin'

Let's get excited, all right

Don't try to fight it

We play in harmony, in the key of you and me, it's music

Dallas suddenly woke up as she and the other pups felt the room shake as they all groaned as they were all on the floor as Dallas blew her ears out her face marching up to dj" dj " she said calling to him as he couldn't hear her over the music " dj ! " she yelled as she took his head set off his ears

Dj was to busy in the groove playing his mix tapes until the record scratched to a stop as his head set was taken off" hey what happened I was right in the middle of a great groove

Deja vu" yeah well your groove" she said sounding sarcastically " woke us all up after it shook the house up what were you even doing playing music this early anyway?

Dj" oh didn't you guys know I over heard mom and dad last night saying something about a trip I don't know where we're going but wherever it is it could be exciting and I didn't want you guys to over sleep so I decided to play one of my new albums that I've made with the perfect song to wake you guys up

Meanwhile Delgado was up siting in the living room playing his video games as his eyes were turning red from lack of sleep as he was talking to himself " I've been up for over 22 hours but that isn't going to stop me from beating the game

Meanwhile Destiny had just gotten up as she went to the living room and sat with him as she watched him" need some help bro?" She asked as she continued watching him" what video game is this anyway?

Delgado turned to her , his eyes red and dry as they were cracking a bit from dehydration and from lack of sleep " rail riders toughest game there is

Destiny " woah bro hold it did you not get any sleep?" She asked holding a mirror" look at you if you ever want to get a girlfriend someday you do not want to be like that why don't you go and freshen up a bit you look like a zombie the way you are now

Delgado " oh my dog" he said looking in the mirror seeing his eyes cracking " how long was I up" he asked in shock

Destiny " about almost more than 3 days and no one shoube able to go up than 3 days with no sleep trust me - I usually get 15 hours of beauty

sleep everyday

Delgado sat there wide eyes as he saw the horror in what he has done and grabbed Destiny by the shoulders and started shaking her"...call Delilah, she may be my Mom too , but ask her if she has any eyedrops.

Diesel: "Hey Delgado hi triple D" he said as he came in panting as he looked at Delgado " ooohhh looks like you've been playing a lot of games

Destiny " ok 1st let go of me and calm down before you start being like dontae " she said calmly as he put her down" and second don't worry 1 got them right

here" she said holding a small bottle

now if I were you I'd first put water in my eyes then gently dab them with a towel then the eye drops and finally getting some sleep " she said saving and

quiting his game before shutting it down besides your battery's almost low" she said as she went to charge his controller

Delgado "well im going to go say hi to her." He said standing up but walking into the wall.

"Ow, also hi diesel.'

Destiny " actually I haven't seen Dallas

or deja vu anywhere all-day

Delgado was rubbing his eyes I know, just wanna leave the room *walks out but still stumbling a little*

Diesel : "strange where are they?

Destiny "I don't know " she said looking at Delgado " here bro let me help you she said wrapping a paw around him to help him get to mom

Meanwhile after a few hours of waiting after helping Delgado

destiny decided to try out Delgado 's game as she decided to help him get past a few of the extra hard levels as she started giggling " nothing wrong with helping a tired soul our while their getting some sleep

Delgado" woah woah not so fast little sis" he said taking the controller holding up a paw" "Gaming is serious business destiny." He stated as he looked at her" one slip up and I'll have to start from level one

Destiny "I know that cause whenever my sisters and 1 aren't shooting action shot ads I usually play video games and always get the high score who knows might be better then you big brother

she smirked confidently

Delgado's eyes widen hearing about thisshock as he turnedaway waving his paw as a record scratched to a stop "whoa whoa hold up. Delgado said. A are you seriously thinking you can take me in any game?

Destiny " what's the matter scared of a challenge or are you afraid to lose to your little sister " she smirked as Dallas and deja vu came in with the others

Dallas" tell him you can take him on in the ultimate smash arena video game

Delgado "are you challenging the pup that has beaten countless records? I mean come on dallas is talking about the ultimate fighting game and i doubt a cute princess like you knows anything about fighting " Delgado said grabbing another controller glaring at his sister

Destiny " oh you know I am bring it on" she smirked as she grabbed the second controller as she inserted a fighting game as she chose a wolf warrior with a Cresent blade for a weapon with a special move

Delgado 's eyes widen when he saw destiny's avatar as he looked at her with a shocked look"i did not expect an avatar like that." Delgado said as he looked at her" where did you even get an avatar like that from?

Destiny " oh its simple I actually unlocked him after many battles working my way up and here's another thing you should always expect the unexpected now who are you going to be as ? she smirked as she pressed a button locking her character in as she had also created a team of 3

Delgado " hmm let's see what characters do I want to use" he asked himself as he started getting a little worried that his sister had already chosen a scary avatar as he nervously looked at her as he looked back at the screen choosing a red character for his team's leader and a green samurai character and a yellow ninja character as he locked his team in

Destiny " prepare to lose" she started pressing a few buttons as her character used a quick attack slicing his character multiple times as she moved her character back as her character started spinning his weapon creating a wave of Cresent moons causing more critical damage as she blocked one of his attacks" that all you got bro ?

Delgado was amazed at how much damage she was doing to him as this was her first time battling him " w what the you have all these incredible moves w what moves do I have? " He asked as he started pressing a few buttons as his ninja character pulled out a hammer of some sort as it caused an earthquake as his leader character placed his weapon sticking from the ground as his leader grabbed on and spun around it as destiny 's character started taking more damage

Destiny " not bad but check it" she pressed a button as the screen showed a full moon with a wolf howling as her character 's eyes were glowing giving him more power as her character turned into a dark black and purple streak tossing his character into the air as her character repeatedly sliced through him taking more hits on him til his health was nearly empty

Meanwhile Dylan was getting everyone's bowls ready for breakfast as he then saw his mom and dad coming in

Delilah" oh Dylan there you are can you get the others to gather in the kitchen we have big news we want to share with you all in a family meeting

Dylan " oh sure thing mom" he said as he cleared his throat calling out one of their trigger words BREAKFAST!

( background pups) breakfast breakfast breakfast breakfast " they all chanted as a massive tidal wave of white with spots came running running down the stairs as all the pups were gathered in the kitchen

Meanwhile after a few hours of driving to the airport Dallas was struggling and strangling cause she was hot, the seat belt started feeling too tight around her as she tried sitting in different directions before finally groaning

Dallas " uuuggghhhh I'm so bored there's got to be something we can do on this boring trip to the airport besides I have to get out of this thing" she said stretching the seat belt before looking at her paw" I'm totes getting a paw cramp from sitting here so long

Delilah " hmm maybe you kids should try doing something to keep your minds entertained? I mean look at your brother dj" she said as the screen zoomed up into the back row as dj was laying on his back next to Deepak who was meditating as dj was sitting back listening to music on his phone with ear buds " sitting quietly and minding his business it's like he and Deepak ar in their own little worlds in different ways

Little did anyone know that while dj was listening to his music he was also overhearing his mother's conversation with Dallas as he smiled , pulled out his ear buds while pausing his music " ohhh does singing or listening to music count as a road trip activity?

Delilah " actually dj it does playing music is a great thing to do on road trips or vacation

Dawkins " in fact there's a highly 99.8% that some people consider music and songs to be quite important in their lives as they see it as a kind of medical aroma therapy that calms and relaxes the body and mind

Destiny " sounds like Deepak when he's meditating" she said jokingly as she rolled her eyes as a few of the other pups started laughing and giggling

Deepak on the other hand looked quite annoyed that his brothers and sisters were laughing at one of his many quirks he looked at Destiny " you know I can hear you right?" He said with his eyes closed as he was still mediating

Dj then it's a good thing I had Dawkins make some upgrades " he said smirking

Delilah " Wait? What! " she asked in concern as she turned around and saw dj running to the very back where no one was sitting as he turned a dial as the whole empty back row flipped and turned into a massive dj station as a big radio tower emerged from the second level of the bus much to the other pups shock especially Dolly's amazement and Dylan's concern

Dylan " dj w w wh what is this thing? A bus shouldn't have a dj system in the back row hooked to a giant radio tower do you have any idea how dangerous that could be

Dj" woah chill bro I got it all under control besides I thought we might get bored either during a long trip or with using it as a plain old London decor bus so I had Dawkins make some serious upgrades to it and now we have our own dj party broadcasted by a high voltage radio tower so everyone can hear my mixes

Dolly " totally awesome little bro " she said impressed by giving a little whistle to his work" Look at you mr rhythm master you and Dawkins must have been up all night working on this

Dylan " yeah when exactly did you and Dawkins go to bed?

Dj well Dawkins went to bed early said he needed to rest his brain so I kept working on this beauty til like 3:30 in the morning and then woke up by 7:30 what can I say I'm an early wake up kind of pup

Dolly " then let's take this to the lab and what this thing is made of hit it dj" she said excitedly as dj pressed a button on his turn table as two giant amplifiers came popping up out of no where much to Dawkins concern as he pulled a playlist mix tape in the tape section

Dj" awww yeah let's get this party big, loud and crazy up in here" he said smiling

Dawkins " now easy on the power dj we've never had this much electrical equipment in the back of the bus before and" he soon found himself interrupted as he was blasted up to the front by a powerful Soundwave from the amplifiers as the music began playing loudly as Dawkins sighed" awww kibbles he said groaning as the music started going into the other pup's ears as it was like they were instantly in a trance as triple d came up as one of them felt like they heard this type of music before

Meanwhile in the park of Paris there was a German shepherd who didn't really have a home as he went wherever his soul and the wind took him as he sat in the middle of of a flower bed looking at the clouds this dog's name was hunter( I decided to change the name if your confused) he had an empty heart waiting for a sign of true love as he picked up a guitar and started strumming hoping his voice would be heard

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( Instrumental)

Hunter" I have a dream I hope comes true let’s me sing my songs for you, I know one day my voice will soar a Destiny that I'm meant for wish upon a star one night your hopes will be your guiding light dream the dreams and fight the fight hold them in your heart so tight

Meanwhile Destiny, Dallas, and Deja vu were out walking along the streets of Paris enjoying the fabulous sights until Destiny's ears perked up as she heard a beautiful melody as it made her heart flutter

Destiny " oh my dog where is that beautiful music coming from it's absolutely beautiful

Dallas then lifted one of her ears trying to detect the signal" hmm I think it's coming from the park

Deja vu " then let's go see what we can see

Destiny " who knows maybe I'll find my soulmate" she said excited as she and the others went to the park and spread out looking in a different area

Hunter was still strumming his guitar as he was starting to hum to the song as he was about to finish as he had moved to a bench before hoping down getting into the rhythm as he started playing louder and singing louder

Hunter" dream the dreams and fight the fight hold them in your heart so tight I had a dream I made come true now I'm singing my songs for you wish upon a star one night your hopes will be your guiding light dream the dreams and fight the fight hold them in your heart so tight

Meanwhile Destiny was still searching as she heard the same music as she had bumped right into a German shepherd not paying attention as he started growling her for knocking him over as he slowly approached her

Hunter" who are you pup" he said still growling as he then got confused when she was avoiding him and not speaking " what are you doing?

Destiny " my father says to never talk to strangers

Hunter" you always do what daddy tells you " he smirked teasingly at her as he started angering her

Destiny "No!

Hunter " bet you do " he said as he was smiling " bet your daddy's little girl " he said laughing as he walked off and was being followed by Destiny as he hopped onto a bench before doing a backflip landing on a tree branch a little higher from the ground " an outsider pup like me doesn't need anyone I take care of myself

Destiny " really!? Cool" she said impressed as she was sitting there not knowing a dog catcher was about to grab her with a net until Hunter turned around and screamed as Destiny slowly turned around and screamed as well as Hunter pushed her to the side saving her as they started running off as they ended up stranded on a little Rock in the lake as they noticed a gator getting closer to them As they jumped from stone to stone reaching a branch in the middle as Destiny and Hunter were catching their breath panting

Hunter" that was a close one

Destiny " y yeah" she said giggling as the rocks they were sitting on happened to be more gators as they started screaming as Destiny started climbing up the branch as she saw Hunter running off" Uh h hey what about me?

Hunter " I'll distract them . Run! " he said running on top of multiple gators avoiding their jaws until he ran on another one to the end of it's tail as he fell in as he reached the surface coughing as the others started coming at him

Destiny " look out!" She yelled as she saw Hunter get cornered trying to climb onto another tree branch about to get eaten as she jumped off the branch and onto the gator's snout closing it" Move it " she said as Hunter started climbing as she jumped on after him as she took another few jumps further onto the branch as they both made it back onto dry land as they looked up almost getting caught by the dog catcher as they quickly ran off out from the park as they were catching their breath as they started giggling

Destiny " oh man did you see the size of those teeth? And the way you saved me from that dog catcher? We make such a great team and you... you were really brave out there

Hunter " hey no problem little lady" he said giving off a charming smile causing Destiny to blush" and hey You were pretty brave too the name's Hunter

Destiny " I I'm Destiny " she said feeling her heart beat faster as there were heart's in her eyes as she happily sighed as she was having her first crush as she snapped back to reality " a anyway again I'm sorry for bumping into you

Hunter chuckled as he felt himself soften up more" happens around me all the time" he said as he stared into her eyes as Destiny slightly turned away to his confusion " h hey are you ok ? Something seems to be on your mind is there something you want to talk about " he asked as he gently lifted her chin up

Destiny blush deepened as he lifted her chin as she felt her legs getting more weak as she stared into his eyes " o oh y yeah I I'm fine fine just just something on my mind about looking for a lover on my own I mean my sister has a crush on both spike and Hansel my brother has one on summer and this goth poodle but me I don't have anyone to have feelings for yet that's why I'm hoping to find my soul mate while I'm here on vacation with my family

Hunter's eyes widen as he heard destiny's hopes as he smiled brightly at her as he found out they were after the same dream as the two of them looked at each other and then turned their heads away blushing as he cleared his throat " really?" He said letting out a chuckle as he looked back at her as he walked up to her" you know it's funny

Destiny " excuse me?" She said as she was confused as she thought he was laughing at her for chasing a dream and she didn't find it funny at all

Hunter " o oh uh I meant it's funny cause I kind of hope to someday meet my true lover" he said surprising her as she looked back at him as he looked up at the stars above them as he looked down at his guitar " I mean I didn't really have much of a home as a pup I've been kind of a street dog to live by instinct that's why I'm by myself and then I heard from others that music is the way of passion so that's why I sing and play my guitar so I can find my true soulmate

Destiny's eyes widen as she smiled as she didn't know he was after the same dream she was as she chuckled " you know that is funny " she giggled until she heard why he was after the dream as she felt herself softening up more as she had tears coming from her eyes " awww poor hunter" she said as she stepped closer as she nuzzle against him" I I'm so sorry I I had no idea" she said as she continued nuzzling up against him as she took out her phone and realized how late it was" ohh man is it that late" she said in a panic as she started running off

Hunter " h hey whats wrong where are you going?" He asked as he was confused why she was running off in a hurry as he followed her

Destiny " no time to explain I gotta make my way to the hotel we're staying at before my parents worry" she said as she took a pause" huh guess there was Time to explain " she said before halting to a stop seeing Hunter in front of her as she started blushing

Hunter " well then malady until we meet again " he said holding her paw and kissing it making Destiny blush deeper as he moved out of the way as he looked back at her sighing as he felt his heart beating as he felt himself like he was smiling for the first time as he started singing

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Hunter"

it's been a while since I smiled and meant it

Lately I guess I've just been " he sang as he started walking off along the streets as he continued " searching for purpose for any incentive

To show me just where I fit in " he sang as he continued walking while dancing to himself along the bridge" then suddenly I'm flying through the night sky the city lit up below " he sang as he grabbed onto a lamp post and spun himself halfway " watching and wondering and wanting to know how far this adventure will go" he sang as he let go as he hopped up a tree branch singing into the night sky" then she appears like a dream in a dream and everything seems to slow down" he sang as he then walked and climbed up a fire escape " she looks at me smiles could this be what it seems? My feet haven't yet touched the ground " he sang as he started leaping from rooftop to rooftop " and suddenly I feel so free leaping through the city I'm leaving all the pain far behind so strong I can't ignore it and as I'm sleeping for her will she be there by my side?" He sang as he got himself down as he sat on a bench still smiling " its been a while since I smiled and meant it those who know me would agree maybe I finally found my incentive tonight in Paris my lady!

Meanwhile Destiny finally made it to the hotel as she ran through the halls to find the room they were staying in as she entered the room getting a shocked look from her two sister's Dallas and deja vu

Dallas " where have you been?

Destiny " uhhh n no where" she said blushing

Deja vu " yeah somethings different about you" she said as she noticed her red cheeks" ooohhh are you blushing?

Dallas gasped in shock" that can only mean one thing

Dallas and deja vu " you have a crush !!!!

Destiny " w what n no don't be ridiculous

Dallas " I bet I know who it is you've been spending time with that dog from the park haven't you

Destiny " ok ok yes I've been hanging with Hunter ok but I don't have a crush on him he just has" destiny's ears soon perked up as she went to the window and heard Hunter singing as she sighed " a really dreamy singing voice

Dallas " rrright sure you don't have a crush " she smirked as deja vu giggled as the two went to get ready for bed as Destiny laid on the window bed staring at the stars while listening to Hunter's music wondering what tomorrow will bring them

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perpetual-fool · 1 year

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I have a guitar.

I got it to further investigate my idea about string tension. It's cheap, I like it anyway, and I'm lost.

I think I've gone over the context multiple times, so I don't really wanna get into it again. Guitar out of tune, multi-scale more in tune, I think it's the strings. And that seems to be true. I put a set of 'light top heavy bottom' strings on it and it's sounding pretty okay to me. And with this I should be able to guesstimate what the ideal string gauges would be.

I got one that was >$200. At that price it's either going to need a lot of work or it's going to be junk. This one needed work. Although, not all that much. The strings that came with it were garbage, I could feel they were getting close to breaking before they got up to pitch, but then I was going to change the anyway. The frets were very rough, could feel it grinding when trying to bend. The bridge pins holding the strings in place only mostly fit, had to keep pushing them back in when tuning. And I'm going to have to make a completely new saddle. There's also some drawbacks I didn't know about. It's small, ~23" scale length, and it's made of carbon fiber (supposedly). The head is heavy and the body is very slippery, so it's a bit hard to hold onto. And the strings are so close together that I can't play it like a regular guitar. They're close enough that it's very difficult to squeeze two fingers next to each other to play adjacent notes, but not close enough for me to hit two strings with one finger. I can't bar chords at all 'cause some of the strings are just in a bad place under my finger. And I have to play with a pick because my fingers just don't fit between the strings. So it's another instrument I'm going to have to develop a weird technique for. The company that makes it mostly makes ukuleles, and really that makes a lot more sense. This thing would be great if it only had four strings on it. Oh, and the slot for truss rod access is far too small. There isn't enough throw to turn the nut with the angled end of the hex wrench, and there isn't a straight line out of the cavity to get the straight end in. If I didn't have a ball-end wrench I couldn't have adjusted it at all, and I really didn't have enough leverage cranking on the short end. I don't have a good solution to this problem. I guess I'd need a ball-end wrench with a t-handle? This should be good enough for now at least.

Anyway, I liked the idea of this one. Being small means it'll be convenient to store, carbon fiber (or at least, plastic) should mean it's very low maintenance. And I just like how it sounds. Wooden guitars have a 'warm' sound to them. I think I've heard carbon fiber described as sounding 'glassy', but it sounds 'clean' to me. And it resonates very nicely. The fretted notes sometimes cause sympathetic vibrations with open strings, which never happened before with my other guitar. And when just holding it I felt it starting to ring in response to something I was listening to. It's a neat feeling, haven't felt that since high-school orchestra.

I'm lost and confused about what to do with this. Lost I guess, just because it's a relatively complex instrument and I don't know what it's good for. And because I don't know what I want to do with music generally. But confused, I guess I'm trying to figure out I'm 'supposed' to do, how it's supposed to be played. And that's not adding up. The style of playing I was exposed to and what seems to be generally taught, consists either of strumming chords across all the strings, or just playing single notes for the lead part. And both those things sound terrible to me*. Playing all six strings at once sounds muddy, and the chords in question mostly aren't saying anything. Like, they're mostly just repeating the same two harmonious notes, but it's dissonant intervals that make the chords sound like something. And single plucked notes just don't sound like much on their own. *Those things sound terrible without distortion. Single notes still don't sound like much, but chords have more of a 'wall of sound' effect. like the guitar is being used moreso to generate noise. And that's not wrong per se. I feel like Tool is again an example of using their instruments well. But I feel like at that point you're moreso playing the electronics rather than the guitar. And maybe that job would be better done with some kind of synth but I haven't thought about it that much.

So what's guitar actually good for? Far as I can tell, and by my tastes, it's best at playing additional notes while a previous note is still ringing. So, it's sort of a weird harp.

Which leads us to tuning, which is mostly what I've been pondering about. For context I guess I should go over standard tuning first, for which there are three concepts. (I gonna skip some basic music theory stuff since that would be tedious. It's nothing you can't just find on wikipedia.) Firstly there's 'all fourths' tuning. Basically this puts the entire scale on four finger positions, so you don't need to shift at all (with one octave). The major and minor scales make these sort of patterns (up is closer to the nut, left is the bass strings):

_oo ooo oo_ ___ __o ooo ooo oo_

Secondly there's the 'fourth, major third, fourth' thing, like a ukulele. This shifts the pattern just a little, making chords and arpeggios easy. Although this results in two patterns depending on which string you start on. Simple major and minor chords are the most common, 1-3-5 chords, so I going to show that. And that's probably what it's for anyway. So, 'all fourths' on the left, 'major third' middle and right:

__o __o _oo _o_ _o_ _o_ _o_ oo_ o__ o__

So, having that third in there squishes the pattern. Lastly, these two seem to be arranged such that you can play extended chords across all the strings. Basically the two lower strings allow you to add another root and fifth, and that results in these two patterns:

o__ooo xo___o ___o__ ____o_ _oo___ __ooo_

(*I had some new thoughts on it after thinking it over awhile.) And that's fit for purpose I guess, I just don't like that purpose. Ideally I'd be able to just hold one note and play all of the significant intervals, or the entire scale, with the other fingers. I'm going to use my dozenal notation for this, why I've omitted certain things would again be its own post. But something like:

0___ _37X _48E _590

Except, that only works if I'm just holding the root note. If I want the lower note to move around then this may not be convenient. But there may not be a good way to make that work. Like, if I wanted to move around the lower and upper notes completely freely and independent of each other, I'd basically need a harp attached to the side of the guitar. Those exist, but that's not the problem I'm trying to solve. So ya' know, everything is a compromise and I'm going to have to give some things up. And that'll probably be 'voicing'. Like, this pattern is pretty close to 'fifths' tuning, but it's not in that order. And chords, one way of looking at it, you can play 1-3-5 or you can rearrange them and play 1-5-3. Like, a major chord might be something like C3-E3-G3, but you could move the E one octave up and play C3-G3-E4 instead. That's not really the same chord, but it sounds similar. Fifths would look like this:

07__ _83X _94E __50

And coincidentally, 3,8,X are the 'minor' versions of those intervals ('third', 'sixth', and 'seventh'), and 4,9,E the 'major' versions, so you'd be likely to be playing those at the same time anyway. Hypothetically, I could just arrange everything so that I could play anything I might possibly want in order. But that would be a very irregular tuning, meaning I'd be stuck always using the bottom string as the root note, since shifting over would throw everything out of whack. That's not wrong either per se, I just don't like the idea of being stuck with one thing. Also it'd have a much more limited range, but that's just another trade-off.

Speaking of, fifths has a little bit of a problem with it. Fifths kind of only works up to five strings. So like, if you started with a C2 as the low string (a bit lower than standard guitar), you'd end up with the high string being a B4. And that would be extremely fragile if you could get it to work at all. Alternatively, if you start on the high string with an E4 (standard), you'd end up with F1 on the bottom, a half-step up from the low string of a standard bass. No acoustic instrument is going to be able to project that range of frequencies effectively, and an electric instrument could, but probably isn't going to be set up to do that. Like, you might need to split the signal between two amps, for instance.

*After pondering it for awhile, I feel it's significant that standard tuning allows playing the root an octave down from a full 1-3-5-1 chord. And plucking through the notes of the chord also provides the 'movement' necessary to make it interesting. So I'm not so sure about my conclusions. Though I feel 'standard' doesn't make effective use of this either. Particularly, 'second' position (root on the A string) does not allow the full chord, instead being 1-1-3-5. And moving the root isn't feasible. Like, I can't go 1-1-3-5-1 and then (down) 7-1-3-5-1. Or if that's not clear, I want to move the bass note down without moving everything else, and I can't. Though I can move it up, so maybe that's a reasonable trade-off? So I guess I want another string on the low end. But also I like how the second pattern allows for moving the 'third' down to a 'second', so I feel like that irregular 'third' interval should be moved over one string. So it seems like the optimal tuning for plucking up and down chords looks like this:

BEADF#BE or _0__270 _1__251 ____38_ ____36_ ___0492 ___136_

Incidentally, as far as I know this is the type of tuning that's common for lutes and viols, so that's validating. Although there doesn't seem to be a good way to play 'sevenths', but an efficient way to do that isn't coming to me atm. Also this would not allow the 'big ukulele' style of guitar playing, but as I said, not my thing.

So given all this, I'm not entirely sure what I want to do with this particular guitar or plucked instruments in general. This guitar is a bit dysfunctional, standard tuning doesn't work since I can't bar more than two strings at once, and I can't even do that if I have to reach for notes. So I'll try all fifths, it's small enough that I should be able to take the high string all the way up to B4. And the latter, mostly it's just an issue of not having anything 'musical' to say yet, so I don't know what instrument would suit it.

- https://youtu.be/Vlzk9989dzg

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phantomrose96 · 3 years

Text

Buds After the Frost

This was supposed to be a short warm-up writing exercise yesterday and then it got... longer. Enjoy!!

...

The doors opened for Maddie Fenton with a pneumatic hiss. Pressurized nitrogen released, splitting open the vacuum seal on the door as its twin halves slid apart, slotting into the wall-mounted sleeves. The nitrogen misted out, cold and dry, air currents catching in swirls around Maddie Fenton’s lab coat. Her feet thocked against hollow metal, amplified by the coldness and the vastness of the containment room beyond.

She paused short of the specimen’s cell, mindful attention drawn to the panel of controls nested rightmost against the wall. The monitor read out stats, tracked metrics of the specimen’s heartrate and blood oxygenation and blood pressure. Dials beneath the screens offered her means of interaction, manipulating the cage’s environment without needing to tamper with it by hand. She ignored these, as she had been ignoring them the entire time, and paid mind only to the single switch which would seal shut the doors behind her.

She pressed it. Another pneumatic hiss followed, locking out the world behind her. Her breath curled, cold. She and the specimen were alone.

“No coffee this morning?” he asked.

Maddie sat down at the control panel, elbow leaning against the dashboard for support. She turned to the cage. “No. One of the interns broke the pot last night. New one should be delivered today.”

Phantom let out a huff of air. “You mean in this whole gigantic mega-hyper-futuristic government lab, there’s nothing that can stand in as a coffee pot?”

“I wouldn’t stay employed long if I tried using equipment to brew coffee.”

“Use one of the big ectoplasm beakers. Ectoplasm washes out with soap and water. Just suds it up and throw it in the coffee maker. I’m an expert about these things.”

“It’s more about protocol.”

Phantom waved her off. “’Protocol.’ Bureaucracy is standing between you and a delicious cup of ectoplasmic coffee, Dr. Fenton.”

Maddie looked forward now, taking him in. He’d hovered to the front of the cell, translucent reinforced glass separating him from the rest of the lab. Green eyes shined above a cheeky smile, a dusting of loose white hairs falling over his eyes, the rest of his bangs swept slightly to the side. His tailed flickered, his aura pulsed, his vital readings blipped out steady, normal, healthy.

“Phantom?”

“Yeah?”

Maddie paused.

“Why are you still here?”

The ghost boy let out a small guffaw. He motioned his arms around him, hands waving. “I dunno. Maybe the big ghost-proof box I’m in has something to do with it?”

“The shield is down, Phantom,” Maddie answered quietly. She set her eyes to Phantom, investigating. “…I put it down last night. It’s down now. You knew this.”

Phantom took just a moment too long to react, eyebrows arching up. “Oh, huh! Nope I didn’t notice. I mean it’s not like I’m constantly throwing myself at the barrier to electrocute myself so no I just didn’t try getting past it last night so I didn’t notice.”

“Phantom,” Maddie said again, voice measured, words stern. “You saw me crank down the dial that controls the shield.”

“Well I don’t know what all those buttons and dials do.”

“Yes you do. You’ve been observing me since day 1. You knew.”

Phantom kicked back in the air, floating a fraction back and higher. “Well maybe I thought it was a trap, I dunno. Or maybe I just like to get in your head, you know? What unpredictable thing will Phantom do next! Gotta write another 200 equations about ghost theory to figure that one out, Dr. Fenton.”

“Phantom.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you not want to leave?”

“Oh I wanna leave.”

“Then why aren’t you?”

“We’re having a conversation. That’d be rude.”

“Will you leave as soon as I exit the room?”

“Who knows?”

“Phantom.”

“Yeah?”

Maddie stood. She left her chair and the control panel behind. She walked up to the specimen cage instead. It was cubic, a skeleton of metal bar ribbings with a metal mesh that plastered the glass sides like a membrane. The top anchored to the ceiling, the bottom—raised by about a foot—anchored to a pedestal on the floor. Maddie stared through the mesh into Phantom’s eyes.

“Is there anyone who realizes you’re missing?” she asked.

Phantom chewed on the question. “Nah. Well um, trick question, actually. Probably not. Assuming I do this right, then no one has even realized I’m gone.”

“Do what ‘right’?”

“You know that thing about Clockwork I explained?”

“You said he’s the ghost that controls time and reality.”

“Yeah. SUPER powerful.”

“And you said you …were from one of those other realities.”

Phantom nodded. “Maybe I touched some things in Clockwork’s lair I wasn’t actually allowed to touch. Jury’s still out on whether I’m in trouble for that or not. I’ve been a little too ‘stuck in this reality’ to know if Clockwork is pissed. But yeah, I got um, bopped into your reality instead of mine. So technically my reality is lacking me right now, and yeah there’s people there who’d know I’m missing.”

Phantom flipped upside-down, as though laying on his back. He rested his palms beneath his head, elbows out, suspended in an invisible hammock, head tilted far back so that he still stared at Maddie. “Especially since it’s been, what, a month that I’ve been gone?”

“2 weeks.”

“What? No way. I’ve been here absolutely forever it has to have been at least a month.”

“This is day 14 of your observation, Phantom.”

Phantom blew a strand of hair out of his face. “Anyway. Two weeks is still long enough to have a search party out on my butt. But whether or not that’s happened is up to – it’s kind of a Schrodinger thing. Because here’s my strategy. Assuming Clockwork hasn’t banned me from reality-hopping forever, I can just get him to send me back to my own reality at the precise moment in time I vanished. And then bam, no one ever knows I was gone. And it makes no difference whether I do that today, or next week, or next month. So assuming you eventually let me go, then I’m all set there.”

“You say that almost like you don’t care when it happens.”

“I dunno, more like I’m just not losing sleep over it. It’s not like I have a say in the matter. You do. I don’t.”

“Is the time you spend here just meaningless, to you?”

“I wouldn’t say meaningless. I’m still aging goddammit.”

“You’re a ghost.”

“I’m complex.” Phantom flipped right-side-up again. “If I start growing facial hair, send me back. I’m gonna have some awkward questions to answer if I show up again with a ghost beard suddenly.”

“…And what if I never send you back?” Maddie asked, careful with her words. “How does your plan work if you stay here forever? If I destroy you first?”

“Um. …It doesn’t, I guess.” Phantom set a hand to his chin, thinking. “Yeah um, please don’t do that. I don’t wanna worry my whole family like that.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“What part?”

“That you have a family.”

“I mean. I think that came up in Interrogation Session #3. Consult your notes.”

“I just have a hard time believing you.”

“Because I’m a ghost?”

“Yes.”

“I’m a complex ghost.”

“I know. You keep saying that.”

“It’s true.”

Silence filtered in between them.

“…What is your family like, Phantom?”

Phantom stiffened a fraction, his eyes finding Maddie’s and shifting away. “Oh, you know, family.”

“Do they exist here too?”

“Huh?”

“You’re from another reality, at least you’re claiming you are.”

“I gotta be. The me from this reality died 6 months ago, didn’t he?”

“The you from most realities is dead, Phantom. You’re a ghost.”

“A complex ghost.”

“The you from this reality was destroyed 6 months ago.”

“Which you validated with your own sciencey equipment, right? You said so! So you know I’m not lying. Unless you think I recombobulated myself from being a protoplasmic smear on the sidewalk.” Phantom caught himself, registering the flinch in Maddie’s body. He deflated a bit, eyes averted. “S-sorry. Inconsiderate phrasing.”

“Why?” Maddie asked, tone flat, blunt.

Phantom’s eyes shifted back. “Um. Just. You know. That accident was. There were um, you know—”

“Human causalities.”

Phantom squirmed. “We don’t have to talk about that, you know? No one wants to talk about that. Okay as a ghost I guess ‘talking about how I died’ is sort of a bit more normal, but this is weird yeah, ‘talking about how an alternate-me died permanently’? That’s morbid. No one wants to talk about that.”

“Okay then. You can go back to answering my previous question.”

“Um. I forget.”

“Does your family exist in this reality?”

“Um, well who really knows, you know? I had like a grand total of 20 minutes of freedom in this reality before you captured me, so, don’t ask me like I’m any kind of expert about your reality. What’s it matter?”

“I want to know if there’s anyone in this reality who’s mourning you.”

Phantom’s face schismed with surprise. His front dropped, and the first look of genuine emotion sank into his glowing eyes. “Woah… That’s um, weirdly nice, of you, I guess. Why do you… want to know?”

Maddie said nothing.

“I. Um. I think the answer is no? So don’t um. Worry about that. If you were worried? Which is weird. I’m the enemy, aren’t I? Evil spooky ghost to be studied?”

“I’m not so sure what you are…” Maddie answered. “I heard you got destroyed trying to save them.”

“The um… the human casualties?”

“Yes.”

“I said we don’t have to talk about that.”

“Phantom.”

“What?”

“Do you know who they were?”

“The… casualties?”

“Yes.”

“Come on we’re on a different topic now.”

“Do you know who they were?”

“I don’t—how’m I supposed to know? I don’t know how I died here, you know? You think I’ve got some kind of like… parallel-universe death vision?”

“So you don’t know?”

“N-no.”

“I have a different question, then.”

“Okay, good, because I haven’t been liking these previous ones.”

“Are you staying just to keep me company?”

Phantom faltered. He looked left, then right, hand scratching at his chin. “I’m staying because I’m in a ghost-proof box.”

“It’s not ghost-proof anymore. The shields are down.”

“I feel like you’re circling around some accusation I’m not smart enough to follow. This feels like entrapment.”

“Then I’ll be more direct.”

“Oh no there is an accusation.”

“I think you do know how you were destroyed in this universe, Phantom.” Maddie took a step forward, and she let her left hand touch the glass, eyes focused on her fingers. “I think you know what happened at the Nasty Burger.”

“That’s—um—the human food… consumption… location… that the local human adolescents meet at, yes?”

Maddie looked up, and she locked Phantom with her stare. He squirmed, and he relented.

“I um…” he continued. “I—yeah—yeah, okay? I know about the Nasty Burger accident. It was supposed to happen to me too in my reality but I—Clockwork—stopped it from happening in my reality.” Phantom glanced left, right, as if staring beyond the confines of his cage. “When I first got knocked into this reality, I went to go find the Fenton portal so I could try to refind Clockwork and fix this and… Well it wasn’t there. And I tried to find some people I know and… I checked out the library in case the Fentons just lived somewhere else and. I um. I found the articles.” His eyes focused on hers again. “They all say you were the only survivor, yeah…?”

“I was sick, that day. It was just a cold. My husband Jack went without me.”

“I’m sorry…”

“It took my daughter and my son too.”

“I’m so sorry…”

“And it destroyed you.”

Phantom opened his mouth, but no words followed.

Maddie looked up.

“You knew this. You’ve known this ever since I captured you.” Maddie let her hand slide away from the glass. “Did you let me capture you?”

“Why would I let you capture me?”

“Because you feel sorry for me.”

Phantom’s eyes flickered about, unwilling to meet hers. “…Nah. Nah. I don’t—come on ‘sorry’? I’m a ghost you know? Bane of humanity! We’re enemies. You were just too skilled a hunter and you captured me.”

“And yet you won’t leave.”

Phantom lapsed silent.

“I um… I wasn’t happy to read about—to know the, the thing at the Nasty Burger happened here, okay? That’s something that I kinda didn’t want to believe existed in any reality anymore, but I guess… And if you were still alive. I was… maybe just kind of happy to see you? That you were okay. And still hunting. That was kind of, like a small relief.” Phantom glanced away, back again. “I wasn’t evil, you know. In my reality or this one. I care about what happened to the Fentons…”

“You let me capture you. …And you did it because you thought it would be a nice thing for you to do for me.”

“I Just—I thought maybe, um… I mean when you phrase it like that. I mean what else could cheer up renowned ghost hunter Maddie Fenton quite like a ghost subject to study? Me, especially? The ghost boy or public enemy #1 or whatever. I’m fun, aren’t I?”

Silently, Maddie pushed away from Phantom’s cage. She moved to the control panel, stiff movements and numb fingers. She entered the release code into the console, and unslung the key from her neck to twist into the override, and she threw down each successive lever in the row of four lining the top of the mechanisms.

The scrape of glass sliding away sounded behind her. All four walls of Phantom’s enclosure dropped away, metal mesh sliding away piece-meal. Phantom stared at her, blinking, floating in place.

“You’re free to go, Phantom.”

“I—uh—well hang on, I don’t think the Guys In White would be too happy about that. You can’t just let me—”

“Go, Phantom.”

“They could like, fire you.”

“I don’t care about this job.”

“I—come on, you still wanna study me, don’t you? Chat with me? If you feel bad maybe just get me a couch and some video games for my cage then I’ll be—”

“Phantom.”

“What?”

“Go home to your family.”

The half-hearted smile dropped from Phantom’s face.

“Come on. You can’t just evict me on such short notice. I’m not ready for Clockwork to kick my ass so soon.”

“Go home.”

“I’m not in any rush! I like talking to you. Don’t you—don’t you like talking to me too? In like a scientific way?”

Maddie lowered herself into the chair by the control panel. She leaned forward, arms pooled in her lap, eyes to the floor. “You have a family to get back to, Phantom.”

“It’s—there’s time travel shenanigans! Like I said they don’t even know I’m gone.”

“Every single day, Phantom,” Maddie looked up, eyes stern, “…I wish every single day that my own family would just come back home. I won’t do the same to you. I won’t do the same to your family.”

Phantom said nothing. A somber acceptance sunk into his eyes.

“They’re… alive, you know. In my dimension.”

Maddie dropped her head, and she blinked away the wetness in her eyes.

“I actually… in my dimension I’m kind of closer to the Fentons than I think the, the Phantom in this dimension was. It’s… complex.”

Maddie said nothing. Silence built between them.

“Jazz is um… Jazz is applying for colleges, y-you know. She got in early-acceptance to Yale but um, we all—they all—visited Columbia last month and I think that’s what she wants the most. I can see Jazz in New York City. I think she’d rock it.”

Maddie blinked again. Tears plicked into her lap.

“…Should I stop?”

“Jack… Tell me about Jack.”

“Oh. Yeah he um… big and goofy as ever. He’s got some kind of eight-armed-octogun he’s working on. I know because I was his target practice, involuntarily by the way. He keeps trying to merge “Fenton” and “octopus” together with mixed results. We—Mo-addie—you… are still trying to talk him out of ‘Fentoctopus’.”

Maddie’s ribcage shuddered, a repressed sob, a repressed laugh.

“And Danny?”

“Danny… um… Danny is...” Phantom’s shoulders fell a little bit. He looked away, and then back at Maddie. “He loves you. I know that.”

Maddie blinked, and blinked again, and her eyes wouldn’t clear.

“And are they happy?”

“They’re happy.”

“Am I happy…?”

“You’re…” Phantom’s tail bounced. “You’re happy, I think. I like to think so. I think you’re very happy. You have a great family.”

Maddie nodded.

“Now go.”

“But I still—”

Maddie reached forward, and she grabbed the ecto-gun propped against the control panel. She lifted it into her shoulder, and flicked the safety, and the charge built along the rising whine.

“Go.”

Phantom balked. He blinked. He kicked away from his wall-less cage. “Not forever. I’ll be back. You won’t be alone here forever.”

He was gone.

And Maddie was alone again.

…

Clockwork surveyed the boy in front of him whose head was bowed nearly to the floor, white bangs trailing along cobblestone, hands clasped, apologies repeated, begging case made.

Clockwork ran a hand along his beard, which unfurled, drew back, undid itself with the shifting of his form to a simple child.

“So let’s see. You have the audacity to break my rules andbeg me to meddle on your behalf in the time stream, all in the same breath? Apologies don’t usually come with additional requests for favors.”

“I know,” Danny’s head dipped lower. “You can punish me however you want for touching the restricted timelines but you have to help it, or let me help this one timeline. Please, please just send me back to the Nasty Burger incident so I can save it.”

“It’s already been saved.”

Danny faltered. He looked up.

“You died at the Nasty Burger incident that night,” Clockwork elaborated, form shifting older. “There is no you to ruin that future. That timeline is safe. It’s a very lucky timeline.”

Danny blinked. “N-no. No that’s not what I mean. Save it like you saved my timeline.”

“That did happen. You’re describing your own timeline.”

“I mean do it to THAT one.”

“You are misunderstanding timelines.”

Danny lapsed silent. Worry bled into his eyes, and Clockwork sighed.

“There is no undoing timelines, Danny. There is only forking them by meddling in the stream. All futures and pasts you witness exist, and do exist, and continue to exist,” Clockwork paused, “with the exception of realities I needed to cull, to prevent utter catastrophe.” His gaze fixed on Danny. “The futures that your evil self destroyed, I did have to cull. And culling a reality is not to be done lightly.”

Clockwork motioned with his staff. “There were a handful of surviving realities that I was able to save. That room you meddled in without my permission—they contain the realities off the main track where, for one reason or another, something else succeeded at destroying your future self. …Your own deaths, in fact. In every one of those realities, Danny, you are dead.”

“I don’t…” Danny shook his head. “So then just tell me how to save that one I was in, okay?”

“Oh, that’s easy.”

“How?”

“You don’t.”

Danny said nothing. Clockwork shifted young.

“You can let it live on in that room, or you could ask me to cull it, Danny. You could ask me to cull every reality in that room, so that the main branch, the one you’re from, is the only reality in existence. So you never have to worry about any existence where your family is unhappy. And it will be that way until you, or I, or someone else, meddles with the timestreams again, and more splits occur.”

Still, Danny said nothing. Clockwork continued.

“Sometimes, a mass culling of realities is healthy for the tree of time, like pruning a plant down to its stalk to survive an unforgiving winter, or a terrible disease. But I did that, just recently, to save all of time from the blight of your future self. It would feel cruel to snip off the first buds that have come after the frost.”

Danny lowered himself to the floor.

“Okay…”

“Okay?”

He nodded. “Okay. Just. I have a different question then.” He looked up, a young devastation wet in his eyes. “Can I still go back and visit that reality, sometimes?”

“No. I cannot give you permission to do that.”

“Please!”

Clockwork spun his staff. A portal swirled into being in the space between him and Danny. Washes of color formed patterns, shapes, objects, images. Like a mirror, it reflected Clockwork’s lair beyond its shimmering surface.

“This is a portal back into your own reality. It is set to the location and the time that you vanished. Go there, and leave through the Fenton portal, and nothing will be amiss.”

“No. No no I won’t. Clockwork you have to let me—”

“I am doing you a favor, Danny, getting you home after you caused more trouble. Do not make further demands of me.” Clockwork curled forward, old, sallow skin sagging, and he turned his back to Danny.

“You have to give me permission—”

“I am the only one who has permission to meddle in realities, Danny. This is an absolute.” Clockwork glanced over his shoulder. “And because this is an absolute, I have no reason to have a lock on the room housing those budding other realities.”

Danny blinked.

“I wonder if anyone might break my rules anyway. I wonder if anyone might be nosy, and enter that room anyway, and water the plants in that greenhouse without my permission.” Clockwork stared forward again.

“Clockwork…”

“Luckily I am the master of all time. I would be able to see this coming. And maybe plan for it. If ever such a person would come into my lair, and meddle in my timelines, and try to spread a bit of his own kindness to the realities he couldn’t quite save, I would be fully prepared to stop him.” Clockwork spoke into the green abyss beyond him. “Unless, maybe, I were to accidentally have my back turned.”

Silence trailed after Clockwork’s words. He kept his back to Danny, staring into the abyss of swirling green ether beyond.

“…Thank you,” Danny answered, quietly. “I’ll be back.”

“I imagine you will. Those realities may get lonely without you.”

When Clockwork glanced back over his shoulder, both Danny and the portal were gone.

#Danny Phantom #dp #dp fanfiction #me: -writes any kind of interaction between Maddie and Phantom where Maddie has captured Phantom-#me: 'haha sick Phantom of Truth reference'#ANYWAY i got really attached to a terrible what-if #please enjoy

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baeddel · 2 years

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do you have a goodreads account? i would like to be able to study and be as well-read as you... if you don't, but you do have free time and the motivation to help out your less educated followers, could you just recommend me some books? history and linguistics are the most interesting things to me and you seem to have a really solid base in those things.

long reply, sometimes a little silly

yes! this is my goodreads. i don't really maintain it that well, and a lot of my reviews are from when i was 22 or 23, so look at it with that in mind. most of goodreads features are based on a theory of reading that doesn't correspond very much with how i read. they think you make lists of books you want to read, read them cover to cover, and evaluate that book as a book. i don't do that; i make lists of books that are relevant to a certain topic, i read pages that are relevant to the topic i'm worried about, and i evaluate the claims made within the field as i encounter it. for example, the handful of comments Orlando Patterson made about slavery in Germanic textual sources in his 800-page long Slavery & Social Death have had a lot of influence on how i engage with Germanic textual sources, something that book isn't about. Deleuze & Guattari talk about the "immediate, indefinite multiplicity of secondary roots" that a book has. Slavery & Social Death is a book about Germanic philology insofar as books are rhizomes, while insofar as books are taproots it's a comparative study of slavery in 66 slave societies. by the way, Sara-Maria Sorentino believes that no one reads past the first few pages of the introduction to Slavery & Social Death (2016, 1). and Youri Cormier believes that most academics who've published books on Clausewitz have never read past the first chapter of On War (War as Paradox, 2016, Introduction). you can avoid that kind of scrutiny by reading a page somewhere in the middle or close to the end, but before the conclusion. you'll be doing something no one else might have ever done, and everyone will be impressed you know something about a page with three numbers in its name. they'll immediately tell you about the first four pages that they did read, so there's no real reason to read them yourself.

anyway, i don't have a solid base at all. you read one post where i use a word you had to google and you think i know something. i don't know anything really. most of my posts are supposed to be experiments with stream of consciousness writing or else they're actually just jokes. you just don't notice because you don't know what i'm talking about. the truth is i'm a forum crank you will quickly outgrow. anyway, i won't recommend you any books because you should be reading books as little as possible. you want to read papers. you should read papers because they're concise and recent and peer-reviewed. autodidacts always try to slog through one long book, and when they're done with it they start another, often by the same author. as a result they learn most of one professor's pet theories and very little about the field. you don't want to do that. in the same number of pages you could read 30 papers all written by people who disagree with each other. you'll watch them reply to each other and when they do they'll summarize the other guy's argument for you, and then they'll tell you what pages the important bits are on, so you can go and read those if you want. and then they'll say why that guy’s wrong, and they'll probably say "that guy is wrong because he's making this mistake about how this discipline works", which they'll try to correct, and now they're explaining how the discipline works to you and you immediately know quite a lot just from this one paper. to read a paywalled paper, just put the DOI (a link with a string of numbers in it) into sci-hub.

here's how i get oriented in something i want to get into:

i type [subject] + reading list into google. what you're looking for are university websites that are preparing reading lists for students. for example, when i was first reading about literary theory i found this remarkable list hosted on the University of Kentucky's site. you don't actually want to read everything or even anything on this list; the main thing is how it’s organized. this list is organized into sections like pre-theory, formalism, structuralism, reader-response, etc. as soon as you look at it you know quite a bit about the discipline. now you can try to figure out what those things mean and find a corner of the discipline to start on.

type [subject] best textbooks or similar into google. the university page might have already suggested a textbook, but here i want to hear from students who had to use a particular book for class and what they thought of it. usually you're looking for reddit or stackexchange threads (the stackexchange threads will all be locked for being open-ended questions lol). if someone makes a good case for a particular book they used, put the title into google scholar. find the book and see where it says "cited by n", however many citations it has. if you click that it'll display all the other stuff that cites that textbook. some of them will be reviews. alternatively search [title] review. academic journals publish more reviews than they do articles; almost everything will have a review by someone who is in that field for a living, both contributing as a researcher and teaching students about it. they're going to 1. summarize the contents of the textbook, as well as its relationship to the overall pedagogical field in that area (this can shade into an interesting kind of inquiry called 'reception studies'), 2. say if they think it's useful, sometimes based on their experience teaching with it, and 3. say all the stuff it gets wrong, which is really good to know. if you still want the book (ie. the book sounds better than a summary of the book—which not all of them are), try and find it on z-lib/libgen, archive.org or soulseek. for literary theory i used Peter Barry's Beginning Theory which is great. i read most chapters, and the annotated Further Reading section at the back is tremendously helpful.

download one of the software mentioned in this thread. it will search your keyword on google scholar and then return a list of results ordered by number of citations (for some reason google scholar doesn't have that feature natively). this will basically give you a list of papers that other academics feel obliged to respond to the most often, which means they're probably worth reading yourself. hopefully by now you have an idea of what you want to read about, because you have to give it something specific. you can't just search "history" this way.

in addition or alternatively, just type [subject] into google scholar, find a recent paper and scroll to the 'bibliography' section, and you can use this as a list of relevant papers and books.

if you haven't found one already, type in [subject] subject encyclopedia. these things are indispensible! i talk about how to use them in this goodreads review.

by now you should feel comfortably oriented with respect to the major schools and arguments within the field. **NOTE: for more technical areas of linguistics, biology, or anything involving statistics, i lean a lot on girls i'm sleeping with who are qualified to explain things to me and give their informed opinion. i try and have a sexual relationship with someone in every field i might want to know things about.** while you're doing all that stuff you should keep a list of texts you encounter that seem worthwhile, along with some contextualizing comments. mine look like this (from a text file called as_list21.txt, as = anglo-saxon, 21 = 2021, the year i started the list):

there are other sections headed 'language & philology', 'history & archeology', etc. and from marx_secondary22.txt:

which mixes headers for approaches and geographic distinctions rather than using subfields. how you group things doesn't matter, it's just to organize it for easy reference.

while you read you should learn to take notes. try and keep your notes brief and include page numbers. notes are useful if they let you forget things and still find them when you need them. if, instead, you want to remember something, you should think about using anki. i talk about those things more in this answer.

while you're on this road you should be mindful of the blinders you might be putting on yourself. academic books and papers are a small part of academia in general. a lot of academia doesn't happen in those little journals. i once read this academic librarian's criticism of sci-hub (see) and i think a lot of what they have to say is pretty silly (a mix of bootlicking and capitalist realism which is not even worth thinking about), but they made one point that i think about a lot which was that

Enabling access to [published journal] papers only serves to reinforce the association that these final, peer-reviewed manuscripts are the de facto currency of science. This perversely enhances the status of prestige publication [...] It is also completely at odds with DORA (the San Francisco Declaration on Research Assessment) which calls for a reappraisal of how the outputs of research are evaluated, and for “the need to eliminate the use of journal-based metrics, such as Journal Impact Factors, in funding, appointment, and promotion considerations”

ie. before sci-hub made access to journal articles easy for everybody, the conversation was around whether or not journal articles even mattered. most scientific work—maybe this is less true in letters fields, i'm not sure—is not really done in papers. conferences and presentations are a big way academic ideas are circulated and those are things we just don't have access to. and maybe there are other things i don't even know about. for myself, i try to prioritize conversations, and i am never sorry to fall behind on my reading if i get to have mutually beneficial conversations with someone who is doing or making something i care about.

but what do i care about? is it historical linguistics, medievalism, and so forth, anything that i study and write about? the answer is not really. i do that stuff because i'm insane. what i'm doing—it isn't normal. it isn't something anybody wants to do. you want to learn about history and linguistics, but what can you do with those things? only two things: 1. advance the field of history or linguistics, 2. impress cute girls with the stuff you know. you end up feeling like Jean des Esseintes, cramming a couple more gems on the turtle's shell. what i really care about is anarchy. does knowing about the disappearance of i-stem words from Old English really help me spread anarchy? it's difficult to imagine any situation where that kind of knowledge is necessary or even disposable. i recently read this essay by Olúfẹ́mi Táíwò (here) where he talks about how activists from Flint, Michigan, in response to the political corruption that led to their water being contaminated and undrinkable for so long, were able to raise the attention of others outside of their city, gather a team of sympathetic scientists to conduct tests on the water and prove that it was contaminated, and use that to unravel the whole thing and force a solution to the problem. not one single person from Flint, Michigan had to know a thing about chemistry or public health prior to the contamination. after the contamination happened, one person, LeeAnne Walters, "systematically educated herself about water lead issues and diagnosed the cause for elevated blood lead in her children" (Roy & Edwards, 2019), after which she was able to connect with an Enviormental Protection guy called Miguel Del Toral, and both local amateur scientific interest and interest within the scientific community snowballed from there.

so the conditions for a successful movement didn't rely on anyone having any particular kind of pre-existing intellectual training. you might think this sounds like an argument against ivory tower book learning, and therefore a defense of an argument that anarchists occasionally make, that anarchists shouldn't learn abstruse theory but should focus on local, practical knowledge like the locations of nearby water supply networks and how to repair vehicles and so forth (Sergey Nechayev advanced a version of this, saying that "[t]he revolutionary despises all doctrines and refuses to accept the mundane sciences" except "the science of destruction [...] mechanics, physics, chemistry, and perhaps medicine", see). however there was a clever reply to this made by someone on here, who's name i unfortunately don't remember, which was that for any revolution to be successful it will need to involve making connections with people like municipal workers who already know the locations of water supplies, labourers who already know how to repair vehicles and so forth. so anarchists who devote themselves to such 'practical' activities are wasting their time; if they actually need to use it they must be at such a disadvantage that this knowledge will not save them. the truth is that "one can prepare the cradle, but not bring to life the long-awaited being" (Blanqui). your time is best served making an organization that anyone actually wants to belong to, which includes helping lumpen/proletarians realize their aspirations, which may well invovle discussing diachronic linguistics or other esoteric subjects (i have found this to be true). the Comando Vermelho spend most of their time organizing dance parties.

as for myself, i promote whatever anyone is interested in, because i believe that it is better to have a hobby than to get sucked into any of these horrific political cults i've watched my friends get sucked into out of desperation, that abuse their members, cover up scandals, and appropriate funds. these organizations are not just wrong, and they do not just mistreat individuals; they also decimate the movement by attracting all the young, politically engaged people only to isolate them from their loved ones and let them burn out, get them arrested with reckless actions or alienate them from the movement with whisper campaigns, or in the worst cases torture and kill them (like the United Red Army did), and all the while perpetuate themselves forever to do it all again. if i can make sure that everyone would rather be at home reading the Eddas than going out and 'organizing' that way then they'll only lend their energy to organizations and activities that are really efficacious, and the movement, when and where it happens, will be in a stronger position. Baudrillard's quip: "For a healthy distribution of energies, the best thing is to commit one’s cowardice in the service of a good cause and one’s courage to the service of the bad ones."

what did you ask? well anyway, good luck!

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choptop-sawyer · 3 years

Note

Hi again 😎💫 im here to dig at ur brain again bcs i. M. Aaa sorry i just love ur stuff but. I have this kinda rly specific storyline type hc area and I'd love to hear any hcs you might get from it if its at all jr thing. But um I keep sometimes thinking back to the idea of kinda, vaguely growing up in the same area as the Sawyers, being childhood friends (and being stupid 2gether, running arount the countryside, ditching school & playing in corn fields) -

But then having to leave in your late teens to school / whatever (I mean 😎 my sappy ass also thinks abt mutual pining w Bobby but you know...... nearly unrelated.......)

Then, later on (Bobbys now Chop Top, Nubbins is..... dead I guess but also >:( maybe not, the family is up to being a mess etc) returning to town to take a break from work or whatever. N meeting up w the family again, i mean, oblivious to the bullshit they get up to but.... yk

This is a bit rambly i should probs have waited to sleep but I can't get the thought of returning to the Sawyer door wearing Bobbys tie dye sweatshirt that hr borrowed u years ago and all the impact of being a former family member bc u were also kind of an outsider or whatever but also the drama of leaving so uwu sksjd

This got so long. All i wanted to ask is: sawyer family headcanons for a childhood friend returning to town after being away for years. Rip.

THANK YOU FOR SENDING THIS god I love the image too of just standing in the doorway,, you're not home, you've changed a little bit, but you still fit into some of the old aspects you know so well they fit you and cover you.

Actually this is great because that fic that I swear exists has pretty much the same premise but!!! I can make this one less tragic than that one. 😎

(This is mostly Chop Top n you centric please don't mind)

Also this timeline is all fucky. I think that as soon as Chop came home from Vietnam the Sawyers had basically uprooted themselves and were living in North Texas because of the... Hardesty incident. But like can we pretend that that never happened they r still there in Newt? Just for this. (Hope you like it!)

Chop Top's Childhood Friend Returns

You don't think you would have turned out the way you did without the Sawyers.

They were the main element of your childhood, a mystery that you had to be a part of. A mystery, because they were closed off. Mistrustful. The sickness of small towns carried to the extreme, because they were mostly alone. The loneliness made them more miserable, the misery made them more isolated. A cycle, a legacy.

So it was a a miracle that you were even allowed to be apart of some of it, but you attribute that miracle to Bobby.

He seemed to think you were as much of mystery as what you thought the Sawyers were. Two kids looking through a small window into another world. But he liked that. He liked that you were something different, something new. From beyond that small world of loneliness that lived in the house.

You learned quickly that he had a desire for anything beyond that world. So he'd invite you out with him, when you were kids, to run free in the tall grass, when you got older, to drive with him to places unknown. He had a knack for finding these odd places, and he always brought you along with the music cranked up loud on the radio.

Bobby told you many times that he wanted to see the world. He had this lust for life that went beyond the restlessness of the young. He also said that he wanted to bring you along with him when he saw the world. You didn't ever mention how that always made your heart skip a beat when he said that.

Maybe you should have. But the past is the past and you can't change that.

You knew the other Sawyers too, but Bobby tended to avoid them sometimes. But occasionally, you got to hang out with them.

Nubbins was an enigma. You didn't think Nubbins was his real name. But that's the only one you heard from him, but the name situation was the least confusing thing. He was the most open person you knew. And yet you couldn't understand him, and decided at some point that you wouldn't ever. But he was fun. His energy was infectious, if he was filled with joy, you couldn't help but laugh with him too. That was Nubbins, so absent of any purposeful deceit that he was almost a mirror, you saw yourself around him, sometimes it was uncomfortable, but other times it was fun.

Bubba was the opposite. He seemed to be legitimately wary of you. Bobby once told you that Bubba didn't like to leave the house, ever. He stayed and did the chores. You wondered if he minded, being stuck with all the chores but Bobby said he didn't. It was comforting for him. Always having something set to do. You only saw him once. Nubbins had made him tag along when he needed him to hang some things from a tree. Bones from indeterminate animals, a clock with a nail through it. You don't think Nubbins actually needed Bubba to reach the branches (he climbed pretty well) but he just wanted his little brother to see his work. Bubba didn't make eye contact with you the entire time. He was wholly focused on his task of helping Nubbins. But he was gentle when he helped his brother, careful, and for that you liked him.

Drayton was... well. He was the one Bobby argued with the most. He was his brother, but with how much age between the two, it was almost hard to believe sometimes. Drayton was the one that everybody in Newt knew the most. People liked him well enough, but they said he was odd behind his back. He knew that. You don't think he trusted anything outside the insular world he and his family had existed in for years, and was at odds with Bobby because he didn't get why Bobby wanted anything to do with the world outside.

Oftentimes you would see Bobby after he and Drayton got into it. He'd be fuming, but he'd smile when he saw you. You'd leave with him whenever he came to you. These adventures were the most fun you had when you were there.

The other times you'd go off were when he'd convince you to skip school. Bobby never went himself. He didn't get the idea of all those kids sitting in classrooms for hours, doing nothing but writing and listening. Why do that when you can find things out for yourself? Get into some trouble? In his mind, he was saving you from a very boring thing.

You two knew the area around Newt well. The fields and the flat expanses were the best kind of playground. Your dreams were still set in them. A kind of sunshine filled melancholy.

Bobby told you things in the grass. His dreams yes, but his own thoughts. On music, on late night radio, on movies, on you. He perhaps thought of you as wonderful as voices on the radio, stars on the screen. He never told you that though. But your name was never far from his mouth when Bobby talked about the things he loved.

You and him loved each other as much as two kids who didn't know how to could. He was always on your mind now, with not much tangible objects to remember him with. A photograph taken by Nubbins, your faces blurred because you were laughing. A button, the pin on the back bent. A sweatshirt, which he tie dyed himself, and gave to you one night. The colors were faded. You never did get to return it.

The years away did nothing to lessen thoughts of him. No, they just blurred all together now, and the stream of the sunshine filled melancholy was almost endless. You needed a break. There was only one place you could think of that could help you with that.

So you came back. All things led back to this place eventually. Newt was dying, or dead. Didn't you see somewhere that when a ship went down, it took everything with it? You didn't want to stay for long. But you had to see all of them, you had to know that they were all not these strange figures you had dreamt up.

You went right to the house. You'd never actually been allowed inside, Bobby just always said something along the lines of 'Grandma and Grandpa are napping upstairs' or 'there's a mess' (never mind that he could care less usually about messes.) But you figured he had had a good reason. Maybe he was embarrassed.

When you knocked on the door, your heart was pounding. And that was all. Nothing happened, no indication that anyone was there. You waited, the sweatshirt was too hot but you didn't want to take it off.

Maybe you should come back another time. You were just about to turn around and leave when the door burst open, almost whacking you in the face. And there (you couldn't believe your eyes you couldn't this was a dream) he was.

Bobby had a hammer raised over his head, grinning, he was poised to swing it down, but then he saw you and he felt as if he was in a dream too.

It's been so long. He thought he made you up, a dream to carry him through misery, and you looked the part, even as you stood before him on the doorway. The light of the setting sun shone behind you, heat waves shimmered in the dusk, and you... you.

Facing each other, you stood, just staring. Over head the sky grew colorful, in the fields the grass whispered in the wind. Nothing had changed. Everything had changed. Bobby dropped the hammer and grabbed for your face, and he held it, fingers digging in so tight it hurt.

"H-hey you." He said, and fell to his knees, releasing your face. You numbly touched the marks his fingers left. Bobby still looked like a man who had seen a ghost.

You called his name, and his eyes looked lost, like he hadn't heard it in a long time. He looked up at you, and you could really get a good look at him. His face was leaner, he looked sickly and wiry, but his eyes were just as you remembered. You sank down to the porch to sit with him.

"Fuck... FUCK I didn't... I- I thought ya'd forgotten all about me... uh.. uhm. Fuck! I mean, r-really! Turnin' up out of the blue like you're some kinda... ghost or whatever... WHOA man... like, ya here to return m-my, my sweatshirt? You're wearin' it, you can keep it! You look better in it anyway... heh, fuck." He rambled on and on, hands tensing and twitching as if they were moving to touch you again, just to reaffirm your existence. Did he know how glad you were to see him? Did he know that you hadn't felt right for the longest time being away?

You forgot all about the sweatshirt, the hammer he had raised with a sadistic grin. You reached out and held one of his twitching hands, and he stilled and stopped talking. There was a peace now.

It didn't seem possible for your heart to feel this full. But it was. And by god, if this wasn't the best decision you made in your life to visit your old hometown, if only just for this moment.

Bobby stood, with your hand still in his, pulling you up. He smiled at you, and you knew you still loved him, and in your deepest heart, you knew he loved you too.

But this time around, maybe you and him could love each other right.

#tcm #texas chainsaw #chop top #chop top sawyer #chop top sawyer x reader #tcm 2 #texas chainsaw massacre #slashers #slasher x reader #my writing #chop top x reader #choptop sawyer

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cjsinkythoughts · 3 years

Text

FATWS One Shot #2 - The Beginning of a Family

Word Count: 1804

Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of Human Trafficking (once, it was a mission Reader did), Minor Character Injury

Setting/Characters: The first half-ish of The Avengers in 2012; Reader, Steve Rogers, Nick Fury, Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Thor, Mentions of Loki, Phil Coulson, and Clint Barton, OC!Agent Anderson

A/N: Here’s One Shot Number 2! I was thinking of making it longer and adding the actual Battle of Manhattan, but I dunno if I’m gonna do that. I just wanted these to be One Shots of first meetings and other smaller events. I didn’t want to do scene-for-scene two parters. If you want me to, I can, I don’t mind doing it, I just wasn’t planning on it. I’ve kinda been slacking today, which is why I haven’t cranked out more than this one, but I’ll see if I can finish one more for tonight. Tomorrow’s another late night for me at work, BUT! Tomorrow night FATWS comes out! So I will be doing the next Episode! I also don’t have Friday off this week, so the Parts might bleed into Saturday, but they will come this weekend!

Reminder that this has nothing to do with FATWS the show, but I don’t have a title for my FATWS Series, which is what these are based off of, so this is what they’re called for now! If you have any ideas for names, feel free to send them in! I’m just too lazy to come up with something clever for the whole Series.

Thank you so much for reading! As always, not beta’d so please excuse any mistakes! Be kind to yourselves and others! Stay tuned and enjoy!

FATWS Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

You were exhausted, coming back from an assignment that lasted a little over two months. It’d been your first one since you were assigned to help Steve adjust, and you were guessing they’d keep you on desk duty for a few months before sending you back out again. Which frustrated you to no end.

But then you got back your personal cell phone from a fellow agent and, seeing you had a few voicemails - which you never had - you flipped it on.

“Hi, Y/N.” Your lips turned up at the man you started growing close to over the past year. “I-I know you’re on a mission right now. I mean, you just left last week. Anyways, I just…I hope you’re doin’ okay. You probably won’t get this until later, but…still. I hope you’re safe. I, uh, I got that book. The one you were joking about me getting. The U.S. History for Dummies one. It goes farther back than I need to know, but I still read all of it. It helped. I wish you were here though. But I know you’re working. And that’s important. Um… I guess I’ll see you in a few months.”

The phone beeped before the next message played. “I took your advice. I got a sketchbook and some other stuff. There’s a ton of new supplies. I’m kinda excited to try them out. Maybe they’re not new but they’re more accessible now than they used to be. And I found a gym. In Brooklyn. It’s kinda run down - a hole in the wall type place - but they don’t do memberships and they don’t care how long you stay as long as you pay for your time. So that’s nice. I guess. Anyways…hi. I don’t think I said that earlier. It’s Steve, by the way. But you probably guessed that. Um…that’s all. I just wanted to let you know. Stay safe, honey. Abbyssinia.”

You listened to the next couple ones, all along the same lines. Steve telling you about his day; about the dog he was allowed to pet on his run or the different coffee he tried this morning at your previous suggestion. You snickered a little, shaking your head. You would never guessed that Hitler hitting, Nazi punching Captain America was so…soft. Cute.

His last voicemail was from earlier that morning, and it made her brow furrow. “Hey, honey. I, uh…God, I really wish you were here. I was told you’d be getting back last week, but then they said it might be another couple weeks because something happened? I hope nothing happened. Please be okay. I’ve really missed you. I know it’s only been a year, but…you’re the only familiar thing I have right now. I guess Fury was right to choose you since you were the first person I saw. There’s a, uh, problem. Fury’s got a mission for me. Some guy named Loki stole the Tesseract. Which was HYDRA’s secret weapon. That blue cube thing. I was just getting used to laptops and fast food and this…it’s just a lot. Overwhelming. You were always good at making things less intimidating. I’ve gotta go. Some SHIELD personnel are picking me up now. We’re going to…somewhere. I’m sure you would know, but they haven’t exactly told me. Hoping to see you soon, Y/N. Please be safe.”

You frowned at the information, looking up at one of your fellow agents, Anderson. “Hey.” He turned his head towards you from his conversation with the copilot. “Is something going on at HQ?”

“The Helicarrier.” Anderson corrected. “Fury just called it in. Something with the Tesseract. And some guy’s mind controlling people. He’s got Barton, apparently. The director is bringing a few people on board; Banner, Stark, Romanoff. Rogers, too, I heard. He wants you to be there ASAP, so we’re going there now.”

Letting out a sigh, you rubbed your eyes and nodded. “Alright. Let’s go see what’s going on.”

*************************

Fury met you as you walked off the jet, lugging your duffle bag over your shoulder. You were still in your clothes from the mission; a human trafficking ring in Guam. Dirty, torn up jeans along with a white tank top hugging your torso and a flannel, unbuttoned, over your shoulders. One of your sneakers had a hole in it, too, and you were walking with a slight limp from the dislocated kneecap you got a few days prior.

“Agent.” He nodded in greeting, passing you a file. “The others are waiting. We just brought in Loki.”

You chewed your cheek, narrowing your eyes as you scanned the information in the file. It had personal files of the others, but you didn’t need to look through those. You knew Natasha very well, considering she taught you half the things you know, along with Barton. You knew Stark - of course you did - especially after you helped set Natasha up to be his secretary a while back. Banner you were also knowledgeable about, seeing as you went undercover to find him when he first took off and had been part of the tracking team on him ever since. Thor you had learned about after his fiasco in New Mexico from Coulson. And, last but certainly not least, Steve Rogers, who you knew better than any file could explain.

“Walk me through this; Thor and Loki are the real Thor and Loki? Like, from Norse myths?”

“Apparently so. You know about the New Mexico incident with the two last year, don’t you?”

You nodded, pinching your lips together tightly. “Well, yeah, but I thought…I dunno. I guess it just didn’t click. So,” you tucked the file under your arm securely, raising an eyebrow at Fury. “We’re fighting a god? An actual god?”

“With an army of aliens.” He confirmed.

“Wonderful.” You huffed as the two of you turned a corner, making your way onto the bridge, just in time to hear Stark talking to Banner about him turning into the Hulk.

“Dr. Banner is only here to track the cube.” Fury butted in. You crossed your arms behind Fury, leaning on your good leg. “I was hoping you might join him. Before you do, this is-”

“Y/N! You’re back!”

You shot a grin to the blonde, who perked up upon seeing you. “Hi, Steve. Just in time, too, huh.” You nudged Natasha slightly. “Hey, Nat. Sorry about Clint.”

She shrugged. “I’m just glad you’re here to help.”

“I’m sorry.” You looked over to find Banner frowning contemplatively at you. “Do I know you?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but Fury beat you to it. “Formalities later. Y/L/N, we’ll bring you up to speed-”

“I’ll get there, sir. How are you boys planning on tracking down the Tesseract?” You questioned, nodding in the two geniuses’ direction.

“I’d start with that stick of his.” Steve suggested, turning to look at the duo as well. “It may be magical but it works an awful lot like a HYDRA weapon.”

“I don’t know about that, but it is powered by the Cube.” Fury stated. “And I’d like to know how Loki used it to turn two of the sharpest men I know into his personal flying monkeys.”

A tall, broad as hell blonde looked at Fury, confused. “Monkeys? I do not understand-”

“I do!” Steve jumped in, pointing at Thor, before leaning back in his seat at the silence that came after his exclamation. “I-I understood that reference.”

You chuckled and shook your head, winking at Steve when he smiled bashfully at you. As the two scientists - was Stark a scientist? - started heading out, Steve hopped up, padding over to you.

“You’re back early.”

“Late, technically.” You shrugged, letting him pull you in for a hug, your hand rubbing his back. “I got your calls.”

He pulled away, his ears turning red. “Oh, yeah. I, uhm-”

You sniggered. “It’s fine, Steve. You can call me whenever you need to. I’m just sorry I couldn’t answer you sooner.”

“You were working.” He shrugged half heartedly. “Did it go okay? Are you okay?”

“Yes, Steven. I’m fine.” You rolled your eyes just as a yawn threatened to escape your lips. “If not a little tired.” You tapped on the star against his chest. “Nice suit, by the way.”

“Ha ha.” He grinned, eyeing your own clothing. “You’re matching me.” He tugged on the red, white, and blue flannel hanging from your arms. “You also look like shit.”

You snorted. “Wow. What a gentleman. Let’s get this whole Loki situation over with so I can go to bed, yeah?”

He chuckled a little with a nod. “Sounds like a plan, honey.” The two of you started out of the bridge. “You should shower first, though.”

“You’re a bully, you know that?”

“I’m just sayin’!”

“I’m just sayin’!” You mocked with a huff. “Leave me be, Rogers.”

His laughter was cut short, making you look over at him curiously, only to find his slitted eyes studying your movements. “Why are you limping?”

“Relax, Captain. I just dislocated my knee. It’s fine. Shit happens on missions, you know that.”

“Is that why you came back late?”

Shaking your head, you lead him to one of the private rooms the Helicarrier had so you could shower and change. “No. I just needed a little more time. That’s all. Now let’s focus on the problem at hand. We can talk more later.”

He hesitated, leaning against the doorway and watching you set your bag on the small cot. “Okay. As long as you’re alright.”

Your heart jumped a bit at the concern laced in his tone, the apprehension in those blue eyes - which you found out had some green in them - making your breath hitch slightly. “I am.” You spoke softly with a firm nod of your head, trying to assure him and his worries. “I promise.”

“I’m gonna go check on Banner and Stark, then. Come find me when you’re done.”

You cleared your throat to recover yourself, throwing him a cheeky grin. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

He rolled his eyes with a smile, before turning and walking out, leaving you alone and confused.

What was that? You’d never had that reaction to anything. Your heart doesn’t race whenever someone walks in the room. Not like it did with him. What the hell did that even mean?

You shook your head, clearing your throats. You didn’t have time to dwell on that now. You doubted it was anything more than a fluke. You were just tired and seeing someone familiar, who was genuinely excited to see you was like a breath of fresh air after your operation. That’s all. Yeah.

With that decided, you headed to the shower, head spinning with new thoughts of this problem with the God of Mischief and that stupid blue cube.

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itsclydebitches · 3 years

Note

How did Mantles wall break? Did a big Grimm knock it down?

If I’m recalling the arc correctly, we’re never told. I think it’s a pretty solid assumption to say that some grimm attack probably did it—perhaps after the fear generated by the Fall of Beacon and the loss of the CTV—but we simply don’t know. And that’s a huge problem for a story that’s trying to lay blame without providing any of the information necessary to make claims about responsibility.

How did this breach occur when the rest of Atlas’ defenses appear intact? We don’t know.

If the wall was broken that easily, has anyone decided that fixing it again is a waste of resources, instead choosing to focus on defending the public when grimm inevitably get in anyway? We don’t know.

How frequent are these grimm attacks? Because we see one of them prior to the villains orchestrating more and that, notably, takes place right where RWBYJNOR are carrying a grimm attracting Relic, after they put the Kingdom on high alert by illegally crossing the border. We don’t know.

What is the rest of the council doing to fix this problem and how much does Ironwood depend on those other 3/5 votes to make changes? We don’t know.

Given the number of huntsmen and the huge supply of dust, why hasn’t anyone created a temporary closure, as Weiss could do in literal seconds? We don’t know.

Ironwood is focused on Amity, but how in the world are supplies needed to build a communication tower the same as the supplies needed to patch a hole? We don’t know.

Once Robyn steals the supplies why doesn't she attempt to use them to fix said hole? We don’t know.

RWBY is terrible when it comes to show vs. tell and here I don’t mean that in the way we normally hear the criticism: you’re telling when you should be showing. Here, I mean that RWBY is telling and showing, but instead of complimenting one another, they contradict. We are told that Ironwood is a terrible person who doesn’t care about Mantle. We are shown an Ironwood that clearly cares about Mantle, taking steps to defend it now (soldiers, Penny, RWBYJNOR) and in the future (Amity, Salem plan). These two characterizations can’t co-exist, so the audience spent a good chunk of the Atlas arc waiting for the information that would allow one side to “win” over the other. It’ll be revealed that Ironwood had nefarious plans for Mantle this whole time and his seemingly protective actions were actually a part of a terrible plot (like Emerald pretending to be a friend to infiltrate Beacon. The "good" action was always a lie). Or it’ll be revealed that Ironwood always wanted to help the whole of his Kingdom and we’ll learn that the seemingly harmful acts he took were born of ignorance (not told war information by RWBY), or beneficial long-term plans (raise an army to take care of Salem), or simply having his hands tied (Robyn is stealing stuff and this council, presumably, has a say in things). Personally, prior to the “genocidal general” coming out at the end of Volume 7, I think the show did far more to imply the latter than the former, but the fact remains that we’re never told. We never get those questions answered. So the audience remains poised between these two, contradictory readings, filling in either side with headcanons to make it make sense.

But for me, I can’t condemn a character without the show doing the work to tell me why I should, especially when they’ve otherwise been written heroically (in a flawed, relatable way) and their undeniably villainous acts came out of nowhere. It’s the same with Rhodes. Many in the fandom go, “Of course he was wrong, he should have just called Remnant CPS!” ignoring that… RWBY never established that CPS exists. Or anything else that would help us judge Rhodes’ decisions when an enslaved child steals his weapon. Ironwood is that problem cranked up to eleven. “Of course he was wrong, he should have just fixed the hole, it’s not that hard!” How do you know that? We don’t know how this hole came about, how long it’s been there, whether it’s one of many, how much damage it's actually doing, what it takes to fix it, whether those supplies are available, or whether they’re actually needed for something else. We fundamentally know nothing. Not about the hole, or the internal workings of Atlas’ politics, or why characters like Robyn didn’t do the things they’ve been aiming for the moment they're given a chance. This isn’t a moral dilemma, it’s a nonsensical series of events that serve the singular purpose of reaching an equally nonsensical conclusion born of the "rule of cool": wouldn’t it look awesome if Ironwood threatened to drop a bomb on Mantle under a dramatic spotlight?

So yeah, I don’t think we know. It’s a phrase we can apply to the vast majority of Volumes 7 and 8, highlighting why many fans consider it to be a terribly written arc. If you want the audience to grapple with responsibility in the face of tragedy, you have to actually explain what’s going on first.

#rwde #rwby #mymetas

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starshine583 · 4 years

Text

New Girl on the Block (13)

(Happy Valentine’s Day everybody!!! I’d say that this is a gift for the day, but this is my usual update time lol please enjoy the new chapter anyway! There’s also a mini series connected to this called Journal Entries :D)

Ch.1 / Ch.12 / Ch.14 (ao3)

Chapter 13: I’ll Make You a Deal

Lila stalked the halls of Dupont, doing her best to hide her scowl as she massaged her temples. When she offered to take Marinette’s job as Class President, she hadn’t realized how much extra work she was dumping onto herself. She thought that the title was just that: a title. Nothing more. Nothing less. Sure, she would have to verify a few things, acknowledge her classmates’ opinions towards the school system, and speak out about it as a representative towards them, but that was all. She didn’t expect it to rearrange her entire schedule towards life! Her head was pounding from the late nights of filing student complaints, her back ached from carrying this stupid binder around, and her wrist still twinged with pain from signing too many papers at once. It was ridiculous!

Lying to Bustier about those forms didn’t make it any easier either. Instead of getting to make minor additions to the papers Marinette had already written, she now had to rewrite all of the forms herself. The entire process was a nightmare, and Lila couldn’t escape. If she lied again and said that Marinette gave the forms back, that would be glorifying the girl, and she refused to do that. However, if she lied and said that she simply found the forms again, it would not only make her look suspicious, but also incompetent. She couldn’t have either of those descriptions attached to her person.

So, that left her with the agonizing option of filling them out again herself. She tried to push it onto Alya, and for the most part, she succeeded. The red-head filled out a good half before handing them back, but that still left Lila with the other half. Thus, she’s spent the last three nights in a row doing nothing but signing form after form after form. The fact that she had to use Marinette’s forms as reference only made it worse. She could practically hear the ravenette laughing at her every time she glanced over the original paperwork. It was utterly humiliating.

And don’t get her started on the amount of requests or complaints that she had to file. Everyday her classmates came to her asking for this or that or “could you change this about our classroom?”. Sometimes they would talk about the seats being too hard or the fact that they didn’t have enough recess or how the stairs were too far apart and someone could trip. Then- oh, then -there were the class trips. One request was a literal trip to Greece. Greece! Did they think she or the school was just made of money? How can they possibly be this greedy or entitled? How was Marinette able to handle it all so easily? She made it look like it was nothing!

Lila clenched her fists at her side, her nails digging into her skin. Even after running from the school with her tail between her legs, Marinette was still acting as a sharp, irritating thorn in Lila’s side.

Sparkling laughter interrupted her thoughts, and Lila turned to the two boys standing outside of the library entrance. Adrien Agreste, the golden child of the school, and Nino, his little sidekick- as far as Lila was concerned -appeared to be chatting mindlessly on their way back to class, which was typical. Adrien was always talking with somebody now-a-days. That was another problem of hers.

When Marinette first left, Adrien became distraught and distant. He began muttering to himself and not listening in class, dismissing everyone with a hum and a nod. The other students berated him for the behavior, wonderfully captured in Lila’s beautifully crafted web of words, but he hardly heard them. Or if he did, he didn’t care. He continued to write things in his notebook that certainly weren’t lesson notes and run his hand through his hair with frustration when he hit some sort of wall.

It was irritating, of course, but nothing Lila hadn’t expected. Marinette was supposed to be his “very good friend”, after all. She would have been surprised if he hadn’t mourned the loss. What she didn’t anticipate, though, was the way he bounced back.

It had to have happened a little over two weeks after Marinette left, because Lila remembered finally starting to feel comfortable in her new role of being able to lie unchallenged. She was spewing some crap about Marinette sending her mean messages, making sure her tears looked real enough and her sobs were believable, when Adrien decided to jump into the conversation. He flashed her a bright smile and, in the kindest voice she’d ever heard, asked her for the texts that Marinette had sent.

The question alone had surprised her, considering the fact that he hadn’t really spoken to anyone in a while, but that smile he held was really the thing to set her on edge. It was simply too sweet-looking for someone who had just indirectly asked for proof of her story, especially when they both knew that she was lying.

She couldn’t understand the change. He’d been cowering in the corner for the last two weeks, and yet that day, he was out for blood on her account. Why? What was the difference between the last two weeks and that day? She still doesn’t know.

Adrien’s determination towards outing her cranked up to eleven after that . He went from barely talking to one person throughout the day to talking with everyone on a constant basis, and anytime Lila so much as uttered a sentence, he was there asking questions. When did she do this, who helped her with that, how did she manage to get from one place to the other so quickly- from a naïve onlooker’s point of view, Adrien would simply appear to be interested in Lila’s stories, but she knew better. He was finding holes in her stories and using them to rip apart her words piece by piece, all while using an innocent yet confused expression to make it seem like he was trying to help her. The strategy was completely different from Marinette’s, and it ticked Lila off to no end. How was she supposed to turn crowds against him and regain her throne if he kept acting like some pure-hearted angel?

She couldn’t. She knew she couldn’t, and he knew that she couldn’t, because that’s the exact same tactic that eventually got Marinette to leave the school.

A part of her had hoped that this newfound passive-aggression would fade after a few days, but now that three weeks of constant badgering on Adrien’s account has passed, that hope has been thoroughly and relentlessly crushed. He hasn’t done much over those weeks, thankfully, but she’s had to reinforce her lies ten times the normal amount to keep it that way. That’s a tad hard to do when all of your stories are on the grand scale of things.

Even with her meticulous planning and words choices, though, one can’t escape subtle confrontation forever. She could tell that people were slowly starting to become suspicious of her stories. They were either wanting Adrien to be around during their discussions with her or were looking for holes themselves.

Watching them exchange glances during her stories made her blood boil. Why did they have to be so nosy? So picky? Can’t she have a reprieve for once in her entire life? Can’t she just lie and manipulate others without the fear of getting caught? Why did that feel like such a big request from the universe?

Adrien and Nino waved to each other, and Lila perked up. It looked like they were separating. Were they separating? Oh, please be separating. That would be the most convenient thing to happen to her all month.

Adrien split off from Nino, to her delight, and Lila beelined after the blond. His meddling had gone on long enough, and she thought it was high time someone put an end to it. That someone being her.

“Adrien!” Lila cooed, looping her arm with his and flashing a bright smile. “It’s been forever since we’ve talked just one on one, don’t you think?”

Adrien’s steps faltered, and for the briefest of moments, she saw his eyes darken. Nobody else would have noticed, especially not with the friendly smile he gave her right after, but Lila caught it. She was the only one who realized how truly despicable the model could be.

“Oh, hey Lila.” He replied with an easy, clearly fake smile. “I guess we haven’t talked alone in a while. You normally like to be at the center of the crowd.”

Lila tried not to grit her teeth and instead elected to flip her hair over her shoulder. “Well, I wouldn’t say the center. I’m just being myself, and the others seem to follow.”

Adrien hummed. “Yes, I’m sure you're a wonderful role model for all of us. It isn’t everyday we get the courtesy of having an honest and kind friend like you.”

His sarcasm was palpable, but his shining smile remained. A part of her wondered why he even bothered acting at this point. They both knew they were at war now. Niceties were only necessary when someone was clueless towards hidden motives. Adrien wasn’t, and neither was she, yet here they were. Smiling and trading snide remarks in the privacy of the empty locker room.

Lila put on a bashful expression. “Oh, please-”

“Of course,” Adrien interrupted her, “there was also Marinette. She was always ready to help someone. It’s a shame she had to transfer schools.”

Lila bit the inside of her cheek to avoid sneering. There he goes again, mentioning that ridiculous baker girl. It’s so infuriating.

“Even though she was a bully? I’m sorry, Adrien, but I don’t think you should forgive someone so easily. They’ll walk all over you if you give them too much leeway.”

Adrien slipped- or rather jerked -his arm out of Lila’s grasp as he exchanged some of his books. “You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?”

Ah, there it is. That might have been the first genuine comment he’s made during this discussion.

“What was that?” She asked with feigned politeness.

Adrien straightened and gave her another innocent smile. “Oh, nothing. I was just wondering if this could all be a big misunderstanding? The phone number that was terrorizing you wasn’t Marinette’s, after all. If you were.. mistaken.. on that story, perhaps you missed something in your other stories. Don’t you think so?”

Lila forced a smile so wide that her cheeks started to hurt. Was this his way of giving her an out? A last chance of mercy? Because if it was, she refused to take it. She’s built this kingdom with nothing but her bare hands, and she’d be darned if she decided to lie down and let him take it away just as quickly.

“I can’t say I do.”

Adrien closed his locker, a certain glint coming to his eyes when he looked at her. “Well.. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what I find. Won’t we?”

Rage crackled through Lila’s bones as Adrien walked past her, but she caught herself before doing anything rash. If she was going to counter Adrien’s sudden attacks, she needed to make a deal with him and get him off of her back just long enough to plan. And to do that, she needed to promise him what he apparently wanted most.

“What if it wasn’t her?”

Adrien stopped in the doorway, and Lila held her breath.

“..Because it wasn’t her,” he corrected, “I’ll be hoping that she comes back.”

Lila drew in a deep breath, if only to avoid screaming. Marinette, Marinette, Marinette- Why did he have to have to be so infatuated with Marinette? What could she possibly have that made Adrien want to fight against the whole school to get her back?

“Alright..” She said, completely calm. “Say you were right. If it happened to turn out that Marinette wasn’t the one responsible and I convince her to come back, will we all be able to get along?”

Bile rose to her mouth as she spoke. The very thought of running back to Marinette and asking her to come back to Dupont made Lila’s stomach churn, but this was fine. She was only promising to bring Marinette back. Promises can easily be broken.

Adrien smiled, but not like the fake, warm smiles he’d been giving her throughout their conversation. No, this one was sharp, predatory, as though he could see right through her words.

“See you in class, Lila.”

The “golden child” left the locker room then, and Lila finally gave in to her frustration and let out a growl. This was supposed to be her victory, her turf, and yet she can’t even enjoy it anymore because Adrien freaking Agreste decided to meddle in business that wasn’t his. He knew that the only reason she was willing to compromise was because he was getting to her, and that burned her up inside.

She drew in another deep breath and smoothed out her miniature ponytails. This was fine. Everything was fine. Adrien might be deciding to join the squabble a tad later than usual, but Lila invented this game. If he wanted to try his hand at her tactics and strategies, fine. He would soon realize why she was able to climb to the top in the first place.

~~~~~~~

Marinette stared out the car window with awe as they drove up the street towards Allegra’s estate. In the week that led to the group sleepover, Marinette had racked her brain day and night trying to decide what the mansion would be like. How tall would it be? How wide? Would it take up an entire street or a small square of Paris like Gabriel’s? Would there be butlers running around like in the movies or would there be a simple maid or two to keep things moving? Perhaps there wouldn’t be any hired hand at all? The excitement and anticipation made her buzz and bounce through the last few school days at Rosemary, but she refused to ask any questions during the wait for winter break. Marinette wanted the mansion to be a complete surprise. And now that she was finally here, sitting in the backseat of Allegra’s miniature limo and practically pressing her face against the window, she couldn’t be happier with that decision.

Mansions of all kinds lined the sidewalks, bigger and more elegant than she could have ever imagined. Some had marvelous fountains, while others had incredible gardens. Some had amazing walls with ingrained art that lined the premises, and one mansion even had horses grazing on their front lawn! It made her wonder why Gabriel would build his mansion in the middle of the city, or if any of these mansions might belong to Claude, Allan, or Felix.

Near the end of the street rested a long brick wall that had elaborate, white statues decorating the major corners. Marinette guessed immediately that that was Allegra’s mansion, because the wall wrapped around an enormous white house that had silver railings for the balconies and blue-ish grey tiles for the rooftops, quite contrary to the golds and dark browns that came with the other mansions. It was beautiful in its simplicity, and that seemed like something Allegra would enjoy, even if the house belonged directly to her parents.

Sure enough, the car rolled to a stop in front of the black metal gate that the brick walls led to, and the driver told Marinette to stay put as he hopped out of the vehicle. She watched quietly as he unlocked the gate by hand using a personal key and quickly found herself wiggling in her seat when he started pushing the gates open. They were so close! Allegra’s mansion was right there! If they didn’t start moving again in two seconds, Marinette might just jump out and start running.

The driver got back into the car with a small apology for the inconvenience- to which she assured him that it was fine through barely contained squeals -and they continued through the gate at a leisure pace, which killed Marinette inside. She wanted to get into the mansion now!

In an effort to remain still, her eyes flicked around the front lawn of the estate. The driveway they had pulled into appeared to be a full circle, looping around an intricate water fountain that spouted bursts of water in such a way that made the water look as though it were dancing. Diamonds of dark green grass cut through the concrete in the driveway, leading to the rest of the vibrant grass on the lawn, and a delightful mix of bushes and flowers lined the inside of the brick wall as well the outside of the mansion. It struck Marinette as quaint and refined at the same time, and her respects went out to the person- or persons -responsible for designing and maintaining the look.

Finally, the limo parked in front of these wide, marble steps that led to the front door, and the driver barely had time to open Marinette’s back door before she leapt out with her bags in her arms. If the outside was this luxurious, she couldn’t wait to see how breathtaking the inside would be.

“Thanks for the ride, sir!” She called over her shoulder as she hopped up the steps two-by-two.

“Oh, miss-!” The man yelled after her. “May I take your bags?”

Marinette skidded to a halt and turned around, ready to politely decline his offer, when another voice spoke up behind her.

“No need, Louis! I’ve got them.”

Marinette whirled back around, coming face to face with Allegra, who was now standing in the doorway with a bright smile.

The blonde reached forward to take the bags with one hand, while giving Marinette a side hug with the other. “I’m so happy you’re here! This is going to be great.”

“I know! I’ve been waiting for this all week! Your house looks amazing.”

A grin spread across Allegra’s lips, and she pulled back from the hug in favor of grabbing Marinette’s hand. “If you like it now, just wait till you see the inside.”

The two girls waltzed inside together, but as soon as she entered, Marinette couldn’t help gasping and breaking away from Allegra to run further into the house. Tiled, marble floors stretched out before her, seemingly farther than the street she had just driven down, and on the other side of the bigger-than-life foyer was a set of large, open windows that touched from the floor of the first level to the ceiling of the second level. They overlooked the backyard, which was equally as enchanting as the front yard, and a part of her had the urge to sit down and stare at them wistfully for a good hour or two.

To her left and right were a pair of long, curved stairs that led to the second floor. They matched the marble tiles on the first floor and had beautiful, metal railings that curled and twisted into different types of flowers and leaves. The railing also trailed off to the open hallways above, where Marinette could see different types of doors lined up. Her restless brain wanted to skip up the stairs, brush her hand across the smooth, black railing, and explore each and every room possible.

Her gaze dragged up to the ceiling, and her jaw fell slack yet again as she realized exactly how high the building was. The circular sunroof that signified the center of the ceiling felt higher than the Eiffel Tower itself, and Marinette was certain that if she called out, it would take at least five seconds to hear her voice echoing back to her.

“Well?” Allegra asked next to her. “What do you think?”

“What do I think?” Marinette blanched. “Allegra, this is incredible! Do you really live here?”

A musical laugh came from the blonde, and she nodded. “Yep. Ever since I was five. Come on, I’ll give you a tour!”

They made their way to the stairs, and Marinette eagerly ran her hand across the cool railings as she continued to look around. She couldn’t believe how astonishing everything looked. It was as though they’d taken the finest jewels and rocks on earth and merged them together to create this mansion. How did they even afford all of this?

“What did you say your mom did again?”

Allegra glanced over at her. “My mom? She’s a-”

“Hey!”

The two girls paused mid step and looked up at the open hallway. Claude stood just above them, leaning over the railing and waving with a wide grin. Allan stood behind him, also offering the girls a friendly smile as a greeting.

“Is that Marinette?” Claude called.

“Yep! She just got here.”

“Sweet!” The brunette cheered. He dashed from his place upstairs and, once he got a good enough momentum, jumped to a stop, using his socks to slide the rest of the way to the stairwell. “We’ve been waiting forever for you to show up!”

Marinette giggled and ran up the rest of the stairway to give Claude a hug. “I got my clothes together as fast as I could.”

“Oh, you’re good.” Allan assured as he came to join them. “You’re technically early anyway.”

“I thought I was.” Marinette remarked, pulling away from Claude to give Allan a small hug as well. “Is Felix here too?”

“Nope, it’s just us right now.” Claude answered with a smile. “We already had clothes here from previous sleepovers.”

“They practically have their own personal closets at this point.” Allegra snorted. Then, she gave Marinette a playful nudge. “And soon, so will you.”

Marinette smiled. She wasn’t sure that she even had enough clothes to fill another closet, but it didn’t stop her from feeling giddy towards receiving one. Having a personal closet at Allegra’s meant she would be coming over much more often, and that was something she desperately wanted to do at this point.

“Have you shown her around yet?” Claude asked.

“Nope. I was gonna show her my room first, though, so I can put her bags down in there.”

“Oh, good idea.” The brunette remarked, taking the opportunity to snag Marinette’s bags from Allegra’s hands. “Let’s go! You’re gonna love it, Mari.”

With everyone together- save for Felix -the group eagerly clambered down the hallway that Claude and Allan had previously been in. The black railway from the staircase continued to twist down the hall next to Marinette, and when it finally stopped at a wall, Claude stopped at a doorway to his right. Glittering stickers arched across the door, spelling out the word “Allegra”.

“Those are from when I was, like, nine.” Allegra commented, a hint of a blush on her cheeks as she opened her bedroom door.

Marinette was about to say that it was fine- she actually found the lettering to be endearing -but any form of words or replies were lost on her when she saw the bedroom for the first time.

Everything was covered in light purples and white, with occasional bits of gold and light blue to accent the room. An enormous, deep purple bed with swirling, golden patterns sat in the center, holding pillows that were bigger than Marinette’s bed alone and a comfort that looked fluffier than her warmest ear-muffs. A pair of blue, see-through curtains wrapped around the bed as well, reminding her of something a princess might own.

Across the room- which was twice the size of her little attic bedroom -were two white shelves that stretched from wall to wall and floor to ceiling. They held various things such as books, notebooks, miniature glass statues, and plenty of other trinkets that struck Marinette as charming. She wondered how long it must have taken Allegra to collect such things, or if she bought them all in one go as she decorated her room. There were even a few crystal wind-chimes hanging around the room.

“This is..” Marinette wasn’t sure what it was as she walked inside, star-struck. The girl even had her own chandelier, for Pete’s sake! Then there was the massive vanity with a million different types of eyeshadow- all aligned perfectly in an orderly fashion -and the massive desk on the other side of the room that had a fancy paperweight and a nice, little trinket to hold all of Allegra’s pencils and such for school. Don’t get her started on the chair hanging from the ceiling that looked equally fancy and comfortable.

“Do I really get to sleep in here?” She eventually asked instead. Words couldn’t describe her thoughts on the room or how it looked like something out of a daydream.

Allegra laughed. “Yep! We’re actually going to be spending most of the night here.”

“After we go swimming, of course.” Claude added as he set Marinette’s bags down in the walk-in closet.

Marinette’s eyes widened at the remark. She’d almost forgotten why she came here in the first place. “Where is the swimming pool?”

“It’s downstairs.” Allegra answered. “I can’t wait for you to see it. We have a water slide and everything.”

Marinette would have gasped, but after what she’s seen so far, she wouldn’t be surprised if they had their own personal zoo. “Can we go see it?”

“Absolutely!” The blonde smiled, looping her arm with Marinette’s. “But first, we need to finish our tour.”

The group made their way out of Allegra’s room and started exploring each door they passed. Claude, Allan, and Allegra took turns explaining each room’s purpose to Marinette, and she absorbed their words as best she could. Most of the time, though, she was lost in her thoughts, completely awed by the structure of the household.

Each room appeared to be bigger than the last, and some of them had Marinette nearly falling over from the amount of money that had to have gone into the décor. There were offices and dining halls and bigger bedrooms for Allegra’s parents. Then there were game rooms with pool tables and living rooms with couches that stretched around the entire room so everyone could see each other. Vases and sculptures lined the hallways and hid in the corners while extensive family portraits littered walls and held personal places on overly huge fireplaces.

In a word, the entire mansion was extravagant, especially for a three-person family, but despite the overwhelming amount of space, Marinette could feel the warmth and familial love of each room. A multitude of memories resided in the walls, and she couldn’t wait to hear all of them.

One room in particular caught her attention the most.

“What is this place?” Marinette asked as she walked into another wide-spread room. Musical instruments of all kinds littered the area- harps, violins, cellos, pianos, guitars, mandolins, and other things she couldn’t even name. They all appeared to be in mint condition, so clean that she could see her reflection in them, and the little kid in Marinette wanted to run around and try each one of them.

“This,” Allegra said next to her, “is our music room.”

“Music room..” Marinette whispered as her hand ran over a pair of literal bongos. “Can you actually play all of these?”

Claude snorted behind them. “She definitely wishes she could.”

Allegra scoffed and smacked his arm with a playful glare.

“No, I can’t play all of them.. But I’m working on it.”

“Wow.” Marinette muttered. That had to be time consuming. Where did she find the drive to keep practicing all of these?

“..Can I touch them?”

“Oh, yeah! Touch them all. Go crazy. I can even teach you how to play a little tune for some of them if you want.”

Marinette lit up. “Can you really?”

Allegra chuckled. “Of course. We have all night, don’t we?”

Marinette had to bite her tongue to avoid squealing again, and she promptly darted off to try everything she could. Any strings and keys would be briefly plucked and pressed before being cast away for the next instrument. She would thump on the drums and blow on the tubas and, occasionally, she would stop to try a few simple tunes on an instrument that sounded especially enchanting to her.

After about thirty minutes of this heaven- there were a lot of instruments -someone knocked on the doorframe at the front of the room, gathering the group’s attention.

A man with light brown hair stood in the doorway, offering an easy, yet apologetic smile. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

Allegra, who had been teaching Marinette how to play the Panda Drum, hopped up from her position on the floor to greet him with a hug. “Not at all! I was just showing Marinette around the house. Mari, this is my dad, Arthur. Dad, this is Marinette, my friend from school that I’ve been telling you about.”

Marinette set the drum aside and stood up as well. “It’s nice to meet you, M. Chanson.”

“Oh, please.” M. Chanson held up a dismissive hand. “Just call me Arthur. Or even Uncle Arthur, if you like.”

A soft smile spread across Marinette’s lips, and she nodded. He sounded exactly like Maman when someone new came to their house.

“Anyway, I just came by to drop off the last bit of your group. He found me in the kitchen while looking for you.” Arthur said. He then stepped to the side to reveal none other than Felix, who had apparently been standing behind him the whole time.

Marinette perked up at the sight of the blond. “Oh, Felix! You’re here!”

“Here late.” Claude added with a smirk.

Felix shot him a look. “I’m not late. I told you all that I wouldn’t quite be here at the same time as everyone else.”

“Telling us that you’re going to be late doesn’t mean that you weren’t late.” Allegra pointed out. “It just means that you were considerate about your tardiness.”

Felix narrowed his eyes at her, knowing she was correct, and Marinette pursed her lips to avoid laughing, because she also knew that Allegra was correct.

“So I see you’ve been showing her my instruments?” Arthur cut in, redirecting the conversation.

Marinette’s eyes widened. “These are your instruments?”

Arthur chuckled. “Yep. In fact, I taught Allegra everything she knows.”

“You mean you can actually play all of them?”

“Well, some better than others,” The man responded with a half shrug, “but yeah. I’m honestly a little disappointed that A didn’t come get me when she showed you the room.”

Allegra winced. “Oh, sorry, Dad. I wasn’t thinking about it.”

“That’s amazing..” Marinette remarked, dumbfounded. She couldn’t imagine having enough memory to know how each individual instrument was played.

Arthur tilted his head back and forth with a hum. “I wouldn’t say amazing. A lot of these instruments are extremely similar to how they’re played, and at some point, once you’ve learned enough, you start to realize that a lot of music has a certain order to it. When you know that order, it makes playing a lot easier.”

“Oh, don’t be modest.” Allegra scolded. “Who else can play almost all of the instruments of the world and memorize any new instruments within a week?”

Before Arthur could respond, Allegra turned to Marinette with a proud smile and continued.

“Dad’s able to combine these instruments like no one I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen a lot. It’s like he’s memorized every string, key, or chord possible! He’s even written songs for us too. Some of them are just funny little melodies to go with Claude’s acts, but others are full songs that he performs for me and Mom. Sometimes, when Mom’s stressed, he’ll sing or play for her to help her relax. I personally think that the songs he writes then are the best ones.”

The more she talked, the more bashful Arthur became, and Marinette couldn’t help cooing at the man. The thought of someone writing songs for the person they loved and singing them when that person felt down brought a wonderful warmth to her chest. It actually reminded her of another sweet boy she knew, one with blue-tipped hair and a smile that could melt the arctic.

“I have a friend like that.” She decided to say. Why not tell the others about him too? “He has a passion for the guitar and plays songs for me when I feel down too. It’s so calming.”

Something in her tone or expression must have caught their interest, because the group’s attention shifted from Allegra to Marinette in an instant. Before she could ask about the sudden change, Claude slipped an arm around her shoulders, flashing her a sly grin.

“Oh? A friend, you say?” He drawled. “You sound pretty fond of him. What’s his name?”

An involuntary blush crept across Marinette’s cheeks, more so at the implication in Claude’s voice than anything else. After two years of hanging around Alya, with her raised eyebrows and coy smiles, she could tell when someone was trying to accuse her of certain feelings towards another.

“O-Oh. uhm.. His name is Luka.”

“Luka..” Allegra hummed. “I’ve never heard you mention his name before.”

“And I’ve never seen her blush like that before, either.” Claude teased. “You’re not being very subtle, Nette.”

Marinette felt her blush deepen, even though they both knew she was easily flustered. She’s probably blushed a million times in the month that she’s known them, and most of those blushes were definitely darker than the one she was wearing even now.

Her gaze flicked to Felix, curious as to what he thought on the matter. His expression remained neutral, though she spotted a bit of intrigue in his eyes. It didn’t help with her guilt towards the comments.

Then again, why should she feel guilty? Even if she did like Luka, that wouldn’t affect anyone here. There was no reason to be ashamed.

Nevertheless, she still wanted to slip her way out of getting teased, so she jokingly rolled her eyes and said, “You guys said we were going to go swimming, right? Felix is here, and it’s getting dark so we should probably change before it gets too late.”

“The pool is indoors.” Claude helpfully reminded. “It doesn’t matter how late it gets.”

“But that was a good try at dodging, though.” Allegra smirked.

A squeak flew from Marinette’s lips before she could stop it, and the trio shared a laugh.

“Come on, guys.” Allan lightly scolded. “If you keep messing with her like this, she might spontaneously combust.”

Another laugh tumbled from Claude’s lips before he let out a dramatic sigh. “Alright, fine. I guess we can go swimming now.”

“Marinette has to cool off, anyway.” Allegra added with a wink.

Marinette groaned and put her head in her hands, if only to hide her ever-growing blush.

Mental note: Never mention a boy to the group again, because they will probably see right through you when it’s actually serious.

Tag List: @artbyknigit @athena452 @nickristus-dreamer @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @arsaem @abrx2002 @neakco @pawsitivelymiraculous @too0bsessedformyowngood @nathleigh @lusicing @officiallydarkgeek @all-mights-asscheeks @tbehartoo @woe-is-me0 @raeuberprinzessin @lazuli-11 @miss-chaos27 @trippingovermyfeet @sadpotatoondrugs @ladybug-182 @jaggedheart11 @marinahrasauce @i-need-blog-ideas @thewheezingbubbledragon @crazylittlemunchkin @unabashedbookworm @moonystars14 @sunflowers-and-mooncakes @2confused-2doanything @magnificentcrapposts @moonnette @nickristus-dreamer @vixen-uchiha @casual-darkness @luxmorningstarr @jjmjjktth @kaithehero @itsme1598 @theymakeupfairies @xjaccyx @miraculous-ninja @miraculouspenta @swiftie-miraculer13 @justafanwarrior @all-mights-asscheeks @ira-sairain @lookatthestars1 @dahjokester @blissful-passing @solangelo252

#felinette #Marinette #Felix Culpa #Quantic Kids #Rosemary AU #New Girl on the Block

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forever-rogue · 4 years

Text

Christmas Trees and Picky Bees

A/N: Nothing much to see here, but some holiday fluff of the softest variety featuring our lovely Frankie Morales. This is for @bestintheparsec for no other reason than being one of the most wonderful and amazing friends. I hope you all enjoy! xx

Pairing: Frankie x Fem!Reader

Warnings: too much fluff; implied sex

Word Count: 5.6k

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Brilliant idea,” you mumbled under your breath as you rubbed your hands together to attempt to keep warm. Despite the thick gloves and multiple layers you were wearing, the cold and light snowfall was pervasive and all consuming. It would take years to get warm again, but at least soon you could be under the fluffiest of blankets with the heater cranked, “brilliant idea to volunteer and pick out the damn office tree by myself.”

You trekked around the tree farm, looking at a seemingly endless amount of trees as you tried to pick the right one. But nothing, despite how many you had looked at, seemed to be the one. They were all either too tall or too short, with too few branches or ones that were too long. Or maybe you were just being too picky. Just like always, you thought to yourself, or so everyone seems to think.

When you reached the end of the trees, you still had found nothing. You groaned as you realized you’d either have to find another tree farm or lot, or break down and purchase a fake one. The fake ones just weren’t the same...it just lacked the heart. Maybe another place would have the right tree....

“Did you need any help?” you were so consumed in your own thoughts you hadn’t noticed anyone approaching. You looked up and almost instantaneously your breath caught in your throat at the handsome man. He was tall, dressed for the weather, but still sporting a baseball cap under which you could see some dark brown curls peaking out, and a lazy smile tugged across his features with one dimple on display. He wasn’t what you would consider traditionally handsome, but he definitely was in a rough, roguish way; soft brown eyes that crinkled in the corner with patchy scruff and a mustache that should have looked silly but somehow worked, and an aquiline nose that suited him perfectly.

“Umm...’ you opened and closed your mouth a few times as you tried to figured out if you indeed need help or if you should just play it off and try to get away before making a fool out of yourself. He watched you with such an ease that you decided it would be silly to just throw the help, “yeah, actually, I do. I just need help finding the right tree. A lot of these are a little too big, and it’s just for the office so I was wondering if you knew where the smaller ones are?”

“Definitely,” he seemed relieved when you didn’t just chase away his advances, almost as if he was expecting it, “I can show you, I’m sure we’ve got something here that will work.”

“Thanks,” you grinned at him, falling in step neck to him as he started to lead you over to the other side of the farm, “I’ve never done this on my own before and it’s surprisingly hard to find the right one!”

Gods, you almost rolled your eyes at yourself, willing yourself to stop rambling. One handsome stranger and you immediately couldn’t shut up; this wasn’t a Hallmark movie you reminded yourself, this was reality.

But the man didn’t even seem phased as he easily made conversation with you. Surprisingly there were no awkward silences and everything felt natural. Before you knew it, you’d located the perfect tree for the office and the man had it wrapped up for you, going so far as to bring it back to your car for you.

“Are you going to have help getting this down and setting it up?” he asked as he finishing tying the tree up to the roof rack. A wicked little part of you wanted to say no and somehow convince to come along with you or something, but you knew that would be a long shot. Besides that, you knew that there were plenty of people back at the office that could help you. Unfortunately not him.

“Yes,” you promised softly, “I’m sure I’ve got it from here. Thank you for all of your help. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

“Any time,” he offered you a gentle smile as the two of your stood there in silence for a few moments, neither wanting to end whatever you had started up just get, “I realized I didn’t catch your name...”

You took his outstretched as you told him your name and he told you his. Frankie, well Francisco, but call me Frankie. You decided that you immediately liked him, as your heart fluttered softly from the touch of his hand. You hadn’t felt anything even remotely close in some time, “well, I guess I should get going. It was nice meeting you, Frankie.”

“It was nice meeting you too,” he agreed as he opened the car door for you to slip inside. Despite not wanting to leave, not yet anyway, you had no real reason to stay. The thought of asking for his number or something crossed your mind, but you weren’t able to muster up the courage. Instead you turned on the car and Frankie shut your door, giving you a small wave before you slowly drove away.

You regretted not making some sort of move almost immediately. As Frankie watched you drive away, he realized he had exactly the same regret. But it was too late now; it wasn’t like people regularly needed Christmas trees, and the season would be over soon enough anyways, and the Garcias would close the farm again until the fall.

It was no matter, Frankie shrugged to himself, at least he’d gotten to spend a few moments in your magnetic orbit.

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Okay, so when are you going to tell me what's going on?" Kelly nudged your leg from under the table as the two of you ate your customary Sunday brunch in relative silence. You could blame it on the delicious food that you were eating, but you knew she'd be able to see right through your lie. Reaching for your coffee, you took a long sip and offered her a noncommittal shrug, "you're deflecting. Nice try, but I'll just keep asking until you give me a good answer."

Rolling your eyes dramatically at her, you set down the steaming mug and swallowed the sweet sip, "what do you mean? Nothing is going on."

"I've known you since we were children and I know a lie from a mile away," she reminded you, "you've been so down lately. Did something happen?"

"No," you admitted softly, sighing before leaning back in your chair and giving her a half hearted smile, "its more like what didn't happen."

"Oh well by all means, tell me what didn't happen," she encouraged you to go on as huffed lightly, "come onnnn! Tell me!"

"Alright, alright," you looked around as lowered your voice, almost as if you were expecting to see him there suddenly, "it was last week, when I went to get that tree for work. I went to the lot and couldn't find a good tree and I met this nice guy that worked there. We talked for a while and he helped me and then...that was that."

"That was that!?" she almost shrieked as you buried your face in your hands, "you didn't get his number or anything?"

"I chickened out," you groaned, "I want to, but I talked myself out of it! What if I was just thinking too much about it and he wasn't...flirting or anything. What if he was just being super nice?"

"Listen, I love you, but you are a fool," she chided playfully, "clearly you liked him if you're still thinking about him! And let's be honest, that doesn't happen very often-"

"Because I'm too picky," you finished for her, pushing around a bite of food on your plate.

"No! Because you have high standards and aren't willing to lower them just for a relationship or whatever you want to call it," she corrected as you gave her a faint smile, "which is not a bad thing at all! The best things come to those who wait. But if someone did catch your eye like that, then maybe...its worth pursuing."

"I don't want to set myself up for failure," you whispered as you stared at your plate, "I could easily be taking everything the wrong way."

"There's only one way to find out..." her face lit up with glee as it took you a moment to catch onto what she was saying, "you don't have a Christmas tree for your apartment yet!"

"Oh no," you shook your head lightly, "I couldn't...it would be so obvious. Besides I already got a tree!"

"For the office," she reminded you, "he knows that! Obviously you'll need one for home too. It makes perfect sense. I'll even go with you if you want, and we can pretend it's for me."

"I dunno," you shrugged lightly, "I dunno if it's a good idea..."

"Of course it is," she disagreed, "now hurry up and finish and we can go!"

"Fuck me," you sighed softly, Kelly could see there was a little smile tugging on your features, "fine..."

»»————-　♡　————-««

You’d walked through the whole tree farm at least twice and hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Frankie. Maybe he had the day off, or only worked certain hours, or he’d seen you and tried to purposely avoid you or...something. Clearly it wasn’t meant to be and this had turned out to be a colossal waste of time.

“He’s not here,” you said softly to Kelly, who simply looped her arm through yours in a sign of reassurance, “this was silly, a long shot anyway...we can just go.”

“We can try again tomorrow, or maybe ask at the the front? Just ask about him and tell them that he was so great you just wanted to thank him?” she was chalk full of suggestions as you stared at your boots and remained silent for a few moments.

“There’s no point,” you insisted, “better to just let it go than waste my time.”

“It’s a not a waste of time-” she started but quickly stopped when your name was being shouted out. Your face went through a wave of emotions as you looked up and found your allusive Frankie from the prior week. Kelly beamed at you as she dropped her arm from yours and shoved you gently in his direction, “go!”

“H-hi,” you said softly as you turned to face him, trying to give off a nonchalant vibe while your heart was practically fluttering and stomach was doing somersaults, “Frankie! It’s so nice to see you again.”

“Hey,” he stopped in front of you, his cheeks pink from the cold winter chill. His eyes crinkled at the corners just as you had remembered, giving him a youthful appearance, despite his age, “it’s good to see you too. I didn’t think you’d be back.”

Was that a note of quiet disappointment in his voice?

“I...yeah, my friend Kelly needs a tree for her place and I told her about how great you were at helping me find the perfect one, so obviously we had to come back,” you stumbled lightly over your words as Kelly shook with silent laughter as your nervous tone, “if you have any suggestions or time that is.”

“Yes,” he said eagerly with a nod, “of course. Come on, let’s find you the perfect tree!”

“Jiminy Cricket,” she snorted quietly to herself as she followed after the two of you, thoroughly resigned to the idea that she was going to be a third wheel on this little adventure. But it didn’t matter to her, she wanted to do this for you, and if this simple thing was all it took to get you some happiness, then she was more than willing to do it.

»»————-　♡　————-««

It was several hours later when you’d finally settled on a packed up a tree for Kelly. The tree was the easiest find of all, it had taken almost no time once you’d actually stopped walked around aimlessly and worked on finding it. Instead you and Frankie walked around the farm and the conversation quickly turned from Christmas trees and holidays to a little bit of anything and everything. Conversation with Frankie was easy and followed naturally, and there was never a single moment of awkwardness.

Was it always this easy or was it just easy with him?

When you reached the front, you told both of them you were going to pay for the tree while they got it onto the car. As soon as you were gone, Kelly pulled Frankie close to her and lowered her voice.

“She really likes you,” she told him softly watched a large grin cross his features, “she was thinking about you since you helped her find that first tree. I finally pulled it out of her and convinced her to come back. It’s obvious, to me anyways.”

“I’ve been thinking about her too,” he confessed, gnawing lightly on his bottom lip, “I wanted to ask for her number last time, but chickened out. I didn’t even know where to begin to look for her...I’m glad she came back.”

“She doesn’t like a lot of people,” she carried on, as Frankie tried to still the wild beating of his heart, “really. So it’s kind of a big deal when she does. Consider yourself lucky, Francisco. She’s amazing, truly. And my best friend, so if you were so anything to hurt her, I will hunt you down myself.”

“I-I won’t,” he promised as you came over to them, tucking away your wallet. Kelly gave him a little nod of encouragement as he turned to you and sweetly said your name, “I was wondering...are you free for dinner tomorrow tonight? It’s just...obviously if you want to, if not it’s totally fine too....I just...yeah.”

“I’d love to,” you said eagerly as you tried not to bounce on your heels too much, “it’s yeah...I’m free. Definitely.”

“Oh boy,” Kelly sniggered at the awkward exchange between the two of you.

“Can I get your number and I can text you later and we can settle on a time and place?” he asked as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, swiftly unlocking it before handing it to you. Taking it gentle from his hand, you put in your number before giving it back to him, the two of your grinning like excited children, “great, so I...I’ll text you later.”

“I look forward to it Frankie,” you grinned as Kelly opened the door to the passenger side and got, pointedly clearing her throat, “talk to you later.”

“Yes,” he replied as he once again held open your door and helped you in, “until then.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Honey?” his voice was gentle and soft as you called back to him and informed that you were in the kitchen. You heard the soft tread of his feet before you saw him, your grin matching his when you met his eyes, “hi Honey Bee.”

“Hi Frankie,” you wiped your hands on the teatowel over your shoulder, tossing it onto the counter when you were and rushing over to him. He opened his arms for you, wrapping them up and trapping you within in his tight grasp within seconds, “I’ve missed you.”

“I was only gone for a few hours. It didn’t take long to start getting the farm all set up for the season,” he hummed in content as you scooped off his trademark hat and tossed it onto the couch. Carding a hand gently through his dark curls, you tugged at them before pressing a kiss to his lips, “I missed you too.”

“As you should,” you teased, patting his bum before moving back to the pie you were preparing. He snorted with laughter as he took a seat at the bar and watched you closely, but not before asking if you needed help with anything. You insisted that this was better left up to you and politely reminded him that the last time he was tried to bake anything, he’d set a pot holder on fire, “what do you want to do tonight, Frankie? I think this is the first evening since the holidays started that we have time to ourselves.”

He let out a long exhale of satisfaction as you nodded. It wasn’t that the two of you didn't enjoy the holidays, it was just that you were always doing something, between both of your jobs, his family, your family, and friends, it was rare to get a moment of downtime.

“I have an idea, if the lady would be so kind as to hear me out,” you raised an eyebrow at him as you started to pour the pumpkin pie filling into the crust but not before motioning for him to go, “date night.”

“Date night,” you repeated as you gave him a curious look, “I like the sound of that Mr. Morales, go on. What did you have in mind?”

“Well, Mrs. Morales,” you couldn’t help but beam at his words. It wasn't even that it was a new thing anymore, you’d been married for just over a year, but it still made your heart flutter every time. Especially when Frankie said it with that deep, rich timber of his voice, “I was thinking we could get dinner at the diner with the pancakes we both love, and then maybe go ice skating, and then dessert at that new bakery? Apparently their cookies are killer, especially their soft chocolate chip kind! What do you say? Will you let me take you out?”

“You are amazing, Frankie,” you gave him such a soft look that he felt his heart melt all over again, just like it had the first time he meet those five long years ago, just like the day he asked you to marry, just like the day of your wedding, just like so many wonderful times. You made quick work of shoving the pie into the over before leaning over the counter to give him a kiss, “I’d love to. It all sounds perfect. Have you been thinking about this haven’t you?”

“Of course,” he admitted, “it’s about we had a night to ourselves to relax, isn’t it?”

“I wholeheartedly concur,” you agreed as you sighed contently, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he grinned, “we still have to go and pick out a tree soon. Maybe we can go this weekend?”

"Hmm, now that sounds perfect," you agreed. Ever since the fateful year when you had met him while tree hunting, looking for a Christmas together had become a tradition, and one of your favorite parts of the season. Everywhere you went back to the Garcia's Tree Farm and sent the afternoon picking out the perfect one. You wouldn't have it any other way, "I can't wait to see what we manage to find this year."

"I've already found everything I could ever need," he whispered softly as your face flushed with warmth, as he reached for your hand, "but a tree won't hurt either."

“See, now how do you expect me to compete with you when you say things like that?” you stuck your tongue out at him as he gave you a cheeky grin before shrugging innocently, “I’m going to go and shower while the pie bakes...care to join me?”

“And that’s exactly how you compete with me,” he trailed after you, reaching for your hand as you laughed, leading him into the master bathroom, “saying things like that.”

“Oh Francisco,” you pulled him in and reached for the hem of his shirt, “I love you so much, but right now I’d like you to use your mouth for things other than words.”

“Now that I can definitely do.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“I think maybe we have to wait an hour to do this,” Frankie swallowed nervously as he started to lace up the ice skates on his feet. Your eyebrows raised so high that they almost melded into your hairline as you finished tying your own skates, “you know, since we just ate.”

“This isn’t like swimming,” you laughed at the nervous expression on his face, “have you ever been ice skating before, Frankie?”

“Yes, obviously,” he insisted as you moved his hands out of the way and took over the lacing job for him, “once, twenty years ago when I was a kid.”

“Oh my - Frankie!” you shoulders shook with laughter as you noticed the sheepish expression on his face, “I thought you would have gone more recently than that, you silly man.”

“I never really had any reason to.”

“Are you sure you want to do this? Just remember this was your idea after all!”

“Of course I do,” he insisted, “just umm...will you hold my hand? And maybe we can take it slow?”

“Like I wasn’t going to hold your hand anyway,” you shot a wink before slowly standing up and reaching for both of his large gloved hands. You held them up, palms pressed together and studying them for a moment before lacing them together, “see? They fit together perfectly. My hands were meant to hold yours.”

He remained silent as he grinned at you, his cheeks flushed from your words and the cold breeze swirling through the open air ice skating rink. Shuffling slowly towards the entrance to the ice, you were glad that not many people had picked tonight to go skating, it would allow you both some time to adjust.

You stepped onto the ice and reached for the side to ground yourself before reaching for Frankie and pulling him towards you. He was shaky on his feet, trying to best not to fall, not because he was worried about the embarrassment of falling, most because he didn’t want to deal with soreness for days afterwards. He traded places with you, clutching the railing tightly in one hand the yours in the other as you beamed at him, “slow and easy does it.”

“You’ve got this, Frankie,” you promised, finding your own balance bit by bit as you reacquainted yourself with the feeling being on the ice, “can I ask you something?”

“That would be preferable,” there was a nervous shake to his voice as you nodded, “it’ll distract me from feeling like I’m going to eat shit every second.”

“Why did you want to come ice skating?”

“I know you’d like it,” he stated as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, “you’ve always mentioned wanting to go and we never have. I figured now was the perfect time. Besides, it’s romantic and winter-y!”

“You are the best, Frankie,” you shook at your head lightly; there were some days when you still wondered how you got so lucky as to have him in your life, not just as a random figure, but as your husband. He really had been worth the wait and you thanked your lucky stars for him every day, “this is very romantic, and I couldn’t asked for a better partner.”

The two of you skated for some time, going around in slow circles at first and then gradually pulling away from the railing as Frankie grew more confident with his skating ability. Eventually he was able to let go completely and you both skated around hand in hand, giggling and laughing about anything and everything.

At one point, you’d gotten a little too confident and the tip of your skate caught on some phantom nick in the ice and you took a tumble, unable to stop yourself from landing on your bum. You’d had at least enough time to let go of Frankie’s hand to stop yourself from dragging him down, but as he tried to scoop you up, he lost his own balance and landed next to you.

“Frankie! Are you okay?” you asked when you as to tried your best not to giggled at the surprised look on his face or how his beanie had slid down and covered his eyes. Reaching over, you pushed up the beanie so he could again, stopping to brush a few snowflakes out of his curly locks, “after all that fuss and it was me that actually fell. See you had nothing to worry about!”

“Are you alright?” he looked you up and down, hands finding your face to check you over, “my silly little bee.”

“I’m alright,” you promised, “you?”

“Yes,” his eyes studied yours before he crashed his lips onto yours and gave you a few soft kisses. He still tasted sweet, like the hot chocolate and pancakes you’d both had for dinner, and let his lips linger against yours, “as much as I enjoyed that, I think we need to get up before we freeze to death.”

“Good plan. This is going to take a moment and I don’t want to hear a single word,” you started to scoot across the ice and back to the wall, dragging him behind you as you both held onto it and scrambled to your feet, “maybe next time we won’t fall at all.”

“Ahh, it would be worth even if we do, so as long as we have fun,” he pulled the scarf from around his neck and wrapped it around your own when he noticed you shivering lightly. You’d forgotten yours at him, but of course weren’t going to ask for his, but had made a mental note to leave on in the truck for occasions such as this, “better?”

“Frankie-”

“Don’t argue with me,” he booped your nose as you both slumped back onto the bench and pulled off your skates, “ready for dessert?”

“Absolutely,” you almost bounced to your feet as you slipped your boots back and patiently waited for Frankie. You were watching with him nothing but sheer adoration in your eyes. This was your husband, you remembered, this amazing marvel of a human was yours. You loved him and he loved you; what a beautiful world it was.

“What?” he asked as he grabbed your skates and his to return, easily grabbing both pairs with one hand, “something on my face?”

“No,” you promised, “just thinking about how much I love you.”

“Oh,” he looked at you for a moment as a slow smile brushed onto his features, “oh. I love you, con todo, mi vida.”

“And that’s very sexy of you,” you laughed as he wrapped an arm around your waist, “I told you that you always know just what to say.”

“I’ll be sure to speak even more to after dessert,” he commented innocently as he opened the truck door for you to get in. You knew exactly what he meant; there was something about the way he managed to slip into Spanish while you were making love that was just...heavenly.

“I’m counting on that hot stuff,” you teased as he got into the driver’s side and turned on the truck making sure the heater was set to exactly how you liked it.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“I don’t know where you heard about this place from, but it’s amazing,” you couldn’t help but mumble through a mouth stuffed with cookies and ice cream. The cookies were warmed and soft and the vanilla bean ice cream was melting perfectly onto them. Frankie raised an eyebrow at you as he took a bite of his own pie. You wolfed down your bite before trying again, “these cookies are so good it’s almost sinful.”

“Santi told me about this place,” he took his fork and offered you a bit of his apple pie. You opened your mouth and eagerly accepted it, savoring the sweet flavor on your tongue to get a good taste of it, “for once his suggestion turned out to be worthwhile.”

“Francisco! You’re so mean!” you laughed as you gathered a bit of cookie and ice cream in your spoon and held it out for him. He grabbed your wrist and locked those honeyed eyes on your eyes as he slowly took the bite and licked the spoon clean. It was pointedly much more sexual than it needed to be, but you weren’t going to argue with that, “no more bites for you. If you’re going to keep doing that. I want to eat in peace, mister.”

“Honey, dessert is what’s happening at home,” his voice dropped an octave to that tone that always managed to send shivers down your spine as his eyes grew darker, “this is the foreplay.”

“Umm, why don’t we go home now and we can save the rest for later?”

“Excellent plan,” he agreed as he turned the truck on again and pulled out of the parking lot of the small little bakery that you would definitely be coming back.

»»————-　♡　————-««

By the time Frankie pulled into the driveway, you felt more like teenagers sneaking around than the grown adults you were. You’d been stealing kisses and touches from one another as he drove him, leaving the two of breathless and with flushed faces. He practically jumped out of the truck and swooped you out of the passenger seat before heading for the door as you peppered his neck and jaw in kisses.

But when he got to the front door, he slowed down, taking his time to open the door and walk into the hallway, turning on the light. You stopped what you were doing, reaching up and touching his scruffy cheek, “what’s wrong, baby?”

“It’s...do you promise not to laugh?” he adopted a serious tone as he watched your face for any shift of expression.

“Never, my sweet Frankie,” you gave him your most serious tone as you silently encouraged him to go on.

“Okay, well, when we first got together and went to that Christmas party at your office there was Mistletoe,” he explained as he slowly set you back down on the floor, making sure you were steady on your feet before letting go, “do you remember?”

“I do,” the memories instantly flooded, technicolor and vivid in your mind. It was a few weeks after you’d first met Frankie and the two of you were spending almost every waking moment together. Naturally, you’d asked him to come to your office Christmas party, and it had turned out to be a night of many firsts, “I swear it was hanging in every doorway.”

“Do you remember what you said?”

“Hmmm...” you tapped your chin thoughtfully as you tried to recall but drew a blank, “no? What did I say?”

“You said you’d never been kissed under the Mistletoe,” he explained, “and that you thought it was outdated and cheesy and you would never kiss someone under it unless you were positive they were the one.”

“I did,” you laughed lightly at the memory, remembering now that you had told him all of this while the two of you had been lightly buzzing from all the wine and champagne, “I...you remember. I can’t believe you remember such a silly little thing.”

“It’s not silly,” he insisted, “not to me. But I have a little surprise.”

“Another surprise?” your mouth gaped as he took your and slowly pulled you towards your bedroom, a wicked little smile on face.

“I didn’t forget anything when I came back in before we left,” he admitted, “I came back in to hang this.”

With a flourish he pointed to the door frame and watched your face light up as you took in the fresh little bundle of Mistletoe that he had carefully hung up before you’d left on your little date night.

“Francisco,” his name fell from your lips softly, reverently, as you looked back at him, “this is...I can’t believe you did all of this. You remembered this...”

“Because I love you,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead as you tried not to let the tears that were welling up in your eyes spill over, “but remember, you said you’d only kiss someone under it if you were sure they’re the one. May I kiss you?”

“Of course,” you offered him a teary little smile, “you are the one. You have always been and always will be, Frankie. I don’t think I can properly put into words just how much I adore you.”

“I know,” he wiped away the tear that had rolled down your cheeky as you wrapped your arms around him, “you are everything.”

And then he kissed. Because he was the one.

And always would be.

You were never more thankful for agreeing to trek out and get that Christmas tree by yourself those five long years ago.

It had given you everything and then some.

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader

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baejax-the-great · 3 years

Text

Aches

Fenris x Hawke (G)

1850 words of banter about old injuries between even older friends. Mentions of alcohol, spiders, and aging.

Read on AO3

When Bethany summoned ice from thin air, Varric reflected for the umpteenth time what a fantastic waste locking up all the mages had been for all those years.

“Thank you, Sunshine,” he said while scooping it into a handkerchief. It would soak through eventually, but it was going to get the job done.

Hawke watched him with a raised eyebrow. “Was I the only one who thought the ice was for our drinks?”

“Ice in wine? Yes,” Fenris replied.

“I don’t know, it might have been nice to try it cold. Something new?”

Fenris shook his head.

“I’m an old man now,” Varric explained as he tied a knot to hold the ice in, “I have aches and pains, and in my time in the charming south, ice helped.”

“What aches?” Bethany asked.

“My wrist,” he replied. He rolled his eyes at Hawke’s failure to hide a childish smile. “There’s a cranking motion I have to do for Bianca and—”

Hawke was no longer pretending to listen seriously, giggling to herself, and Varric put his hands back on the table, regretting his choice to act out the motion in the air for more than just the predictable pain that came with it. He set the ice to do its work.

“Tell me more about how you crank Bianca,” Hawke said with a flutter of her eyelashes.

He shook his head. “I know I’m not the only one here suffering. Come on, Hawke, you’re practically a walking bruise at this point. Maybe you’d like to be put on ice for a bit.”

She grinned. “Well there was the old shoulder injury. And the knee injury, of course. Every time it rains it starts creaking. And I really did roll that one ankle too many times. It seems always on the verge of rolling again.” Bethany quietly began summoning more ice as she spoke. ”And, well who could forget my back that one time, except that the answer was all of you forgot my back or nothing would have happened to it in the first place…”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Bethany tied up the ice and handed it to her sister, who only used it to gesture in the air as she said, “Honestly, at this point I take a healing potion prior to fighting just so I can make the stabbing motion without wincing. And I’m still not half as fast as I used to be.”

Fenris raised an eyebrow. “I thought that was whisky.”

“You thought I was getting drunk before fights?”

He nodded. “I was worried about you. Now I know you are in too much pain to hold a blade. That’s much better.”

“Not after I take one of these,” Hawke said, wiggling a small vial in front of him. She seemed to remember the ice in her other hand at that point and after some consideration she balanced it on her right elbow, her smile fading into consternation. “And then take three more the minute we’re done, or I’d have to make you carry me home.”

“Give me that—” Bethany said, snatching the vial before Hawke had the chance to protest. She swirled it in the light, popped the cork to delicately sniff it, then sighed. “You really shouldn’t be taking four of these in one day.”

Hawke snatched it back with her tongue stuck out. “It’s better than taking a knife to the gut, but I’ll keep that in mind. Not all of us can shove healing magic into our shoulders after every fight.”

“Maker, don’t remind me. All that twirling has taken its toll.” She sighed. “And Alistair—all that plate mail on his big body—his knees are practically dust at this point. I think magic is all that’s holding them together.”

Hawke laughed and offered her elbow to Bethany, who prodded at it a bit with some magic. Fenris was conspicuously silent through all of this, and Varric just couldn’t help poking.

“What about you, elf?” he asked, “Where’s your worst pain? No, don’t tell me. It’s either the shoulder or the elbow, and my money’s on the elbow.”

Fenris took a slow drink of ale, and Hawke, to her credit, didn’t shout out the answer. “I may not know my age,” Fenris drawled, “But I am now certain I am younger than all of you. My joints are fine.”

Hawke laughed. “Maker, but you were a haggard teenager when we found you,” she snickered.

“Bull shit,” Varric replied. “And here’s how I know it’s bullshit and that it’s your elbow. I haven’t seen you do that over-the-head hack move in two years. Now I know you’re strong enough to lift that enormous sword of yours, but I’m guessing your elbow won’t let you do the follow-through.”

Fenris shrugged. “It was an inefficient maneuver,” he replied simply to Hawke’s giggles.

Bethany, who had prepared yet another handkerchief full of ice, turned to Varric and asked, “Should we play pin the ice pack on the elf? Honestly I’m guessing there are no wrong answers.”

Of course, with her time spent healing, she had an eye for these things. She leaned over and whispered in Varric’s ear.

He grinned. “Alright Mister-Younger-Than-The-Rest-of-Us, let’s have a demonstration of your peak physical condition. We’ll start with something nice and easy. Put your hand all the way up in the air, as far as it will go.”

Fenris rolled his eyes and started to raise his hand.

“The other hand,” Varric and Bethany protested at the same time.

Fenris considered the hand currently holding his cup of wine. “No.”

Hawke accepted the ice pack from Bethany and placed it on his shoulder for him. “I really thought I’d be much older when all my conversations devolved into what hurt where and how bad,” she said, Seems like a conversation for people with white hair.”

Fenris gave her a very pointed look.

“I mean like Varric,” she sighed. “He’s not nearly gray enough for this conversation.”

“Thanks, Hawke.”

“Any time. Anyway I suppose we’ll really be lost when we start arguing over whose pain is the worst.”

“It’s you,” Bethany said simultaneously with Fenris’s “Yours is.”

Varric, who might have enjoyed a great sympathy for his poor wrist that started the entire conversation, had to agree. “We all saw—”

“Don’t bring up the Arishok,” Hawke interrupted flatly, “I’m so tired of talking about the blasted Arishok—”

“That golem-looking thing in the Deep Roads that crushed your foot,” he finished.

“I was going to say that time a Maker’s Fist blasted her right off a cliff on the Wounded Coast,” Bethany said, “I think she hit every shrub on the way down.”

“I was thinking of the Arishok,” Fenris said.

Hawke elbowed him.

“We all had our fair share,” she said, “What about that time Merrill got that spider bite and we had to carry her home?”

“That was nothing,” Varric said, “She was fine by the time we got back, but I think she was enjoying the ride. Void, she probably weighs less than Bianca, so it wasn’t some big imposition or anything. Whoever had to carry her staff got the worse end of that deal.”

“What about when Isabela got that nasty burn? I can still remember the smell,” Bethany said, scrunching up her nose.

“But you healed that in about a minute,” Hawke said, “She hardly suffered at all.”

The rest of the evening was spent arguing over not over which injury was the most grievous, but which injury was the stupidest in their history. Isabela’s hand blowing up twice its usual size because of what turned out to be a very infected splinter was right up there with the time a crab snapped Fenris’s bare toes and refused to let go until Varric bolted it. Varric personally felt that while Isabela’s injury was more serious, Fenris deserved the crown because he could have just done his lyrium thing at any moment to get away, but instead hopped around like an idiot for a solid minute before Hawke got him to hold still.

Regardless, the ice eventually melted, leaving them all a little soggy, a little nostalgic, and definitely ready for bed.

In their bedroom, after their slow, verbose goodbyes to friends and family that involved Hawke hugging everyone at least three times, including Fenris who was going nowhere, Fenris asked Hawke, “So what happens now?”

She frowned. “Well I was going to peel off this shirt and toss it in the hamper, and then normally I would take two more of these so I could go to bed, but Bethy just told me to limit myself to four.”

Fenris stared at the potion in her hand. “You’ve already had—that is not what she said—”

“Maybe a bath?” Hawke continued as if he had said nothing at all, “With those fizzy salts. That should help, right? Everyone always says those help. Have a bunch stored in a drawer somewhere.”

“No, I meant…” They had slowed down. Fenris had been mostly joking about the whisky, but he hadn’t really registered the extent to which Hawke was in pain. They were both in pain. “Are we…?” He didn’t even know how to phrase the question. What were they if not mercenaries, champions, and warriors? “Are we done?”

“With fighting?” She tossed her shirt away with a small grunt. “Maker, yes. That’s done. We’re old, it’s over, you couldn’t pay me to pick up my blades again, which no one does anymore anyway. May they rust wherever I dropped them last time we came home.”

He nodded, though he couldn’t quite tell if Hawke was serious or not. “Just like that?” he asked.

Hesitating a little, her flippant attitude smoothed into sincerity as she walked over to him and rested her arms over his shoulders. “Do you remember that time you got bashed over the head?”

“Not really, no,” he replied very honestly.

“Right. Of course. I do, though, and after tonight’s conversation, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. The slower I get, the stiffer I get, the greater the chance it happens again. Only this time I might not finish off our assailants on my own, or get you to the healer in time, or be able to carry you at all if I have to.”

Fenris rolled his bad shoulder. That thought had crossed his mind once or twice, that should extraordinary circumstances occur as they often did around Hawke, there was less certainty of them prevailing. Still, he didn’t know what a future of quiet peace looked like.

Perhaps it looked like Hawke, slowly undressing as she spoke.

“So I’m done,” she continued, “Didn’t realize it until tonight, but I am serious. Someone else can clean up Darktown or mend the Wounded Coast. I’ll be in the bath, with my salts.” She tossed the rest of her clothes and sauntered toward the bath, pausing to look back at him. “Are you coming?”

Questions of the future aside, what could Fenris do but follow? She had certainly led him to worse places before. “Always.”

#hawke #lea hawke #fenris #fenhawke #fenris x hawke #bethany #bethany hawke #varric #varric tethras #my writing #alcohol mention #feels good to write a dumb one shot again

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