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duckprintspress · 4 years ago

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How to Edit an Over-Length Story Down to a Specific Word Count

One of the most wonderful things about writing as a hobby is that you never have to worry about the length of your story. You can be as self-indulgent as you want, make your prose the royalist of purples, include every single side story and extra thought that strikes your fancy. It’s your story, with no limits, and you can proceed with it as you wish.

When transitioning from casual writing to a more professional writing milieu, this changes. If you want to publish, odds are, you’ll need to write to a word count. If a flash fiction serial says, “1,000 words or less,” your story can’t be 1,025 and still qualify. If a website says, “we accept novellas ranging from 20,000 to 40,000 words,” your story will need to fall into that window. Even when you consider novel-length works, stories are expected to be a certain word count to fit neatly into specific genres - romance is usually around 80,000 words, young adult usually 50,000 to 80,000, debut novels usually have to be 100,000 words or less regardless of genre, etc. If you self-publish or work with a small press, you may be able to get away with breaking these “rules,” but it’s still worthwhile to learn to read your own writing critically with length in mind and learn to recognize what you do and do not need to make your story work - and then, if length isn’t an issue in your publishing setting, you can always decide after figuring out what’s non-essential to just keep everything anyway.

If you’re writing for fun? You literally never have to worry about your word count (well, except for sometimes in specific challenges that have minimum and/or maximum word counts), and as such, this post is probably not for you.

But, if you’re used to writing in the “throw in everything and the kitchen sink” way that’s common in fandom fanfiction circles, and you’re trying to transition only to be suddenly confronted with the reality that you’ve written 6,000 words for a short story project with a maximum word count of 5,000...well, we at Duck Prints Press have been there, we are in fact there right now, as we finish our stories for our upcoming anthology Add Magic to Taste and many of us wrote first drafts that were well over the maximum word count.

So, based on our experiences, here are our suggestions on approaches to help your story shorter...without losing the story you wanted to tell!

Cut weasel words (we wrote a whole post to help you learn how to do that!) such as unnecessary adverbs and adjectives, the “was ~ing” sentence structure, redundant time words such as “a moment later,” and many others.

When reviewing dialog, keep an eye out for “uh,” “er,” “I mean,” “well,” and other casual extra words. A small amount of that kind of language usage can make dialog more realistic, but a little goes a long way, and often a fair number of words can be removed by cutting these words, without negatively impacting your story at all.

Active voice almost always uses fewer words than passive voice, so try to use active voice more (but don’t forget that passive voice is important for varying up your sentence structures and keeping your story interesting, so don’t only write in active voice!).

Look for places where you can replace phrases with single words that mean the same thing. You can often save a lot of words by switching out phrases like “come back” for “return” and seeking out other places where one word can do the work of many.

Cut sentences that add atmosphere but don't forward the plot or grow your characters. (Obviously, use your judgement. Don't cut ALL the flavor, but start by going - I’ve got two sentences that are mostly flavor text - which adds more? And then delete the other, or combine them into one shorter sentence.)

Remove superfluous dialog tags. If it’s clear who’s talking, especially if it’s a conversation between only two people, you can cut all the he saids, she saids.

Look for places where you've written repetitively - at the most basic level, “ ‘hahaha,’ he laughed,” is an example, but repetition is often more subtle, like instances where you give information in once sentence, and then rephrase part or all of that sentence in the next one - it’s better to poke at the two sentences until you think of an effective, and more concise, way to make them into only one sentence. This also goes for scenes - if you’ve got two scenes that tend towards accomplishing the same plot-related goal, consider combining them into one scene.

Have a reason for every sentence, and even every sentence clause (as in, every comma insertion, every part of the sentence, every em dashed inclusion, that kind of thing). Ask yourself - what function does this serve? Have I met that function somewhere else? If it serves no function, or if it’s duplicative, consider cutting it. Or, the answer may be “none,” and you may choose to save it anyway - because it adds flavor, or is very in character for your PoV person, or any of a number of reasons. But if you’re saving it, make sure you’ve done so intentionally. It's important to be aware of what you're trying to do with your words, or else how can you recognize what to cut, and what not to cut?

Likewise, have a reason for every scene. They should all move the story along - whatever the story is, it doesn’t have to be “the end of the world,” your story can be simple and straightforward and sequential...but if you’re working to a word count, your scenes should still forward the story toward that end point. If the scene doesn’t contribute...you may not need them, or you may be able to fold it in with another scene, as suggested in item 6.

Review the worldbuilding you’ve included, and consider what you’re trying to accomplish with your story. A bit of worldbuilding outside of the bare essentials makes a story feel fleshed out, but again, a little can go a long way. If you’ve got lots of “fun” worldbuilding bits that don’t actually forward your plot and aren’t relevant to your characters, cut them. You can always put them as extras in your blog later, but they’ll just make your story clunky if you have a lot of them.

Beware of info-dumps. Often finding a more natural way to integrate that information - showing instead of telling in bits throughout the story - can help reduce word count.

Alternatively - if you over-show, and never tell, this will vastly increase your word count, so consider if there are any places in your story where you can gloss over the details in favor of a shorter more “tell-y” description. You don’t need to go into a minute description of every smile and laugh - sometimes it’s fine to just say, “she was happy” or “she frowned” without going into a long description of their reaction that makes the reader infer that they were happy. (Anyone who unconditionally says “show, don’t tell,” is giving you bad writing advice. It’s much more important to learn to recognize when showing is more appropriate, and when telling is more appropriate, because no story will function as a cohesive whole if it’s all one or all the other.)

If you’ve got long paragraphs, they’re often prime places to look for entire sentences to cut. Read them critically and consider what’s actually helping your story instead of just adding word count chonk.

Try reading some or all of the dialog out loud; if it gets boring, repetitive, or unnecessary, end your scene wherever you start to lose interest, and cut the dialog that came after. If necessary, add a sentence or two of description at the end to make sure the transition is abrupt, but honestly, you often won’t even need to do so - scenes that end at the final punchy point in a discussion often work very well.

Create a specific goal for a scene or chapter. Maybe it’s revealing a specific piece of information, or having a character discover a specific thing, or having a specific unexpected event occur, but, whatever it is, make sure you can say, “this scene/chapter is supposed to accomplish this.” Once you know what you’re trying to do, check if the scene met that goal, make any necessary changes to ensure it does, and cut things that don’t help the scene meet that goal.

Building on the previous one, you can do the same thing, but for your entire story. Starting from the beginning, re-outline the story scene-by-scene and/or chapter-by-chapter, picking out what the main “beats” and most important themes are, and then re-read your draft and make sure you’re hitting those clearly. Consider cutting out the pieces of your story that don’t contribute to those, and definitely cut the pieces that distract from those key moments (unless, of course, the distraction is the point.)

Re-read a section you think could be cut and see if any sentences snag your attention. Poke at that bit until you figure out why - often, it’s because the sentence is unnecessary, poorly worded, unclear, or otherwise superfluous. You can often rewrite the sentence to be clearer, or cut the sentence completely without negatively impacting your work.

Be prepared to cut your darlings; even if you love a sentence or dialog exchange or paragraph, if you are working to a strict word count and it doesn't add anything, it may have to go, and that's okay...even though yes, it will hurt, always, no matter how experienced a writer you are. (Tip? Save your original draft, and/or make a new word doc where you safely tuck your darlings in for the future. Second tip? If you really, really love it...find a way to save it, but understand that to do so, you’ll have to cut something else. It’s often wise to pick one or two favorites and sacrifice the rest to save the best ones. We are not saying “always cut your darlings.” That is terrible writing advice. Don’t always cut your darlings. Writing, and reading your own writing, should bring you joy, even when you’re doing it professionally.)

If you’re having trouble recognizing what in your own work CAN be cut, try implementing the above strategies in different places - cut things, and then re-read, and see how it works, and if it works at all. Sometimes, you’ll realize...you didn’t need any of what you cut. Other times, you’ll realize...it no longer feels like the story you were trying to tell. Fiddle with it until you figure out what you need for it to still feel like your story, and practice that kind of cutting until you get better at recognizing what can and can’t go without having to do as much tweaking.

Lastly...along the lines of the previous...understand that sometimes, cutting your story down to a certain word count will just be impossible. Some stories simply can’t be made very short, and others simply can’t be told at length. If you’re really struggling, it’s important to consider that your story just...isn’t going to work at that word count. And that’s okay. Go back to the drawing board, and try again - you’ll also get better at learning what stories you can tell, in your style, using your own writing voice, at different word counts. It’s not something you’ll just know how to do - that kind of estimating is a skill, just like all other writing abilities.

As with all our writing advice - there’s no one way to tackle cutting stories for length, and also, which of these strategies is most appropriate will depend on what kind of story you’re writing, how much over-length it is, what your target market is, your characters, and your personal writing style. Try different ones, and see which work for you - the most important aspect is to learn to read your own writing critically enough that you are able to recognize what you can cut, and then from that standpoint, use your expertise to decide what you should cut, which is definitely not always the same thing. Lots of details can be cut - but a story with all of the flavor and individuality removed should never be your goal.

Contributions to this post were made by @unforth, @jhoomwrites, @alecjmarsh, @shealynn88, @foxymoley, @willablythe, and @owlishintergalactic, and their input has been used with their knowledge and explicit permission. Thanks, everyone, for helping us consider different ways to shorten stories!

#writing advice #duck prints press #original content

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lesetoilesfous · 4 years ago

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HOWWWWW DID YOU MANY TO DESTROY ME IN JUST A FEW PARAGRAPHS 😭 (re: recent Fenders prompt 😭) I DEMAND FLUFF IN REPARATION

(jk it was absolutely beautiful, even if it broke my heart into a million tiny pieces and made cry 😭💖) BUT should you feel up to more Fenders: “pushing a strand of hair behind their ear” from the touch prompt list? 🥺 (or literally anything soft 🥺)

Aaaaaaah hahaha I’m so incredibly flattered. ONE DAY I will write the definitely not too angsty fic about Anders answering his calling days before the HoF finds a cure BUT in the mean time, your wish for fluff is my command. I hope you enjoy this!

(If you’d like me to write you a dragon age fic, send me a prompt from here!)

@dadrunkwriting

Pairing: Fenders

Characters: Anders, Fenris

Tags: modern-ish AU, liberal use and abuse of the Ser Aveline myth, also pseudo-medieval fairytale storytelling, it’s just fluff all the way down, also brief cameo by google translated gaelic I can only ask forgiveness for my sins

Rating: Mature

“And so the maiden turned, and seized the fallen knight’s sword and shield, and turned upon the creature and said, “I am no simple noble, ready to lay down before your slaughter. I am a knight.” And the creature saw that it had been mistaken, for this was no mere maiden, but Ser Aveline herself, with hair as red as the flames of our Lady’s pyre, standing mighty with her fallen companion’s shield in one hand and her sword in the other. The creature turned, howling, and fled back into the forest, and Ser Aveline threw aside the sword and shield and tumbled to her lover’s side, gently pushing back her hair. But it was all for naught, as Ser Marie had been taken to Our Maker’s side. And so Ser Aveline wept, such sobs, it is said, that even now the trees in that place echo her weeping, and bushes of Spindleweed grow and choke the clearing.”

Fenris’ voice is deep and rich as he reads, brass-rimmed glasses reflecting the flickering red light of the fire. The lyrium on his skin refracts the light strangely in a dull iridescence, like moonlight in fog or glitterdust. Fenris’ hands move, gingerly turning the page of the book as he reads on. An illustration of Ser Aveline mourning her lost love is cut in black ink, bleeding green watercolours and dripping blue for mourning. Against the soft, warm weight of Fenris’ chest, Anders shifts a little. At the end of the sofa, their legs are a warm tangle. Libertas sits over their feet on the back of the sofa with her eyes shut and purrs. On the rug on the floor beside them, Fidelis is curled in a ball like the puppy she used to be. Fenris’ free hand hangs over the side of the sofa and lazily scratches her ears.

“Ser Aveline swore a vow that day that she would never love again. But unbeknownst to her, the Maker had other plans. For no sooner had she left Brecilian forest, than she was a stopped by a cohort of Dalish warriors. Ser Aveline was a mighty knight, and she understood that she would not be able to beat back every Dalish arrow. So instead she raised her hands in surrender, and asked whether she might speak to the leader of so fine a battalion. And it was then that she laid eyes on the second great love of her life: Feynlasan. He was a warrior whose skill with a blade was unparalleled by any except Ser Aveline herself, and he had long served as a mighty protector of his people. Ser Aveline recognised her new acquaintance by reputation, for she had heard in great detail of the tattoos that Feynlasan wore on his skin. Therefore she gave Feynlasan a warrior’s greeting, and clasped her first to her chest. Feynlasan was surprised by this, because he had not expected such courtesy from a human woman.”

Fenris’ mouth pulls into a wry smile, and Anders tilts his head to grin up at him, wriggling to sit up a little. Fenris lets him, moving his arm from around Anders’ shoulders and shifting until his back is resting against Anders’ chest. The smell of woodsmoke is rich in the air between them, and the red and gold upholstery of their sofa is soft and thick with embroidery. Anders drops an absent kiss onto Fenris’ head as he continues, and Fenris moves to pet Anders’ knee before he goes on.

“Ser Aveline stayed with Feynlasan and his people for ninety days and ninety nights, and in this time they taught her the ways of the Dalish elves, and schooled her in their arts of archery. It is said, even, that she won a prized set of Ironbark armour, a material that can be worked only by the Dalish, (much to the envy of Dwarven artisans, even now),” Again, Fenris’ voice curls with his smile before he goes on, “She won these raiments in a ritual hunt, a test of strength and skill - the aim of which was not to kill but instead to befriend one of the elves’ strange and mighty Halla. She returned with her steed, C’ablaigh, whose name in their language means Fleet Footed. For these she was rewarded with Ironbark armour, and many more gifts besides.”

On the rug, Fidelis yawns, a great high pitched thing, and sets her head down on her paws. Against the walls, the shadows lie thick and heavy, shivering only occasionally with the movement of passing traffic on the road.

“Halfway through Ser Aveline’s time with the Dalish, she was taking water in the river at night when she sawan apparition, seemingly woven of the moonlight. This spirit took the form of Ser Marie, and spoke to her, and this was the seventh of the many miracles Ser Aveline was gifted by the Maker.”

Behind Fenris, Anders’ eyes begin to drift shut as his shoulders relax against the soft stuffed arm of the sofa. In the grate, the fire is low and amber, occasionally murmuring like a sleeping dragon. Anders can feel the low rumble of Fenris’ voice in his chest, and the sensation is as familiar as his heartbeat. Fenris’ fingers turn the page, and the lyrium of them glows dully in the dark. A strand of white hair slips forward from behind his ear, and absently Anders reaches out and tucks it back. As he does so, Fenris turns and presses a dry kiss to the heel of his palm. Anders sighs, and lets his arms fall to wrap around Fenris’ belly.

Fenris goes on, reading from the beautifully illuminated book of fairytales that Hawke claimed was once an Amell family heirloom. On the page facing the cramped, gothic black ink print, there is a beautiful illustration of Ser Aveline leaning down from a balcony bound in ivy toward Feynlasan, himself reaching up for her.

“And so it was, after speaking with the spirit of her lost love, that Ser Aveline allowed Feynlasan to court her. And after ninety days and ninety nights, he had fallen utterly in love with her, though her own heart was still a secret to him. Still, Feynlasan confessed his love to fair Ser Aveline, and requested that when she left the Dales and their secret glades, he might accompany her on her quest. And she was uncertain, because she knew what a valuable warrior he was to his people. But he assured her that he had trained them himself, and knew that any one of his apprentices could best him at swordplay. And so Aveline asked for this to be demonstrated to her, and when the performance was done she stepped into the ring, because she was afraid that Feynlasan’s heart might have betrayed him and his people both. But when the elvhen warriors defeated her as well, she was satisfied, and agreed that Feynlasan might accompany her. And so it was that Feynlasan went with her from that place, and remained by her side for many years.”

Fenris’ voice echoes into the living room of the house he and Anders had bought together. On the carpet, Fidelis is snoring, and on the back of the sofa Libertas has tucked her head into her forepaws, curled like an ink comma with her tail tucked against her belly. Behind Fenris, Anders’ breath blows softly against his head like a warm breeze, and his chest rises and falls in slow, deep breaths. A smile touches the corner of Fenris’ lips, and gingerly he closes the book and sets it on the coffee table. Stifling a yawn, he slips off his glasses and sets them on the cover.

He should go to bed. Both of them should.

Instead, Fenris tugs up a knitted wool blanket that Merrill had given them from where it has become trapped between Anders’ legs and the sofa cushions. Lazily, he tugs it over them and turns over on Anders’ chest, setting his ear over his lover’s heart. He falls asleep listening to the slow, steady beat. When he dreams, he dreams of knights and fairytales and flashing red-blonde hair.

#dadwc #my fic #fenders #fenris #anders #da2 #simper-fi #i hope you enjoy!!

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nightswithkookmin · 4 years ago

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Hello Goldy 💜 So JK dint post for Jin and so does Tae. Both of them di t post for Jinins bday also. Whats going on here ? I dont understand if JK and Tae have been banned from posting on their boyfriends bday. As u can tell i am both Jikook and Taejin shipper. What do u think is happening or should i say not happening.

This topic...

Hold on, lemme put on my tinfoil hat:

I got nothing. Lol.

Secondly, aaaaah Tae Kook!

Lol. Tae Kook. The evil power duo of BTS, my favorite rageddy boogie men of ship street Avenue, PPP- pathological party poopers of Bangtan fantasyland- stomping on shipper's parade, putting commas in people's hopes and dreams. Y'all didn't get the memo? When we said y'all be snatching hearts, this is not the kind of horror heart snatching we was talking about! Y'all ratchet for this shit. Lol.

Someone give them the memo. Atatatatatat.

Lmho.

I mean for Jk, I've already speculated a few times- several times now, how I feel he's kind off been on a self assertive journey since late 2019 and coupled with a lot of things I felt was happening with him, Jimin and group around that period, that him not posting for the members' birthdays sort of make a lot of sense to me.

I've also speculated on what I felt was going on with Kook, RM and Tae around JM's birthday this year, so Tae not posting for JM also sort of made sense to me?

Tae missed Jimin's birthday as well. It would have been 'problematic' in today's social media climate if he posted for any body else within the group after that. It's the same with JK when he missed Jin's birthday last December- had he posted for anybody else, I'm afraid several trucks would have been sent to BigHit HQ demanding his head on a spike. Chileee.

Can't blame them though. Even the members themselves, during 2017 Festa, descended hard on JK for gifting a present to Jimin and not the others- they pay attention to these things, you know? Jin in his recent VLive had said he had been up waiting for texts and all- or something along the lines of that, and I'm pretty sure he pays attention to who posts what on their Twitter account on his birthday. Well we know Jimin does this too. Lol.

You don't need to be a mad scientist to figure out that one member posting for another and not the others would make the members feel some kind of way about it even if they don't say it out loud.

Frankly, like I said, I feel they set themselves up for this shit- miss one, miss them all or risk solo stans coming for your ass. That's how we roll on these fang gang streets. Lol.

But for Kook, I sort of felt his was deliberate- may be an impulsive decision at the time, but deliberate nonetheless. I mean he had all 24 hours post Jin's birthday to belate that shit- better late than never, but he didn't do that.

Whatever had transpired within that period- which I've speculated on in past posts, I feel that had pushed him to his breaking point and had incentivized him or propelled him to reel back, reevaluate his goals, intentions, purpose, calling- whatever you wanna call it, and eventually had embarked on a journey to reassert himself and take back control of his life all throughout 2020- until recent times...

- Y'all see Jikook's dynamics have flipped again post Jimin's birthday right? Clear your schedules. We gone talk. Soon. Muhahaha.

I don said, Jikook have/had been asserting themselves against eachother and against the group this year. And for Jk, that self assertion would come in the form of him putting up boundaries and reinforcing already existing boundaries among other things, which would in turn require him demanding and demonstrating his independence from anything and anyone he had relinquished his self autonomy to- prior to. In my opinion.

I'm gonna step on a few toes here and regurgitate, JK didn't just take a step back from his life, he took a step back from Jimin as well, in my opinion- I can literally hear temperatures rising. Chilee. Lmho.

It's easy to lose yourself in the process of loving someone. And when you love this person more than you love yourself, in the thick of love, under heavy public and peer scrutiny, where you are being told to change this and that about yourself everyday and everytime as a prerequisite for being able to love this person you want within a group; then you are bound to end up with nothing but the total eradication of who you are at your core or at least a drift away from your true self and the expressions of it... Sigh.

I mean all the, 'try not to be so possessive, he's our friend too' 'operation neutralize Jikook' 'chilee, don't lean too much into him, this is an award' 'I've got Jimin, restrain Kook' 'oh I think you stared too long here' 'look away' 'you got him a present, why didn't you get us any' 'is that your heart eyes?' 'Tuck it away' 'why do you film Jimin a lot?' 'use this person, not Jimin for your GCF if you want the clicks' 'GCF in Tokyo? How about OT7 in wherever mate?' - all these little tweaks and adjustments he's had to make to his personality and his expressions of self in order to hide his relationship within the group climaxes honestly. In my opinion. And late 2019 to me was that peak for JK. Again, in my opinion.

Changes like these don't come drastically. They creep up on you. Its slippery slope till you're caught knee deep in the mud. For instance, notice when the members complained about him not caring for them because he hadn't presented them with gifts like he did Jimin, he had agreed immediately to give them presents in the future in order to not answer to their question of why he had chosen to give just Jimin a present. That compromise to me was one of the early signs of him losing his authenticity. In my opinion.

Jimin and the members were quick to point out that he didn't have to do that because giving and gifting were not obligations and honestly they were right. He doesn't have to do things if he doesn't want to.

That's the paradox of Jungkook. He does the things he wants to do without shame and he is fearless and unapologetic about it. But you see, he is also often very passive when it comes to the things he doesn't want to do and would hesitate in insisting on his boundaries until he is pushed to his limits- from my observation of his interactions with the members and I think Suga and RM have talked about this too.

A classic example of this is his conversation with Jimin about their friendship- when Jimin said they were in between love and friends. His hesitation was a sign he was uncomfortable with that description but he didn't assert himself over it.

Another example would be Jimin saying during their log that he was taking a liking to JK- JK didn't react as much but JM turning to ask him if he was ok with him saying things like that was a sign they had had the talk about 'boundaries.'

JK is a very assertive person but his position as the youngest within the group places a lot of restrictions on his assertiveness I feel.

We talk a lot about Jimin being Kumbaya and sacrificing a lot of their personal happiness for the good of the group- well, I've been talking. Y'all don't say shit much- fuxking lurkers 😒 y'all suck. Lol. [Delete before you post, you idiot. They don't know you like that]

Anywho, we often talk about Jimin in this context but we- by we, I mean I, don't talk enough about all the ways JK often sacrifices his authenticity for the Kumbaya of the group as well. But unlike Jimin, I feel JK does it so he can keep his glass closet- fucking whippidy whip whipped. Lol.

And it's crazy because that sacrifice he makes of his true feelings and it's expression is what often leads people to question whether he acts exclusively with JM at all.

Often I hear shippers complain about how he did this with Jimin but he did similar thing with another member- listen, if you've heard JK sigh upon seeing RM imitating his mannerisms to try to neutralize his nonverbal gestures around Jimin, you'd understand what exclusivity means for him.

And when, you think about that he had to apologize to and explain himself for choosing to wear his man's bag over another member- it's not hard to see where his authentic self began to erode- It started from the moment the apologies begun. Never apologize for who you are- class dismissed. Lol.

Then he goes on to talk about losing his passions for his GCFs, his music- this is a person everyone within the group had said is or was the most passionate member within the group... You gotta wonder where it all went wrong. Know what I mean? Come on work me. I'm writing this at 2am. Lol.

I think Jimin was right when he said giving should never be a task. You should give from your heart and from your own free will. Not for show, and certainly not to please anyone.

Wishing a member a happy birthday should never be a duty, task or obligation- especially when such moments and expressions of it has become performative over the years rather than as true expressions of the love and affections they have for eachother- ok, I'm dozing off now. Lmho.

I mean let's face it, posting on Twitter for eachother has become more of a culture and an established tradition within the group that sentimental members within the group hold on to.

The birthday twitter post has been hijacked and lowkey/highkey advances the OT7 kumbaya agenda BigHit is bent on pushing and sells the BTS bromance fantasy to us rather than an actual representation of their love for eachother. In my opinion. I could be wrong about this.

JK asserting himself would mean him choosing not to participate in expressions that to him are performative, shallow and lacks depth whatsoever.

I know what you are gonna say- but but Jimin's birthday. But but but nothing. Lol. I have said I felt he was going to post for Jimin's birthday. Dude geared up for it with the 5/8 and everything.

And given as he's been on a journey to do the things he wants to and to pursue meaning in his expressions of self within the group, I feel and I believe he believes wishing his man a happy birthday on social is meaningful- Confirmation bias this shit. Lol.

Not that the act itself is meaningful, but that the act holds meaning to Jimin. I think I've talked extensively about Jimin and how important his birthday is to him. The only reason I feel he wouldn't or didn't post for him was if Jimin had asked him not to- which I believe he did. Posting for Jimin would have been tantamount to outing their relationship gangster style. Lol.

And we all know how the members feel about that. Smirk.

So no, I don't think he's been banned from posting for his man's birthday. I think this is him deciding not to partake in performative expressions of love- perhaps because that has never been him?

I don't know for Tae's Journey. His decision not to post feels very random to me. Who knows, he and JK have been talking a lot lately it seems and getting closer post Sope. So if you ask me, this perhaps is him taking a page out of JK's self help book and pursuing that authenticity of self expressions I've talked about?

I mean he did do awesome things for Jin's birthday so I don't think we can complain much. Getting his friends to wish Jin a happy birthday certainly pulls weight over a second post on Twitter. Jin got a birthday party with the members, RM had the same.....

The thing that bothers me and my friends over here about Jikook's incident is the lack of closure after that traumatizing experience.

With the others JK didn't post for, at least we got to see him in a VLive with them interacting and just giving us moments here and there. So even if he didn't post, we know he was with them and they shared the memory of that day together- which I feel is what we shippers want. For them to show eachother love- whatever way they express it.

With Jimin- Nada. Zero. Zilch. We got nothing my guy. Jimin didn't share any insight or give any details remotely resembling closure for us. We were hoping for a bangtan bomb or Episode but nothing so far. I hate it here.

We didn't get to see JK showing the love we know he feels for Jimin- he's proven time and again he loves that man. We didn't get to see them share the memories of that day together. Not even through narration- Jimin, you sonova bish! Lol.

Would I ever move on from that incident? No.

Do I want to move on from that incident- chileee I've been trying. It would haunt me for the rest of my Jikook life. Lol. I still get get nightmares thinking about it and it's Christmas. Sigh.

I think we would have to observe rather than anticipate how they choose to express and communicate their love for one another- especially Jikook and by extension Taejin- chilee Anon, I respect your hustle. Lol.

I don't blame you though. I mean sometimes Jin be looking like he wants to gobb-ok

What was your question again? Lol. I hope I answered it. Chilee. Keep supporting Jikook.

Signed,

GOLDY

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jaalismyhusband · 4 years ago

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Magical apple

Title: Magical apple

Pairings: Chris Evans x f!reader

Warnings: RPF, tooth-rotting, cheesy stuff, me not knowing where to put commas (yikes XD)

Wordcount: 1.7k

A/N: Hi, everyone! *ehm* this was supposed to be a drabble, but I snapped. Thanks to my brain for the prompt, this was a very pleasant dream to dream, buddy. Anyways! Hope you enjoy this floofy piece, because I’ve got a hella angsty WiP series about Geralt a.k.a. the butcher of my heart. Thanks for reading!!

beta’d by @6crazyboutcruise9

Masterlist

You were working as a professor at the local university. You always knew, that forcing students to attend your classes was no way to make them like you and actually listen. No, you had to engage with them outside of the class too. So, you focused not only on the lectures, but on the out-of-school activities as well. That meant organizing some charity work, workshops, debates with interesting people and so on.

To say you were shocked when you booked Chris Evans for one of the debates, would be an understatement. You were even more nervous than your students, but you couldn’t let it show. Being the ever-supporting professor, you reassured them that they will do just fine, because they were your smart students after all. They seemed to relax a bit at that.

Encouraged, you all went to greet Mr. Evans and you offered him a coffee, which he was quick to accept. You could sense he was upset about something, but it wasn’t your place to ask him what’s wrong. Soon after your interaction, he was ushered on the stage by another professor, who shoved a microphone in his hand, wishing him good luck.

The lecture went splendidly, now it was time for an autograph session, where students could get their own three minutes with Mr. Evans. One of your colleagues announced it and students were quick to form a line.

It seemed like it went on and on for hours, but Mr. Evans was somehow still polite to every single person. Even if the questions were repetitive, he answered them with patience. You were near him, just in case he needed something. However, you were a single woman as well, so from time to time your eyes may or may not have lingered on him longer, than they should’ve.

You mentally scolded yourself and focused on the actual questions he was being asked. You were proud of your students for coming up with the interesting, difficult, philosophical and even some weird questions. Thankfully, they hadn’t asked about personal things, until they did. The line was coming to an end and now it was mostly students from other classes, even other schools. You could tell those questions were bothering Mr. Evans and it was only adding to his frustration.

“Next!” you called. There was only one person left, a young girl.

“Finally!” she huffed as she came up to Mr. Evans. “So, I don’t have time for you, I only want you to give my number to Tom Holland.” With that she dropped a piece of paper on the table in front of him, turned on her heels and left. Without saying hi, please or bye. He looked almost frozen as he tried to take in what had just happened. You wanted to comfort him somehow, but his manager had already asked to follow him. You watched them leave next door, where you had previously set up a kind of a break room for him.

An idea popped up in your mind. You went to your cabinet and made him a fresh coffee. You were impatient and excited to have only as much as five minutes alone with him. You poured the coffee in the take-it-to-go cup and hurried to the next room. Just as you neared the door, they opened and you saw his manager leave, meaning you would, indeed, be alone with him. Perfect, you thought as you entered.

He was leaning back in the chair, with his hair all fluffy. Your eyes ran over his face, finding his brows adorably scrunched above his closed eyes, his beard trimmed neatly. A cozy looking blue sweater hid his muscled torso and the dark jeans hugged his thighs, rushing bunch of sinful thoughts through your mind.

“Are you going to say something or just keep staring?” his deep voice startled you from your daydream. You mumbled a quick apology and tried to hide the creeping blush on your face.

“Mr. Evans, I noticed your first coffee went cold, so I thought I’d make you a fresh one.” You offered him a warm smile along with the cup.

“Y/N, right? Thanks, that’s very considerate of you. And, please, call me Chris.” You swore he winked at you just before bringing the cup to his mouth, taking a sip of the steamy beverage. You felt your face heating up again and you squirmed under his gaze.

Leaning on the wall, you let him enjoy his coffee in silence. You used the moment to gather all molecules of bravery in you to ask him: “I don’t mean to be nosy, but you seemed distressed earlier…”

“You mean even before that cherry on top of the autograph session? I guess, I’m not as good of an actor as I thought I was.” You appreciated him trying to lift the mood, but something about his face expression told you, he didn’t want you to let it go.

“No need to put on a brave face, here. I’ll tell you what, Chris. There’s a really nice park near here. Aaand I’ve been told I’m a good listener. So, what do you say to a walk? If you don’t mind me being so forward, of course.” You seemed to realize your words too late, as they already hung heavy in the air. You just asked THE Chris Evans out. An unnerving silence occurred as you awaited his answer.

“Why the hell not,” he sighed.

“Perfect,” you smiled at him. “Let me just get my things and I’ll meet you outside in 5.” With that you left, still unable to believe you were about to hang out with literally a man of your dreams.

As promised, you joined him in front of the building and led him to the park. You spent those few minutes getting to know each other a little bit and, if you weren’t any wiser, you would have said that Chris was flirting with you.

You arrived to the park, taking a stroll, admiring the blooming flowers. It was a warm spring afternoon, summer was just around the corner. You arrived to a small secluded spot with a table and benches on either side.

“This is where I spend my lunch breaks. It’s my special place.” You smiled, reminiscing of all the times you got lost in a book, ate your favourite food, hell, even cried over bad days in this very spot.

“I’m honoured,” joked Chris. You playfully smacked his arm and ordered him to sit down. He caught you off guard when he chose a seat next to you, rather than the opposite one.

“I can’t tell you how many bad days have been eliminated here. This place is indeed magical. You wanna try?”

“Sure.” He proceeded to tell you about his rough past days. As you were listening, you found yourself hanging on every word he said, you seemed almost bewitched by his soothing voice. You didn’t have to force yourself to listen, you simply did. It was so easy to get lost in the conversation with him, even though it wasn’t about pleasant topic.

“Sometimes, I just want to be an ordinary person like everyone else and not have to deal with people like that girl, for example. Gosh, I don’t know why, but that really got under my skin.” He finished his rant and you reassured, that it’s fine to feel that way.

“That girl was probably just the breaking point, I wouldn’t fuss ‘bout her. Here,” you reached into your bag and pulled out an apple, “this will make you feel better.” You placed it in front of him, and nudged him to take a bite.

“An apple?” he burst out laughing. Your cheeks were hot by now, no doubt.

“It’s a… Magical apple?” that only seemed to make him laugh more, as he leaned back in his seat, touching his chest. If you weren’t upset about him laughing at your offering, you would’ve found the gesture cute.

It was a yummy looking apple, though. If he isn’t going to eat it, then I will, you thought as you reached for the apple. However, he must’ve changed his mind, because he, too, reached for it, making your hands touch. You felt like in a scene from a romcom, as you felt a spark when your fingers brushed against each other.

You were too flustered to say anything, when he gave you a heart-melting smile. He seemed to lean in. When did he get so close?!

“Chris…” you whispered, your mouth dry, all of a sudden. He shushed you and pecked your lips, leaving you even more flustered. Your ears were burning, and you immediately pulled your hands to cover your face, leaving the apple unguarded.

“Got it!” he triumphantly said and took a bite of the apple, exaggerating the moans: “Mhm, you said this was magical?”

“Not fair, sir! You used your charm to distract me!” you played along, pouting.

“Hm, you think I’m charming?” he seemed amused by how shy you were and how easy it was to get you flustered.

“Shut up, you know what I meant.” You huffed in defeat as you crossed your arms on your chest. Chris only smirked as he finished the apple.

After a while you shivered, the warm afternoon turned into a chilly night. Neither of you noticed, too enthralled in each other.

Chris didn’t miss how you hugged your arms, desperately trying to warm yourself up.

“You’re cold?” It was more a statement, than a question, but you still nodded, anyway. He took off his sweater, leaving him only in a plain white short-sleeve.

“Here, put it on.” He grabbed your arms, to pull them up, in order to dress you.

“No, really, it’s fine. You don’t have to do this.” You whined, but it fell on deaf ears. Chris dressed you in his sweater and you had no say in it. To be honest, you weren’t about to complain. Musky smell with hints of cedarwood engulfed you and you almost snuggled into the sweater more, but stopped yourself at the last moment, not wanting to be weird.

“Thanks,” you shyly said, as you took in his broad shoulders and big arms. Arms, that were totally bare, because of you.

“Ohmygod! You’ll get cold!” Without thinking you hugged him tightly, only for him to wrap his arms around your small frame.

“As long as you’re with me, I’ll never get cold,” he whispered into your hair, after he left a small kiss on your temple.

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans ff #chris evans fluff #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #fanfiction #fluff #tom holland #rpf #rpf fanfic #real person fiction

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mst3kproject · 5 years ago

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The River of the Giant Alligator

A bunch of Italians pretending they’re not Italian in a movie about a guy who chose the wrong place to build a hotel… it’s like Avalanche by way of Devil Fish, with an alligator. And racism. You can’t have a 70’s Italian jungle movie without the racism, and this one layers it on real thick. I think The River of the Giant Alligator has its MST3K bases covered.

Rich Asshole Joshua has opened Paradise House, a resort in the middle of the ‘virgin jungle’. He proudly tells visitors that not only has he left the surrounding ecosystem undamaged, but he’s helping the local people by giving them jobs and improving their standard of living. Naturally it’s not as simple as that. Trouble begins when Sheena, the model they brought for their advertising photographs (just for a dash of Killer Fish), vanishes overnight. Photographer Daniel and hotel manager Ally go to the locals looking for her, and are told that the River God has awakened and intends to drive the white people away by assuming the form of a giant crocodile and eating them all. Considering how mind-bogglingly stupid the tourists in this movie are, that should take all of twenty minutes.

The locals, who call themselves the Kuma, have a name for their River God but it’s pronounced five different ways and I won’t guess how to spell it. Because of the deep breathing sounds that presage its first appearance, I shall call the creature Darth Gator.

Let’s get the basics out of the way first. The whole movie is dubbed and the voice actors are bad. The Darth Gator prop is completely immobile but they mostly keep it in the dark or in really tight shots so we don’t notice… it’s only the occasional ill-advised wide shot where it’s obviously fake enough to be funny. There’s a spiky fence that exists mostly so that people can get impaled on it and a cloying little kid for no reason whatsoever. The ‘wildlife’ is a stock footage smorgasbord that includes orangutans and hippos on the same river. The worst effect in the film is a terrible miniature shot of the hotel on fire, which would have looked just fine if the people involved hadn’t forgotten that flames don’t scale.

So all that sucks, but is fairly harmless. Now let’s talk about the racism.

We’ll start with the movie’s treatment of its two ‘love stories’, and I use the floating commas because neither of them quite qualifies. Daniel and Ally are the main ‘couple’ of the movie. The camera lingers on each of them to show that he thinks she’s beautiful and she thinks he’s rugged, and they spend the whole movie hanging out on balconies and boats together and discussing whether the resort is good or bad for the local people… but they never get so much as a kiss. This is kind of nice, actually, because there’s very little time to stop and make out when you’re being chased by a large carnivorous reptile. It does, however, make for a hell of a contrast between them and the other ‘couple’ we see.

This is the model, Sheena, and her Kuma boyfriend. I am unclear on where this movie is set (the closest we get to a clue is Ally referring to the area as ‘the Orient’, which could honestly mean anything) but it’s perfectly clear that the reason they hired a black woman for their publicity photos is to make the place look ‘exotic’. There’s a weird moment when Joshua attempts to flirt with Sheena by telling her, “it occurs to me that Eve herself may have been black”, which… yes, that is how human evolution worked, what about it? All that aside, at the end of the day, Sheena runs off for a romantic evening with one of the tribesmen. We never see her talk to this guy or have any clue what made her pick him over any of the others. They just go fuck on a beach and then get eaten by an alligator.

So… we have blonde, blue-eyed white people having a perfectly chaste, wait-for-marriage love affair in which they actually get to know each other… and black people who run off with a stranger and screw out in the open like animals. Holy shit. I want to say I hope this wasn’t something the film-makers actively thought about, but it might be worse if they didn’t. Naturally, this is also a version of the ‘people who have premarital sex must die’ trope from slasher movies, and the movie makes doubly sure we know this is Bad Behaviour by having Ally remark that the Kuma are forbidden from visiting ‘the Island of Love’ on the full moon.

The deaths of Sheena and Nameless Kuma Guy also begin a pattern that lasts almost the entire movie. Even though we’re told, repeatedly, that Darth Gator wants to drive the white people out of his jungle, for the vast majority of the running time it’s the brown people who are getting chomped. We’re told that twelve white missionaries came here years ago and Darth Gator ate all but one of them, who then became a crazy jungle man (not gonna lie, Father Jonathan was my favourite character and I wish we’d seen more of him). We see Sheena, her boyfriend, and the boyfriend’s brother get eaten alive. Furthermore, most of the white deaths in the movie are at the hands of the Kuma, who run in and kill the tourists with spears and fire arrows in the belief that they’re doing their god’s bidding, and much of this happens offscreen. Those hit by the arrows quickly fall into the water and vanish from sight. The only time the camera lingers on a white person dying is Joshua, who I guess they think deserved it. The impression one gets is that white death is a horror better implied than shown, while brown death is a spectacle. Again… holy shit.

The River of the Giant Alligator can’t seem to decide what we’re supposed to think about the Kuma people. Early in the film they’re portrayed as victims. These foreigners have invaded their land and built this giant hotel, and claimed to be helping them by giving them ‘work’. Ally notes that they’ll be able to live longer, healthier lives, but Daniel wonders if it’s worth it when they’ve basically become Joshua’s slaves. The movie leaves this question hanging there without exploring it any further. When Daniel and Ally come looking for information about the alligator attacks, the Kuma direct them to Father Jonathan, knowing they’re more likely to believe a white man, even one who’s obviously not quite all there. The movie really wants to be about the exploitation of indigenous peoples, treated as decorations and curiosities by white tourists.

The problem is, it wants to eat that cake, too. By the end of the story, the Kuma have devolved into stock savages. They attack the hotel and kill everybody, and kidnap Ally so they can tie her to a horizontal King Kong contraption as a sacrifice. The ending just makes it all the more confusing, as they turn up to discover that their god has been blown to bloody chunks after biting into a van full of explosives, and they cheer and they just leave. Is it really that easy to kill a god? Won’t a dead god demand vengeance anyway? Does this mean they actually like the white people after all, and were only angry because Darth Gator was eating them?

The ending also muddles the movie’s other point, about the nature of eco-tourism. One of the selling points of Paradise House is that it’s in the middle of virgin jungle. Joshua brags about how he’s left the surrounding ecosystem untouched – but then we cut straight to trees being cleared using dynamite, and later we see live piglets being thrown into the river to keep the crocodiles hanging around so people can gawk at them. You can’t build a hotel in the middle of a place and then call it ‘virgin jungle’. You’re the one who violated it!

The script is a little unclear on whether Darth Gator is a natural or supernatural threat. Ally and Daniel insist that it’s no mere alligator (I don’t think this movie knows the difference between crocodiles and alligators any better than I do) and Father Jonathan seems to believe it’s the Devil Himself, but it certainly dies like a flesh-and-blood creature. Whatever its nature, it’s clear enough that Darth Gator represents the jungle striking back at these intruders to drive them out. The Kuma literally say as much. So what are we to take from the fact that it dies at the end? Have we won the right to destroy the forest by killing its guardian? I don’t believe the people who make these movies think this stuff through.

I can tell that we’re supposed to hate the tourists, and we do, although not always for the reasons the movie wants us to. Minnow, the red-haired little girl who ‘only likes to play with boys’, tries so hard to be Adorable that you want to punt her across the room. Her mother leaves her to wander around the hotel alone, because Mummy’s got a smarmy mustached boyfriend to bang (even this relationship gets more attention than Sheena and Unnamed Kuma Guy, by the way… we are told that Mummy and Mustache have met before, and are here mostly to see each other rather than the jungle). Other notable annoyances include a lady who seems perfectly sane until she starts talking about the aliens, and a guy who loves to complain about Youth These Days and will seize any opportunity to do so.

I kinda wanna gripe about these obnoxious characters, but I don’t feel like I can. You may recall that I spent a month stuck on a cruise ship earlier this year. I can tell you definitively that these people do exist, and I hate them even more in real life.

Man, this could have been a fun monster movie. I’ve seen movies about man-eating crocodiles (or alligators… does it honestly matter that much?) that I really enjoyed. Primeval wasn’t even that bad – it was about how humans are more monstrous than anything nature can produce. Lake Placid had that immortal bit where Betty White says if I had a dick, this is where I’d tell you to suck it. The River of the Great Alligator is just boring bullshit and things that seem kinda racist on the surface but then you think about them a little longer and realize they’re incredibly racist. I went into this one hoping to like it, but it absolutely pissed on the last shreds of my optimism... like a lot of other things in 2020.

#mst3k #reviews #episodes that never were #the river of the great alligator #the great alligator #fuck this movie #fuck it so much #70s

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spanishskulduggery · 5 years ago

Note

do you have any tips on how to write a formal/polite email in Spanish? like, which greetings are good, how to end the email and so on. in my first language I would use the conditional tense for polite messages, but I'm not sure if it works the same way in Spanish, so any help would be appreciated!

Basic tips:

For polite things you want to address someone as estimado/a for “dear” along with their title...

Estimado Sr. + (last name), or Estimado Sr. + (full name)Estimada Sra. + (last name), or Estimada Sra. + (full name)

Note: Sr. is the abbreviation for señor so it’s like “Mr.”, and Sra. is “Mrs.” for señora

Note 2: If you’re addressing a young and unmarried woman, it’s common to use señorita or Srta for “Miss / Ms.” There’s no such title for a young or unmarried man, just señor/Sr.

Note 3: In English we use a comma after the salutation... in Spanish it’s a :

So you’d see...

Estimado Sr. Díaz: = Dear Mr. Diaz,

Estimada Sra. Díaz: = Dear Mrs. Diaz,Estimada Srta. Díaz: = Dear Ms. Diaz,

Similarly...

Estimados señores: = Dear sirs / Dear gentlemen

Estimadas señoras: = Dear ladies / Dear madams

If you don’t know who you’re addressing, there are a few options:

A quien corresponda: = To whom it concerns,

Estimado/a Sr./Sra.: = Dear Sir/Madam,

Estimado Sr. / Estimada Sra. = Dear Sir or Madam,

Estimado/a cliente: = Dear client,

Estimado/a empleado/a: = Dear employee,

Obviously go with a name if you have one, but in general you see Estimado/a Sr./Sra. a lot. In businesses when talking to clients or potential clients, it’s always estimado/a cliente which cliente is thankfully unisex.

Secondly, always make sure you’re using usted and make sure you’re using usted pronouns and conjugations. And when applicable, you have to be mindful of gender.

Same issue if it’s ustedes, and/or if ustedes happens to be all women.

Muchas gracias por su ayuda. = Thank you very much for your help.

Quiero hablar con Usted en cuanto tenga tiempo. = I would like to speak with you when you have time.

Quiero hablar con todos/todas Ustedes en cuanto tengan tiempo. = I would like to speak with all of you when you (all) have the time.

Quiero hablarle. = I would like to speak to you.Quiero hablarles. = I would like to speak to (all of) you.

Things like that.

(Also I’m pretty sure hablar con alguien and hablarle a alguien are pretty much the same; kind of the difference between “talk to” and “speak with”)

*Note: Some formal letters encourage you to capitalize Usted/Ustedes, others don’t.

As for when you sign off there are two basic ones for formal letters:

Atentamente.

Un cordial saludo. / Un saludo cordial.

atentamente is kind of like “anxiously (awaiting)” but gets translated as “sincerely” for letters.

And un saludo cordial is kind of like “kind regards” but literally is “cordial salutation”... Saying un cordial saludo is maybe a little more flowery.

I’ve also seen reciba un cordial saludo which is like “wishing you kind regards” but literally “may you receive a kind regard”. And reciban for plural.

You can also say cordialmente

In some cases I’ve seen sin otro particular, de despide or sin otro particular, se despide atentamente (de usted) which kind of reads as “that is where things are at present, so I will sign off” something like that. It’s basically like “I have nothing else to say so thanks and bye” but not literally obviously.

Really the most common one is atentamente

Now as for whether you should use the conditional tense or not, you don’t have to.

In general, you would say quiero instead of something like me gustaría for “I would like”, but you could use me gustaría in some cases if you wanted to.

This is the same issue as ordering food in Spanish, because in Spanish there’s no rudeness in saying quiero “I want” and it actually does translate as “I would like” in formal settings.

English for example has that inherent rudeness where if you say “I want” instead of “I would like”, it sounds like an order or you sound childish. In Spanish, quiero is just fine.

So in general, present tense will be just fine as long as you use polite language and make sure to use proper usted format.

Something like quiero pedirle un favor “I would like to ask a favor of you”, or quiero preguntarle algo “I would like to ask you a question” are totally fine and not at all rude.

There’s also ways to soften certain phrases like: tengo una pregunta si me permite “I have a question if you’ll allow me”. There are also times when you can use certain subjunctive phrases to soften language like ¿qué sugiere (usted) que (yo) haga? “what do you suggest that I do?”

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raccoon-wizard · 5 years ago

Text

It’s Okay Now

CHAPTER NO: 1/1

PROMPT: Bucky finds out that in the 21st century, it’s okay for men to wear makeup, nail polish, and glitter. I saw it somewhere on Tumblr and couldn’t resist.

RATING: Everyone, with some language

NOTES/WARNINGS: You know what I always say. Love to all human beings. I will tolerate zero bullying and hatred in my comments.

Also, Grammarly keeps bullying me for ignoring commas and some prepositions, but I swear to god, I’m not stupid. It’s a part of the characters’ speech patterns. Screw you.

It was a quiet weekend. Nearly everyone was gone - some went on a holiday with families, some were gone for missions. There were two people inside the Avengers Compound - Bucky Barnes, who passed on a road trip with Sam and Steve, and Eleri Prichard, who simply didn’t feel like leaving. She sat (if that’s what her position could be called - she was sprawled in the chair perpendicularly to the way one was supposed to sit, her legs resting on the armrest of the other chair) in the cinema room, lazily browsing through Netflix, stuffing her mouth with salted caramel popcorn.

“Mind if I join you?” asked Bucky from the door. She turned, her spine twisting unnaturally.

“Not at all, come on in,” she grinned widely. “Unless you mind me sitting like a big ol’ lesbian.”

“I sure as hell don’t,” he said and sat next to her. “What are we watching?”

“Queer Eye.”

Bucky flinched visibly. “You said queer?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Isn’t it… a bad… word?”

“Not anymore,” she told him. “We took it back from ‘em.”

He stayed silent for a while. “When?”

Eleri thought back to the extensive research she did in her teen years. “The eighties.”

They watched the show in silence, Bucky remembering all those times the word was spat into his face when he was young, along with other ones with similar weight.

“And it’s… normal for men to look like that?” he gestured towards Jonathan, who was dressed like his usual fabulous self.

“I mean, it’s not the norm, but tons of guys dress up now,” she said, pausing the show. “Why?”

“I never… when I was younger, I… I always wished…”

“Oooh,” she realised.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, swallowing the painful lump in his throat.

With a groan, she changed her position so she was now sitting like a normal person, turning to face him. “James Buchanan Barnes, it would be an honour to give you the glamorous makeover you deserve.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely.”

“Eleri… something…”

“Carol-Anne,” she finished for him.

“Eleri Carol-Anne Prichard,” he chuckled. “It would be an honour to have you give me a glamorous makeover.”

“That you deserve.”

“That I… deserve.”

“That’s my man, now come on,” she patted him on the shoulder and jumped up from her seat, offering him her hand. She dragged him upstairs to her room and sat him on the bed.

“You can’t ever tell anyone that you got all this from me,” Eleri told him as she pulled out a makeup bag from one of her drawers. “I have a reputation to uphold here, and if someone found out how much of this shit I have, it would shatter.”

“Roger that,” Bucky nodded with a smirk. Eleri threw the bag on the bed and sat down opposite of Bucky, crossing her legs.

“So,” she said. “Want just something small or full-on glam?”

“Uh… how about somewhere halfway?” he suggested.

“Smart move,” she agreed. “Just the basic stuff and a teeny tiny bit of glitter?”

“Sounds wonderful.”

For about twenty minutes, they were both silent as Eleri worked on glamming up Bucky’s face. With his eyes closed, he enjoyed the soft brushes sweeping around his cheeks, nose, forehead and eyes.

“Pucker up,” was the first thing Eleri said. “I’m gonna put on some lipgloss.”

Bucky complied, making Eleri burst out laughing immediately. “Not this much, genius.”

“Shut up,” he rolled his eyes.

There was another brief silence until Eleri said: “There. Done.”

Bucky tried to turn around to see himself in the big mirror on Eleri’s wardrobe, but she stopped him. “Nu-uh. Not done. We need to do your nails and pick you an outfit. Show me your nails.”

Bucky reluctantly gave her his hands. She took them into hers, bringing them close to her face. “You really need to stop biting ‘em.”

“I don’t do that.”

“Yes you do.”

“No.”

“Then what’s this?” she asked, shoving his own hand right in front of his eyes. “If that’s not you biting ‘em, then who? A perverted ghost?”

“I do it in my sleep,” he mumbled. “I… have bad dreams. And then wake up with bloody fingertips.”

Eleri bit her lip. “Sorry, didn’t mean to be rude.”

“‘S okay.”

“Maybe you could… sleep with gloves on,” she suggested. “You know, like mittens.”

“Or boxing gloves,” he smirked.

“I mean, sure,” she shrugged. “I’m pretty sure not even super soldier teeth could bite through those. Come on, let’s fix these bad boys.”

It took some time and squirming and writhing, but after that, Bucky’s nails looked almost like he had always been grooming them. However, he couldn’t help but voice his disdain for the nail file.

“It just feels weird!”

“Better get used to it if you want decent looking nails.”

“I hate it.”

“Everyone does in the beginning. At least you don’t have long ones, you do not want to hear the sound that makes.”

“Gross.”

“Shut up. And stop moving or your whole hand will be pink.”

“Why does it smell so awful?”

“‘Cause it’s nail polish. And you need to stop whining or I’ll put it somewhere you would not like it.”

“I don’t like it now anyway.”

“Shut your piehole, Barnes.”

As he waited for the colour to dry properly, Eleri went to her wardrobe to find him some clothes.

“Are you sure your stuff will fit me?” he asked doubtfully.

“Haven’t you noticed how I dress?” she scoffed. “My clothes will fit you just fine, trust me. And if not, I might have some that my exes left behind.”

“How’s your dating life anyway?”

“Ugh,” she rolled her eyes. “Everyone ends up ditching for someone normal,” she said. “What about you?”

“Like you don’t know,” he sighed. “The general public hates me and I don’t think dating on the team would be a good idea.”

“Loki has a thing for you,” she told him as she rummaged through her clothes. Bucky’s breath hitched.

“What thing?” he asked, feeling heat creep up into his cheeks.

Eleri turned around with a completely blank face. “You cannot be serious.”

“Well, I, uh-”

“He flirts with you like mad literally every time you two are in the same room!” she exclaimed. “And you flirt back, don’t argue with me.”

“I don’t f-”

“Oh my god,” she sighed dramatically. “You really are a disaster, aren’t you.”

“I thought he liked Wanda?”

“He did for a bit, but then he found out about her and Vis and decided to back off,” Eleri explained.

“Those two really love each other, don’t they?”

“Do not change the subject, James!” she scolded him. “You really haven’t noticed that Loki has a huge crush on you?”

“No, I have not.”

“You’re literally the only person that makes him blush!”

“Am I?”

Eleri groaned in frustration. “You’re the worst. What do you think about this jumper?”

Bucky, shocked by her sudden change of tone, stared at her with his eyes wide. “What?”

“Jumper. Do you like it?” she asked again.

“Why are you calling it a jumper?” he frowned.

“Because that’s what it is.”

“That’s a sweater.”

They didn’t settle on what it should be called, but they did agree that it would look nice on Bucky. Realising that his nails were still a little sticky, Eleri decided to help him put it on.

“Look at me, undressing a guy,” she laughed as she unbuttoned his shirt. “My parents would be so proud.”

Bucky chuckled. “Are they… not okay with you dating women?”

“They’re tolerating it at best,” she shrugged. “Raise your arms and press your lips together, you don’t want the lipgloss go everywhere.”

He did as he was told, allowing her to put the jumper on without major issues.

“And now for the final touch,” Eleri grinned, pulling a flower crown out of her closet.

“Are you sure?” Bucky frowned.

“Just try it on, I’m certain you’ll look cute as shit,” she insisted as she put it on his head. A few final adjustments and- “Oh my god you look gorgeous.”

“Can I look now?” he asked.

“Please do.”

She stepped out of his way so he could finally see himself in the huge mirror on her wardrobe. He took a few steps forward so he could get a better look and his jaw dropped ever so slightly.

When he wasn’t speaking for quite a long time, Eleri started to worry. “Do you… not like it? I can redo it if you’d like.”

“I love it,” he finally said.

“Really?” she asked. “Are you absolutely sure? I have plenty other colours in the-”

“Pink’s my favourite,” he smiled at her. “Always has been.”

For a few more moments, none of them said a word. “Thank you,” Bucky finally spoke up once more. “I’ve always wanted to feel like this.”

“You can borrow my stuff any time,” Eleri said. “As long as you don’t tell anyone I’m your provider.”

“May I hug you?”

“Hell yes.”

They embraced each other tightly and out of sheer joy, Eleri lifted Bucky up and spun him around, letting out a tiny gleeful squeal.

“I forgot how strong you are,” he chuckled once she put him down.

“Stupid strong, I know,” she smirked.

For the rest of the day, the two of them stayed in Eleri’s room, looking for inspiration and references for future experiments. They listened to some “aggressively gay” music, as Eleri called it, and talked about dating. They ended up in the cinema room again, watching dumb rom coms.

“Mind if I join you?” said a voice from the doors. They turned to see Loki, lazily leaning against the frame with his hands in his pockets.

“Come on in,” Eleri grinned, winking at Bucky cheekily. “I’ll go get more snacks, you can take my seat.”

Bucky glared at her, but before he could protest, she was gone, shoving Loki next to him.

“Sargeant Barnes,” Loki greeted him with a polite nod, pointing at the seat.

“Loki,” he replied and gestured for him to freely take the seat. Instead of sitting, however, Loki continued inspecting his face. Bucky wanted to ask him what he was looking at, but before he could, Loki spoke: “You look… happier, Sargeant.”

“Oh, I, uh…” Bucky stuttered. “Thank you?”

“The flowers suit you,” Loki smiled ever so slightly.

Oh God, oh shit, oh fuck, Bucky thought, feeling as if he was about to spontaneously combust. Oh for the love of Jesus, he really is flirting. Oh merciful Lord, what do I do?

Loki finally sat down, glueing his eyes to the screen. Bucky really hoped he couldn't hear his heart pounding in his chest and his stupid fast breathing. He couldn't help but glance at the man next to him every once in a while, suddenly feeling stupid about the flashy colours. He reached up and tried to take the flower crown off.

"What are you doing?" Loki frowned.

"It's, um, it's falling into my eyes," Bucky said.

"That's no reason to take it off, here," Loki shook his head and turned his whole body to face him, raising his hands up to Bucky's face. "May I?"

"Uh, sure," Bucky replied barely audibly and allowed the god to fix his hair. Damn you, Eleri, why did you have to put that on me, he thought.

"Better?" Loki asked.

"Uh-huh, yeah," Bucky nodded absent-mindedly.

"Would be a shame if you took it off, it makes you look like a faery," Loki said.

"Thanks, I... it was Eleri's idea," Bucky mumbled.

"I shall thank her for it then," Loki winked and returned to watching the film as if nothing had happened. Oh for heaven's sake.

Bucky sat silently, trying to think of a response, but his brain seemed to have stopped functioning completely. "You, um, you look great too. Green is really... your colour." Jesus fucking Christ, Barnes.

"Thank you, Sargeant," Loki said. "It is, after all, my favourite."

"That's a... great choice," Bucky said, immediately feeling the urge to kick his own butt. Just shut up already.

Loki chuckled. Bucky noticed him licking his lips and his throat tightened.

"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!" Eleri shouted as she re-entered the room with a bowl of popcorn. "JUST FUCKING SNOG ALREADY!"

#fanfiction #fanfic #writing #writeblr #my writing #one shot #bucky barnes #loki #loki odinson #loki friggason #original female character #oc #loki/bucky #winterfrost

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thepandemicinterviews · 5 years ago

Text

Mikki, July 11 2020, Melbourne

During the course of my interview with Mikki, I realised eight minutes too late that half of what had been said so far had not recorded. This lost section illustrates for me two things: 1) the fallibility of technology, and 2) the irrecoverable nature of speech. Thinking about the former, I consider phone calls that cut in and out, one friend lagging behind the others. For a short while, whenever Mikki and I called, only one person could be heard at a time, so I had to make sure not to “mm” in response or I’d risk cutting her off. This meant monologuing and not interrupting, something akin to the interview form.

I’ve always been attracted to the interview. I think teenage magazines, which I read religiously (often standing in the supermarket aisle with the magazines and stationery and greeting cards), were the first indicator of this love. A decade later, recently, I reflected on the unique beauty of speech in written form in Rachel Cusk’s “Outline” trilogy, which are written almost entirely through her characters’ monologue-style speech. I then read her interview in the Paris Review, in which she says the following:

I suppose I recognised that certain worlds could be almost prepared for me by other people, that other people had abilities to perceive their experiences in ways that I found really useful. That sounds a bit like I got other people to do the work for me, but I just thought, Actually you can just use that particular narrative gift for narrative form in speech. […] I think what I was looking for in writing these books was almost a sound frequency. I think I’m very aware when these passages of life occur—when people are able to give voice to themselves. One of the things that is said about these books is, People don’t talk like that. But I think they probably do. Maybe not all the time, but I think they do. The people that I tend to have speaking in my books have a momentary emergence, like someone getting out of the sea and standing on a rock for a minute and sort of looking around, and for whatever reason they can see where they are.

Like Cusk, I wish to glean from others’ experiences, to pay attention to them, and in doing so, give rise to that “momentary emergence.” Interviews allow speech to be consecrated. One can give voice to oneself, then see spoken words turned into black text. The transcriber imagines commas and full stops, moulding the chaos of speech into tidy sentences. The speech is exalted.

Perhaps what makes an interview so daunting, and so singular in its form, is its promise of structured spontaneity. More structured than a conversation, less structured than a piece of writing. Inside it, operating within a space of pure question and response, subjective experience can resound and stand alone.

I wanted to begin this project with Mikki because she is, in every way, brilliant, but also because she has had to experience Covid-19 after moving to Melbourne in February, away from family and friends. Basically, very alone (alone being almost synonymous with the experience of the virus). Now, as cases in Melbourne continue to rise again, she’s moved into a new house, and has entered week one of their six-week lockdown. We discuss existential versus tangible stresses, our displaced visual landscapes, and the limitations of empathy within collective – and yet, so individual – suffering.

C: Mikki, you found out that you tested negative for Covid today. How did you feel when you saw that text?

M: I was really sleepy because it came through before six in the morning and so I felt slightly relieved but also just felt very silly for having worried so much. But also felt very justified for having worried. Then just thought about all the possible timelines and the things that could have happened. So it was overwhelming but in a nice way.

C: When you say the possible timelines, what would have happened if you had tested positive?

M: It would have changed the way this month plays out. So I was working out how it would change my housemates’ plans for moving today, and then how it would then affect all the things that need to happen in the next few weeks. It would mean that I would need to isolate here, so I would need to do my assignment here and wouldn’t be able to leave to my new place, and just change the whole future of July 2020 for me personally.

C: I felt that way when it was March and I felt like every decision I made was contingent on every other thing that happened which was often not in my control. Do you feel like this week has been the most intense week during this period in terms of personal stresses?

M: I think so. It’s been the most actively intense week I guess. Like I felt stressed about tangible real things that maybe didn’t necessarily require the level of stress I was experiencing but still were very real and very scary in practical ways. Whereas, the stress and intensity I felt in March and April was much more existential and about my emotions, I guess, for different reasons. Whereas this felt so tied to real, terrifyingly tangible stresses.

C: When you say that it felt existential back in March, can you elaborate on that?

M: I’m never a hundred percent sure if I’m using the word properly [laughs]. But I think I just felt very aware of literally living and existing and how I was experiencing being alive and all the ways that I could feel throughout a day, or a week, or a month. I was just so aware of every tiny experience and so obviously questioned every aspect of my experiences, I guess. Partly because I had all this time to do that and was so intensely alone that I was forced to do that. This time felt really different to that because things don’t feel as abstract.

C: And with all that time alone, other than thinking, how did you pass that time?

M: I watched so many music videos. I discovered that I can just lie down and watch music videos with my headphones on and feel so much. What else did I do… I called people a lot and I went on walks and for brief periods I’d read and watch movies and feel really good about that. Obviously write my essays, but really slowly. And started drinking tea so, so frequently throughout each day. And I guess just made a lot of plans, just solidified ideas – I guess that kind of comes under thinking. But just, I guess, restructured how I think. It felt like I could just intensely feel an emotion and embrace that feeling and work out which other senses I could use to further feel that feeling and ride it out and just experience it fully. And that was like an activity, and a thing that I could be doing in a way that it never has been before.

C: It sounds very therapeutic. A mindfulness guru we have in our midst. Daphne’s volunteering for this mindfulness group at the moment where they just slowly eat raisins. I guess just having the lack of external influence to allow you this space to drink tea and watch your music videos. Do you think that’s something you’ll hold with you when you do get busier – that experience?

M: Yeah, absolutely. I feel like the only other time I’d understood that was the one week at the end of January when I smoked weed each night and just enjoyed feeling really good in all these ways. But that was so short-lived and so brief, and I feel like I’ve extended that now, but without needing any kind of substance, just fully enjoying being comfortable…

C: So this new lockdown – six weeks – having that set timeframe. How do you feel about that and is there anything you hope to achieve in the second lockdown?

M: Yeah, it definitely is quite a set time. I was talking about that just earlier today, about how that’s different psychologically to being told that something’s happening indefinitely and that would change how you think about it. I am kind of seeing it as a second chance in a way, like Lockdown: Take 2 [laughs]. Like a time to do all the things that you hoped to do the first time round, but obviously were never going to accomplish. This feels like the chance to do that. So part of me does want to end up becoming a runner by the end of it, or someone who does yoga all the time. But I also just hope that I’m someone who’s a bit more solidly in the real world by the end of it. And feel a bit more able to engage with the external world more comfortably and feel like a real person who exists in a tangible world that’s external to me and my own mind. Because I think at the start of it, so the next few weeks, I definitely will keep being very gentle with myself and move with whatever mood or feeling needs to happen and just try to ride out the next few weeks, I guess. And still try to achieve the things I have to do but without any real world pressures because it doesn’t feel like I’m back in the real world yet. I think I do hope by the end of the six weeks I am a bit more solidly in the world and able to interact with people without feeling like it’s all a bit imaginary. And be ready to be doing uni subjects a bit more seriously, and start looking for a job, and be a bit more down-to-earth, be solidly on the ground kind of vibe.

C: Do you feel like it gives you a bit more time to realise what you want before feeling fully settled? Do you feel like it’s kind of a good thing for where you’re at to have this extra time?

M: Yeah, I think it is. It feels a bit sad to have started to have these nice things, like seeing people occasionally and being able to relax a bit, not feeling that stress. It was nice just feeling like life was picking up in that way. But I think for me, still kind of feeling like I am quite alone, and I do want to take all this learning and growth, becoming different and new in all these ways out of this time I have, where I am forced to be alone. In that sense I think it does feel like a nice bit of extra room to do that comfortably.

C: You mentioned moodboards before, when I think it wasn’t recording. What images come to mind when you think of this year? Not January, of course, because that was a very different time.

M: This is super obvious and has been the case for nearly everyone I love, but the sky at dusk has been a really clear daily chance to really feel something. Something that changes all the time. I think just striking visuals in general have been something I’ve been able to appreciate more. It’s as though colours and images or videos of people in really good or interesting outfits carry so much more weight and power in a way. I feel like I can appreciate them so much more. So those are some of the images that I’ve been much more struck by than usual, I guess. I feel like the things I look at in real life are so limited, you know, like I just look out the same few windows, and walk the same couple of parks, and go to the same shops. But then at the same time, the things I’m looking at online are so much more varied and diverse and I’m giving them so much more attention and time that it feels like they’re all more powerful. Oh, and also just my big blue jumper has become such a staple and all my bed sheets and pillows are different shades of blue, but the jumper just typifies that soft, comfy, homey – soft colours, but also warm soft cosy overall sensation. I think it represents that all in itself.

C: It does. So you’ve learnt a lot about yourself of course, but do you feel like you’ve learnt a lot about other people, people in general, specific people?

M: Hmm. I don’t know if I’ve really learnt about other people. I think I’ve seen more of certain parts of different people I know, because our relationships are obviously really different, and it brings out new dynamics and certain aspects of everyone’s personalities are amplified in different ways.

C: In terms of different opinions towards the whole situation or?

M: In terms of how people think and feel. I guess because I’m in a new place, it’s kind of been a really specific way of highlighting how different people think and act. There’s just been such clear divides between people who are partying recently and out in bars and stuff, and people who are following the rules because they’re the laws but aren’t necessarily super invested in the reality of the health crisis and your responsibilities in your communities and so on. And then the people who are most disadvantaged by this and are just in such a completely different world to the people who are out dancing, happy they can do that. So it’s kind of been really stark seeing those differences play out, and mainly through my phone or laptop as well, like not in person. I guess also seeing people respond to stuff, like with the public housing hard lockdown, seeing people really quickly working out ways to donate stuff and help with various things. I think that kind of brought out people’s opinions especially starkly. In so many ways. Obviously, seeing the government’s responses has also been super informative, and feels like it all lines up with the last essay I did, which was all about incarceration in Victoria and how indigenous women are disproportionately affected. And seeing that conflict between a fairly progressive government in a lot of ways, but then a really harsh, tough crime, law-and-order focused, criminal justice agenda. And that’s come out really clearly again recently.

C: Like you can’t be both.

M: Yeah, well it just kind of feels really extreme how it somehow goes so hand-in-hand in this state.

C: I think at the beginning of everything, just speaking on a very vague global level, I thought everyone is kind of going through the same thing worldwide. You never get to experience that level of – like I could talk to anyone in the world and say, “How’s it affecting you?”, “Same.” But then I think as the months progressed and different countries went different directions. And on a local level, different types of people had different experiences and it reinforced existing hierarchies.

M: Totally. It was such a shift from we’re all in this together to realising that just couldn’t be further from the truth, basically. And how false it was.

C: Yeah, and all the blaming of people and outrage. I think in particular, in Australia and New Zealand, it’s been a big part of the conversation around outbreaks. Blaming people for not being perfect and not having the empathy to understand why someone might be more likely to pass it on due to living conditions or just personal situations.

M: It’s been so extreme seeing that play out. Especially with the recent Victorian spike, I feel like the discourse has become so much more about blaming people who are doing the wrong thing. Even where government policy failures are also a huge part of that story as well. Yeah, it’s so interesting in terms of empathy, actually. It’s kind of helped people develop empathy in some ways, in terms of unemployment for some people and what that’s like, or what poverty is like, or social isolation or being lonely or being anxious or not having access to the same food or resources. But then also seeing how limited that empathy is in other ways. That’s such a strange conflict I think.

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neuxue · 6 years ago

Text

Wheel of Time liveblogging: The Gathering Storm ch 47

The Rand al’Thor deescalation strategy: contemplate genocide, attempt patricide, then run away.

Chapter 47: The One He Lost

The left, wasn’t it?

Sorry, one day I’ll stop with those…

Rand’s feeling a bit off after almost annihilating several armies and a city. Can’t imagine why…

No, it was something else that had unsettled him, something he couldn’t quite define.

How close you came to mass murder and also possibly the unravelling of existence itself? No?

Stop distracting me with the geology of the Stone of Tear. I’m trying to pay attention to the pain, here, and instead you throw literal rocks at me? Rude.

Oh, I see: the rocks are symbolism.

He had the form of a human. Indeed, he had the mannerisms and history of one.

We’re just not wasting any time here, are we? That’s…quite a thought. It’s one thing when I’m the one thinking it, but it’s another thing entirely when Rand himself is.

But he was a thing that no human—not even he himself—could understand. A figure of legend, a creation of the One Power, as unnatural as a ter’angreal or a fragment of cuendillar.

Not even he himself. Oh, Rand. He’s just so lost, but lost isn’t something he’s afforded the option to be, so he has to push even that aside somehow and keep going.

But also. On the one hand (ha), we have the concept of the Dragon is one with the land, and the land is one with the Dragon. The Dragon as a part of—an embodiment of, even—the world, and the land, and inextricably linked with it and with history and with the balance of Light and Shadow and existence itself. Something utterly natural, something so bound up in nature and the natural as to be one with it. And so Rand’s thoughts here, that he is a ‘creation’, that he is ‘unnatural’ become dissonant against that note we’ve hit again and again throughout the series. And it shows, then, how far he has strayed from that role, even while staying on his path, that he sees himself as, in effect, the opposite of what he truly is.

He has detached himself from humanity and from the world and from himself, in order to become what he thinks he must be—but the irony is that in doing so he is distancing himself ever further from that very thing.

(Did that make sense to anyone but me? Also wow Lia how many commas does a sentence need? Answer: AT LEAST FIVE MORE).

Never mind his heart of a man long dead, his shoulders created to bear the weight of prophecy, his soul crushed by the needs, wants, and hopes of a million people.

I’m not even ONE PAGE into this chapter and already it is coming for me with knives. Never mind his heart of a man long dead just…what am I supposed to do with that? The layered meaning there—the metaphorical killing of his compassion and acceptance of his death atop the more literal invocation of Lews Therin.

And the next part reminds me rather strongly of one of my favourite lines of poetry: which brings us back to the hero’s sholders, and the gentleness that comes not from the absence of violence but despite the abundance of it (Richard Siken, Snow and Dirty Rain). So that’s…fine.

Oh, Rand.

Because to him it is nothing but a weight, a pressure, a suffocating inevitability that is beyond endurance. That is all that is left to him, all he sees ahead, and no space for choice or life or self.

Two hands. One to destroy, the other to save. Which had he lost?

Oh.

I made the joke but I didn’t expect him to do…that. Wow. Okay. Ouch.

Salvation and destruction, one hand shelters, one hand slays, and he stands between, on the balance, but the balance itself is lost and he is falling and he doesn’t even know where and I know this is probably due in part to Sanderson’s tendency to have his characters philosophise and self-examine on-page but finally Rand himself is thinking all the things I’ve thought about him and it hurts in all the best ways.

He had accepted what he needed to be. Why was he so bothered by it, then?

This is more of a crack in his armour than we’ve seen in a while. Maybe it’s because he’s alone, with no immediate task or goal; when he has something to do, he can focus on it and be utterly cold and ruthless and directed, but when he has a moment to pause, all those things he’s suppressing start creeping up on him again.

I’ll spare you five minutes of pacing, Rand: it’s because you haven’t accepted it. You’ve tried to resign yourself to it, and that’s…not at all the same thing, for all that it seems to be. You’ve resigned yourself to what you’ve convinced yourself you need to be, rather than accepting and choosing what to be.

A voice deep down—one not in his head, but in his heart—had begun to disagree with what he did. It was not loud or violent like Lews Therin’s; it just whispered, like a forgotten itch. Something is wrong. Something is wrong…

This strikes the precise, perfect balance between eerie and just straight-up heartbreaking. He has detached himself so far, and pushed away so much of himself, that all that is left of him, of the shepherd Rand al’Thor, is watching at a distance, quiet and yet still determined, wounded and bleeding and yet somehow still hoping, whispering that this is wrong and yet unable to break through those walls.

He is still at war with himself, only now he’s losing. And looking at it from that angle, this whole series is a fascinating…duel, of sorts, with the balance shifting slowly, almost imperceptibly, from Rand as he was to Rand as he has become. From optimism to despair, from choice to resignation, from determination and will to live to fatigue and a wish to die. A shift in which is the winning side, in this war of one man against himself. And it happens so gradually that it’s hard to put a finger on where it shifts—obviously there are several major points where it becomes clear, but this has been in progress from the very beginning.

Put the nuke down, Rand. You’ve destroyed the Stone enough already. Also you’re still inside it.

He’s decided that it’s seeing Hurin that’s thrown him off, not almost repeating Natrin’s Barrow except against allies and friends. I guess…that’s…progress?

Hurin was a relic from an earlier life. Days when Mat had still mocked Rand’s coats, days when Rand had hoped that he’d marry Egwene and somehow return to the Two Rivers.

Days when he truly was a shepherd named Rand al’Thor.

It’s as though he has sacrificed his recent past for his more distant one. The more of Lews Therin he remembers (or remembered; it’s fairly complete now it seems), the further away that shepherd seems, the longer ago those recent memories feel, the more distant they are from who he is now.

It’s as though in his fear of becoming Lews Therin Telamon and facing that fate, he has sacrificed the very things that would allow him to avoid it. And now, even, the desire to do so.

He’d have wondered if anything could grow more complicated than thinking his friends hated him.

Now it hardly matters, because no one can hate him more than he hates himself.

The colours shifted in his vision. Perrin walking through a dark camp, that stone sword looming in the air above him.

The way this is phrased makes it feel very Sword of Damocles, which maybe is not deliberate as that would apply far more to Rand, if anyone, than to Perrin, I would think. Though I guess you could spin it to fit Perrin as well. Anyway, deliberate allusion or not, it’s a great image.

Mat is in Caemlyn, so it would seem we’ve moved ahead of several characters’ timelines at this point. I always find that to be weird, when used to foreshadow something that is in this timeline’s present but another character’s future, but okay, sure.

Do we run from the past, then? Lews Therin asked softly. Yes. That is well. Better to run than to face it.

It’s so bitterly ironic that we’re hearing this in Lews Therin’s voice, because that is precisely the past Rand has been running from this entire time. And that is what has brought him to this point, where he is closer than ever to repeating it.

It’s beautiful in how cruelly perfect it is.

Rand’s time with Hurin had ended at Falme. Those days were indistinct in his mind. The changes that had come upon him then—realising that he had to kill, that he could never return to the life he had loved—were things he could not dwell on. He’d headed out toward Tear, almost delirious, separated from his friends, seeing Ishamael in his dreams.

That last one was happening again.

They’re all happening again. That entire list, in variation: a visit to Falme, with his state of mind in turmoil, a change upon him as he pushes away all feeling and seeks to become the void. Realising that he can and must kill women, that he must cross that line and leave behind who he was. Believing that he can never return to life at all, and that he must die. Refusing to dwell on it, and pushing all feeling away instead. Coming to Tear, where he stands now, almost delirious and chasing his own thoughts, separated from his friends, seeing Moridin in his dreams.

He strode down the hallway and into a massive chamber with rows of pillars, stout and broad, wider than a man could wrap his arms around.

I hope he knows this from trying, mostly because I need that mental image of Rand al’Thor the Dragon Reborn trying on a whim to hug a pillar and failing. (If any artists out there are looking for inspiration for something random to draw: this).

Rand’s thinking about Callandor now and I’m with him on that; I can’t bring myself to believe we’re done with that sword-that-is-not-a-sword. There’s something more there, something I haven’t worked out yet but probably should have. It seems likely to play a role in the end, as it did in the beginning, but beyond the fact that it requires a circle in order to be wielded safely—which means it requires cooperation and balance—I don’t know what that might be.

Taking the Sword That Cannot Be Touched was one of the first major prophecies that he had fulfilled. But was his taking of Callandor a meaningless sign, or was it a step? Everyone knew the prophecy, but few asked the question that should have been inevitable. Why? Why did Rand have to take up the sword? Was it to be used in the Last Battle?

I’d put money on it.

But this is precisely what I wonder, and have wondered. What is it about Callandor? Because Rand’s right: the Prophecy feels rather arbitrary if it’s just a ‘pull this sword out of the stone and then move on to the next thing’. Sure, Prophecy is Prophecy and can do whatever the fuck it wants, I suppose, but that would be so unsatisfying. And so Callandor is in somewhat the same category as, say, Mat’s ashandarei: things that have shown up to fill one purpose but definitely feel like they have more of a role to play. They’re loose ends at the moment, and not the sort that seem set up to remain so.

Is it just that Callandor requires men and women working together—that which was absent the last time an attempt was made on the Dark One’s prison? Or is there something else?

Why did the prophecies not speak of the Choedan Kal?

Another good question, and I lean towards it being because the Choedan Kal, like nuclear weapons, feel like they’re in that other category of Things That Never Should Have Been Made. If anything in this chapter is unnatural, that’s it.

Yet he used the Choedan Kal to perform arguably his greatest work thus far. So maybe I’m wrong.

The access key gave Rand power well beyond what Callandor could provide, and that power came with no strings.

And maybe that’s the problem. It’s too much power for any one person to wield. He cleansed the taint with Nynaeve, by using the male and female Choedan Kal together. Now, not even that is an option. And so, in contrast to Callandor, the sa’angreal that requires cooperation and balance, the Choedan Kal is unbalanced, unfettered power. It’s very like to what Rand is himself at this point, and what his mindset is. And it’s terrifying.

It’s the illusion of utter freedom, of ‘no strings’, against the reality of it. Rand sees all constraints now as being a kind of box, but in reality this illusory freedom he has found by freeing himself from all emotion or remnant of humanity is not true freedom at all, because he has also removed any sense of his own agency. He is acting out of necessity, not choice. And by putting himself into a state of mind where he can permit himself to do anything, he effectively…limits himself to atrocity. He has removed the choice of mercy, of restraint, of another way, and chained himself to the most direct route, even if it leads to catastrophe.

The prophecies were—in a way—the grandest and most stifling box of them all. He was trapped inside of them. Eventually, they would suffocate him.

So we come once again to this issue of perception. Who can possibly blame him for feeling that way? And yet, especially with how he and Egwene are juxtaposed, it feels more and more like the issue is in that very perception, in the view of himself as having no choice and no agency, of being trapped by prophecy rather than choosing it. He almost realised that, back in…oh…TFoH or so. But then things got worse.

And Moiraine, she who balanced that strange mix of surrendering to and yet choosing fate, of claiming agency even when she believed everything was as the Wheel wove, vanished. I don’t think those two things are unrelated. Rand lost that perspective when he lost Moiraine and, shortly after, Egwene. And so he and Eegwene have almost ended up on opposite sides of the prophecy/agency/acceptance/resignation coin, where Moiraine managed to combine both.

They called my plan brash, but these weapons they created, they were too dangerous. Too frightening. No man should hold such Power…

I absolutely one hundred percent agree with you there, Lews Therin. (Do I still want to see a character holding such power? Hell yes).

He worked so hard to keep from being tied with strings, but at the end of the day, the prophecies would see that he did what he was supposed to.

This. This right here. He cedes to prophecy the necessities, while Egwene went through the rituals by choice, accepting the trappings of fate and tradition in order to claim it as her own. He sees the crowns and coats and titles as little more than decoration that make it easier for people to accept him. Egwene sees the stole and staff in a similar light, but she does not dismiss them as useless ornamentation, or a masking of the truth. She doesn’t see it as a way to make the unnatural seem human, but rather as a part of the role she has claimed. A symbol, yes. Unnecessary to the execution of her duty, yes. But not a disguise, nor a softening of edges and oddities. And so she chooses to claim that for herself, to wear those symbols so that she can even better fulfill the role they represent, while Rand no longer really…cares.

Because this is not his choice. He’s still trying to avoid those strings, rather than claiming them as his own. He’s letting himself be dragged by prophecy, rather than acknowledging it and taking those steps when needed but in service of his own choice to see this through.

It’s a subtle difference, but it’s all the difference in the world, and I’m still not over how well it’s played.

Is Cadsuane really your biggest problem right now, Rand?

The Last Battle loomed, and he spent what little time he had riding to meetings with people who insulted him.

Again, I can’t help but compare this to Egwene, who also is facing the imminent fact of the Last Battle and yet still makes time for the ceremony of being raised (again) to the Amyrlin Seat, and recognises its importance and the importance of both berating and pardoning the Tower Aes Sedai and rebels alike, setting in place those formalities so that healing can begin, and dealing with people who have insulted and beaten her. She doesn’t see those things as a waste of time, because they’re essential. It’s not just about this one end goal, but about the steps along the way, because without those the end becomes meaningless.

(In real life I probably tend more towards Rand’s view of this sort of thing, but this is Epic Fantasy and there is a Point being made here and patience, as we are frequently reminded, is often a worthwhile virtue).

Something about this particular hallway seemed familiar.

Probably from the battle in the Stone, but I can’t help but think of the Prologue. A hallway of twisted stone and despair…

Was there, perhaps, a way to stop the Seanchan for good? He looked down at the access key.

Um.

(This is the thing with great, unfettered power: once you use it once, what’s to stop you using it as the solution to every problem? Why even bother with diplomacy, or lesser military solutions, when you can escalate straight to the most effective one? When there is nothing left to hold you back, why waste time? When you don’t care anymore about your own life and existence, or even of what may become of the world once this is over, why not use your nuclear arsenal to end every war? Why even bother fighting the wars in the first place?)

That [battle against the Seanchan] had been his first major failure as a commander.

Except you’ve learned the wrong lesson from it, Rand. The failure wasn’t in not annihilating the Seanchan. It was in not knowing when to stop. It was in not pulling back once you had succeeded in your original goal. It was in continuing even when saidin was strange and you were tired and angry and holding too much power, and killing your own people as a result, turning a victory into an ugly stalemate that felt like defeat.

Burning Graendal and Natrin’s Barrow away had required only a fraction of what Rand could summon.

If he turned that against the Seanchan, then he could go to the last battle with confidence

Yes, because what your conscience—not to mention your status as hero—really needs right now is genocide.

It would not take long.

That’s…chilling.

And it’s Lews Therin’s voice that is the voice of reason now, calling him back from that to the memory of trying to bring a dead child back to life in this corridor. A smaller failure. A failure to bring life, rather than to bring death. Painful and disturbing but with the intent to do something good. To save, or create, rather than destroy (when all this thoughts at the moment run in the opposite direction). The one he lost.

Moiraine had stopped him. Bringing life to the dead was beyond him, she’d said.

How I wish she was still here, Rand thought. He had often been frustrated with her, but she—more than anyone else—had seemed to grasp just what it was he was expected to do. She’d made him more willing to do it, even when he’d been angry with her.

YES. She understood what his fate meant, understood what it meant that he belongs to the Pattern now, and to history. And she was never quite sympathetic about it, but in a way her almost ruthless acceptance was what he needed. She recognised what he was and what it truly meant, yet she also understood the importance of surrendering to that fate in order to control it. She walked that strange balance more perfectly than most, and so served as something of a guide to Rand. To be more than a pawn in the hands of prophecy, but not to rebel against it. To accept, and suppress useless wishing, but not to lose all sense of agency. To be ruthless without losing compassion.

I also love that it’s only now that he understands her, now that she is—to his knowledge—dead. She was the one no one understood, when she was around. They hated or feared or distrusted her at the best of times…and now Rand himself is in that role, hated and feared and misunderstood, and from there he is able to see and understand and appreciate all that she was, and all she did. And to appreciate that she understood him.

But she’s not there now, and he is alone.

And apparently wants to go fight—or rather, annihilate—the Seanchan right now, because…no time like the present? I guess? Again, when there are no limits, the question becomes a simple why not?

“The darkness won’t matter; I shall create light enough.”

Um.

Yeah that’s uh…terrifying. No symbolism to see there, none at all... The Shadow doesn’t matter if he can just throw power into a harsh and burning Light. Except that’s far from balance, and it’s entirely wrong.

An unfamiliar figure stood with his back to Rand, looking out the open balcony doors.

Moridin?

OH.

NO. NO THAT’S NOT MORIDIN.

It was Tam. His father.

IT’S TAM.

HOLY.

SHIT.

IT’S TAM.

TAM IS IN HIS ROOM.

TAM AL’THOR.

IS HERE.

For the first time in TWELVE BOOKS. I have WAITED for this moment for YEARS and now it’s come at the worst possible time except that also means it’s the best possible time because this is going to hurt and I am here for it.

If anyone could crack that armour of ice and cuendillar Rand has tried to surround himself with…

Seeing Hurin unsettled him because it was an abrupt confrontation with a past that has come to seem like another lifetime. But that was Hurin, someone he liked and befriended and travelled with for a time. This is Tam, and so it’s the same thing but more, by orders of magnitude. It’s his past catching up to him and staring him in the face and daring him to try to turn away, holding that harsh icy emotionlessness of his against the living memory of someone who loves him him like a hand held to a flame.

But comfort clashed with who Rand had become. His worlds met—the person he had been, the person he had become—like a jet of water on a white-hot stone. One shattering, the other turning to steam.

That’s exactly it; that’s so exactly it that it’s eerily close to my own thoughts.

But this is what Rand needs right now, this shocking confrontation against which his past and present cannot both stand. It may not be enough to truly bring him back, but it might just crack those barriers enough to buy him a moment to confront himself, to force him to face the world and what he has become with his skin and soul and self bared, unshielded by that ice. It will hurt; it’s why he has pushed all these things aside and turned away from his past and his friends and family and feelings of any kind, but it is, I think, an necessary pain. He needs to feel again, and perhaps this will be enough to force him to, if only for those few moments where his selves are in conflict and his shields thus stressed between them until he is exposed.

Everything just feels better with Tam here. He is, as Rand himself has thought of him, an anchor, a touchstone, a solid connection to simple reality. And that’s something Rand has…struggled with, lately.

Which actually you can extend to an interesting line of symbolism and connection (bear with me here; this might get weird): he feels unnatural, detached, and thus continues to detach himself from the world, and has he does so he comes closer and closer to destroying it (through the True Power, or through balefire, or through simply throwing himself into the Last Battle uncaring of the meaning or form of his victory). The Dragon is one with the Land, and so as the Dragon becomes less and less anchored to reality, and less caring about what becomes of it, the more reality itself teeters on the brink of existence or annihilation.

The bubbles of evil may well be the Dark One’s influence and essence, but I think Rand has something to do with this as well—the more detached he becomes, the less he cares about the very world he is fighting to save, the more easily it frays at the edges. The Dragon is one with the Land and so as the Dragon becomes less real, less alive, the land—the Pattern, the world—loses that solidity and reality and substance as well.

As the Aiel might say, it’s as if the very world is his dream, and as he removes himself from it the dream warps and begins to fade…

But Tam is here and he is solid and real and steadfast and so we can draw back from that particular spiral into the void. For now.

Tam stood, hesitant, in the balcony doorway, lit by two flickering lamps on stands in the room. Rand understood Tam’s hesitation. They were not blood father and son.

Somehow I really don’t think that’s why Tam is hesitant. But of course Rand seizes on the reason that has nothing to do with simple emotional reaction to seeing the son you raised and loved and still love in pain and hardened by fate and lost and deadly and broken. Nothing to do with being a parent unable or unsure of how to protect your child who now belongs to the Pattern and to history and not to you, never really to you.

“Rand.” Tam’s voice was awkward.

“Please,” Rand said through his shock. “Please sit.”

They love each other and yet here they stand, uncertain and conversing like strangers and it hurts and I don’t even like hugs but all I want for both of them right now is for Tam to give Rand a hug and lie to him that it will all be okay. Just for a moment.

Light, Rand thought, feeling a sudden urge to enfold Tam in a hug.

The fact that Rand is once again echoing my own thoughts on this point makes it hurt even more. Give him that hug, Rand. It’s not weakness to need that reassurance and stability and reminder that you are human and people care about you. It’s not weakness to reach out. But he is the Dragon Reborn and he cannot acknowledge his own humanity, much less a need for a hug from a parent.

Familiarity and memories flooded back into his mind.

I’m also not much of one for nostalgia, but again, this is what Rand so desperately needs right now. He has been so long inundated by Lews Therin’s memories (sorrows and his own suicide) and has so long pushed away his own that he needs this simple reminder of who he is.

“How…” Rand said. “Tam, how did you get here? How did you find me?”

Ah, such a beautifully loaded question. How did you find me, he asks, like a child lost and afraid in the dark, to whom a mother or a father has reached out a hand and said ‘here, I’m here, let’s go home’.

How did you find me, he asks, like someone who has grown so far from himself that he wonders how his own father could find who he once was in who he is now.

Because Rand al’Thor, the Dragon Reborn, is not hard to find. He sends ripples through the world wherever he is, and no longer tries to disguise his movements. All Tam would have to do is ask. But that’s…not the question here, really.

How did you find me, he asks, leaving unspoken the question that small voice left in him might add: when I cannot even find myself.

I’m fine.

Rand can’t even believe this is happening because he has so strongly denied any thought of home or comfort and this whole scene is already exactly what I wanted. Beautiful soft pain.

So many people had changed around Rand—Mat, Perrin, Egwene, Nynaeve—it was a wonder to meet someone from his old life who was the same.

There’s a small irony here in that Tam’s full name is Tamlin (thanks to whoever it was who told me this; it’s still one of my favourite naming things in this series because ARE YOU SERIOUS), and yet he is the one person who doesn’t change. I hope this is deliberate because it’s exellent.

But this is why Tam might just be able to reach Rand, and sort of…jolt him just enough to crack that armour for a few valuable seconds: because he is one person unchanged from Rand’s past. Not just someone Rand loves, but someone who has not changed, and who by his presence alone almost forces Rand back into who he was. It’s as if Tam is an anchor to a reality that has all but dissolved, but now Rand is being tugged back into that reality.

Which brings us back to the Tam Lin story, in a rather wonderfully inverted way.

It’s also a great example of how you can make genuinely effective use of a static character.

Tam, the man who had taught Rand to seek the void.

Oh, that hurts.

Wait, Tam knows who Morgase is? That really happened offscreen? And now Rand is learning that Morgase is alive, and it’s certainly not as huge a shift as learning Moiraine is alive would be, but still, that must be a shock.

“No. Wait. I can get a report from Perrin when I wish it. I will not have our time together spent with you acting the messenger.”

It’s sweet, and it’s almost touching genuine emotion, but instead it goes through this filter of formality, because still Rand cannot allow himself to feel.

With the reference to Tam teaching him the void, I’m also reminded here of Rand running out of the palace in Caemlyn toward Mat and Aviendha, who he had thought dead, tears running down his face and choosing to let the void go because ‘he wanted to feel this’. Now, that is no longer an option.

“Ah, son,” [Tam] said, shaking his head, broad hardworking hands clasped before him, “they’ve really done it. They’ve gone and made a king out of you.”

It’s said with a slight smile, and seems to be said fondly, but there is such an aching feeling of sadness and loss here, and in this entire scene. It’s lovely and it hurts and I want all of it.

“What happened to the gangly boy, so wide-eyed at Bel Tine? Where’s the uncertain lad I raised all those years?”

“He’s dead,” Rand said immediately.

Tam nodded slowly. “I can see that.”

Oh.

I don’t know which part of this hurts more: the immediacy of Rand’s answer, or the way Tam just…tries so hard to take it in stride, and nods and accepts it as true because he can’t deny it. And how, even then, he doesn’t protest or let it visibly rattle him; he tries to show that acceptance, tries to be almost gentle with it, to agree with Rand and not fight him even on this.

There is so much pain here.

Well, at least now the genealogy is out in the open. Clears the air a bit, I suppose.

“Yes,” Tam said. “I can see how. I…” He gripped his hands together tightly. “I never meant to lie to you, son. Or, well, I guess I shouldn’t call you that, should I?”

You can call me son, Rand thought. You are my father. No matter what some may say. But he couldn’t force the words out.

The Dragon Reborn couldn’t have a father.

HELP ME.

THIS HURTS.

I love the way this scene is written, with the unspoken almost louder and more apparent than the actual dialogue on the page. As if the words that are spoken are just a framework, around which everything else hangs, and you get this exquisite feeling of tension and pain and of both of them desperately reaching for each other but not able to speak the words aloud or make the motions. The blocking and the dialogue feel stilted, and instead you fill in the spaces with the absences and the silences and the thoughts. The motions that are considered but never actually executed, the words that go unsaid, the pauses that speak volumes, the warmth and pain and love that cannot be expressed.

It’s a scene told in absences, where what is not there is more important and more apparent than what is.

And just. The tension here in Tam’s body language, as he keeps his words gentle and mild but also deliberately distant. The way he grips his hands together as if to physically stop himself from reaching out to his son. The way he does not challenge Rand, does not push him, and accepts the silences and absences and formality he receives, because it is all he can offer.

And Rand. Who cannot get those words out past the walls of ice he has encased himself in, who cannot let himself feel, who longs to reach out to his father and yet holds himself back because he can’t let himself be human.

They’re in pain and I’m in pain and we’re all in pain and EVERYTHING IS FINE.

The Dragon Reborn had to be a figure of myth, a creature nearly as large as the Pattern itself.

HE’S THINKING THE EXACT WORDS OF MY OWN THOUGHTS AND I’M NOT OKAY.

What would it do if it were known that he kept his father nearby? If it were known that the Dragon Reborn relied upon the strength of a shepherd.

The quiet voice in his heart was screaming.

*falls to the floor clutching this book and wailing*

THIS IS TOO MUCH.

HELP.

If it were know that the Dragon Reborn relied upon the strength of a shepherd that is beautiful and heartbreaking and all the more so because it is exactly what he must do but he has gone too far and sees that as a weakness, sees his own former self as a weakness. He, who once took a moment, bleeding and afraid, to just…sit, and remember a shepherd named Rand al’Thor. That is his strength, but he has pushed it away and now cannot let himself reach out to his father or his own memory or anything that feels like love, because it’s dangerous to be vulnerable and dangerous to hope and dangerous to let himself need.

That’s just such a gorgeous line and it’s already haunting me.

And then the quite voice in his heart was screaming, to underline this sense not just of wrongness but of pain, of the way he is tearing himself apart…but on the surface there still is nothing but formality and the image of a king.

This is. It’s just. It’s so good.

It’s so good and it hurts and he’s screaming but can’t let himself listen and he’s at war with himself and Tam is having to sit there and watch and I am sure Tam sees this, sees at least some of what is happening but can’t let himself say anything, can’t reach out because this isn’t something he can fix except by being there for when it all falls apart and letting Rand know that he is loved, in whatever way Rand will accept.

“You did well, Tam,” Rand found himself saying.

HOW DARE YOU.

Rand picked up the access key—it too brought him comfort—then stood. Tam hastily joined him, acting more and more like just another retainer or servant.

“You have done a great service, Tam al’Thor” […]

“I appreciate that, my Lord,” Tam said.

It (like every single word of this entire scene) hurts, but it’s also, I think, deliberate on Tam’s part. Because it’s the only way he can interact with Rand. Rand sees it as acting like ‘just another servant’ but in the position he now holds he doesn’t really…permit anything else. Maybe, occasionally, from Nynaeve or Min. But even then just barely.

And I think Tam sees that. Tam is a parent. He sees that Rand is hurting but he also sees that Rand isn’t going to ask for help or comfort, and probably won’t accept it if Tam offers. And so instead he lets Rand set the frame of the entire interaction, and takes Rand’s lead, and works within that, and doesn’t ever push. The important thing is that he doesn’t turn away.

“I’m afraid I lost your sword,” Rand found himself saying. It felt foolish.

And so Rand finds himself opening up, if only a little. Tam is important through his presence alone, and I think he knows that. He really is just trying to be there for Rand. Trying to offer his support and his love however he can. And Rand does respond to that, even if it’s only apparent in contrast to how he has been lately. It’s a small change, but it’s a start.

Also you might tell Tam that you lost his sword in Ishamael; that would provide some helpful context, but okay. Sure. Fine.

Even that, Tam accepts. And answers Rand’s questions about the sword’s origins. He’s still letting Rand take the lead and guide the conversation, rather than trying to push Rand too quickly to topics that might cause him to retreat behind his walls and shut down completely.

And so eventually we get to something almost like Rand opening up.

“My life isn’t my own. I’m a puppet for the Pattern and the prophecies, made to dance for the world before having my strings cut.”

Tam frowned. “That’s not true, son. Er, my Lord.”

Now he pushes back a little, because Rand has come very very close—probably as close as he can allow himself—to asking for help here. To telling his father he’s hurting.

And oh, it hurts.

“And you can’t run?” Tam asked.

“I don’t think the Pattern would let me,” Rand said. “What I do is too important. It would just force me back in line. It has done so a dozen times already.”

“And would you really want to run?” Tam asked.

Rand didn’t reply.

YES.

THIS IS PERFECT.

It’s been one of the central problems for Rand for so long—that he cannot see any space for agency, any choice or any reason to make one. That all he has is despair and desperation and the eventual promise of death. That he feels trapped in this box and cannot see a way to free himself of it.

But Tam asks the perfect question. It’s the framing of it. The issue of perception. The question of, in essence, what are you fighting for?

“Does it matter if you can run, when you know that you’re not going to?”

“I’m going to die at the end of this,” Rand said. “And I have no choice.”

And that’s no small thing to have to deal with. It’s hard to truly fault Rand for the mindset he’s ended up in, because how could he not? He’s barely older than twenty and doesn’t expect to see another year, he’s tired and he’s wounded in every sense of the word, he’s been violated body and mind and made a captive again and again, he can barely trust his own mind and he doesn’t know a moment’s peace, and the entire world looks to him in hatred and fear and desperate need, and he cannot see a way out. Of course he struggles to see any kind of choice, much less let himself believe he chooses this.

Because in a way, choosing it feels like it would make it even worse. How could he choose to go through all of that? And so relinquishing agency is itself almost a form of relief—consigning all that pain to inevitability and letting himself focus only on its end.

“I won’t have talk like that,” Tam said. “Even if you’re the Dragon Reborn, I won’t listen to it. You always have a choice. Maybe you can’t pick where you are forced to go, but you still have a choice.”

“But how?”

Tam laid a hand on Rand’s shoulder. “The choice isn’t always about what you do, son, but why you do it.”

THIS IS EVERYTHING. THIS IS IT. I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR BOOKS FOR SOMEONE TO SAY THIS TO RAND AND FOR RAND TO BELIEVE IT.

THANK YOU TAM AL’THOR.

THIS IS…

This is just. It’s everything. What are you fighting for.

It’s the hardest part of the role he must play: to actively choose it, to embrace it and all the pain it brings…but it’s also the only thing that might make that pain bearable. Because if he chooses it, he has a reason for it. If he chooses it, then he is fighting for something. If he chooses it, he can look to why, and look to the balance, and all that he is saving even as he destroys himself.

It’s the importance of caring, which is something Rand has not lost sight of so much as relinquished entirely. Because to him, it doesn’t matter if he cares or not; what is foretold must happen. But that’s not how it work, and it’s what makes him so frightening right now, and what makes the prospect of his victory ‘as dark as his defeat’. He, the Champion of the Light and the world’s best hope of salvation, has lost sight of the world he’s saving, and why he should save it at all. He’s fighting for victory alone, rather than for life and light and a future and the chance to make something more.

“I don’t know if it’s true that you’ll need to die for this all to play out. But we both know you aren’t going to run from it. Changed though you are, I can see that some things are the same. So I won’t stand any whining on the subject.”

O course it’s Tam who finally says it to Rand and pushes Rand to confront that truth. Tam, Rand’s father, the one person who he might listen to. The one who can talk to him and care about him rather than about the Dragon Reborn and the role he must play, or even about the world and its salvation. There’s no ulterior motive, even if it seems almost certain that bringing Tam here was Cadsuane’s plan. She may be thinking about the salvation of the world—a worthy cause, it must be said—but Tam is talking to Rand here, for no other reason than that he loves him.

“Rand, I think you can survive this.”

I CAN’T HANDLE MUCH MORE OF THIS. IT HURTS A LOT AND I LOVE IT AND IT’S TOO MUCH.

It’s such a simple statement but it’s a comfort and a belief that so few people have offered to Rand lately. Because most of them see him as the Dragon Reborn, and need him to save the world, and there are so, so few who can see past that to the boy who is hurt and afraid and facing his own death and doesn’t know what else to do.

But then there’s Tam, who just…talks to Rand as his son, because that’s who he is. Talks to him like a person, like the boy he was, and chides him for ‘whining’ and then offers him hope and does so with an open hand and a father’s love and nothing else.

“I can’t imagine that the Pattern won’t give you some peace, considering the service you’re doing for us all.”

Tam knows the prophecies and knows the role Rand has to play, but again he doesn’t look at Rand and see the figure out of legend who will save them all because that is his duty and his fate; there are so many who see that and do not see the person, and so would never think of a debt owed or of what Rand is sacrificing. But Tam sees that, because this is his son and he wants him to have that peace, and it’s so important for Rand to have someone see that and acknowledge it without being asked. Someone who can see what this is costing him, and can wish for something for him in return, rather than offering him pity or apathy or yet more demands.

“You may not be able to choose the duties you’re given. But you can choose why you fulfil them. Why do you go to battle, Rand?”

I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS CONVERSATION AND IT HAS NOT DISAPPOINTED ME.

These are the true questions, the points around which the future of the world turns. What are you fighting for.

And how perfect it is that it’s his father asking him.

It’s two things I’ve been waiting for—a reunion between Tam and Rand, and someone to push Rand to that question—combined into one and it’s so, so excellent and I’M COMPLETELY FINE.

This book is hurting me.

“Because I must.”

“That’s not good enough.”

This is the other reason it works so well to have Tam be the one to push him on this: because Tam can. He didn’t push Rand before, because he was letting Rand set the parameters of their conversation, and because he didn’t want to steer the conversation too quickly to something that might make Rand close up completely, but he knows where he can push, and he does so here, and it works because he’s Rand’s father. Parents can, often, do that where almost no one else can. Rand may have become all but unrecognisable as the boy he was when Tam last saw him, but some part of that person is still there, and some part of that relationship is still there, and Tam can still make him feel like a child being scolded. And for all that he is a king and a legend, that’s…kind of what Rand needs. Not to be scolded, per se, but to just be…faced with this almost simple reality, wherein he is just Rand al’Thor, and Tam is just his father, and none of the rest matters.

“To the crows with that woman! I wish she’d come to me sooner.”

Uh oh.

I think Tam’s messed up there. I…don’t think bringing up Cadsaune is going to…help, here.

And Rand picks up on it immediately and oh no this could undo everything, and he was so close; Tam was getting through to him and he had brought it to that absolutely essential question and now with one word it could all unravel…

“I’d stayed away, previously, because I thought the last thing you needed was your father stomping across your field!”

Oh, Tam. The magnitude of sacrifice implied there is huge, but he doesn’t even talk about it, or let it show. How he must have wanted to go to Rand, to see him, to do everything he could to help and protect him. How it must have hurt to hold himself back, because he thought it would be better for Rand that way. To protect and help him by staying away.

Tam continued, but Rand had stopped listening.

NO. YOU WERE SO CLOSE.

Cadsuane. Tam had come because of Cadsaune.

No, Rand. He came because of you, for you. Listen to him. Cadsuane was just the impetus; he wanted to come to you before but couldn’t, but he’s not here to manipulate you. He’s here to help you. He’s here because he loves you.

But it’s too late. He was so close. Just one small mistake…

His emotions seeing Tam were so strong that they had worn away the ice. Too much affection was like too much hatred. Either one made him feel, which was something he could not risk.

But he had. And suddenly, feeling nearly overcame him.

He had started to let himself feel; Tam could chip away at that ice and that is what Rand has so desperately needed, but this is what Tam was so carefully avoiding in the early part of the conversation: pushing Rand too far or saying the wrong thing and causing him to withdraw again behind those walls. And now he’s done exactly that, and the chance of reaching him, the chance of buying a few seconds for something to get through to Rand across those walls, is gone.

Tam’s trying to walk it back but it’s too late now. The moment’s lost and how much else is lost along with it?

It was, possibly, one of the best ideas Cadsuane has had. It came so close to working, and beyond the pragmatic…Rand needed to see Tam. He needed that conversation, that reassurance and the simple and unconditional love and support Tam offers. But the very fact that it was Cadsuane’s idea ruins it, because of everything that has come before. It’s yet another cruel irony.

“She manipulates me!” Rand said softly, meeting Tam’s eyes. “And she manipulates you. Everyone ties their strings to me!”

The rage boiled inside. He tried to shove it back, but it was so difficult. Where was the ice, the quiet? Desperately, Rand sought the void. He tried pouring all of his emotions into the flame of a candle, as Tam had taught him so long ago.

Difficult, because he has been brought closer to actually feeling something than he has been in a long time. Because his father is here, and they’ve just been talking about things that matter, and he’s been almost confronting himself and his very mindset, and it’s so, so hard now to shove all of that back down. Into the box he’s made for it all.

This is the moment. This is the chance, if it is not already lost—the point where that armour is cracked, and where he does just barely begin to feel.

It’s a necessary loss of control, in a way. So long he has fought himself, and put up barriers in his own mind, and denied aspects of who he is and who he was, and pushed those and others away, and closed himself off more and more, and convinced himself nothing matters anymore and he has no choice and he is damned and all that remains is for him to win and then die. So long he has just barely managed to hold all of those walls, and the only way I can see—the only way I’ve been able to see—for that to come to any kind of resolution is through a kind of collapse. Some kind of internal catastrophe that forces him to face who and what he is, and was, and remembers, and must be, rather than holding it all at a distance.

And this feels like that point of catastrophe, where he can no longer exert that desperate control he’s kept a fingernail grip on for so long, where the pressure finally cracks his shields.

I’ve wondered for a long time what could possibly bring him to this point, if none of those around him could succeed, if almost killing Min and then touching the True Power could only drive him deeper into that icy void, if burning a city out of existence couldn’t shake him. But this—being confronted with his father and these questions he has held at bay and his own self, and then having that overlaid by the rage of thinking it’s a trick…it might be enough to push him to that breaking point of sorts.

The question, then, is whether it will be enough. He’s balanced on the edge now, trying to push everything back in this desperate fight against himself as it all threatens to crash in on him…so it’s a question of which way he falls. Towards his walls and the cold frightening clarify of order and apathy, or towards the chaos of emotion and memory and pain that may well be his best chance.

Saidin was waiting there. Without thought, Rand seized it, and in doing so was overwhelmed with those emotions he thought he’d abandoned. The void shattered, but somehow saidin remained, struggling against him. He screamed as the nausea hit him, and he threw his anger against it in defiance.

Oh.

Chaos it is, then.

And I still think this is what has to happen—it feels almost like the mirror of that moment in The Last That Could Be Done, shattering the ice that moment built. But still it’s frightening and violent and uncontrolled and.

“Rand,” Tam said, frowning.

Trying to hold on to Rand as Rand changes before his eyes. The inverted echoes of the Tam Lin story are astonishingly perfect here.

“BE SILENT!” Rand bellowed, throwing Tam to the floor with a flow of Air.

No.

No no no.

He needed something to bring him to this moment; he needs those walls to shatter and that shattering was always going to be violent but.

If the cost is Tam…

No Rand no not the access key no no no

He had lost control. But he didn’t care. They wanted him to feel. He would feel, then! They wanted him to laugh? He would laugh as they burned.

Oh, Rand.

Oh, Lews Therin.

Because that’s what this is, isn’t it? This is where Rand seals his own doom, seals himself to Lews Therin’s fate. Looking at his family, someone who loves him, and feeling nothing but uncontrollable rage, and losing control, and reaching that point of madness where he could laugh as they burned.

When he nearly strangled Min, it felt like a clear parallel to Lews Therin killing Ilyena, and Rand felt it as well…but that was not his own doing. That was Semirhage torturing him with his worst memory.

This, though…

This is Rand. It is Rand out of control and consumed by something that could well be called madness, as everything he has held at bay crashes in on him and he reaches for power and all he can think of is the distrust that has eaten away at everything else…but still, it is just Rand. Not controlled by anyone else, not leashed or collared or caged.

Screaming at them all, he wove threads of Air and Fire. Lews Therin howled in his head, saidin tried to destroy both of them, and the quiet voice inside Rand’s heart vanished.

Oh.

That last bit. That’s almost as devastating and horrifying as ‘death and betrayal. It is HIM.’

That moment where the last part of him that is just Rand is silenced. Where all that is left is the rage and the power and the chaos, saidin and Lews Therin’s memory, brought into this present moment as Rand’s own reality. And so history stands poised to repeat itself; Rand’s worst fears and the reason he built those walls in the first place about to be realised.

Because if he kills Tam, that will be his Ilyena.

A prick of light grew in front of Rand, sprouting from the centre of the access key. The weaves for balefire spun before him, and the access key grew brighter as he drew in more power.

No.

This is it this is the moment. It all comes down to this: does he repeat Lews Therin’s past or does he choose something different, choose his own path, make a different choice this time and thus a different future. Does he condemn himself to Lews Therin’s fate or does he take this life as another chance. What are you fighting for, Rand? Why?

Also.

In the story of Tam Lin, he is changed into shape after shape and Janet must hold on to him throughout it in order to save him, and the last form he takes in most versions of the story is a burning coal.

By that light, Rand saw his father’s face, looking up at him.

Terrified.

What am I doing?

Here, Tam, Tamlin, is trying to hold on to Rand as Rand changes into a king, into the Dragon Reborn, into a figure of legend and prophecy. He tries to hold on to his son and does not let go—doesn’t turn away—even as Rand begins to weave balefire and glows with it.

And that is what may save both of them. That is what may call Rand back to himself—let him return to his true shape.

Even if it’s not intentional (but I do wonder if it is), this might be one of my favourite inverted references in the series thus far. It’s beautiful and heartbreaking and perfect.

He was brought to that state of cold apathy by Semirhage causing him to nearly kill Min, and to reach for the True Power. And now, as he himself almost weaves balefire again, this time to kill his own father, he finally stops to question.

It’s finally too far.

I wondered what might be.

This is absolutely stunning.

This is just. What a scene.

What a way to bring him to that breaking point.

Because what else could have? What could have forced him to this? When nothing can hold him back, when Nynaeve could not and Min could not and he saw no reason to...

But Tam looking at him in terror, and the echo of Lews Therin in his mind as he almost repeats history and realises his own greatest fear…

Rand began to shake, the balefire unravelling before he had time to loose it. He stumbled backward in horror.

Finally, finally, there is a line he truly cannot cross. Something he truly cannot do, something so horrifying to him that it reaches him through that swirling chaos and the remnants of the armour he has built around himself.

Tamlin al’Thor holds him through all the forms he takes and faces down the fire and it gives Rand that shaking, shattering moment that may let him come back to himself.

What am I DOING? Rand thought again.

No more than I’ve done before, Lews Therin whispered.

OH.

WOW.

THAT’S.

THAT’S A LINE.

That might be exactly as devastating as Lews Therin’s words when Rand reached for the True Power.

And it’s such a beautiful parallel to that scene. The beginning of the true lowest point of his arc, the last that could be done, and now…not quite the beginning of a rise, but perhaps an end to that place he was in. The last that could be done in a very different sense—the last thing that might bring him back. A last chance.

It’s a moment of crisis, a moment where everything comes crashing down and no more than I’ve done before. He has stood here before, about to do the unforgivable. In The Last That Could Be Done, he crossed what he thought was the last line.

Now, having travelled through that space beyond all restraint, he comes at last to a line he didn’t know existed, a point that would condemn him to that past fate, a thing he almost does and yet, in the end, cannot let himself do.

No more than I’ve done before.

A line he crossed once already…but the difference here is the choice. This time, he can choose not to. And so this is the turning point: accept Lews Therin’s fate or choose a different path.

Tam continued to stare at him, face shadowed by the night.

That one line is so heartbreaking. Tam refusing to look away. Face in shadow, even as Rand burns with light. But still not abandoning him, not turning aside. Still holding on.

Oh, Light, Rand thought with terror, shock and rage. I am doing it again. I am a monster.

Still holding tenuously to saidin, Rand wove a gateway to Ebou Dar, then ducked through, fleeing from the horror in Tam’s eyes.

I just let go of a breath I didn’t even realise I was holding for that entire final page.

This chapter is. Um.

Wow.

Let me just…sit here for a minute.

This is an absolute perfect bookend to Chapter 22. It’s not the same scene, and yet it hits so many of the same beats, but from…the other side, in a way. That was Rand’s fall, and this, even as it feels like an absolute low point, almost is the beginning of a rise. It’s Rand turning away from that line, holding himself back rather than stepping across and accepting unfettered, cold, terrifying power. It’s Rand being called back to himself after he came so close to losing himself for good.

Last time, he was forced to almost kill Min, right after he had accepted at her urging that maybe he had become too hard, too untrusting. Now, he comes to almost a similar point in conversation with Tam, but from the opposite direction.

And then that moment of crisis—the first which drives him across one line in fear of repeating Lews Therin’s past…and then this, which drives him away from a true final line out of the same fear.

No more than I’ve done before.

But here, in this lifetime, he can choose not to do it again.

That’s the realisation. That’s what he has needed to understand for so long, because for so long he has been caged by that fear even as he thought he had found freedom. He can choose.

Ebou Dar, though? I almost, for a moment, thought it might be Dragonmount. Because this is where he comes full circle, in a way. Where he faces that last choice: to repeat his greatest atrocity and succumb to his greatest fear, or to do something differently this time. He is brought to the point that ended his last life, and instead turns away and refuses to repeat that mistake. And so it is coming full circle, in truly facing Lews Therin’s fate, and yet it’s a divergence. Just as in making that choice last time, Lews Therin then killed himself and in doing so made Dragonmount, where in this lifetime Rand was born. Life and death; one choice and another. And the prophecy says he must stand on his grave and weep—I wondered, when Tuon thought that, what could possibly bring him to that point. But it seems like that, too, would have to be a point of coming full circle and facing his past—as he has, really, just done here.

But perhaps that is still to come. Or perhaps there’s yet another Moment to come first.

Either way, what a chapter.

Anyway, like after The Last That Could Be Done, I think I need to go stare at a wall for a while and just…process…this chapter.

Next (TGS ch 48) Previous (TGS ch 46)

#I kept thinking 'surely /that/ was the most painful part of this chapter'#I kept being wrong #Wheel of Time #neuxue liveblogs WoT #The Gathering Storm

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siobhom · 6 years ago

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Fic: Crumbs

2012

“What are you doing?” Amy asks.

Jake looks up, her gaze is flicking between the pile of underwear on the floor beside him and the pair in his hand that he was just sniffing. Her expression is ninety two percent revolted and eight percent hoping this is somehow case-related and she can taunt him about it.

“I’m trying to find a clean pair.”

Amy walks away in disgust.

Jake shrugs and goes back to sniffing. As far as he’s concerned, he’s trying to find clean underwear to wear, it’s a ‘pursuit of cleanliness’ thing as Amy would say, so she has no right to judge him.

She comes back to him some time later, grinning smugly, “I got you a present.”

Jake rolls his eyes and smiles. She thrusts out two folders to him. “They’re so you can keep your underwear organised.”

He knows she’s mocking him, and so responds with his own hearty grin and says, “Thank you Santiago, this is so thoughtful.”

She rolls her eyes at him.

“You put commas on these labels, who does that? You’re such a dork.”

2013

When Jake finds a mouse in his desk, at first he’s overjoyed, because it’s small and cute, and hey! New pet! Awesome!

And then he finds the mouse running along Santiago’s desk and he freaks out. Luckily she’s not currently here. He scoops it up, and places it back in his drawer. And then rifles through hers looking for disinfectant. He’s somehow sure she’ll know, that her desk was at some point unclean, like a superpower (or because Jake’s rubbish at cleaning, but it’s not like the mouse pooped or anything). He scrubs harder.

And he just knows that the mouse is going to end up on her desk again, it’s inevitable.

Okay so he may be overreacting slightly.

It’s just that as much as he enjoys teasing and needling and pranking Amy, he hates it when she’s genuinely mad at him; it makes his tummy hurt.

And this is definitely going to be one of those ‘properly mad at him’ things. They both have similar issues with their desks, about things being in their place and not moved. This could’ve easily resulted in a series of epic pranks as they tried to out-do each other. But they somehow realised it would probably result in one of them murdering the other. Their desks are their truce-point. She doesn’t wipe the crumbs off of his and he doesn’t let his mess spill over onto hers.

Unfortunately it’s hard to get mice to respect desk boundaries. And it starts creeping to Amy’s desk again. Jake takes it to the walls, so it can make friends with the rats, he says goodbye and wishes it good luck.

It’s back in his desk the next day.

That’s when he realises he’s going to have to clean his desk. Ugh. Stupid Amy and her stupid cleanness.

He thinks he’s doing relatively well. Actually cleaning it even he can see it’s pretty gross. Even as he’s close to done it doesn’t look great. It looks a lot better than it did though and he gives himself props for that.

He’s doing some final scrubbing, he’s about to give up and accept his desk is going to be a mess forever (though it does look much nicer now and he’s proud) when Amy asks,

“What are you doing?”

“There’s a mouse that keeps coming back, so I’m trying to clean. My desk looks so amazing!”

Amy sighs. “This isn’t clean Jake. Well done though, it does look better than usual. Let me help.”

“I don’t need help.”

Amy stares at him.

“Okay, I’m a mess, please help me.”

Amy smiles.

Jake says, “I’m guessing you want to get rid of the mouse first.”

“No, I think you had the right idea on doing that after you’ve cleared the stuff out. Then it won’t come back. And you can say a proper goodbye. I’m sure you’ve become attached, the two of you having so much in common.”

Jake nods. “Yeah, because he’s awesome! He deserves a good send off.”

They’ve been cleaning for what feels like forever when his stomach starts rumbling.

“Ugh, how can you be hungry, I feel like I’m going to hurl from the smell,” Amy says, but after looking at her watch, and the now almost empty precinct, she pulls her gloves off, “Okay, it’s late, let’s get some take out and then carry on.”

“I would say it’s my treat for your help, but I don’t have any money.”

“That’s okay, you can owe me one.”

“Shouldn’t we eat in the break room so we don’t make more mess?”

“Jake you don’t stop using your space, you just need to clean up afterwards. If you do it every time you won’t get this problem again.”

“Every time?!”

“Yes Jake. And that way you can have a good clean desk when we get the new captain.”

“That’s months away. I mean I’ll try, in honour of our hard work. But let’s be real: my desk is going to be a complete dumpster again by then.”

“Probably.”

“By the way, thanks for helping me.”

“You’re welcome. How could I turn you away when you clearly need me so badly?”

Maybe it’s something in the night air, but instead of responding with another quip he says, oddly sincere, “I really do.”

Amy smiles silently. It makes him strangely happy.

“What shall we do with the mouse?”

Jake grins. “I was putting him by the wall.”

“You’re leaving him in the building!?”

“Yeah, but I guess I should take him to the woods or something.”

“Jake, this mouse has lived inside its whole life; it will die in the woods.”

“Oh.”

She picks it up.

“He’s cute. We should call him Algernon,” she says and laughs. He laughs with her, they both know he doesn’t get the joke- it doesn’t matter.

2015

She’s thinking, staring at the crumbs on Jake’s desk and has the sudden urge to wipe them off.

(It’s a line they don’t cross, a clear-marked boundary, and she for once wants to mess up the lines, mess up the boundaries. Their relationship is in such a weird place, an almost-could’ve-been-but-isn’t place and she wants something to note that, even if it’s just an absence of crumbs. It’s dumb).

And she does so.

She’s pleased afterwards. It’s not that the crumbs bother her anymore, she’s long become used to them. She even has a sort of fondness for the Jake-clutter on the desk joined with hers. She wonders if he’ll notice (she knows he will) and wonders whether he’ll figure her out. He’s so good at figuring her out. But she doesn’t know if he even wants to be with her anymore.

2019

As everyone clears out their desks, Amy’s gaze drifts over to her husband’s messy drawers.

She can’t help but think back through the years, their times spent together at these desks; the messes they made and the messes they cleaned up, both figurative and literal, this was the home they made for the two of them together, before they even realised that together was an option.

They really were ridiculous back then. She can’t imagine why they waited so long.

Amy wonders whether Jake really did take her cleaning the crumbs off his desk as a sign, it seems so dumb now, looking back, though he did mention wanting to ask her out within that same conversation. Or maybe he was just too distracted about wanting to ask her out to realise. She’ll have to ask him. Either way, it worked out in the end.

She knows Jake’s desk is still worse than anyone’s (with the exception of Hitchcock and Scully). But that’s a fight for later. Besides, at least he doesn’t leave crumbs on it anymore.

#brooklyn 99 #peraltiago #jake peralta #amy santiago #jamy #fic #my peraltiago stuff #my brooklyn 99 stuff #my jake peralta stuff #my amy santiago stuff

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goldenclosethq · 6 years ago

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Chapter 2

"I'm your wife, Jungkook.” I blurted out. “We’re married.”

I expected him to scream at me, tell me I’m crazy, or even cry. I don’t even know why I said that. I just desperately didn’t want him to leave, and I felt like it was the only way I would get him to stay.

However, he just froze in his position, looking like as if he was trying to process the words I just said.

"This would be the best time to say something?" I gave him a crooked grin. God, everything about me was awkward. I would probably just inhale oxygen and I would look awkward.

His mouth was still half open while slowly sitting on the couch without moving another muscle. "I'm... married?"

"Yes..."

“How old I am?”

“You’re twenty-two.” I answered nonchalantly.

“And what’s your name?”

“I’m Y/N. But everyone just calls me Y/N.” I said. “Including you.”

“Fuck, I can’t remember anything.” He grunted, burying his head in his hands. “What happened? Please tell me what happened.”

Crap. I haven’t exactly planned how it happened. A few minutes ago, I had no idea I was going to end up telling him that we were fucking married.

"We were on our way to... the movies," I crossed my fingers behind my back. "And it started to rain pretty hard, so the road was slippery. The next thing I knew, we crashed into a pole. I was fine, but you hit your head on the wheel pretty bad."

"Was I on a comma? Did I come from the hospital? Did I get some sort of operation? My head fucking hurts," he blabbered. "I kind of want to die right now. It keeps throbbing. And where am I? Is this our house? Do we have kids? When did we get married? Do I have a family? When was I born? What's my last name?"

My mouth dropped open. “Um, well-”

“No, nevermind. Don’t answer. I need some time alone.” Jungkook headed for the door, completely brushing me off.

“Wait, no!” I said, running in towards him and covering the front door with my arms. “You can’t go.”

“Why not?”

“No.” I crossed my arms. “You’re staying here, and that’s final. You need to rest and let your wound heal.”

To my surprise, he grabbed the bandage wrapped around his head and pulled it off, not too long before he screeched out loud in pain. Blood started to come out of the wound again, making me run to my drawer in panic.

“What the fuck, JK!” I said while grabbing the first aid kit.

He just sat on the bed without saying anything, but he looked like he was in complete pain.

“Don’t do that again.” I warned softly, sitting beside him with a new roll bandage in my hands. I poured the medicine on a clean cloth, before dabbing it on his wound, making him flinch a bit.

"Fine," he winced. "You can tell me everything. I will listen."

"Okay," I gulped. Looks like all those years and months of background research on this guy will be put to good use. "Just one at a time, alright?"

He didn't say anything, but I felt him nod.

"Does it still hurt bad?" I asked.

"Yeah, it hurts internally actually," he nodded.

I felt an instant pang of guilt. I can't believe I drove him straight to my place instead. "I'll drive you to the hospital."

"You don't have to –"

"You have to," I insisted. "It will just be for a while. Just so the doctor can check if there's anything else wrong with you."

He looked up at me with his dark brown eyes. I wanted to melt right then and there, but I had to act normal. Geez, this was a chore.

"Hold on, you didn't bring me to the hospital right after the accident?"

I started to panic deep inside. Sometimes I wish Jungkook was just some dumb gullible kid.

"I did, but they weren't so good. They just put a bandage on you. How stupid is that?" I let out a faint laugh. "I'll take you to a different hospital."

It took a couple of arguments before he finally agreed to go. He looked a bit skeptical, but he dragged himself along with me anyway. He was completely silent during the entire car ride, just staring out the window, watching the cars pass by.

I thought he was going to start questioning me on the way since I'm an absolute fucktard of a liar. But I guess he was sort of gullible. Either that or he's still in a state of bewilderment.

"Hi. We're here for a checkup, please?" I greeted the nurse once we got to the receiving area, while slowly pulling Jungkook behind me. He literally looked like a child who did not want to get his yearly shots.

"For him?" she glanced at Jungkook.

"Yes."

"Relation to the patient?"

"Fri-, I mean... husband," I stammered. "He's my husband."

I saw Jungkook cringe at the mention of the word husband. It kind of crushed me inside, but I chose to ignore it.

The nurse gave us a weird look but shrugged it off before giving us a sheet to fill out. "Please fill this out. I will call you inside in a few minutes."

I took a glimpse at the paper and started to fill out the information, like address, the reason for check up, and the like.

After submitting our form, we sat down on the couch and waited for our turn. There was an awkward stillness for a few minutes when he decided to break the silence.

"How long have we been married?" he asked.

"Nine months," I spat out.

"When is our anniversary?"

“On August, twenty,” I answered. That was actually the day I first saw him a couple of years ago. I could never forget it.

Complete silence. Again.

“Jungkook?” I spoke up.

“Yeah?”

"Why did you flinch when I told the nurse you were my husband?" I asked, hoping the answer wouldn't break my heart. What if he says something like, 'Well it's because you look like a complete freak with that hair of yours, and I wouldn't want to have babies with you.'

He looked down on his shoes while awkwardly tugging at the end of his shirt. "I just..."

"You just what?"

"I just can't believe that I'm married," he finally said.

"Well, Jungkook, don't be surprised," I sighed. "You didn't even know your own name when you woke up."

He opened his mouth, prepared to say something when the doctor called out our names. We both reluctantly got up from our seats and followed him inside.

"Good evening," he greeted warmly. "I'm Dr. Lee. it's nice to meet both of you. So lovely to see such a young married couple."

Jungkook raised an eyebrow while I tried my best to look enthusiastic. "Thank you, Dr. Lee. It's lovely to meet you too."

"Now may I know the details of what happened before I do an x-ray?" he asked.

I let out a deep sigh, before repeating the incident that I invented to Jungkook earlier, adding another invented information that I had already brought him to another hospital. As much as I didn't want to tell him that Jungkook lost his memory, I knew I had to. I was just a bit scared that Dr. Lee might ask him too many questions that could possibly worsen the situation. Well, my situation.

After I telling him the whole story, Jungkook was brought into another room for a special x-ray. A couple of minutes later, both of them came out with a photo of the x-ray in Dr. Lee’s hand.

Jungkook was just completely quiet the entire time, except when Dr. Lee was asking him questions about the kinds of pain that he felt.

"Looks like the concussion just resulted to severe memory loss," he said, handing me the x-ray results. "Thankfully, nothing else was affected. However, it might take awhile before he gains his memory back."

"How long?" Jungkook suddenly spoke up.

"Probably from a few months to a year," he answered. "But that's already maximum. It wasn't that bad of a collision. You will do fine, don't worry."

He turned to me. "In the meantime, your lovely wife here can help you gain your memory back by, say, telling you your love story? Showing some pictures? Maybe a wedding video?"

I felt a knot form in my stomach for I did not have any of those. Shit, what the hell did I get myself into? Maybe I should just run away right now and never show my face to any of them. I needed to get us out of her before this damn doctor gave Jungkook any more ideas.

"Anyway, we will go ahead now," I said, completely ignoring what he had just told us. "Come on, honey, let's go. Thank you so much, Dr. Lee.”

"You are most welcome," he grinned. "I'll see you soon."

God, I hope not.

During the car ride back home, Jungkook looked a lot more attentive. His hands were roaming around the interior of my tiny, red Honda Jazz.

"Do I have my own car?" he asked.

"Yeah, you do," I nodded, keeping my eyes on the wheel. It's a good thing I called the repair shop to have his car picked up from the place of the accident earlier. "It's in the shop, I had it fixed."

He nodded.

I hope he hadn't noticed, but I kept glancing at him while driving. This was the longest I've ever been with him, and if I get to pull this off, I will get to spend even more time with him. I felt like I was actually living my fantasy. I felt the need to pinch myself from time to time when he wasn't looking.

Even with that bandage and pale, bruised lips, he still looked utterly handsome. I hope he wasn't wondering why someone like him ended up with someone like me. If anyone actually looked at us, I'm sure they would wonder. Dr. Lee was probably just trying to be nice and all.

When we got back to the apartment, he went straight back to the bedroom. "I'm taking a nap. My head hurts. Maybe we can talk later?"

"Okay," I said. "I'll wake you up in an hour for dinner?"

"Sounds good," he agreed, laying back on the pillow after kicking his shoes off. I saw him rubbing his fingers before glancing at me one last time.

"Hey, Y/N?”

“Yes, Jungkook?”

"Where's my wedding ring?"

Of course he had to have a wedding ring. What kind of stupid couple didn't have a wedding ring? Fake ones. That's right.

"Oh, darn it!" I exclaimed, trying to sound as convincing as possible. "We must have left it in the first hospital that we went to. They asked you to take it out for a while. I will go back there, and grab us some dinner on the way, sounds good?"

It took a while before he answered. I already thought the jig was up.

"Yeah, sure," he finally responded, before turning around the other side of the bed and facing the window.

I let out a sigh of relief before grabbing my car keys, my wallet, and his wallet and keys, which I kept in my drawer. He would soon look for some clothes, and wonder why he didn't have anything here, so I had to go to his apartment to get his things.

I rushed out of the apartment, before locking the door behind me. I wonder how much a Class A gold ring would cost? He probably wouldn't be able to tell the difference. God damn it, this was a lot harder than I thought.

My stalking skills have been put to good use, since I found it pretty easy to go up to Jungkook’s apartment and get all of his clothes. Some of the tenants gave me a weird look, but I just told them that my boyfriend was moving in with me, and they left me alone. I didn't take all of his things though since that would have required a moving van because damn this guy had more things than a girl.

I just got enough to last him a week, and then maybe I'd go back again after that. Plus I didn't really want to look suspicious, carrying all of his things up and down the stairs of the building.

My next stop was the mall, to get his damn ring. I already had a gold ring in my hand, though it was obviously anything but a wedding ring, it would do. I didn't have enough money to buy two right now. Since he was gullible enough to believe that I was his wife, I'm pretty sure he wouldn't think twice when he sees his ring. And he's a guy. Guys don't care about jewelry.

When I got to mall, my first goal was to find a store that actually sold cheap wedding rings that didn't rust. God, did that even exist?

"Good evening!" greeted the lady at the counter. "What may I help you with?"

"Um, hi," I said. "I'm looking for an affordable wedding ring to...uh...replace the one my husband had. He uh... he lost it."

The lady pouted. "Oh, how unfortunate! What happened to it?"

"Our cat swallowed it," I shrugged.

"He didn't... you know, poop it out?"

My eyes widened. Girl you better stop asking me questions and just hand me a damn fifty-dollar ring.

"He ran away," I randomly blurted out. "It's so sad. We miss him a lot."

"Awwwww, poor kitty!" she made a little purring sound while imitating a cat playing with its whiskers. I swear I want to strangle this girl why does she even exist.

"So, a ring?" I cleared my throat, ignoring her eccentricity. I mean, I knew I was weird but then this girl definitely lived in a planet of her own.

"Oh right! Of course!" she clasped her hands together like an idiot.

I spent quite a long time choosing the perfect ring, even if I had no idea what Jungkook' size was. I mean I've stared at his fingers for a long amount of time already so I guess this should be an easy guess.

I ended up buying one that cost ninety dollars, which I had to pay using my credit card, for like, three fucking months. This whole stunt was going to make me bankrupt by the end of the year.

While I was on my way out of the mall, I suddenly remembered I still had to buy dinner so I had to go back. As I picked out some Japchae takeout from my favorite restaurant, I saw Hanna enter, with a huge smile of relief on her face when she spotted me. Oh dear.

“Y/N!” she exclaimed. Her eyes looked red and puffy, and I suddenly remembered Jin and his stupid proposal. I wonder how that went. "Are you feeling much better now?"

"Mhmm," I nodded while taking the paper bag with food in my hand. "You're grabbing some dinner?"

"Yeah," she said. "Hey, I have a favor to ask..."

Uh oh. No favors allowed. Not tonight please.

"...I was wondering if I could stay with you tonight?" her voice nearly squeaked.

Shit, I knew it.

"Why?" I asked coolly.

"I had a huge fight with Jin," she mumbled. "It's a long story. But I really don't want to stay with him tonight."

"Wait, you guys had a fight? Didn't he – " I stopped when I realized that Hanna looked somewhat clueless. " – oh, nothing. Nothing."

"Do you know something that I don't?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Nope," I innocently shook my head. "Anyway, I really need to go now."

"Wait! I can't stay with you?" she frowned while pulling me back.

Oh right. She just asked if she could stay for the night. My A.D.D was kicking in.

"You can't," I bit my lip. "I'm sorry, but it's complicated. You should sort things out with Jin, okay? Stay with him tonight. The boy is crazy for you."

“Bish! There is something you are not telling me," she crossed her arms below her chest. "Spill."

"I will!" I nodded eagerly, before stepping back from her. "But not today. I promise I will tell you soon. See you tomorrow!"

Before she could even say anything, I pushed myself against the door and ran out of the restaurant. Yes, I literally ran.

Hanna wasn't the type who'd just let things go. She would nag the shitload out of you until you tell her your secret. It's like she has to know everything. And I can't tell her everything. Not now, at least. I didn't have a plan yet.

“Jungkook" I softly called right after entering the apartment. No answer. He was probably still asleep.

I quickly dragged the box filled with some of his clothes right behind me and stuffed them inside my closet before he woke up. He was still sleeping soundly in my bed, like an angel. I wanted to jump in and cuddle with him so badly.

I stood there staring at him for a few minutes, careful not to drool, before deciding to have a quick shower before waking him up for dinner. I went back to doing my usual facial routine that I have neglected in the past few months, along with actually using conditioner for my thick frizzy hair. Knowing the situation I was in, I had to start looking good now. I mean, I'm actually living with Jeon Jungkook, what the actual fuck?

It still hasn't sunk in, and I wasn't really sure when it will.

When I was done with my quick shower that ended up lasting for half an hour, I tiptoed to the end of the bathroom, dripping wet, as I rummaged through the small cabinet for a clean towel. I was about to wrap myself with it when the door suddenly burst open.

"Oh my god!!!" I shrieked, dropping my towel on the floor after I saw Jungkook standing in front of me looking quite stunned himself.

His eyes widened at the sight of my naked body, before quickly looking away. “Aigoo, Y/N. It's nothing I haven't seen yet... right?"

I hurriedly picked up the towel and covered my body with it. It's not like I was going to walk around naked after hearing him say that.

"Uh, of course," I blushed. "I was just surprised, that's all. I thought you were still asleep."

"I just woke up," he yawned, which looked so cute. God, Help me. "I need to use the bathroom if you'd let me."

I awkwardly stepped outside the bathroom to let him go in while struggling to keep my towel on. When he locked the door behind me, I quickly dashed to my room and shut the door closed.

He just saw me naked. Jeon Jungkook just saw me fully naked. I was an idiot for reacting that way, but it was my natural reaction. I know it should be normal for him to see me naked since we were supposedly married, but oh my goodness he just saw me naked. And I haven't even shaved down there yet.

I haven't even shaved, good lord. Now he's going to think I was some unhygienic freak with a hidden bush down under. But who was I kidding, I bet he didn't even want to fuck me nor touch me down there. He was probably thinking of ways to get away from me already.

Why couldn't it have been the other way around? I would have loved to see him naked. Oh my goodness. If I had a dick it would be hard by now. Maybe I should plan and find a way to accidentally bump into him naked after he showers. Then that would involve serious planning, which I could maybe work on tomorrow.

I quickly changed into clean clothes before he saw me naked again. Not that I didn't want to. I just wasn't a hundred percent prepared. And by prepared, I mean I don't look completely fuckable yet. Not that I ever will.

When I heard him come out of the bathroom, I rushed out to the kitchen table to prepare our dinner. Like as if I actually made it, but whatever.

He walked in and sank on one of the chairs, like as if he was a robot and he was doing it because he had to.

"Don't you cook?" he asked while trying to grab the noodles in the box using his chopsticks.

"Yeah, I do," I lied. No. Of course I don't cook. I was a horrible cook. I never had to cook for anyone but myself. I would always have takeout, microwaved pizza, or meatloaf. Or sandwiches and cookies. But of course, I couldn't feed that to my husband. "Just not now, because I had tons of errands to do."

"Oh," he shrugged as he munched on his food. He looked happy with it anyway, so that was good.

"So do you want to talk now?" I asked. I didn't really feel like eating anymore.

"Yeah..." he nodded hesitantly. "... I don't know where to start, though."

"Maybe I could begin by just telling you basic things about yourself?" I suggested.

He nodded again, “Where do I work? And what do I do?"

I froze. I couldn't just tell him where he worked. If he found out, he'd probably go back and ask his boss questions or something.

"You resigned right before your accident," I lied. Again. I'm probably going to be telling him more lies than I had planned. "You worked as an assistant manager in a recording studio."

"Why did I resign?" he frowned.

"You hated your boss." Another lie. His boss was amazing, from what I've heard. Jin and Hanna have worked with him a couple of times.

"Really? Is he an ass?"

"You bet," I nodded.

"So where am I going to work now?" he asked.

I drummed my fingers on the table while thinking of a decent answer. "You haven't actually decided yet. You told me you wanted to take a break and do some...uh...soul searching." What the fuck Y/N?

He let out a soft snicker and took a sip of his juice. "Okay. So how long was I planning to do some, um, soul-searching?"

"Like a month," I answered.

“A month?” He nearly choked on his drink. “Do I even have enough money to sustain myself for a month?”

"You mean us," I corrected. "Like, to help sustain both of us. We're married."

"Yes. I meant us, sorry," he blinked and shook his head.

“And yes, you do.” I say. Now that was a complete guess. I may know everything about this guy but definitely not the amount he had saved up in his bank account.

"Well, it looks like I'm really going to have to do some soul searching anyway," he mumbled. "If you know what I mean."

I reached across the table and held his hand while feeling like screaming deep inside. Not that I haven’t touched him in the past few hours, but I am still touching him and that’s enough to give me butterflies. “You will be okay. I’ll help you and I’ll be with you the whole time.”

“I know,” He said almost in whisper. “I just think it’s unfair.”

“Unfair? What do you mean?”

He wrapped my fingers around my hand and squeezed it. “It’s unfair for you.”

I’m pretty sure I just peed in my pants.

"W-why is it unfair for me?" I tried my best to form actual words. Of course I knew what he meant by this whole thing being unfair for me. I just wanted to hear him say it.

"Because we're married. And I'm sure everything was perfect before the accident," he said. "You have these feelings for me that I unfortunately can't reciprocate right now. I wish I could remember everything right this very moment, Y/N. I really do.”

As much as what he said just felt like a knife through my chest, I knew it was a good thing. He may not feel anything for me now, but at least he's open to the idea of maybe feeling something for me sooner or later.

"Don't feel bad about it, Jungkook.” I reassured. "It's okay. I'm going to be patient. I'm not giving up on you until you remember everything."

You have no idea how much I did not mean that last part. I didn't want him to remember everything. Because I wasn't part of any of his memories before all of this happened. I can't possibly remind him of his old life. I had to make new memories with him. Memories where I exist.

Then that's when it hit me.

He can't live here. He can't stay in this city. The longer he stays here, the more chances of him remembering everything. This is where his life is. His job, his boss, his colleagues, his friends – everything. The moment he steps out of this apartment, he could totally find out about everything, including my huge ass lies.

I had to get him out of here. I had to move us out of this city. I just need to find a way to make him agree. Holy shit, will this be considered as kidnapping?!

***

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkooksmut #bts jungkook #bts fanfic #smut #romance #bts jjk #cutefanfic #fanfic

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ofangelos-archive · 6 years ago

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angelos almeida back with his third studio album entitled, “are you proud of me ?”

“this album... it’s probably the most personal one i’ve put out yet. there was a lot of hesitation with this one-- a lot of push and pull. i had to delve back into my past to write some of these songs, and honestly it was... scary. it was terrifying remembering the mental state i was in. i’ve never claimed to be a good guy: you can listen to my second album if you want a taste of how bad my actions were. this album though, i’m not talking about what i did, or who i did or... anything like that. it’s how i felt. and i realized i need to open up more about my past. i need to be more upfront and honest. this album is a journey from beginning to end. i started off alone, but... now i’ve got people who love me, and that means the world to me. but no matter how much i’ve grown, i need to realize that i’m still me. that this growth is me. i hope you like it; i hope you’re proud of me.”

i. sorry. “i don't love myself, yeah, i'm no good for my health. i was tryna find happiness somewhere else, but i search, search, search and found nothing. keep finding nothing. i regret all my pasts but i like when i bleed, ‘cause if i'm feeling something, then i'm feeling free. numb to the fact that my heart black, so many missed calls, i lost track, put on a facade like i'm all that. deep down, feeling like i lost that. feel like i lost myself, feel like i lost it all. am i the only one that feels like this ? sorry for the man i am, sorry for the man i’ve been.”

“before i met my wife, i went through a lot of people. i kept looking for this thing called love, but i never found it in anyone. people would make me feel less empty-- like i was wanted, but... it was just never enough. i was numbed out most of the time, faded as fuck because that was the only time i could really feel anything. it’s... hard to talk about because i didn’t just use the drugs and the alcohol... it got to a point where i needed them to function. i still deal with addiction to this day-- i’m clean now, but... it’s always something i have to look out for. it’s always going to be a part of me. i started with this song to get the apologies out of the way. if i’m going to acknowledge my past, i have to acknowledge the people i’ve hurt. and tell i’m sorry. because i am. and they deserve that.”

ii. maybe it’s today. “what's the world to a man without his soul ? yeah i've had it all, had it all but still alone. hate that i'm so empty, wish that i could change. well maybe it's today... yeah i had it all, built me up on hype but still feeling less. see me living out dreams, but don't see my emptiness. i had to hit the ground, dark depression building up. you could say you understand me, but really nobody does.”

“i’m just not an open person. especially when it comes to my family. the only people that really know everything about me... my mom... my dad... are marnie and ricky. ricky’s been there since i was a little kid--- he’s been there through everything. he’s never once given up on me, and i know that’s hard to do. marnie’s my soulmate. she knows everything about me: i think she knows me better than i know myself sometimes. but that’s it. i’m not trying to excuse my past. because most of it is unacceptable under any terms, but... there’s more to the story than most people know.”

iii. alone. “and i hope you don't judge me, all i know is how to be who i am. and if you start to touch me, i hope you know the place where we stand. don't tell me that you love me, ‘cause i won't love back. don't tell me that you need me, ‘cause i don't need that. don't tell me that you want me, ‘cause i'm on my own.”

“this song is about... literally all of my past relationships. i couldn’t really handle the emotional side of relationships as well as i could handle the physical side of things, to put it in short. even when i was in a relationship, i just felt so alone because i couldn’t make that connection. i wanted to feel wanted because... i just... i had never felt that before, and it was addicting to know that people thought of me. that someone thought i was worth something. but whenever someone expressed that openly, it terrified me. because i knew i would let them down without a doubt. i was alone.”

iv. myself. “i'm not concerned with drama, i left that shit in school. i'm more concerned with commas than keeping up with you. keep that away from me, i put the heisman up to bad energy. no empathy, especially when the kid off hennessy. fake friends to me make my mood go south like tennessee, make the fool come out like, "who is he ?" i mean, i'm trying to tell y'all, i'm better by myself.”

“there’s some more recent influence in this song. but the overall message about being better by myself is based in the past. i shut people out... i still do to most people.”

v. i’m gone. “designer on me, i’m covered in that gucci. is that tension in the air ? or baby, is that just me ? too strong, i'm gone, yea. let me switch this flow up real quick. go getter, v for vendetta. whatever, i just do better. trendsetter, search for the cheddar, no pressure, float like a feather. smooth dude, big moves, big trees, like snoop. now i'm back, let me bring it back to the track, oh, yea, can't stop, won't stop, yea. it's too late, for me. i poured it too strong, now, baby, i'm gone.”

“if you would’ve told me back then that i’d have the life i have now, i would’ve laughed right in your face. i was gone. i thought there was no coming back from who i’d become. i was living just because i kept waking up in the morning. there was no reason besides that.”

vi. bruv. “now my state of mind is every single thing i drop. you told me never lose yourself just to reach the top. you say i'm growing up, but got a lot to learn. stopped living reckless when i felt the afterburn, always had a passion that be different from the rest. i’m to driven to give you anything but my best. remember when i thought i had this figured out ? i don't know what i'm doing now... but i wouldn't be here right now if it wasn't for my brother now. it's all you, yeah, it's all you i'ma make you proud of me.”

“he knows who he is.”

vii. i just. “i just want you girl, never can i want more, got my mind right but you’re still here. no one knows what i feel here. couple scars from my past now, but i’’l let them heal here, yeah i'm scared to death, you deserve the best, i’m not good enough.”

“marnie was different. from the moment i saw her, she was different. maybe it’s ‘cause i was faded off my ass, but... the way she carried herself... the way she didn’t take shit from me like everybody else did. she wasn’t afraid of me. she made me feel human. i thought she was great. i thought i wasn’t good enough. she’s helped me heal more than anybody else. she taught me that i’m not broken.”

viii. lookatyou (interlude). “for you, i’ll travel 'cross the world. 20 hours in a plane just 'cause you my girl. wanna see you smile; fuck the diamonds and the pearls. promise me your pretty heart will never ever change, promise me your pretty soul will always stay the same. hope one day i can see your ass like all the time, wake up in the morning; wish you right here by my side. see all of these boys holler at you all the time. you were lookin' at these boys like it's funny that they try. yea, yea. i hope all of your dreams come true, yea, yea. i hope i get to see you improve, yea, yea. even though for you, that's a tough thing to do, ‘cause look at you, look at you, look at you.”

“i found this little song that i wrote when marnie and i first started... well... not dating. both us insisted we weren’t dating. but she was the only person i was seeing, and i was the only one she was seeing too.”

ix. dreams. “i had a dream about you last night, your eyes were shining so bright. those lips and that bittersweet smile, i need this forever. beautiful dream, yea, yea. don't know what it means, yea, yea. all i know is i don't know, but i need this forever. you give me feelings that i can't explain to you. girl, i was cold for a while, now i'm something new. tell me what you want, anything at all, i got it though. swear to god we unstoppable, yea.”

“marnie completely changed me as a person. she’s made me so much more confident in myself. so much more secure in my thoughts... i’m something new. because of her. i give her full credit for helping me become the man that i am today. the man that’s happy to tell the world that i have a badass wife and a beautiful kid. i need this forever, and now i have it forever.”

x. cartier. “and that's the thing, that thing right there. yea, that's my girl, i can't share. maybe i'm selfish, i get a little jealous. i lose my mind when you say that. balmain silk slip off your back, you get so impatient. i know you got your cravings, so tell me you didn't tell all of your girlfriends about this. tell me you still think my neighbors don't know, girl, you shout it. girl, i know that you've been trying, i swear i'm the proudest, but the question is, girl, do you think that you could live without it ? nothing on you when you naked ‘cept a cartier bracelet. silhouette through the shower, fuck you 24 hours. sun peeking through the curtains, know i'm with you when you're hurting, baby girl, the world's ours.”

“marnie and i are both jealous people. god, especially when we first started seeing each other. shit was wild. she’s wild. i love her. i can’t stop smiling. maybe we weren’t the best couple when we started off-- maybe we still aren’t to other people. but i love us. i love everything we’ve been through.”

xi. mine. “you so fucking precious when you smile, hit it from the back and drive you wild. girl i lose myself up in those eyes, i just had to let you know you're mine. i'm so fucking happy you're alive, swear to god i'm down if you're down all you gotta say is right. girl anything i can do just to make you feel alright, oh. i just had to let you know you're fine. running circles 'round my mind, even when it's rainy all you ever do is shine. you on fire, you a star just like mariah. man this feel incredible, i'll turn you into a bride, you're mine.”

“i could talk about marnie for days, and it wouldn’t be enough time to truly express how i feel about her. i want to be the best person i can be for her. the growth never stops. i’m constantly trying to improve. she’s my girl. i’d do anything for her. i love her so much--- more than i thought it was possible to love someone. it’s exhilarating.

xii. fuck this club. “hair done up high, dressed to the nines. tell me what is a man supposed to do ? with that gucci black dress and pearls around your neck, thinking 'bout how they would look up on my floor, so by any little chance you want to take a chance. we could close up our tab, hit the road. baby, let's go, girl, fuck that club, leave with me...”

“i also found this old song and had to put it on the album. i remember this night exactly. it was the first night i met marnie. i couldn’t take my eyes off of her. i couldn’t stop talking to her. i couldn’t just... walk away. god, she’s so perfect. i love her.”

#career #this is a lot so if u read all of this i love u marry me #addiction tw #depression tw #drugs tw #hehe

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onefunnelaway8-blog · 6 years ago

Text

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One funnel away

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one funnel away challenge

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Most instances, you might be sent the duplicate of your worksheet or workbook by using e mail then you definitely print it if you want. Russell does it distinctive!

When you sign up for the Just one Funnel Away Challenge, you have a free of charge 30 Days 550 Web page Hardcover e book delivered to the residence deal with that can help keep you up together with the each day responsibilities and assignment.

This training problem workbook arrives having a checklist of various day-to-day duties that you choose to need to finish everyday, in excess of plenty of writing and jotting room for putting down important factors and ideas you could get during the system in the problem, each day video coaching one-way links and some other resourceful inbound links which might be beneficial.

3. An Mp3 Participant with One-Funnel Absent Obstacle Live Recordings: A further awesome point you get in the One Funnel Absent Challenge kit can be an mp3 participant with dwell recordings from the stay periods from the past A single Funnel Absent Obstacle.

By way of example, when you register for the coming One Funnel Away Obstacle, you obtain a little mp3 player with the initial Just one Funnel Away Challenge recordings. This is certainly valued at $247.00!

Using this type of machine, you may pay attention to those education periods with your automobile, on the fitness center, if you are traveling or even in your bed prior to deciding to rest. This helps make the training less difficult to observe especially for the people functioning nine to five work opportunities. Basically, you may effortlessly multi-task and hear to classes speedier.

Entirely, you get about 50 instruction lesson recordings and about forty (40) several hours of training lessons.

four. 30 Days of Video-Missions from Russell Brunson: This is essentially the foremost material or price you will get from signing up for the One particular Funnel Absent Obstacle. Upon registering, you'll get a full 30 working day online video missions from Russell himself. These are definitely lessons and guides which will get you because of the hand and enable you to commence and create your first or upcoming profits funnel in 30 days.

If you have tried to start off an internet based business then you would know the way difficult it may be to start out a company, make the right merchandise as well as get men and women to truly invest in. It will take an entire whole lot of your time and strength.

A sales funnel can be a sequence of levels that a business designs which a customer (or possible purchaser) passes by means of to become a shopper. For instance, when a visitor lands on the squeeze web site (or landing site), he or she is then available an incentive to sign up to you e-mail lists exactly where they get tailor-made email content material qualified to having them acquire your merchandise.

The recently subscribed visitor will get specific e-mail articles that concentrates on setting up trust and romance wanted in advance of even promoting any product or solutions. The gross sales funnel program is there for just a pretty long time even ahead of the online market place was born.

Building a product sales funnel for your personal on line enterprise is often authentic difficulty specially when you really do not know where by to start. The trouble of creating individual landing pages, purchase webpages, thank you webpages, up-sell internet pages then connecting them all alongside one another is usually overwhelming. Most situations, entrepreneurs and business people end up supplying up.

Here is the detail;

Without the need of a web based profits funnel for your on the web business enterprise, you are able to not actually create a stable, passive income. You would probably not have the capacity to develop an internet based company that replaces your 9 to 5 task or give you the freedom you need. The reality about most on-line organization proprietors is that they wish to establish a steady regular profits without the need to trade all their time for it. Some on the web company homeowners come up with a good chunk of cash but are usually not truly pleased or free of charge because they trade their time for cash.

A revenue funnel is exactly what can clear up this problem. It requires out the trouble of having to trade your time and effort for dollars and genuinely create a passive revenue stream without having to strain by yourself.

Russell comprehended this and made a decision to start his corporation, ClickFunnels. A Saas business that helps small business proprietors sell extra without the need to trade time. Generally, it helps you create marketing revenue funnels from the simplest strategies possible. This tool has actually been proven to generally be the best revenue funnel creator in the world as entrepreneurs have used it to build sales funnels that have produced a lot of dollars each day.

In reality, 1 of Russell’s funnels crank out a minimum of $500,000 each individual thirty day period.

This idea at the rear of the Just one Funnel Away Obstacle is just to indicate small business homeowners that ClickFunnels can really enable them to grow their firms to the things they dream of it. With ClickFunnels, you may create a company and escape the 9 to 5 occupation trouble for good.

Russell’s movie lessons educate you ways to get started on from very little and establish a funnel that may mature your organization exponentially. These movie lessons will manual you through the methods you require to just take to go from $0 to 1000s of pounds in gross sales applying only one product sales funnel.

These classes tend not to only educate you but in addition provide you with just how you can do it in just 30 days. Pretty terrific is not it? You furthermore mght find out how ClickFunnels functions and the way for getting started off making use of the software.

5. 30 Days of Coaching from Stephen Larsen and Julie Stoian: For each and every on the internet instruction session marketers be part of, you can find generally a necessity for coaching sessions where by students get to talk to personalized thoughts and acquire responses from knowledgeable men and women. The One Funnel Absent Challenge is no distinct.

Russell has picked two (2) income funnel industry experts, Stephen Larsen and Julie Stoian for this. I really had Julie Stoian on my podcast not long ago and she shared an awesome strategy on ways to essentially provide your courses before you even develop them.

Pupils reach check with queries and get them answered by knowledgeable gurus. This fashion, studying is less complicated and overwhelm is minimized.

Here's the tutor breakdown;

Russell Brunson would be the mastermind powering the Just one Funnel Absent Problem and also the strategist. Russell will tutor you with day-to-day teaching videos that will help you create the right product sales funnel in your on the internet company. He'll put down the main groundwork there is to developing a product sales funnel, the basic principles of getting going and the way to scale your funnels.

Julie Stoian could be the transformer and would enable you to switch your thirty working day thoughts into a actual funnel that is constructed. Mainly, she’s an authority at turning mere small business thoughts from your desire stage into truth that really generates money. Aspect take note: I did have Julie Stoian as a visitor on my podcast and he or she practically rocked it.

Ultimately, Stephen Larsen could be the executioner and will mentor you day by day on stay group calls. Primarily, he receives all your questions answered and in addition offers an additional hand to those people who may possibly will need it.

Stephen is just one which makes certain learners execute their duties, assignments and actually establish their gross sales funnels.

THE Program BREAKDOWN:

Here’s a simple breakdown overview on the training course classes you get any time you sign-up and join the One particular Funnel Absent Obstacle.

7 days one: Pre-Training (State of mind)

Week 2: The Hook, Tale along with the Offer

Week 3: Create the Funnel

7 days 4: Targeted visitors and Efficient Advertising

Week 1: THE Frame of mind

The main week on the One Funnel Away Challenge mainly concentrates on having your mindset suitable. Before you decide to can actually make a internet marketing product sales funnel that could adjust your lifetime, you will need to have your frame of mind proper very first. While using the completely wrong mentality, there exists practically very little 1 can perform to achieve his goals and aims in everyday life.

Russell helps you correct your belief, obtain your way of thinking proper, discover your worst fears plus your strengths. The only strategy to escape from that 9 to five occupation will be to get all these suitable.

Think of it for a pre-training attitude that is definitely intended to acquire you suitable with the big deal. To get ready you for that big offer, Russell focuses on igniting some thing in you. He focuses on inspiring you and acquire the flames burning to have the ability to conquer whatever task or problem you could experience from the future thirty times.

These mainly assist you learn and believe in you in addition to have confidence in that you can achieve anything you established to to obtain. Can it be escaping the nine to 5 headache? This concentrates on acquiring you the mindset needed to strike this focus on within the following 30 times.

7 days 2: THE HOOK, Tale plus the Provide

To get a organization to really get folks to pay you in your products and solutions or providers you may need the hook, story and state of mind. This is often what sets your online business aside and truly receives individuals to have confidence in your merchandise or solutions.

There's a favorite stating that men and women buy the tale not the attributes. This part of the A single Funnel Away Challenge concentrates on location you up for this.

The hook is just that which you publish, say or communicate in your concentrate on audience to acquire them really psyched or pumped up regarding your company and also your solutions (or providers). The hook is always the main step within your income copy concept. It is actually a method that not just company homeowners leverage but in addition speakers, trainers or instructors.

The tale would be the meaty part of the duplicate. You require to find a novel and fascinating tale that appeals specially on your goal viewers or potential consumer. Russell Brunson is learn at this as every of his tale receives me.

His stories are often on point plus they usually capture and captivate his audience which gets them over excited to obtain his solutions or be part of his applications. Russell is often a learn at this!

At last, the Give is the place you truly current your products or services. The supply is what men and women pay for.

The supply is your item (or solutions) plus your products really should address a selected issue that your target viewers faces. Discover a unique angle that the competitiveness is lacking out and hit your goal viewers with it. The supply is totally useless and not using a great hook along with a charming story.

Like I discussed, Russell is really a learn at this and will stroll you thru ways to turn into a professional at it far too.

7 days three: Build THE FUNNEL

This module demonstrates you accurately ways to start off and develop your precise funnel. At this time, you bring out your thought into actuality. You deliver it out into an precise funnel that could begin making revenue instantly.

This module exhibits you the way ClickFunnels is effective and accurately how to get began utilizing the software.

Russell exhibits you around the shoulder video clips from the ClickFunnels software program and that means you can practically see how you can make squeeze pages, landing internet pages, thank you webpages as well as your upsell webpages easily. The ClickFunnels computer software was constructed for simplicity and relieve not simply for that business enterprise house owners and also the shoppers.

ClickFunnels aims at earning your consumer at ease and his obtaining encounter pleasurable and straightforward. In this way, your shoppers would often need to come back for additional.

With this particular software program application, company proprietors could setup substantial converting product sales funnels for their products and services inside of couple of minutes. In actual fact, I have viewed one of Russell’s video clips wherever two persons constructed a complete income funnel making use of the ClickFunnels in below an hour.

The A single Funnel Away Obstacle reveals you the way it is possible to do that in your enterprise far too.

Week 4: Traffic AND Successful Advertising

To put it simply, with no visitors and powerful marketing, every advertising and marketing profits funnel is ineffective in spite of how wonderful it is. Marketing and traffic would be the fuel of each gross sales funnel, squeeze or landing website page. Just about every on line enterprise needs ample traffic to endure, thrive and become in a position to grow.

There may be no business enterprise devoid of folks coming to it. Without visitors not one person would know your goods exists not to converse of purchasing them.

With this chapter, Russell concentrates on showing the top traffic technology procedures you could potentially use to generate 1000s of world-wide-web visitors into your gross sales funnels. These strategies consist of social media marketing, search engines like yahoo and paid out ads. As an example, Russell pays attention to facebook advertisements because he believes it is actually a person from the only tips on how to push folks for your product sales funnel immediately.

Using an expenditure of the number of bucks, you might push 1000s of people in your squeeze web site in which you sell to them and have back again your ROI (return on expense). Search at it this way;

You develop a $50 item and establish an efficient income funnel for it. You then invest $200 into facebook advertisements. This could drive 1000s of people for your income funnel and with only four income, you'd probably get better back again your facebook advertisements investment decision.

Value

To join the A single Funnel Absent Challenge, it fees only $100. With $100, you can get the many characteristics, trainings, bonuses and coaching classes there exists in this schooling series. It can be completely value every single penny. In fact, this system is valued at $3,126 however, you get all these for just $100 right now.

For that cost, I are unable to advocate this software additional. $100 to develop the aspiration enterprise you have got constantly wanted or maybe 100 bucks to flee the 9 to 5 stress.

Last Verdict

In conclusion, the One Funnel Away Problem is valuable expense you'd make. The material, bonuses and teachings you can get are top notch and they are much value a lot more than a $100 investment decision. No matter what business you're in: large ticket nearer, start-up, or currently at 7 figures, you will get a tone of price from this problem.

I remarkably advocate that you simply sign-up for that coming A person Funnel Away Obstacle currently and get ready to make the company you and your loved ones have earned.

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