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tempest2k · 4 years ago

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[PAGES /2 - /84]

So, Vast Error, huh? I’m finally getting around to this thing after being aware of it for many, many years. For a long time I intended to get around to reading it, but it never seemed to happen. For last year I’ve actually been kind of avoiding it for unspecified reasons, but I’m finally ready to give it a shot, and I’m so glad I did. So far, I’m really enjoying myself. I’ve written quite a few notes, so let’s try to convert them into something professional before I pass out at my desk for the night.

Vast Error starts off as any typical fanventure would: an “enter name” gag, and an outline of our protagonist’s interests. Nothing really out of the ordinary. Wriggling days are unsignificant, and the 22nd bi-lunar perigee of the dark season's 3rd blink seems to be Arcjec’s. Oh right, his name is Arcjec Voorat. Moving on. We can tell from the Mountain Dew Code Red cans around the room that he appears to be the Repitonian equivalent of an alcoholic, assuming soda and alcohol have the same parallel on Repiton as on Alternia. So far I have no real way of knowing, but it’s safe to assume I could be wrong here. Just an interesting detail I noticed, because it makes Arcjec out to be even more of a supposed loser than he is already established to be (which I assume is the point, I don’t find his character uncompelling due to these traits).

Skorpe is a pretty obvious take on Skype, which immediately dates this comic to having started back when people still used Skype. I feel so fucking old saying that. Damn. Arcjec’s handle is animatedHumorist, which is funny because this guy seems to not be very animated unless he’s falling out a window. XDXD Also, his quirk is cringe. XDXD

On the subject of windows, some asshole throws a pebble at his. Following is a REALLY nice scrolling panel on page /28. I never get used to smooth scrolling in this art style, but I always absolutely adore it. Even early on, the tech on panels seems to be ahead of what I can imagine was its competition. Arcjec feels pretty certain he’s going to fucking die, so as all brave warriors do, he goes to hide under his desk. Unfortunately his plan is foiled when some asshole messages him. “Blue guy”, or windlessArtificer seems to want Arcjec to play a game, a trope all too common to fanvetures. We need you in the gaaaaame Arcjec. But of course he says no, as his life is in a bit of immediate danger.

It’s at this time I’d like to point out that Skorpe is a horrifying program, and I made a joke about it wanting to kill me in my notes so... maybe there’s something there. I don’t know. Let’s go back to windows, that was a fun subject.

Whoops.

Arcjec falls out of the window, and we move on to a different character. Before we do, though, we get some interesting prose here. It seems to imply that Repiton used to be a different place, or at least that Arcjec used to be in a much different situation. I’m curious how exactly Repiton was different, but it’s not as though there are a lot of clues. Perhaps the violent injustice used to be more comparable to Beforus’ civilization, rather than what appears to be a clear parallel to Alternia? I’m not really sure. Let’s be another character already. Not the blue guy though, because apparently he’s too good for us.

But there’s nothing to worry about apparently, because it’s clown time. I’m sure the audience is ecstatic, but please calm down. I haven’t even hit post yet. I haven’t even pasted the image in yet!

Ok, now you can lose your minds clapping.

That is, if clowns and wrestling are your sort of thing. This is Taz. No full name included here, but that’s alright. Another standard intro plays out, though this time more aggressive. The Merthful Messiahs we’re all so used to from Homestuck seem to be replaced by the much more present and violent Merthamaniacs. This appears to just be Repitonian wrestling, turned into a religion, complete with the violence and death provided by troll societies. Also Hulk Hogan is the twin-president usurper-equivalent on Repiton, I think. I understand what happened, I’m just not sure how to phrase it.

Not a whole lot happens here, though something very noteworthy is that the ocean is totally fucked up. Is this what that prose from earlier was referring to? The oceans are so poisoned and radioactive, that all sealife has become incredibly hostile and cannibalistic. Trolls have naturally evolved to avoid water at all costs. That’s like... a lot of worldbuilding to just casually drop? But I assume it’s going to come in handy for keeping our protagonists from cheesing their way out of predicaments.

I had some notes regarding the ferocity waver and Taz’s Skorpe handle, preniciousOverkill, but I don’t really have anything to say about the subjects. I also wrote “the clown wants to kill me, it’s like Skorpe all over again” in my notes, so if there’s any kind of running joke that would work here, please let me know.

Oh hey, a new Skorpelog. This time it’s with Murrit. I know I haven’t been introduced to him yet, but I’ve known three characters in Vast Error long before I ever started reading: Arcjec, Ellsee, and Murrit. Murrit seems pretty fun. I like how he just seems to streamroll the conversation into his favor. He also talks about that pesky game we heard about before. I smell a SBURB session, but maybe not a SBURB session because honestly anything could happen here. These tropes are all being set up, but will they be subverted? Who knows. Well, you might, if you’re reading this. Is Austin reading this? Hey Austin, how’s it going? Oh shit, sorry, no time to chat, I’ve gotta get back to this blog post.

Cool shot of Murrit. Not much to say here. The fish stuff I mentioned before is actually brought up AFTER this conversation, I kinda fucked up. Anyway, Murrit mentions something about an informant, and based on what little I know about this comic, I’m going to assume it’s the guy we see in a couple pages. Or in this case, the very next section.

Fuck is up with this dude? On the very first sound page, we see Arcjec have some kind of dream about this guy who I’m assuming is Murrit’s mentioned informant. When he wakes up, the narration says it happened “again”, implying skull guy is a regular cast member of Arcjec’s dreams. I don’t have much in the way of wrapping things up, so I’ll end with a random theory I just thought of. Is this guy related to why Repiton’s changed, assuming that’s what the prose meant? Does this guy know a guy who was responsible? Who’s to say?

This has been fun, but it’s 1:30am, and I need to get some sleep. Catch you next time.

#nukeve #vast error

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daomaikeng · 5 years ago

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@ot3flopped

I AM COMING AT YOU

First of all, this is nothing personal, I just hate you. Read this whole thing with a cool brain for once.

Because you keep popping in my feed when I don't even follow you and I've reported you at least 5 times.

You are without a doubt going to find loopholes or grammatical/spelling mistakes in this rant and you're going to attack me for it, but that's only because you're too egoistic to accept that you're an idiot. You may even ignore the main point i'm trying to make and focus on one sentence or whatever. You'll get stuck on one out of place or irrelevant sentence. I may have started a war and you may report me as many times as you like for whatever, but I don't care. I'm proud that I stood up for what I believe in. People do see your posts and hate them, but at least I did something about it.

I honestly think you need help. You should maybe show your blog to a professional and then let's see if they call it "a lovely place" and "the best thing I've seen during quarantine". I don't know how your filthy followers think your blog is a lovely place. And also no wonder you don't have many followers because people actually love ot3. It is NOT ok to bully anyone, even celebs.

The people you insult are someone's idols. Someone has remained alive because of them. They've helped someone through their dark days. You don't get any right to insult the person or their fans because simply, it's got NOTHING to do with you.

I don't like Justin Bieber, Lizzo and Billie Eilish, but I don't insult them. They all have massive fandoms, and they mean so much to each and every fan. Just because I don't like them, doesn't give me the right to humiliate and make fun of them. Just because I don't agree with it doesn't give me the right to call their fans crazy. It may mean the world to the fans. And you know, when you speak about ot3 the way you do, it hurts. It actually really hurts. Ngl, I cried last night after stalking you [which was probably a mistake but yeah, it happened. It made me sick.]

Harry Styles is not the most perfect person on this planet. He has flaws too, just like everyone else. I could say so many bad, false things about H or Zayn, but I won't, because I love them and accept them for who they are. And also I won't stoop down to your level.

You don't believe in Larry. Understandable. But that does NOT mean that you can insult fans or shippers. If you need to know, I'm the same anon who asked you what you're going to do when Larry come out, and you called me deluded. No worries. I'm used to it. I'm a Larry shipper.

I also asked you that your blog can simply be a Harry Styles fan blog, but you don't need to drag ot3 down. You replied saying that it is indeed a Harry fan blog. NO. It's not. It's a place where you simply hate on ot3 and try to prove your point by using rumours and irrelevant words.

If you are indeed a Harrie, I'm assuming you believe in treating people with kindness. Even though you may not like the song, he's your 'idol' (who I'm not going to insult because I'm not a jerk) and you are most probably going to hang on to his every word.

You say that Harry hated his bandmates and similar shit. [Once again, you are going to attack me saying "I NEVER SAID THAT STOP TWISTING MY WORDS"] Yeah whatever. According to you, Harry was the only good person in One Direction and he believed they were foolish idiots and so he distanced himself from them but he's still humble. Bullshit. BULLSHIT.

Harry loved and to this day loves each and every single one of them. I'm not going to believe your baseless facts.

If you do believe in tpwk (which, even if you don't, you should, you dumbfuck) then why the hell is Liam the exception to your so-called kindness? He said he was suicidal, he said his mental health is deteriorating, and if he's finally doing something that makes him happy {the YT weekly things that made you call him a clown}, then why do you have to ruin it? We are loving it!

LP1 was definitely not his best work, he could have done better, but hey, it makes him happy. He's experimenting with new music, he's getting a chance to make music his way, however he wants, so why poke your nose in between? Don't listen to the album if you don't want to, easy as that.

And he's doing it so casually, he's enjoying himself, we're enjoying watching him, WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM?

Not everyone has to be a perfect YouTuber. It's ok if Zayn's tattoo artist made a mistake in the poem. Just because you think you're perfect (jokes on you mate, you're not) does not mean people are not allowed to make mistakes.

Everybody makes mistakes. And everybody is allowed to make them. It's part of being human. People make mistakes. They're forgiven. Big deal?

So what if Niall is half naked on Instagram and he shows his chest hair? If you don't want to watch it, don't. Easy shit. No one is forcing you to look at him. So what if he slid into some Arabella's DMs? His life bruh smh

It's so easy to bully a celebrity. You think it's ok because they'll never see them. Maybe they'll never see those posts, but that does not mean it's ok to bully them. They already have such low self esteem because of staying in the limelight 24/7, and just when they get it back, there's people like you waiting.

I made 4 drafts trying to speak to you properly, but I've decided to fight fire with fire. Maybe it wasn't the best decision, but I'm willing to take the risk. Maybe I shouldn't be wasting my time doing this, writing to you when you'll stop reading after the first paragraph, but I will not let you spread hate. I'll report you and I will END you if it's the last thing I do.

Most of the times, I don't call out hateful people on the internet, because I assume they're having a bad day and yk sometimes it happens.. I'm not perfect either. But you do this everyday. Every single post. You might have low self esteem and you channel that hate on your blog. You are a bully.

I honestly don't want to be mean and I didn't want to generalise (also no offence to solo Harries who are not jerks) but you are the definition of a solo Harrie. Hear me out, I'm not saying every single one of you is bad, some of them are actually really good. But there's lots like you who believe Harry Styles is the best gift this universe gave us and no one else on the planet compares to him because he's perfect. I love him endlessly but his fans are obnoxious. It's people like you who feel the need to interfere everywhere. Like for example, that Billie-Zayn-Louis drama. What the hell did Harries have to do with anything?? You think you guys own the Internet. Sorry to burst your bubble, you don't. It's people like you who hate on ot4/ot3 and you shut down his social media presence. It's now used only for promotions. Poor kid's been in the spotlight for 10 years, give him a damn break.

Do you ever think Harry sees the tweets about his bandmates and feels his heart break? Harry and Zayn were not the only members of One Direction. Each one of ot5 made One Direction what it was. It would've been hella different if even one of them wasn't there. One Direction never was and never will be Harry&Co.

You guys are also in love with Modest! management, and I will not even go there because this rant will be twice as long. All I can say is, you're blind. You're fucking blind.

So what if Louis acted like a kid and he comes across as immature? He can be whatever the fuck he wants to be, he doesn't need your approval. He's been through so much shit and he'd give his life for the 1D boys. I can't imagine how someone can be this rude and hateful. And I saw an anon on your blog about the Torn performance, where Louis was lip-syncing. Like, bruh, duh! He missed rehearsals and Harry carried it, big deal! Everyone knows he lip-synced, even Simon, and everyone knows the reason why. They didn't even try to hide it.

I don't expect you to immediately fall in love with ot3 and start stanning them [here's the part where you say "as if I'd ever like those losers" in that case FUCK YOU YOU FUCKING HYPOCRITE] but I tried. If you feel even a bit of remorse, a tiny drop of regret [which I know you will though you'll never admit it] and if you have even a bit of feelings and kindness and compassion left in you, I succeeded.

Please -I'm not begging you, simply asking- spread love. As I said, make your blog a Harry fan blog, which you can do even if you don't hate on ot3. To prove your devotion to Harry, you don't need to hate on his bandmates.

Thank you for reading this.

I hope the best for you. Truly.

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queen-rogah · 5 years ago

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Chasing Dreams - Part 3

A Queen AU Series

Summary: In the year of 1971, a fresh out of college girl like you dreamed to be the best musician/performer you will ever be. You have been performing in a pub since you’re 17, earning a small amount of money through singing in the train station by sun down. Until the time passed, someone saw you singing in your usual corner in that station and little did you know that he will help you change your life to chase your dream as a performer…

Warnings: mild angst (like mild depression and anxiety problems) mild fluff, it’s not that much for this part

Word Count: 3.3k+ words

Note: AND DOUBLE UPDATE OF THIS SERIES SINCE IT’S BEEN SITTING FOR TWO DAYS SO THAT’S WHY I HAVE TO POST IT RN :)

*MASTERLIST*

PART 1 | PART 2

________________________

♡♡♡ PART THREE: “MUSIC FOR THE BROKEN SOUL” ♡♡♡

THREE WEEKS AFTER

Graduation happened a week ago, that was the day that you hated. You have to see most of their faces, those devilish faces that played you in that damn party. You still didn’t told your father about what happened, you just told him that you and Jonathan have this fight, that’s why he caught you drowned in your own tears walking home from the party. You still didn’t talked to Jonathan, he tried giving you a reassuring smile, waving his hand here and there but that won’t help you being so broken to what happened. William was speaking to Maya, eyeing you everytime you walk past them then hear their laughs that you could probably punch their faces in that second. But you didn’t do that, you didn’t defend yourself to them or even ask them why did they do that to you. You didn’t even do anything to them in that night. Through the whole ceremony, you’re still feeling your heart breaks and tears pooling in your eyes. That night supposed to be memorable, since it’s the end of being in college but it just turned upside down. It became wicked to you.

After that graduation week, you worked part time at your father’s pub then down the bakery just blocks away from your street. You still sing to the people going in the pub, still enjoying the music you deliver. And now you have this goal set in your mind, that you have a dream already, is to become a professional musician. That’s why you still sing in the train station by sunset, waiting for the commuters to come and give their change to you, throwing it on your guitar case.

…

THREE MONTHS LATER - OCTOBER 26, 1971

“Hey Dad!,” Your sister Rosalie called from her room as she skipped her way towards the kitchen where you and your Dad are preparing for dinner. “My boyfriend is coming over, mind if you and Y/N…be on your best behavior?.”

“So I can finally meet this boyfriend of yours huh? I hope he’s not like the last one Rosalie.” Dad said while chopping the vegetables. You’re marinating the meat for you to pop it in the oven afterwards.

“Promise. Brian is just…the best Dad, I think he’s the one for me.” Rosalie said in her lovey-dovey tone of her voice.

“And Mom called earlier too,” You spoke, making both of them whip their heads at you, “Saying that she can’t come to dinner again. I miss talking to her while we eat dinner…”

“Oh dear,” Your Dad reassures, holding you in his arms, “She’ll make it up to you. Your mother is just too busy okay?.”

You bite down your lip as you nod your head at him. Rosalie just gave you a small smile before heading out to her room again, probably change her outfit for her boyfriend to show up later. You finished the meat as you put it on a tray then in the oven.

“Okay Dad it’s already sunset, I need to go to the train station. Promise I’ll be home by dinnertime.” You smiled at him, kissing his cheeks goodbye as you head out to the living room. Getting your guitar and putting on your thick jacket. You walk towards the station where you can see Ned who is the ticket holder, rummaging through his desk.

You knocked on his booth as he shot his head to you, giving you a smile, “Y/N! Just in time for your audience to come.”

“Right on it Ned.” You tip your imaginary hat to him before you took a seat to your usual spot, where this old crates laying in this corner as you brought out your guitar, opening the case for the people to put their change on it. You close your eyes as you think of a song, but everytime you think of something, your mind keeps coming back on the incident to that party. Seeing yourself crying and feeling that broken heart. And then suddenly that song you’ve been singing inside the closet before played in your mind as you began strumming your guitar. Opening your eyes, and sigh, singing the first verse.

Talkin’ to myself and feelin’ old Sometimes I’d like to quit Nothin’ ever seems to fit Hangin’ around Nothin’ to do but frown Rainy days and Mondays always get me down

The train is approaching. Hearing the faint hiss of smoke coming from that transportation vehicle. Still singing your heart out.

What I’ve got they used to call the blues Nothin’ is really wrong Feelin’ like I don’t belong Walkin’ around Some kind of lonely clown Rainy days and Mondays always get me down

Then the train stops in front of you, seeing the usual people you see, as they walk towards your direction, hearing you sing and smiling down on you. They put their money in your case before leaving this place, you feel your heart is getting a little better to see what you’ve been earning through music. This music is not just for the money of your dreams, it’s for your broken soul too.

Funny, but it seems I always wind up here with you Nice to know somebody loves me Funny, but it seems that it’s the only thing to do Run and find the one who loves me

You thought of Jonathan in the lyrics you just sang, because he’s just the only person that’s been there for you. All your life you shared with him, all the laughter, the sadness, the craziness that happened through your childhood, adolescence and your adult life. You feel sorry to him, because he did nothing wrong. And you just pushed him away, declining his love as your best friend. You thought of a plan in talking to him again, maybe tomorrow…or the next day. You cursed to yourself that you don’t even know what to say to him.

You suck in a breath as you continue singing, looking around if they are still people. And then you saw this man, stepping out of the train, who’s also holding his own guitar case and a shoulder bag. This is just the first time you ever see him go here, and then your eyes trailed over his brown curly hair reaching down his collarbones. He’s wearing this pinstripes suit and a white shirt inside, matching with a dark velvet flares and white kicks. You didn’t noticed yourself staring up at him while singing, because he have this perfect nose and jawline and everything. You just saw his hazel eyes, he looked…good.

You look away from him when he took strides forward but stopped when he saw you here, you looked up at him and gave him a small smile before he gave you the same also. He brought out a paper bill, not a change like people do, as he left the station. You ended your song, counting the money you earned. But you can’t forget that beautiful man offered such a huge amount for a street singer like you. So you still sang a few more songs until the station is empty. You put the money inside the aluminum can from your bag as you fix your guitar in the case again. Saying your goodbyes to Ned before leaving again. You reached your street, to suddenly see Jonathan sitting by himself in their front porch. You mentally debated if you’ll approach him or not, but you still did. Sucking up your inhibitions before walking to him, he noticed you walking towards him but he didn’t said a word, he just watch you put your guitar down and sat beside him.

“So? How are you?.” You firstly asked. He’s quiet today. “Jonathan?.”

“I’m not fine. They’ve been fighting non-stop of who will get me on their sides. My father wants me to come with him in Kensington, but my mother said that she and I will be moving in Brixton. But I don’t want to leave here, West Hampstead have been my home. And I don’t want to lose my friends here, especially you Y/N…” He teared up as he looks away from you, not going to see his waterworks.

This is how he means to much to you, so you tried not to cry as you pull your best friend in a hug, so tight that it can crush him. He chuckles in your gesture as he hugged you back. “It’s your choice if you leave or not. Your parents just wants to know what’s best for you.” You said.

“But I don’t want to leave here. I really don’t want to leave you…” He looks at you. You’re seeing those swollen eyes that are mildly deep, maybe he don’t sleep that easy with his parents fighting like that.

“Then tell them you don’t Jonathan. I don’t want you leave either. You’re my only best friend in my life and I don’t want to lose you too.” You said, seeing him look away again.

Then he faces you again, this time with the small smile you’ve been looking for from him, “I promise I won’t leave this place. For you and for me.” He said.

“I love you Jonathan…” You mumbled as you felt his lungs suck in a huge breath. He pulled you in his arms again and kissed your head.

“I love you too Y/N…”

After talking to Jonathan, you said your goodbyes and see him get inside his house again. You walk back to your house and entered, closing the door behind you. You removed your jacket and put your guitar down as you heard voices from the dining room already. And you heard this different voice that you assume it’s your sister’s boyfriend now. You fixed your hair in a ponytail before heading inside the dining room. Your eyes widened when you see your sister’s boyfriend before you.

“Y/N! You’re here now, c'mon have a seat.” Your Dad called you and pat the vacant chair beside him. Only across Rosalie and the man you are just gazing back in the train station. “Y/N, you have to meet–”

“You?.” Rosalie’s boyfriend spoke as you froze in your spot, looking in those hazel eyes again.

Rosalie furrowed her brows as she eyed you and him, “Have you met each other?.” She asked.

“No, I…uh–” You stammer.

“I saw her singing songs in the train station earlier. She’s good in playing the guitar and singing also. That’s why I gave her a huge tip.” He said. And there you tried to hide your blush in his compliment.

Rosalie chuckles, “Brian here is also a musician himself too. He’s in a band called Smile, and yeah…” She said.

“You’re in Smile?.” You asked him as he faces you again while eating the dinner. “I…love your song Doing Alright.”

Brian grinned at you, “You didn’t tell me your sister listens to us. And thank you, it’s a pleasure for you to like our music.” He said.

“I have no idea also,” Rosalie let out an uncomfortable chuckle. Yeah, you don’t know about that because you don’t care about me. Those words swims in your mind. “By the way, Dad…Brian is staying here for three days because they have a gig here.”

Fuck, now he still have to stay here.

“Sure of course Brian is welcome here! And you should also perform in my pub, if you’d like.” Your father asked him.

“Of course sir, I’ll call the band from home so that they will come up here. Maybe we can perform by tomorrow night?.” Brian said and your father nod his head.

“Sure do son.” He smiles and put his arms on your shoulder. You slowly eat your dinner, never getting your eyes on your sister and him being so in love. Lucky her, she got this man who is a musician and who is in the band you slightly admire. And now all you have to do is sit and stare at him and her.

…

You look over to your clock to see it’s already 11PM while you’re still here writing down your journal for some lyrics in your mind. You start to wonder why your father just invited his band, and that threatens your light in that stage in your father’s pub. All of the people there loves you performing and singing your heart out but now this band is going to steak your limelight by tomorrow night. You felt like you’re not important anymore and you lie down your bed, staring at the ceiling. You’re just important in your mother’s life and in Jonathan’s life. You don’t care about Rosalie and her little boyfriend right now–even though you have a little crush on Brian in the first place–you still don’t care.

You jump in shock when you suddenly heard faint moans and bed creaks from the wall where your headboard is. Knowing that it’s coming from your sister’s room. She knows the walls are fucking thin between your rooms and she doesn’t even care that you’re here, trying to finish your own song or would be sleeping now. You groaned in annoyance as the sound became faster, probably changing their positions. Good thing that your father’s room is in the end of the hallway that’s why he can’t hear anything, only you is the victim.

You closed your journal, throwing it on the edge of your bed and get under the covers, then used your pillow to cover your ears. But it won’t budge, as you still heard their noises. You’re this close in barging inside and be the cockblock to your sister and him, but that would be rude and Rosalie would kill you. So, you walk towards your record player as you played a song, a Hendrix song where you can only hear playing his guitar and his voice on this record. Their noises died down, maybe they are finished. But you still didn’t stop your music.

Purple haze, all in my brain Lately things they don’t seem the same Actin’ funny, but I don’t know why Excuse me while I kiss the sky

Your bang your head in the air, feeling the music and the rhythm of it’s beat. Your slumber faded away as you still write your own song while listening to some other music until it’s already in the middle of the night.

Rosalie and Brian on the other hand just finished their business, she was already sleeping in his arms and he suddenly heard the Hendrix song from next door, hearing from your room. He was lip syncing the lyrics, and also hearing you sing loudly in this late hour. He slowly let go of Rosalie in his arms as he change up, he left the room quietly and sighed deeply. Brian never felt this feeling of a home ever since he left his home and start living with himself. Rosalie was lucky that she’s still with her family. He went downstairs to the kitchen to get a glass of water as he leans against the kitchen counter and then he saw this framed picture on the wall where he see Jimi Hendrix beside a girl. Brian was astonished in this polaroid picture, reading on the handwritten text on the bottom.

Me (Y/N) & My number one inspiration, Hendrix. 1967.

And Brian look over Jimi Hendrix’s signature over the picture. Rosalie’s sister is so young in this picture, so young and lucky to meet her idol that is also his inspiration.

“Admiring the photo?.”

Brian quickly look on his left to see you standing by the doorway, leaning there as you look at him looking at your photograph, “Oh bloody hell…” Brian cursed.

“So? You like Hendrix too?.” You asked, going towards the fridge to get a glass of milk. Brian gulped a bit when he saw a small view of your knickers under that oversized shirt as you bend down from the fridge, Brian shaking his head to get that image away from his head.

“I…uh, yeah. I do.” Brian stammers, scratching the back of his neck. You stood beside you and stare at the picture too. You remember this concert where you and your mother went, and after that performance, you just found the Jimi Hendrix backstage–because your mom’s friend is working as the staff there that’s why you can go backstage–and took this photo with him. You remember being in cloud nine when he signs the photo afterwards and gave you his guitar pick. That was the happiest day of your life.

“I was seventeen at that time, living my best life as a teenager. Not thinking of hard things for my family. Everything is just…good.” You said and move away from him.

Brian was silent beside you, he’s just so speechless. “Hard things…you say?.” He asked you.

“Yeah, sometimes my father would be so down to himself in running the pub business. So I helped him with that, I come up with the idea of bringing real music in that place. We set up a stage there and borrowed some old instruments from our friends and…that’s where the pub became big in that street.” You said, feeling uplifted reminiscent. You want to say that his girlfriend, your hell of a sister Rosalie didn’t think of a single solution for the pub, ever in her life. She’s just going out, meeting friends, be consumed with alcohol through the night. She’s nothing of an older sister to you. But you thought that it’s just to rude to say to her own boyfriend here.

“I’m glad you’ve got to help your father. He’s really a good man, never expecting that he’s just too kind.” Brian chuckles as you smiled, nodding at him.

This is just weird because you’re having a heart to heart conversation with your sister’s boyfriend while it’s already midnight.

“I saw you with a guitar earlier. May I see it?.” You asked out of the blue. Brian put up a smile as he went to the living room, following him to see his guitar case by the couch. He sat down and held the guitar, letting it out to see a beauty before your eyes. You haven’t seen a guitar looking like that. The red color is just…perfect. You sat across him, admiring the looks of his guitar.

“Your guitar is…beautiful.” You whispered.

“Me and my father made it together,” Brian spoke as you surprisingly looked at him. “This guitar is just made from scraps because buying a new guitar is too expensive. So that’s why we made one.”

You grinned, “That’s amazing.”

“It is, as much as you and your father building a stage to perform on too.” He said, never stop smiling at you. He’s just so glad that he found someone like you to talk about music unlike Rosalie. So he guess this is the start of friendship with you.

“I didn’t…introduced myself properly to you earlier,” You rambled and stretch out your hand, “Hi I’m Y/N Y/L/N. Rosalie’s sister.”

Then Brian shake hands with you, “I’m Brian May.” He smiles.

And now, you both didn’t knew this will be the start of something new to you and Brian.

______________________

*TAGLIST:

@luvborhap @ziggymay @lilytalebi

IF YOU WANT TO BE IN THE TAGLIST LET ME KNOW :)

#brian may #brian may imagines #brian may x reader #brian may x you #brian may x oc #queen band #queen imagines #queen fic #queen fanfiction #queenrogah's fic

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let-it-raines · 6 years ago

Text

Betting on the Bullseye (Part 2)

Summary: Emma Swan loses a bet that means she has to ask her celebrity crush to be her date to her office's annual fundraising gala. Killian Jones is that celebrity crush. She expects all kinds of humiliation and for her dignity to be completely lost. What she doesn't expect is for him to say yes.

Rating: Mature:

A/N: Hey, hey, hey! This is back with more words, very few of which are Christmas-related like the original. We’re slowing down a bit - but still going pretty fast in my feeble attempt to keep this in five (it was four lol) parts - moving into a bit more realism (if you can call it that), and seeing what happens after that video bet date. Double line break means change in POV.

Entire story found on ao3: beginning | current

Tumblr: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Tag list: @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @kmomof4 @wellhellotragic @ekr032-blog-blog @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @captswanis4vr @teamhook @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @branlovesouat @dreadpirateemma

Killian flies back to Los Angeles before noon, but he leaves her apartment at a little past nine, his dress shirt ruffled almost as much as his hair, the black strands sticking up in a million directions.

It’s, well, it’s awkward.

Really, really awkward.

After texting Ruby back, promising to call her later to give all of the details – or really to take away from all of the details that Ruby has most likely crafted in that mind of hers – she gently shook Killian awake, shaking him until his eyelids fluttered open to reveal tired blue eyes that blew wide when he saw her. For a moment, she thought he was shocked, like he had no idea where he was, and maybe he didn’t. If she woke up in a strange place with someone she barely knew – okay, so maybe she has a little experience in that area – she’d likely scream or get the hell out of there. But Killian had simply rubbed his eyes before mumbling a g’morning, love to her.

He hadn’t had much time to talk, none really, jumping around her messy shack of an apartment putting his shoes on and using her mouthwash as an impromptu replacement for a toothbrush while she made him a cup of coffee. She’d meant to tell him about the photos Ruby had sent her, the ones that had caused her heart to race for more reasons than one, but they slipped her mind as he practically ran out the door with a smile and the smallest of waves accompanied by words she barely remembers.

And with her favorite travel mug.

It had swans on it.

A heavy weight settled in her stomach, something entirely unfamiliar, and all she could think about was how stupid she was. What the hell was she doing kissing Killian Jones? A man who lives across the country from her, a man who she barely knows and will never see again, and a man who has a face that the world recognizes. There are damn pictures of them. And maybe the video of her asking him out on a date won’t haunt her forever, but paparazzi pictures of them kissing sure as hell will.

Killian’s a good guy. She knows this. Something in her gut tells her that he wasn’t acting last night, so there’s no way he simply kissed her out of obligation or to tease her, right? He had to mean it. There had to be…feelings involved.

Maybe it was just a one-time (or two-time) thing.

After all, how can you really have feelings for someone after one night?

You can’t, or maybe you can, but she shouldn’t feel like an anchor has rooted itself in her stomach.

In all honesty, she feels a bit used, which is ridiculous. If anything, she used Killian. Well, no. She didn’t use him. She lost a bet and asked him to be her date. But then she used that date and his high profile to help raise money for charity. So she used him for charity? Does that even count? Does any of this count?

Fuck, she has no idea what’s going on or how to feel. Confusion is pretty much all she understands right now…and she barely understands that.

Killian Jones isn’t exactly high on her list right now when he’d been at the very top less than ten hours ago.

She doesn’t even have a way to contact him besides his agent’s number. Would he even want that? Would she even want that? Was it just that one-time thing that she tricked herself into thinking otherwise? Does he go around kissing all of the girls he goes on video bet dates with? God, even in her head that sounds absolutely ridiculous.

Sighing, she tries to forget about it, stripping out of her jumpsuit and hopping into the shower, letting the hot water wash over her, her mascara dripping down her face and her foundation smearing as she wipes it on the towel, having foolishly grabbed a white one instead of the dark blue ones where the stains are easier to hide or wash away. It looks like a clown fell into the towel, and that alone causes her to giggle, her body lightening the slightest bit. She’s being overdramatic and frankly a bit ridiculous, and even though it nags at her for the rest of her shower, it’s nagging from somewhere in the back.

It was a date that’s not going to have a follow-up. She’s had more of those than she can count, and even if this date was a business deal and with Killian Jones, he’s still just a guy. She wouldn’t get this worked up for anyone else. She hasn’t in a long time, and she doesn’t plan on it happening anytime soon.

Emma goes about her day as normal, puttering around the apartment cleaning and completely and totally ignoring her phone even as it occasionally vibrates from its perch on the kitchen counter.

It’s a little past eight in the evening when she caves in her goal of not looking at her phone, and it’s really only because she’s on her second glass of wine. Nevertheless, she settles on a barstool, one hand holding her wine, the liquid sloshing around, and the other thumbing through her phone.

There are a few texts from Ruby, most of them more details from Ruby’s night outside of the time she spent with she and Killian – apparently, she met a super nice girl at the gala and has a date with her Friday night. The other notifications are mostly from her boss, emails and financial details about how successful they were last night. She responds to those first, making sure that everything she types is as professional as possible, before going through the rest of her phone. She has a few missed calls, numbers that look like scam or telemarketers, and she quickly deletes those. After all of those little red notifications go away, she moves to the couch, flopping down and holding her phone above her chest as she scrolls through Instagram.

Everything’s normal, just her usual friends and people she met, like, once in college that somehow found her and decided she was worth a follow so she followed them back, until she gets to a picture of a coffee mug…with swans on it…sitting on the tray table of an airplane seat along with a stack of papers with a blacked-out title that looks like some kind of thick script.

KillianJonesOfficial: Boston > L.A. with a souvenir not sold in stores and a little light reading over a secret project I can’t wait to share with you guys!

She can’t help the smile that blooms on her face, her body doing a little dance even though she’s still a little pissed that he stole her mug and at the whole way that he kind of ditched her this morning. But her alcohol tolerance is lower than it used to be, and her glasses of wine were a little bit on the larger side. She likes the photo, scrolling down and commenting even though she knows that he won’t see it.

Yeah, so she’s definitely a lightweight and the tiniest bit inebriated.

Emma710Swan: Hey thief, I want my mug back. It’s apparently not sold in stores, so I don’t know what I’m going to do to get another one.

She doesn’t think anything of her comment until she wakes up the next morning with so many notifications on her home screen that her phone doesn’t even show them all. They’re all from Instagram, and when she logs on, she sees that she has hundreds of replies to her comment on Killian’s post as well as thousands of follower requests. She doesn’t…she doesn’t know what to do with all of this information, especially when she accidentally clicks on the popular page and sees all of those paparazzi photos of she and Killian plastered across her screen. She knew they existed, wasn’t really thatbothered by it, but suddenly she’s facing the reality of this whole thing.

Her life is public knowledge now, pictures of her kissing someone far too famous for anyone’s well-being all across the internet. She can’t stop looking, continuously scrolling and seeing more pictures from the gala everywhere, different filters and captions and all things she wasn’t prepared to see.

“Oh God,” she mumbles when a few hateful messages pop up. She can’t look at those, no matter how much she wants to, and she throws her phone across the bed, letting it bounce on the mattress until it falls to the floor. “This is so, so not good.”

Her office phone rings, the shrill sound something she’s tired of hearing over the past few days as it’s been going off non-stop. She’s had to become a hermit in her own life, something she never thought would happen after simply kissing a guy. Okay, so she’s boarded herself away after going on dates before, but that’s because she’s either been heartbroken or too pissed off to want to do anything. But this was one date, a thing that was really more of a business arrangement that happened to end up with her actually having a good time, and it’s wreaking more havoc on her life than any of the heartbreaks in her past.

Well, Neal was pretty fucked up, but she tries to push that to the back of her mind, somewhere under piles of much better things that didn’t break her so damn much.

She hasn’t even heard from Killian again, and maybe that’s what’s making her feel so bitter still. Was it all some kind of game to him? Why the hell does she still care? She needs to get over it.

“What?” she groans into the phone, her tone so harsh that she cringes knowing it’s probably her boss calling with the luck that she has.

“Swan?”

Oh.

That’s not her boss. That’s Killian.

Fuck.

All she’s wanted was for him to call, and now it’s taking every ounce of strength in her body not to hang up on him. Maybe it’s curiosity that keeps her from hanging up, or maybe it’s a bit of hope that she hasn’t been going crazy the past few days for nothing.

“What do you want, Killian?”

“Love, I’ve been trying to call you for days, but you haven’t answered your cell phone. Or your office phone.”

“But what do you want?” she hisses, propping her phone between her cheek and her shoulders as she crosses her arms over her chest. Logically, she knows that some of this mania is her fault. She kissed him back, she invited him into the apartment, and she commented on his Instagram. But she also didn’t know that there would paparazzi stalking outside of her apartment (because wow, super creepy and invasive on so many levels) or that commenting on his Instagram would cause such mania. She didn’t even realize that anyone would see it or that it’d create such a frenzy. How the hell can a couple of pictures and an Instagram comment make her life this insane? How do people live like this?

Killian didn’t know those things either, though. His only fault has really been the way he left things between them…and he’s apparently tried to call. Damn. She has no idea what to do or how to deal with any of these things. Listening to Killian would probably be a good start.

“Well, I wanted to talk about the pictures of us, and then all of the media abuse you’ve likely been facing if what I’ve heard is correct or if my Instagram is any indication. And I also just wanted to talk to you. I had a good time on Saturday, love, and my poor goodbye on Sunday beside, I was hoping maybe I could continue to get to know you.”

Oh fuck. Oh damn. Oh hell. She can’t think of a single word that’s not “oh” or a curse that she encourages the kids at the shelter not to use.

“Killian, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Did you…do you not feel the same?”

He sounds so broken, his accent going more high pitched and cracking on words that it shouldn’t. She doesn’t know what she wants or how she feels.

“No, I did. I do. It’s just,” she sighs, running her hands through her hair and completely ruining her braid, “I’m a nobody. And I don’t mean that in a bad way or a self-pitying way. But I’m someone who can go to the grocery store and buy a tub of ice cream, and no one knows about it but me and the guy assisting with self-checkout. I live in a shitty apartment because I like it that way, and when I go out with my friends, no one notices. After one night with you, though, there are pictures of me online, people outside of my apartment, death threats online, and people calling into the office who have no interest in actually working with the shelter.”

He’s silent on the other line for a moment too long, making her think that she’s lost him until he shudders. “Shit, love. I’m sorry. I knew it was bad, but I was hoping you hadn’t actually experienced everything that I feared.”

“Well, I have. And your less than spectacular exit on Sunday hasn’t exactly made me feel great. It honestly made me feel kind of cheap. Killian, Saturday night was fun, something that I didn’t expect after, you know, only asking you out on a super embarrassing bet. I thought it’d be like a business arrangement, but then we ended up having a good time. I don’t know if you were acting or – ”

“I wasn’t acting.”

“Or what,” she continues, trying to talk through his words and calm the erratic beating of her heart, “but I’m just not sure that I can allow my life to be in upheaval over some guy I barely know. I’ve been through that enough.”

“I get that, Swan, and if you don’t want to give me a chance, I’ll move on and leave you be. But I’d at least like to get to know you.”

“How would that even work? You live across the country. I’m busy. You’re busy.”

“Phone, texts, facetime. You get to know me as a friend from far away, and then if you decide you’d like to see me again, I’m on a plane. If not, well, then we never have to see each other again. And I’ll make a statement to try to clear up some of this mess, okay? Just give me a shot?”

She doesn’t know why, but she gives him her personal number and says yes.

Her day continues to be absolutely insane, the phone calls never stopping and all of her coworkers but Ruby giving judgmental, disdainful looks. She’s putting everyone through hell with the calls they’re getting, and it’s like every thankful hug and word she got on Saturday for helping to bring in the money they’ll be using to help fund their Christmas has been taken back. The only real solace she has is Ruby, who goes out and buys her a cheeseburger and fries for lunch so that she doesn’t have to leave the office. It’s like she’s back in middle school. She’s twenty-eight years old and living in middle school.

“They’re just frustrated, Ems,” Ruby consoles, swiping her own fries in a strawberry milkshake that it’s far too cold to be drinking, “and maybe a little jealous. I mean, come on. You kissed Killian Jones Saturday night, and Kathryn’s boyfriend got drunk and threw up.”

“It was just a kiss.”

“Okay sure, honey. Whatever you tell yourself.”

She takes a bite of her cheeseburger, letting her junk food help her deal with everything. “He called me today. Said he wants to get to know me more.”

“Shit. What’d you say?”

“I mean, I complained about the last few days because I feel like I’m in a fishbowl, but,” she shrugs her shoulders and grimaces, “I said yes. I’m crazy, and I said yes.”

“So what you’re telling me is that you’re dating Killian Jones.”

“I’m getting to know Killian Jones. And it’s a secret.”

Just then Ruby’s phone chimes, and she smirks before her brows furrow together and her fingers scroll down the screen. “Your secret lover boy is talking about you on Instagram.”

“What?” She practically jumps around her desk, leaving her food and sticking her hands out until she gets Ruby’s phone. Sure enough, there’s a photo of the two of them from the gala, laughing at their table at dinner.

KillianJonesOfficial: Hi, friends! I don’t usually like to get serious on here, especially when it comes to something that should have been lighthearted. Emma Swan asked me out on a date through a video, and I agreed because I wanted to support Boston Children’s Shelter. Miss Swan and I had a wonderful time supporting several charities, and the end of our night was documented by photographers. I won’t deny any of that or what the pictures show, but Miss Swan and I are simply friends. If you all could be so kind, I’d appreciate it if everyone stopped invading her private life and her work life. She didn’t ask for her life to be invaded, and I think we would all be better served spending our time doing things that matter. It’s still early in the holiday season, and there’s much giving to be done! Thank you!

“Well, damn,” Ruby whistles, causing Emma to look up from the phone, her cheeks so hot that if someone touched them, she’s sure they could burn flesh, “you’ve got it bad.”

“Ruby.”

“I know, I know. Emma Swan doesn’t fall for a man in one night. She’s got walls and is guarded and all that jazz, but girl, if the smile on your face says anything, you’ve got it bad.”

Emma Swan: Okay, what question am I on?

Emma Swan: And this doesn’t count as a question, bud.

He laughs before scrolling through his phone, trying to find her question number, but they haven’t really been following the rules of twenty questions anyways. They’ve each got to be on at least seventy now with follow up questions. It’s been going on like this for nearly three weeks. They send texts back and forth, the occasional call when he’s on a break from filming reshoots of his last movie and doesn’t have time to be texting, but it’s mostly them getting to know each other in the simplest of ways. It had been awkward when he’d first texted her, the conversations stilted like they had been when he picked her up at her apartment, and he’d foolishly suggested they play twenty questions.

He’s thirty-two years old, and he’s playing twenty questions with the girl he likes.

Killian Jones: I don’t think it matters, but I think you’re technically on questions seventeen, love.

Emma Swan: What size t-shirt do you wear?

He snorts, laughter rumbling through his stomach, before rolls over on the couch, propping his chin up on Liam’s throw pillow…okay, so it’s Elsa’s throw pillow. He’s absolutely positive that Liam didn’t pick this out.

Killian Jones: Large. Why do you ask?

Killian Jones: And that doesn’t count as a question.

Emma Swan: Because I’m sending you a late Christmas gift that I just found while shopping.

Killian Jones: You’re shopping on Christmas Eve?

Killian Jones: Are you mad, Swan?

Emma Swan: Not crazy. Just been a little distracted lately and needed one more present for Leo.

“Oi, little brother, get off your phone and come help in the kitchen.”

“I’m a guest, Liam. You and Elsa are supposed to do all of the cooking. And it’s younger brother.”

“Okay, then come play with your nephew then. Who are you talking to anyways?”

“No one,” he answers a little too quickly, and Liam catches onto it almost immediately, his eyebrows moving across his forehead while his lips tick up on one side.

“Do you have a girl, Killian?” Liam prods, standing over the couch and staring down at Killian. “Are you talking to a girl?”

“I’m talking to a friend who happens to be a girl. But not a girlfriend.”

“But you like her.”

“She’s a friend, and don’t you dare tell Elsa. She’ll get those big sentimental eyes, and then she’ll ask for details.”

“So there are details to be asked about then?”

“So you needed help in the kitchen then?” He gets up from the couch, stuffing his phone in his back pocket and sauntering into the kitchen, completely ignoring the way Liam is smirking behind him and heading straight to grab Aiden out of his highchair, tickling his stomach and asking Elsa what they’re having for Christmas Eve dinner.

He doesn’t check his phone for the next few hours, spending time with his family, the volume in the house only increasing when Elsa’s sister Anna and her husband Kris show up. It’s only the six of them, but it’s the loudest, most full Christmas Eve they’ve ever had. He’s only had Liam since their mum died when he was ten, and as much as he loves their Christmases together, he’s thrilled that their family is growing, even if it’s by no help of his own.

His nephew is the light of his life, though, the little eight-month old his best bud even if all he really does his giggle and smile at him with his little gummy smile, and he most definitely did all of his Christmas shopping for him ahead of time, unlike a certain woman did for her friend’s kid.

When he crawls into bed that night, Liam’s guest room a little too quiet without the box fan he usually sleeps with at home, and so knowing he can’t sleep, he pulls out his phone only to see several messages from Emma. The last one is dated just a few minutes ago, and even though it’s one in the morning in Boston, he takes a chance and presses the call button next to her name.

“Hello,” she mumbles before yawning, and he can’t help but smile. “Killian?”

“Aye. Did I wake you, love?”

“No, no. I was just getting in bed after finishing wrapping the rest of the presents. What are you doing?”

“The same thing.”

“Wrapping presents?”

“No, getting in bed.”

“Scandalous, Jones.”

“You know it, love.”

They end up talking for the next two hours, filling each other in on their Christmas Eve celebrations until Emma really does start yawning more than she actually speaks, the time catching up with her more than it does with him.

“Swan?”

“Mhm?”

“You should sleep. Goodnight, love. And Merry Christmas.”

“I can stay awake.”

“Emma,” he prods, curling up into bed himself and pulling the comforter further over his body. “Go to bed.”

“Okay,” she yawns, her voice gradually getting quieter, and he can hear her comforter rustling too. “Merry Christmas, Killian.”

Filming on the television show he’s decided to pick up begins at the end of January. It’s a mini series, so he’s only contractually obligated to it for fifteen weeks instead of up to ten years. It’s a historical drama, one where he gets to play a hero with a tainted past who battles his demons while also battling with his adversaries. It’s been in the works for years, and as he gets fitted for his costumes, a sense of giddy anticipation fills him, even as he’s basically fitted into a corset and leather pants. Well, that’s only for one episode. The rest of the time he’s in linens and suits of men in the 1800s.

The only downside to it is that as the weeks have passed, he’s grown closer to Emma, their texts still frequent, but their calls even more so. It doesn’t necessarily sound like a downside, but to him, that’s how he feels. He just hasn’t seen her more than in pictures and one or two video chats. He’s known her for two months now, not long in the grand scheme of things, but they’ve talked nearly every day. Their twenty questions game has long since stopped, the words flowing more naturally as they simply chat about their days or whatever is on their minds. She’s gotten into sending him memes and videos she finds online, and he’s taken the time to find things to send her as well.

Through every little conversation they have, he learns a bit more about it. For awhile, he thought that they could be friends, that he could live just talking to her like this if that’s what she ends up wanting, but he likes her. He likes her, and he has no idea how she feels about him. Yeah, they kissed, and sometimes he finds himself touching his lips at the memory of that kiss, but that was just after one night. What if she doesn’t feel the same way now? He knows that they’re friends, but what if she never decides that she wants to see him again? What if it stays as some kind of virtual relationship?

If that’s what she wants, he won’t try to force her into something else. Whatever they become, it’s up to her as much as him.

He just doesn’t know what the hell she wants, and all he wants is to see her, to hear her laugh in person and possibly even give her a hug. He’s not even aiming for a kiss at this point. How can he miss someone he’s only met once?

Once his fitting is finished, he changes back into jeans and a flannel shirt for rehearsals, shooting for the first episode not really beginning until tomorrow after they get through this final day of practice.

It’s the end of February, the first half of the series is nearly finished, when he gets a call from Emma. They haven’t really been able to talk the past few days, the time difference and his work hours causing them to only exchange a few texts, so when her name and a picture from the gala pop up on his screen, he nearly breaks his phone, catching it in the air before it hits the marble of his kitchen counter.

“Hi, Swan” he breathes, his lips twitching upward.

He’s got to look like an idiot smiling to himself, but he lives alone. No one will ever know. Well, Liam and his damn older brother tendencies might now. He’s been on him like a hawk ever since Christmas Eve, especially because Killian refuses to tell him anything. His brother is nosy, but it’s only because he cares. Killian’s been hurt enough by women, not to mention how much he resents his father for leaving them and their sick mother, and Liam’s taken it up on himself to be his protector. He means well, but after Milah and how broken he’d been, Liam’s taken it to the next level. He knows that women will take advantage of him for his fame in the same way that people who try to be his friend will. It’s why he’s been single for awhile, and he keeps his mates to Liam, Robin, and Will, people he’s known and trusted for years.

But he knows that Emma is different. She’s obviously a fan, something he somehow forgets about most of the time, and while he’s never considered dating a fan before, he would with Emma.

He also knows that Liam would be up his arse about it.

The fact that Liam never mentioned the photos of he and Emma outside of her front door is a bloody miracle. Liam either never saw them or chose not to talk about it. God does he hope it was the first one.

“Um, hi. Why do you sound out of breath?”

“Because you take my breath away, love.”

“Oh wow, I can’t tell if that was good or bad.”

“It was good, darling.” He walks from his kitchen to his living room, settling down into his favorite recliner and stretching out. “How are you?”

“Oh, I’m fine. I’m on my way home from the gym. Did you not have filming today?”

“Day off, and I haven’t changed out of my pajamas. It’s bloody wonderful.”

“Lazy ass.”

“Smart arse.”

“Anyways,” she continues, several horns beeping behind her. He checks his watch and realizes that it’s eight in the evening in Boston. She must have had a late day at work. “I’m calling because I have some news.”

His heart rate picks up, and something lodges in his chest. She sounds happy, but he doesn’t know what her news could be. All he can think is that she’s begun dating someone, which she has every right to, but it would break his heart a little bit.

“What news?”

“So apparently, I haven’t taken enough vacations days, and I’ll lose them if I don’t use them by the end of the quarter, which is the end of March. So I was thinking, if it’s okay with you, that I might finally take you up on that offer of us seeing each other again. I know you said you’d be the one hopping on a plane, but I’d kind of like to see California.”

It's…this is…damn. This is everything he’s wanted for the past few months, and he can’t believe it’s happening. He’s going to see Emma, and it’s not going to be through a video screen.

“Swan, I’d be thrilled. You can stay with me. I mean, if you’re okay with that. You don’t have to stay with me if you’d rather stay somewhere else. And I can show you around all of the good places or the tourist traps. It doesn’t matter. Oh fuck.”

“What?”

“I’m filming all through March.”

“I know,” she sighs before cursing out someone under her breath, “but maybe we could hang out between filming. I don’t want to impose, so it’s fine if this is a bad time. I’ll just lounge around my apartment for a week if it is. It’ll be great. Just an entire week of laziness.”

“Emma, no,” he practically begs, hoping that she can’t hear his heart beating through the telephone and the miles between them. “Tell me the dates, and you can come. We’ll make it work.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely.”

#betting on the bullseye #cs fic #cs ff #how is a christmas one shot not a christmas one shot anymore

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cards-onthetable · 6 years ago

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Okay but what in the actual fuck...?

I just watched 9x03 and I have a lot of Thoughts. Spoilers ahead I guess.

For the Minor (read: non-Jamko) Issues that I hated... let’s just get these out of the way:

Wtf @ Erin in this whole episode. Misunderstandings/communication failures with coworkers happen all the time. But she was so unnecessarily bitchy to Anthony. And then she blamed him for making her look like an asshole in front of everyone else. Nope, that’s your own fault, gtfo. And don’t even with their ~sweet reconciliation~ with booze at the end. That doesn’t excuse Erin for acting like a terrible person.

Wtf @ Frank/Garrett’s whole storyline. Garrett acts like some butthurt 7th grader who didn’t get invited to the cool kid’s sleepover birthday party. “I may not be a cop but I’m still important!” Ugh. Quit the whining. And also what was even the point of this story existing? Cool @ the secret bunker but centering the story on Garrett’s Feelings was dumb.

....I actually liked Danny/Baez’s story for once. You know it’s bad when I just want the next Danny scene to curtail my misery.

OKAY BUT THE REASON WE’RE ALL HERE: Wtf @ Jamko. I hate everything. Let me elaborate:

Jamie seems so indifferent to Eddie when she brings him lunch. I could almost excuse that in the name of Looking Tough as the boss at a new shitshow precinct. But then Eddie sits down like she’s going to hang out and chat and he actually sighs and rolls his eyes like she’s this big imposition. Eddie, sis, you deserve so much better than this clown.

He also tells her during that scene that the 2-9 is “much busier than the 12th” with a gross undertone of “...so can you go so I can get back to work?” Ugh. Fine @ being professional at work but... really? Act like you like her a little.

Can Eddie give Jamie a compliment other than “you look good in stripes” every episode for the rest of our lives? I mean look at that jawline.

I’ve had Feelings about Eddie’s wardrobe this entire season so far, and that continues here. Why does she look all dressed up to bring Jamie lunch at the precinct? Dresses at Sunday dinner are one thing, but normal, Off Duty Eddie would be in a t-shirt and jeans, not all fancy like here (and in that bar scene with the yellow dress). It’s some kind of intentional Choice, I think, to make her softer and more ~feminine~ as if that’ll win over the Eddie Haters who are probably pissed about their engagement. IT’S OKAY HATERS I AM TOO. LET’S BE FRIENDS.

Though I also think there are new wardrobe people all around. Like what’s with Jamie’s clothes this season? I can’t handle these chinos and iced macchiato colored Pumas. Bring back the dorky dad New Balances and dark jeans.

Sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself. Anyway.

This diner scene. I had mixed feelings.

Pros: Jamie looks hot af. Eddie has a 10/10 ponytail. Apparently Jamie is putting off sleeping post-night shift to eat with her, which let me tell you as a night shift nurse, this is a Big Deal. So maybe he does actually like her or something.

Cons: it makes me sad that Eddie is less than up front with Jamie. Like you’re going to marry this guy but you don’t want to tell him some info that’s honestly probably not new to him? Odd. Also why does Eddie say she’s “dating” Jamie? That was weird. Him correcting her was kinda cute and their conversation was less forced in that scene than it has been this season but still, really?

Also wtf @ this weird hand holding situation? Jamie looks like the Claw in one of those stuffed animal vending machines at the bowling alley.

OH SIDENOTE: Somewhere In here, Anthony calls Erin “sweetheart” in this gross demeaning tone and it was gross. Moving on.

OH COOL WE’RE... mini golfing? Okay this might be cute?

WAIT JAMIE FUCKING PROPOSED AT THE MINI GOLF PLACE? Oh my god kill me now.

Who..... who thought that was a good idea?

It’s like the writers are trying to throw fans a bone since they know everyone wants to know more about how he proposed. But it comes off as ridiculous satire and/or them almost making fun of the fans. I look forward to reading all the coming fics of this Putt Putt Proposal™️ and making fun of everything 5ever.

Also LOL @ the idea of Jamie and Eddie at this mini golf place on a Sunday morning before family dinner. Who the fuck goes mini golfing (...and proposes there) on Sunday morning?

OH NOW WE CAN TALK ABOUT THESE SHOES:

Okay and the pants also showcase Jamie’s Assets nicely. That’s a trend in recent episodes I can be on board with. So maybe I shouldn’t complain. But also bring back his jeans plz. Like what are we, on vacation at the country club?

What’s with Jamie grabbing Eddie’s wrist all the time? But also 👀 @ his grip here like can we see this in another context next week? 🌶

WHAT IS GOING ON? Does... does Eddie just carry a copy of their ~vows~ around in her purse? Or did she just jot those down real quick as they’re chatting? Either way, wtf?

It’s a little sweet, I guess, that Eddie wants to transfer to the precinct where everyone hates Jamie to be a friendly face/change everyone’s minds about their new boss. But I am seriously sick of this will-they-won’t-they back and forth as far as working together. The will-they-won’t-they was more fun when it was will they or won’t they fuck.

And them working together is a terrible idea anyway. Would it even be allowed for an officer’s fiancé to be her direct superior at work? That seems even more professionally compromising than an engaged couple riding together. Cool I hate it.

Do all married/soon-to-be married couples settle disagreements by just... reciting their vows? What is this, a recap of the S8 finale? WHY?

Oh hey they’re kissing. Oh that’s nice. But why are we looking up from underneath their chins?

OH LOOK EDDIE’S AT THE 2-9 making major Heart Eyes at her sergeant/fiancé. So I guess this settles the last 3 episodes of uncertainty as far as their Work Future. COOL I HATE IT.

That dinner scene was... something.

I’m surprised the Reagans were so fine with Eddie and Jamie’s little practical joke centering on grace. The show could’ve accomplished a similar result without turning the prayer into a joke. And I don’t think fucking up the prayer is going to endear Eddie to any Haters. So that was an interesting choice.

I’m also tired of this drawn out Transition of Eddie fitting in at family dinners. When I imagined Eddie integrating into the Reagan family I saw maybe one awkward, best-behavior instance and then fast forward to next week and she’s going at it with Danny and Erin, requiring Frank to intervene and remind everyone of dinner table decorum.

But I guess playing tricks on the fam means she’s One Of Them now?

Here’s my official vote for a Normal family dinner next week, which just happens to include Eddie in a seamless way, as if she’s always been there. No more Big Events at dinner.

In conclusion, why do I watch this show?

There was one Redeeming Factor — the cop at the 2-9 at the beginning who says “Is that a stick up your butt or are you just happy to see me?” Jamie wishes he had something up his butt. @ontherockswithsalt I hope you’re on that. I need Something To Believe In.

#blue bloods #jamie x eddie #jamko #sandy hates it all

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starspatter · 6 years ago

Text

Heroes and Thieves, Ch. 6

Title: Heroes and Thieves Fandom/Universe: BTAS, pre/post-RotJ flashback

Summary: A story about second chances, healing, and having hope.

Rating: PG-13, for references to character death, child psychological torture and trauma.

Genre: Romance/Family/Friendship/Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 3,791 Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Also on ff.net and AO3. In which Dick is surprisingly racist towards clones.

Two birds on a wire One says "come on" and the other says "I'm tired" The sky is overcast and I'm sorry One more or one less Nobody's worried

-Regina Spektor, "Two Birds"

Then.

Once their guest had left, Tim turned to Dick with a wounded air.

“How about giving me some warning next time before someone shows up, huh? A little heads-up would’ve been nice.”

Dick’s smile didn’t falter.

“What, did she catch you doing something embarrassing?”

Tim skewered him a look of disgust.

“Do you have to make everything sound dirty?”

“Sorry, sorry. …I’m surprised you’re still doing ‘that’ after all these years though.”

Tim shrugged with a heavy sigh. “Was just testing to see if I still could, I guess. I messed up on the landing anyway.”

“You probably just need to work on your form some more. It has been a while since I last saw you brush up on any techniques, they’re bound to get a bit rusty. If you want, I can still coach you…”

Tim’s lips tightened.

“Forget it. It’s not worth it.”

“Are you sure? That girl seemed pretty impressed by it. She’s the one you were talking about earlier, right?” Dick nodded in sage observation. “She’s cute; nice face, decent rack- ow!” He rubbed his arm as it was abruptly met with an annoyed punch. “Hey, it was a compliment.”

“…Didn’t sound like one.”

“Would you prefer I said she has a mighty fine ass?” He waggled his brows and grinned provocatively, despite wincing from the pain. Kid could still hit pretty hard when he wanted to. “Not as fine as mine though.”

“Shut up before I shove a dumbbell up there.”

Dick clutched his behind in mock dread at the threat.

“Seriously though, she’s obviously into you.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “The way I see it, from where I’m standing, she’s more into you.”

“Oh ho, do I detect a note of jealousy?”

“No,” Tim denied hotly, though his cheeks told a different story. “It’s just that you’re being super-gross about it. You know you’re acting like Bruce by coming onto every giddy schoolgirl and her mom who walks in through the door.”

Dick’s smirk jerked slightly.

“Wow, okay dude, we’re really going there.” It was his turn to be hurt by insensitivity. “You didn’t need to go that far. I’ll have you know this and that are completely different.”

“How so?”

“I approach these things from a sole marketing perspective. Purely professional. It’s called ‘show business’, bro.”

“Uh-huh. This coming from the guy who just lied about his scars to make himself look good. I suppose ‘that’s’ also part of your advertising strategy?”

“Hey, it’s not like it was a total lie. That really did happen, you know – minus the ‘falling debris’ part. …Besides, what else would you have me say?”

Tim shook his head, keeping his voice low. “…I don’t know.”

Dick seized on the telling silence. “You are attracted to her, aren’t you?”

“I am not.”

“It’s okay, I can see why. It’s all right to admit these things, you know. You don’t have to hide it.”

“I’m not hiding anything.”

The firm, yet flustered defiance only further confirmed Dick’s suspicion.

“Heh heh, little Timmy’s got a crush~”

He tousled Tim’s hair teasingly, to which the boy scowled.

“I do not.” He pushed the invading hand away in indignation. “Will you cut that out already? I’m not a kid anymore.”

Dick lowered his limb in disappointment.

“Okay, okay. Sorry.” Despite insistence otherwise, it delighted Dick that Tim was finally exhibiting some of the youthful desire – if not exuberance – he’d missed out on through his teenage years. “Trust me though, I have no interest in someone her age. She’s all yours.”

“Look, will you just drop it?” Tim snapped bluntly. “It’s none of your freakin’ business.”

Dick exhaled, clicking his tongue. If only Tim could be more honest with his feelings, true to himself – though he was painfully aware of how excruciatingly difficult that must be, what with everything the boy had been through. To be fair, he had his own troubles genuinely opening his heart to others, after all the times it had been broken and betrayed before. …He could only imagine how terrifying it must be for Tim, to allow someone else – a complete and total stranger – to get close by entering into his currently (semi-)stable and secure – if supremely secluded life, experience that kind of risky emotion again. Breach the many walls and defensive barriers he had set up around himself, upset the plainly precarious balance that was still a struggle to barely maintain. So as much as he wanted to continue coaxing and clowning – kidding around, he agreed to leave it alone for now, raising both palms in admitted defeat.

“Okay, I get it. I won’t bother you about it anymore.”

The subject successfully dismissed, Tim attuned towards the boxes in the back.

“So did you want me to help with moving this stuff or what?”

“Yeah, I needed to clear out some old things to make space for new equipment. Trying to tidy up the place more, getting rid of useless junk and whatnot. …Although most of it’s probably going up to the storeroom in the attic anyway. Sorry to bother you for this; I’d do all the lifting myself, but with my back…”

“Don’t mention it, it’s the least I can do to repay you.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

Tim knelt by one of the cartons as Dick set to work sifting and sorting, organizing according to some arbitrary system that ostensibly only made sense to him.

“Christ, how much crap do you have here? Seriously, what even is half this junk? I knew you had all kinds of odd ends lying around, but I didn’t realize it amounted to this much. Do you ever throw anything away?”

Dick shrugged.

“What can I say, I’m a hoarder by nature. Keeping keepsakes is my hobby. …Well, more like a habit, I guess. Why do you think we had a trophy room in the basement? It wasn’t originally Bruce’s idea, I can tell you that.”

Tim remained quiet as he poked through a large collection of CDs, containing a few recognizable but mostly random titles by various indie bands and artists he’d never heard of.

“Man, you’ve got weird taste in music.”

“Hey, don’t knock the classics. Those are precious goods, be careful with those.”

In spite of his scoffing, Tim picked up one of the discs that appealed to him, and was almost about to subconsciously slip the item under his oversized hoodie – an old, old habit of his own – before remembering he didn’t have to resort to sneaking or stealing when he could just ask.

“Can I borrow this?”

Dick didn’t even twist to look, implicitly trusting in his little brother’s judgment. “Yeah sure, go ahead.”

Tim breathed out in relief as he pocketed the prize with permission. That was a close call. Borderline kleptomaniac compulsions hadn’t surfaced like that in a long time, but then, it was only another minor checkbox on the extensive, exhaustive list of psychotic symptoms he was suffering from today.

There was another entry that caught his eye, different from the others. It had no hard case or album cover; just a plain, simple jacket labeled with marker:

For Babs.

Tim wondered if it was a mix tape – surely Dick wouldn’t have tried to record something himself? He couldn’t tell whether it was a gift Dick planned to give but never worked up the courage to – or something Barbara sent back after (one of numerous) breakup(s).

…Maybe Joker was right. Being in love with someone seemed like way more hassle than it was worth. Hell, just watching those two go back and forth between affection and anger even back then was tiring. Aggravating.

At any rate, he left burning curiosity alone, not wanting to intrude too much on Dick’s privacy (years ago he would’ve taunted his brother with the juicy bit of exposing bait himself, but that was then, when he was less mature and still found amusement in such things), and moved on to another container. As soon as he saw the contents inside, he balked a bit, heartbeat spiking. Aching. It was a family photo album, full of fond memories from the Flying Graysons’ circus days. His hands trembled as he flipped tentatively through the pages, unable to tear away even though it made him uncomfortable for a number of reasons. Paranoid of polaroids. Anything involving camerawork tended to make him queasy, though he could typically tolerate homages to others at least. These were different from the blown-up, polished posters on the wall though; the images portrayed within were more intimate, unscripted. Candid, captured moments of a close-knit clan, happy as a clam – treasured remnants of childhood innocence and bliss combined with parental pampering.

“This must have been such a cool place to grow up.”

“…It was.”

Glancing back at the receptacle, buried at the bottom was another set of snapshots: a framed photograph of Dick and Barbara together (him smiling smugly straight at her in puppy-like adoration while she beamed brightly at the viewer instead), and a worn print of the former in graduation garb next to Bruce, who had his paw wrapped proudly on the other’s shoulder. Scrawled on the top left-hand corner in Bruce’s surprisingly haphazard handwriting was a short congratulatory message:

Good luck at college, Dick.

Tim recalled how Dick told him the story of Bruce missing his graduation from Gotham State University, shortly before the two split up as Batman and Robin. (…The old man never even bothered to come to his own high school ceremony – not that Tim was expecting him to – although Dick and Barbara both did attend at least, albeit sitting at opposite ends of the auditorium.)

“It was building for a long time. I realize that now. …It was never really right. I mean, this isn’t exactly a normal childhood.”

He hadn’t really comprehended the notion then, but Tim understood now what those words meant – unfortunately all too well.

Tim sensed a shadow behind him, and for a brief instant, he half-envisioned it being Bruce from the way it loomed – but of course when he revolved around it was only Dick instead.

“Yo, you all right? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Tim looked down at the scrapbook in his lap, a wistful mist in his eyes. “I was just… thinking I don’t really have any pictures of my folks. At least none where we’re all together.” Or that isn’t a mugshot, he thought sullenly to himself. “I never saw my dad keep any mementos of Mom after she died. To be honest, I’m not sure I even still remember what she looks like.”

Dick plopped down on the ground next to him, resting a hand on the boy’s sagged shoulder.

“Listen, I hope you know: No matter what, you can always think of the two of us as family at least. I know I haven’t exactly been that much of a great guardian myself, that I could never replace what you lost either… But you are still a brother to me. Hell, I consider you the closest thing to a real relative I’ve had since then.”

Tim simply nodded, swallowing a lump in his gorge. Dick patted his back with a thump.

“Us guys, we gotta stick together, right? Through thick and thin.”

“Yeah.” Tim ducked his neck towards his collar, surreptitiously drying ducts on his sweatshirt. “…Thanks, you know, for letting me stay here so long. Roy and Conner too.”

“Hey, what are friends for?” A pause. “…How’s Conner doing by the way?”

Tim snorted, the caution in the other’s tone not escaping his notice. “What do you care? You never liked him anyway.”

“That’s not true. It’s just… The whole idea of cloning someone kinda wigs me out, okay? I dunno, imagining there being a duplicate copy of you running around is freaky enough, but one of Superman? It still doesn’t sit well with me to leave him loose like that, after all the underhanded crap Cadmus has pulled. Something about it just doesn’t seem right. Who’s to say he doesn’t have some secret kill switch that’ll make him go rogue like Supergirl’s doppelganger? Gotham may be full of crazies and creeps, but at least we never really had to deal with stuff of metahuman caliber aside from Ivy and Clayface, or Kirk when he took the serum.” Dick intentionally didn’t include Killer Croc on the atypical rogues roster; guy was too dumb a criminal to count. “We’re on the high end of the ‘weird’ scale, sure, but not even Batman’s equipped to take down a serious superpowered menace alone.”

Tim glared at him in disbelief.

“Is that you talking, or the old man?”

“…Maybe a bit of both,” Dick willingly conceded. “Look, I’m just worried, that’s all.”

“Yeah well, don’t be. I’ve got Mr. Kent on speed-dial, and Kon gave me his full consent to use the Kryptonite at my discretion as part of our ‘roommate agreement’. If anything happens, he told me himself he wants me to hit him with it as hard as I can.” …Even if it meant killing him – although Tim knew he could never go through with that. Not again. “Besides, it’s not him you’re actually worried about, is it?”

“Tim…”

“No, you know what this is?” Tim clenched his fist, drawing away from contact again. “You look at him with the same way you do me – like some ticking time bomb about to explode. I’m getting real sick and tired of it.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Sure it isn’t. Look, for your information, Conner’s doing fine. Hell, he pretty much behaves just like you; he’s probably getting wasted and chasing after chicks at some mixer right now. …That’s what you call a ‘normal college life’, isn’t it?”

Dick cleared his throat, aversely acknowledging hypocrisy.

“…What about you? How is school going? Do you like it there?”

Tim shrugged.

“It’s okay.”

“You know you didn’t have to just stick locally around here. If you wanted to go someplace else I would’ve sponsored you. I mean, I chose to stay close to Gotham because of that… ‘part-time job’ stuff, but you’re smart, you could’ve gone anywhere better.”

“I told you, I’m fine with this.”

“What about taking that girl’s suggestion at least? Life doesn’t just have to be about books and studying for tests all the time either, you know. Look at it this way: You’ve got the time and opportunity now to be a part of after-class club activities that I never had. Why not take advantage of it, get out there and socialize. Enjoy the excitement of your youth and all that.”

Tim stared, trying unsuccessfully to read the other’s expression. He couldn’t deduce whether the dude was just being humorously sarcastic, or genuinely envious and attempting to live vicariously through him. Either way, he wasn’t falling for it.

“I said forget it.”

Dick kept pressing despite disengagement, earnest in his endeavor to tempt Tim to pursue what used to fill the boy with fervent passion, desperately hoping to rekindle some kind of joyful spark.

“Come on, I’m sure it’ll be fun. I bet I could even still teach you to do a quadruple somersault if you’re interested.”

“Why? I suck at it.”

“You just need more practice. …Besides, it’d be kind of a shame to let a legacy die out without passing it on to at least one person.”

Tim wavered at the sincere, if somewhat scheming statement.

“I don’t know…”

“Trust me, it’s easy once you get the hang of it.”

“Maybe for you.” He bitterly bit his tongue under his breath. “I’d like to see you try to concentrate on keeping your balance with the Joker as a peanut gallery.”

“What was that?”

“…Nothing.”

Dick held his gaze for a second.

“Tim, I didn’t want to bring this up, but… Conner called me the other day. He told me, about the lab incident. He says you haven’t been sleeping or eating much either.”

Tim grit his jaw, feeling like a dagger had just been thrust in his gut. He couldn’t believe his best (perhaps only) bud in the world would betray him like that.

“Damnit, Kon.”

“Don’t blame him, he’s just worried about you too. I told you: You don’t need to keep hiding things from us. We’re here to help if you need anything. Babs too. If something’s troubling you, you can talk to us.”

“It’s fine, I’m handling it.”

Dick wouldn’t desist, determined to get the truth out of him.

“Tim, I heard you yelling earlier. …He’s back again, isn’t he?”

The boy sighed in surrender, eyes slanting stage right. “…To your left, making faces.”

His partner fixed him with stern concern.

“Are you off your meds again?”

“They don’t work. Not as well as they used to.”

“That doesn’t mean you should just stop taking them.”

“For what? So I can only experience the side effects?”

“So talk to Leslie. Ask her to adjust the dosage.”

Tim made a hollow noise. “I’m already on the highest strength that’s considered ‘safe’ for human consumption.”

Dick pulled out his phone anyway and began dialing her number.

“I’m contacting her. There must be at least something else we can try.”

“Not Dr. Thompkins,” Tim whined, as if a toddler throwing a tantrum.

“Look, either you call to make an appointment, or I will.”

Tim seethed, grinding his teeth. “All right, fine. Jeeze. God, you and Barbara still both treat me like a fucking child.”

“Yeah well, maybe if you stop acting like one.”

“Whatever. Just hand me the phone. I’ll talk to her.”

Dick extended the cell towards Tim, who took it with all the enthusiasm of accepting a dirty sock.

“It’s ringing.”

He listened closely in on the conversation to confirm a meeting time was set up, before Tim returned the receiver.

“Here. She wants to talk to you.”

Dick lifted the mobile to his ear.

“Hey, doc.”

“Hello, Richard. It’s good to hear from you boys. How’s the back treating you?”

“Fine.” He didn’t want to dwell too much on his own health status, so he moved on to the matter at hand. “Is there anything we can do to help Tim?”

“In such a rare and unusual case as this, it’s hard to say. It’d be beneficial to start by identifying the root of his relapse. Once we pinpoint that, it’ll be easier to formulate a treatment plan. It’s possible it could just be due to the stress of moving to a new environment. It’s good that you’ve been able to help support him through high school, but now that he’s becoming independent it may be triggering a stronger separation anxiety response in him. Even if consciously he rejects it, the Joker ingrained himself as a parental figure in Tim’s mind. Essentially, he equates that kind of attention with the nurturing love and protection he never properly received growing up. It’s common for child victims of abuse to form a disorganized attachment to the caregiver, especially when the caregiver behaves in an inconsistent manner. The conflict of the caregiver being both a source of comfort and distress can cause the child to display contradictory patterns when faced with a stressful situation; instinct tells him to simultaneously avoid and approach the one who is mistreating him. In the absence of a familiar atmosphere he’s accustomed to, he’s likely seeking alternate methods of coping as a survival mechanism. Has he been under any kind of particular pressure lately?”

Dick relayed the events leading up to the fainting spell, with little input from Tim beyond affirmative nods.

“I see. It’s certainly a sign of progress that he’s trying to face his fears, but a heads-on approach might not be the best tactic.”

“I tried to tell him that. He won’t listen.”

“I’ll have a chat with him about it when I see him, hopefully we can find a way for him to succeed in his studies without compromising his sense of safety. One more question, this is important: Has he tried to harm himself?”

“I… don’t think so. I’ll check, and let you know.”

“Please do.”

As Dick temporarily terminated the exchange, he rotated to see Tim had stood up and was headed towards the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Out for a smoke – walk – whatever. Just text me when you need me.”

“Hold it.” The harsh bark arrested the boy before he was halfway to the exit. “Wrists.”

Tim swiveled with a sour countenance.

“Seriously? Do we really have to do this?”

“Show me.”

He hissed, but obediently rolled up his sleeves, revealing bare but apparently unmarked skin.

“Satisfied?”

Dick advanced and examined him all over anyway, before nodding.

“All right. Now empty your pockets.”

Tim tsked, feeling as violated as when the staff at the detention center frisked him on admittance for any concealed contraband. He dug through his possessions, retrieving objects one by one: phone, wallet, CD player, lighter, cigarettes, and finally – under Dick’s demanding eye – the hidden pocketblade.

“Give me the knife.”

He hesitated.

“Don’t make me wrestle it from you.”

Relinquishing, he slapped the weapon into Dick’s grip without a word.

“Thank you. You can go, but try to keep near.”

“Sure thing, Mom.”

Dick deliberately chose to ignore the sardonic retort, used to receiving attitude by now. (For a fleeting moment, he mused if he ever gave Bruce this much frustration, although no doubt Alfred would certainly attest to it.)

After Tim left, Dick hit redial to reassuringly inform Leslie on the observed lack of self-inflicted damage to the patient’s physical condition at least – and preemptive confiscation of means just to be safe – before bidding goodbye with a final beep. He sighed as he rubbed his neck, hoping his “tough love” hadn’t come off as too deterring. He really wasn’t good with this whole “parenting” thing, considering the primary role model he had for nearly half of his life after early adolescence.

As he picked up the memoir from the floor, he caressed his fingers feather-light over the cover, brushing off collected dust and disenchantment before delicately placing it on a shelf for easy viewing access. The rest he unceremoniously dumped in the “to toss” pile, purposefully cramming as much trash as he could on top. …After a few minutes though he fished them out again, rescuing from the base of the rubbish heap with ambivalent reluctance, restoring to the original package and sealing tightly with tape. They could remain upstairs for now at least – like his ruined Nightwing costume – evidence of old wounds and shattered bonds shuttered behind closed panel; tucked away in the dark recesses of his conscience, lurking and lingering deep in the shadows off-screen.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Two birds of a feather Say that they're always gonna stay together But one's never going to let go of that wire He says that he will But he's just a liar

#TimSteph #Tim Drake #Timmy Todd #Stephanie Brown #Dick Grayson #Batman the Animated Series #Batman Beyond #DCAU #Return of the Joker #fanfiction #starstories #Ironically Dick later gets a clone himself in the 'Hush Beyond' comic story arc #which is a mess in all sorts of ways but I'm considering canon for the sake of keeping 'continuity'#on the subject of the tie in comics though one thing I love about Gotham Adventures is how they highlight Dick's fondness for music #wherein his musical knowledge actually comes in handy to help solve a couple cases #if you haven't read the series I highly recommend doing so for a lot more extra character development and wonderful BatFam interactions <3 #also FYI all the photographs appeared in the show at some point #cookie to whoever guesses which ep each is from ;O #P.S. Happy Father's Day

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tonystarkreactor · 7 years ago

Text

Falling on Deaf Ears

Inspired by this post by @reioka (because jesus it resonated hard), but it’s a bit different. Hope you like it!

Summary: It wasn’t like Tony wasn’t used to it. He had years and years of experience in being ignored. Hell, he’d grown up with Howard and Maria Stark as his parents. He couldn’t even begin to count the number of times his six-year-old self had been dismissed from Howard’s presence, even when he’d been bouncing up and down with obvious excitement. And Maria-- well, Maria was always so busy. She’d give an absent ‘mm-hm’ every once in a while, but even those were rare compared to the complete apathy he usually got.

So this. He was used to this. And hey, at least he wasn’t getting hit this time around.

(Or five times Tony's ignored by his teammates, and one time someone finally listens.)

Link for AO3

It wasn’t like Tony wasn’t used to it. He had years and years of experience in being ignored. Hell, he’d grown up with Howard and Maria Stark as his parents. He couldn’t even begin to count the number of times his six-year-old self had been dismissed from Howard’s presence, even when he’d been bouncing up and down with obvious excitement. And Maria-- well, Maria was always so busy. She’d give an absent ‘mm-hm’ every once in a while, but even those were rare compared to the complete apathy he usually got.

So this. He was used to this. And hey, at least he wasn’t getting hit this time around.

“--but it can’t be Kevlar because while it’s strong, it’s not light enough, and isn’t nearly as flexible as human skin, so then I was curious and I started researching, and then I thought it could be nano cellulose, because it’s completely organic and way more flexible, but actually, it’s so organic it would react with the water in his body and it would get all bloated, and considering John Smith did not, in fact, blow up into a balloon, it couldn’t have been that. So then, I kept researching, and--”

Tony faltered as Clint glanced away, distractedly looking at the TV. Tony tried to smile, before halfheartedly continuing, “--And-- and it actually could be graphene, because it’s only made up of locked carbon crystals and is almost totally nonreactive, and it’s so light you could--”

And now Clint isn’t even looking at him at all, not even trying to make it seem like he’s paying attention.

“You-- you could actually have a layer as big as a football field, and it would still way less than...”

He isn’t listening.

“... a gram,” Tony mumbled, his hands shaking around his mug of coffee. He shut his eyes and set it down, shaking his head.

It didn’t matter. Really, it didn’t.

Tony refused to let out a breath as he silently stood up and disappeared from the room.

II.

God knew Tony liked to ramble, and despite him trying to stop himself, he constantly caught himself going on for a half hour without even stopping.

“And then this guy-- I don’t even know who the fuck he was-- just came up to me and told me-- he didn’t ask, he told me-- to sign his middle finger. I don’t know why, like was he gonna get it tattooed or something? That’s still not as weird, though, as the time when a guy…”

He didn’t even know when he’d started, but when he looked up, no one was even in the room. He looked towards the couch Steve had basically taken over the last few months. (He liked to draw in here. And watch Tony work. Not listen, though, apparently.) There was an abandoned, half-finished sketch on the coffee table.. Tony had no idea when he’d left.

Tony closed his mouth, setting down the Allen wrench he’d been fiddling with. He remembered, back in college, hanging out with Ty.

“Jesus Christ, Tony, do you ever shut up?”

Tony clenched his jaw before picking up the wrench and going back to work.

III.

The power had gone out all across the city, including the coffee shop he and Nat liked to disappear to sometimes in the middle of the night for coffees that were more sugar than coffee. When Tony pulled out his phone to find the cause of the power outage, his findings made it easy for him to pass the time with some chatting. Or rather, ranting.

“God, this is ridiculous. God fucking dammit, Justin Hammer can suck my-- you know what, no, he can’t, because I deserve better than that. Justin Hammer can suck a duck’s dick-- except no, even a rabid corkscrew-dicked duck deserves better than that. Wait, can ducks even get rabies? Justin Hammer can get rabies. Fuck, Hammer probably does have rabies, that’d explain his complete idiocy, not to mention how much he spits when he talks, Jesus Christ, and just how the hell does he manage to make a virus that causes power to go out all across Manhattan? How did that man ever finish the seventh gra--”

“Shit.”

Tony looked up from the floor, only to see Natasha’s face illuminated by her phone. She was-- she was playing a game, something that revolved around colors. Something that was completely absorbing her attention.

Attention that was not, as he thought, on him..

“Uh, Nat?” he said, his coffee suddenly feeling cold.

“Hm?” she hummed, tapping her thumb against the screen furiously. She didn’t bother to look up.

“Uh. Were you listening?” he asked, his voice sounding stupidly hopeful.

“Justin Hammer, idiot, something about duck dicks, I got it,” she said, before huffing as she lost again. “Dammit.”

Tony nodded, his voice sounding small and subdued. “Right.”

IV.

“And-- oh! Oh, you probably haven’t gone to Coney Island yet, have you? It’s fun, as long as, y’know, you don’t do the hot dog eating contest right before you ride the Cyclone. But the Wonder Wheel’s always fun. I mean, I was terrified of it when I was little, but that’s because I was scared of heights. It wasn’t like it was unfounded, though, I mean, I did fall off the roof of the mansion once. Not like. All the way to the ground. Just to one of the lower dormers. I don’t remember what I was doing. I think I was looking at the stars. Or maybe I was trying to launch a rocket. Actually, I think I might have been trying to set off a weather balloon.

“Whatever, point is, my fear wasn’t unjustified. I’m not afraid anymore, though. Of heights, that is. I’m afraid of loads of other stuff, like clowns? Dolls? All that nonsense? Yeah, no. Never. I will never allow those in my presence. At least I’m not scared of chickens. Rhodey is. They freak him out. I don’t know. Personally, I think it stems from a project involving an egg he had to do in his high school home ec class, but I’m no professional.

“What was I saying? Oh, yeah, you’d love Coney Island. You could totally invite Jane up for a weekend, it’s a prime date loca… tion.”

Thor wasn’t even standing next to him anymore. He was at a churro stand twenty feet back, smiling cheerfully at the vendor as he bought a few.

Tony closed his mouth before silently walking back to join the thunder god.

When Thor completed his purchase, he took a bite of his fried pastry. He turned to Tony, smiling widely. “Anthony! These cinnamon treats are delightful!”

Tony forced a grin. “Uh-huh.”

Sometimes he wasn’t even chattering nonsense. Sometimes, it was important.

“Plus, something about just getting it off my chest, and putting it out there in the atmosphere, instead of holding this in… I mean, this is what gets people sick, you know. Wow, I had no idea you were such a good listener. To be able to share all my intimate thoughts and my experiences with someone, it just cut the weight of it in half. You know, it’s like a snake swallowing its own tail. Everything comes full circle...”

There was a thud, and Tony faltered. “And-- and the fact that you’ve been able to help me process…” He looked over, and Bruce was rubbing his eyes. He-- he just-- oh. He’d been sleeping.

“You with me?” Tony said, after a moment of hesitation, hoping he’d been wrong.

“Sorry, I was, yeah. We were at, um…”

Tony resisted a sigh. “Are you actively napping?” he said, not bothering to hide his offense.

Bruce stammered. “I was… I… I drifted.”

Tony bit his lip so he wouldn’t do something stupid like scream. “Where did I lose you?”

Bruce hesitated for a second, at least having the decency to look guilty, before he said, “Elevator in Switzerland.”

Oh. Oh. Okay. “So you heard none of it.”

Bruce shook his head. “I’m sorry.” He reached towards Tony, but the genius shifted away ever so slightly. “I’m not that kind of doctor. I’m not a therapist; it’s not my training--”

Tony’s frustration bubbled over. “So?” That’s not why he called Bruce, he was just-- his doctor told him he needed to talk to people, and he thought maybe his friend would listen, but no-- no, of course not.

“I don’t have the…”

“What, the time?” Tony finished, staring at his friend, trying not to show the way his brain was shutting down.

“Temperament.”

Tony nodded, before beginning to ramble about something meaningless so he wouldn’t say something he’d regret.

Because this had been important. It had been.

It had, hadn’t it?

“--and God, he’s hopeless. He tries his best and all, but Jesus, he’s a disaster. Half the coffee I’ve ingested over the last twenty years has contained some kind of grease or oil. He has his own cone of shame that has his name on it. Honestly, he’s ridiculous. One time, though, I found him with a flower crown on his head, and I honestly have no idea how he got it. Where could Dum-E have gotten a flower crown? I think he and JARVIS were messing with me. God, those two could team up and do some ridiculous--”

Jesus Christ, Tony, do you ever shut up?

Tony cut himself off, barely glancing towards his companions before dropping his gaze to his hands, his hands fiddling with a thread on his jeans.

They didn’t care, stop fucking rambling for once in your damn life, just--

“Stark?”

Tony startled, looking up at Gamora, who was leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, looking at him with raised eyebrows. Expectantly.

Wait. Everyone was looking at him expectantly. Drax had turned away from looking out the window to look at him, Groot was swinging from the ceiling patiently, Rocket was looking up from the gutted gun in front of him, and Peter was sitting across from him with a grin on his face. His beloved Walkman (which used to make Tony cringe, but had since gained his own adoration as soon as he learned of the sentiment attached to it) was even paused.

“Huh?” he said, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“You were saying?” she said, tilting her head forward.

Tony blinked. “What?”

“You were telling us of your children,” Drax said. “JARVIS and the dumb one liked to team up and prank you.”

“Well--” Tony stumbled, his eyes flickering between each of them before looking at his hands again. ‘--yeah, but you guys don’t want to hear about all that.”

“What the hell makes you think that?” Rocket snapped, making Tony startle and look up. “We were all listening!”

“I am Groot!” Groot added, kicking his little legs and nodding enthusiastically.

Tony blinked, before he glanced around at them. “I-- no, it’s fine. Seriously. I get carried away sometimes. I didn’t realize I’d been talking so much, it’s fine. You guys can just-- you can just get back to what you were doing.”

Across from him, Peter frowned. Tony caught the look he gave around the room, but he didn’t get what it meant until everyone was quietly making their way out, going to different parts of the ship. Rocket grumbled and Groot sighed in defeat, but besides that, there were no protests.

Once they were alone, Peter walked around the table separating them and sat next to Tony, taking the genius’s hands in his.

“What was that, Tony?” he asked, and Tony winced when he heard the quiet hint of sadness in his voice.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to prattle on and on. Just tell me to shut up whenever, okay?” he muttered, rubbing his forehead.

Peter huffed out an exasperated yet soft, “Aw, stardust,” before he gently pulled Tony from his own seat and into his lap. “You know I will never tell you to shut up, because I love hearing you talk. Your brain is awesome and your mouth is awesome, and I love everything that comes out of both.”

Tony huffed, ducking his head and hiding his face in Peter’s neck. “Peter…” he said, a hint of exasperation in his voice.

“I’m serious,” Peter argued, pressing a kiss to Tony’s head. “You could literally talk about nothing at all for days on end, and I would never get tired.”

“That’s stupid,” Tony mumbled, his lips tickling Peter’s skin.

“Maybe, but it’s nowhere near as stupid as you thinking I don’t like it when you talk.” He ducked his chin so he could gently push Tony’s head up, and he gave him a raised eyebrow. “Would you like to tell me where exactly this worry came from?”

Tony sighed, rolling his eyes. “Pete…” he whined.

“Because if it was the Avengers--” He chuckled bitterly. “I’ve got another thing to add onto my list of stuff to shoot them about.”

“You mean talk to them about,” Tony corrected, raising his eyebrows.

Peter rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay,” he said sarcastically. “If talk is a euphemism for shoot.”

“Peter.”

“Nuh-uh. If those assholes seriously made you think that people don’t care about what you’re saying, then they deserve to be shot. Everyone else agrees.”

“That’s because everyone else is gun-happy.”

“When it comes to the Avengers? Hell, yeah, we are.”

Tony rolled his eyes before dropping his head down again, allowing Peter to pepper his hair with kisses.

“Seriously, though,” Peter said. “I love it when you talk. I swear I do. Especially when you’re excited. You’re freakin’ gorgeous like that.”

“Peter,” Tony whined, even as Peter lifted his chin so he could kiss his neck.

“You are,” Peter sang, kissing up his neck and along his jaw. “You’re gorgeous, and smart, and funny, and gorgeous--”

“You said that already.”

“Stardust, you’re so gorgeous, it counts three times,” Peter mumbled into his cheek, before finally pulling away and smiling at him. “Maybe four. Maybe five.”

Tony rolled his eyes, smacking Peter’s shoulder. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Not as ridiculous as your eyes. Seriously, I could drown in those.” Ignoring Tony’s groan, he continued, “Really! There’s so pretty. I could literally stare at them all day. Like, your eyes, your lips, and your voice. That’s all I need for the rest of my life. I don’t ever need anything else. Not even food.”

Tony rolled his eyes, resting his head on Peter’s shoulder. “You’re so dumb,” he muttered fondly.

“I dunno, I must’ve done something right if I got you,” Peter said.

Tony lifted his head, giving Peter an unimpressed look.

Peter grinned, tightening his hold around Tony’s waist. “So, do you wanna keep telling me about your AIs’ and bots’ shenanigans?”

“I could,” Tony said, smiling dopily as he tipped his head forward to rest his forehead against Peter’s. “But I’d kind of rather be kissing you.”

Peter grinned. “See, I told you your mouth is awesome.”

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bughead-fic-request · 7 years ago

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I would like to thank @leaalda for making these amazing banners.

This is an effort to spread the word about all fan fiction writers in our little fandom. If you would like to be featured or nominate a writer, please contact me. Please reblog this post if you can and check out some of reflectivemuse (@i-am-the-fire57) work!

1. First things first, if someone wanted to read your stories where can they find them.

You can find my fics under the name reflectivemuse at AO3. I'll also post excerpts on Tumblr as @i-am-the-fire57.

2. Tell us a little about yourself.

I'm Rochelle, from Seattle, WA. Thirty years old, ace, bipolar, and Asperger's. Getting into reading and writing helped me understand real life social cues and communication better, but unless its blatant sarcastic humor can sometimes get lost in translation.

3. What do you never leave home without?

Phone, headphones, keys, and wallet that holds a bus pass and various cards together.

4. Are you an early bird or a night owl?

I'm kind of both - I stay up late-ish but wind up awake between six and seven am anyway.

5. If you could live in any fictional world, which one would you choose and why?

Percy Jackson's world, hands down. The mortality rate is a lot lower than other fictional realms I'm obsessed with, and there's still plenty of humor on the road to danger.

6. Who is the most famous person you’ve ever met.

None really yet - I've talked to YA authors Maggie Stiefvater and Cassandra Clare at book signings. I joked with Maggie about turning her first book Lament into a stage musical, and then with Cassie about how an alternate title for The Infernal Devices should be Downworld Abbey because of the proximity to the Downton Abbey time period - (she joked back that if she had her way Matthew Crawley would have been turned into a vampire)

7. What are some of your favorite movies/TV?

Supernatural, 12 Monkeys, Stargate SG-1, Humans, Riverdale, Nikita, Parks and Rec...I love musicals like 1776, A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, Grease, and Phantom of the Opera. The Captain America movies, especially Civil War. And, a curveball to my tastes - Runaway Jury.

8. What are some of your favorite bands/musicians?

I like various forms of metal - symphonic like Nightwish/Within Temptation, alternative such as Halestorm (I got my tumblr username from one of their songs.) I survived high school on punk-pop music, going to Green Day/Jimmy Eat World concerts. For pop, I eat up anything by Ryan Star.

9. Favorite Books?

Daughter of the Forest by Juliet Marillier

The Song of Ice and Fire series by George R.R. Martin

I'm decidedly a YA leaning writer and Maggie Stievater's The Scorpio Races along with Cassandra Clare's The Infernal Devices are some of the most beautiful books I've ever read.

10. Favorite Food?

Random things - challah bread, milkshakes, pad thai. I went to Hawaii once and got a taste for guava jelly. Nothing too interesting.

11. Biggest pet peeve?

Weird guys on the bus who want me to take my headphones off so that they can awkwardly hit on me. Also, guys who hit on me.

12. What did you want to be when you were little? What do you want to be now?

I wanted to be a Disney animator when I was three - hot off of seeing The Little Mermaid, I guess. My mom drew one rough doodle of Ariel and I kept asking for more until she told me to try it myself. I lasted two years of animation courses in college before deciding to focus more on the writing aspect of storytelling.

13. What are your biggest fears? Do you have any strange fears?

Oh, boy. Clowns (My mom dressed my room up in them when I was little) Bees! If a wasp is zooming within like ten feet of me, whether I'm at an outdoor restaurant or surrounded by a gazillion people, I move. I'm afraid of heights, and drowning, and the general feeling of weightlessness. And grasshoppers - awhile back I had a dream I was being chased by a giant grasshopper that everyone else kept calling the coolest thing ever.

14. When you are on your deathbed, what would be the one you’d regret not doing?

Travelling. I've done so much in my mind but so little IRL. I've never felt connected to my home country the way I do when I look at a calendar image of Ireland or listen to European folk music.

Okay… lets talk about your writing!

15. Which is your favorite of the fics you've written for the Bughead fandom?

Quiet Mercy - Struggling with mental illness, I wrote this thinking 'what I wouldn't give to have friends that step up the way the Riverdale gang is for Betty.'

16. Which was the hardest to write, in terms of plot?

For plot, that's South Side Story, only because there's so much other stuff going on - from the musical to the shady legal dealings to Bughead pretending they're strangers, plus more stuff I haven't even gotten to yet.

17. How do you come up with the ideas for you fic(s)? Do you people watch? Listen to music? Get inspired by TV/movies?

I watch the show. I actually come up with ideas while I'm watching the show - then I go over in my head where I can get more inspiration from. For Quiet Mercy I played around with elements of Legion (real vs not real Lenny), and for South Side Story I delved in Grease.

18. What kind of music are you using to write?

It depends on the story - for Quiet Mercy, I have a Spotify playlist full of angsty folk/rock. In honor of its inspiration roots, I'm using a lot of throwback artists from the sixties and seventies to write South Side Story. I'm using lines from those songs at the top of every chapter.

19. Least favorite plot point/chapter/moment you’ve written?

I can't say I'm too crazy about everything from South Side Story, chapter 2: Pure. Mostly because I wanted things to be much tougher for Betty at South Side High, and I think I might have copped out and given her some cool friends too quickly.

20. Favorite plot point/chapter/moment you’ve written?

For South Side Story, it was when Betty took on the stoners that had stolen her car. I felt like that was the first time I'd ever been able to write her as the clever badass I've always seen her to be. For Quiet Mercy, I want to say it's the love scene, but in reality it's a much smaller scene that happens earlier on, when Betty drops in on Jughead's foster family during dinner. I thrive on tension, I guess.

21. Favorite character to write?

So, in any world, I love to write the characters that do interesting things but express themselves quietly - basically Jughead. I also invented a transgender character who is fast becoming the most fun to use for deadpan - Sonny Chan.

22. Favorite line or lines of dialogue that you've written?

I have lots!

QUIET MERCY

Veronica: How about someone with no blue-collar marketable skills for Career Day and nothing equipped to help the people around me who are falling apart? I might as well sign up to be a professional pine tree!

Archie: Hey man, what's been going on?

Jughead: Ah, you know. Homework. Serpent side projects. I think my foster family has a Stepford cult.

SOUTH SIDE STORY

Sonny: I don't know about you guys, but this looks like at least a three year prison sentence. Maybe four - do you have any fireworks?

Jughead: I want you to put the top up so that I can touch you without looking over our shoulders. Betty: Smell that? I think someone left their bong in here.

23. Best comment/review you’ve ever received?

Honestly, my Bughead fics are pretty light in comments. I've written fics for other fandoms though, and it really got me through some dark times whenever someone said they'd been staying up just to see if I'd update.

24. How do you handle bad reviews or comments?

I've never gotten any of those...the worst for me is no comments, because then it kind of feels like no one cares, you know?

25. If you could change anything in any of your stories, what would it be?

I'd lighten it up. I've been so serious lately, I have no clue how to laugh anymore.

26. What is your favorite story you’ve ever written? Any fandom?

The biggest one I ever did was for Humans - I took a girl and handful of conscious robots and sent them across Europe with only audiobooks, a Wicked sing-along, and a dog to keep them occupied while they saved the world. I still read it every so often and wonder who was hijacking my body while it was being made.

27. What are you reading right now? Both fan fiction and general fiction?

Not reading too much now...I can never read and write at the same time. But Don't Drink the (Maple) Water by @christah88 is a freakin' pot of gold. (And yes 'pot' was referred to with appropriately ironic humor.)

28. Do you have an advice for writers that want to get into this fandom but might be scared?

Go for it! Plenty of nice people around - I'm pretty sure that anyone here in general doesn't sign up just to say 'stay away from me.' We're all looking to make friends, and there are plenty of ways to do that. Also I'm pretty new to this fandom myself - I just binged on Riverdale a couple of weeks ago. My inbox is practically empty, I'd love to change that. Thanks for reading!

#bughead author spotlight #fan fiction #fan fiction writers #ao3 #Bughead #bughead fanfiction #betty cooper #jughead jones #quiet mercy #south side story #reflectivemuse #riverdale #jughead x betty #betty x jughead

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daggerzine · 6 years ago

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Teen Movie Hell author, Mike “McBeardo’ McPadden speaks!

Ok, so the second I saw the title I was hooked. I mean, come on, Teen Movie Hell: A Crucible of Coming-Of-Age Comedies From Animal House to Zapped. Having been born in the mid-60’s I came of age right when many of these movies were being released and of course I had to see every single one.

But, I didn’t see every one, not even close. I thought that because I watched Class and Zapped a few decades ago that it made me some kind of expert? Well, I was dead wrong.

Mike “McBeardo” McPadden is the real deal. In this 350 plus page tome McPadden reviews hundreds of movies, many ones I had never heard of. He digs deep. He really gets to the meat of it all.

I was so curious about the origins of the book and his fascination with this genre of movies that I had to toss some questions his way and being the true gentleman that he is was more than happy to answer them. Read below and in the meantime pick up two copies of this book (because you’ll wear out the first copy).

Thank you again to Mike McPadden!

Do you remember where you were and when it was that you decided you wanted to write this book?

It was in 1994. I was at the Tail o’ the Pup hot dog stand with my great friend Aaron Lee. We were on a lunch break from our editorial jobs at Hustler magazine.

One of the most profound bonding elements in my early friendship with Aaron was our devotion to the movie review compendiums that so impacted and shaped who we were—particularly the annual Leonard Maltin guides, the Medved Brothers’ Golden Turkey Awards books, Michael Weldon’s Psychotronic Encyclopedia of Film and, above all, the work of author Danny Peary, in particular his series of Cult Movies books.

Aaron and I just sort of hit on the idea at the same moment—“Let’s write a book about teen sex comedies!” In time, our paths split professionally. I moved back to New York. Aaron went into stand-up comedy.

Over the next 25 years, I kept at the teen sex comedy book in one form or another. Aaron went on to a terrifically successful Hollywood writing career and was an Executive Producer of Family Guy. But—hey!—I got to write Teen Movie Hell!

Why the title- Teen Movie Hell?

I’m a fan of calling the book what it’s about, as in the case of Cult Movies. That’s why Heavy Metal Movies is titled just that. So, initially, the name of this book was. There was a time when that might have flown. Now is not that time.

A version of the book almost got published in 1999 under the title I Lost It in the Locker Room!, an allusion to Pauline Kael’s I Lost It at the Movies. At the eleventh hour, the publisher shut down the division that was handling my book and laid off my editor, so ILIITLR got scuttled.

At Bazillion Points, the books started life as Going All the Way. Then publisher Ian Christe came up with the almost perfect title Last American Virgins.

Finally, as we were doing edits, I came up with the idea to have an art show as the book’s release party and I thought—“How can I make the idea of participating in the show palatable to all these subversive artists I know and admire, beyond just saying, ‘It’s about Porky’s movies!’?”

Anne Elliott of the mighty Sideshow Gallery in Chicago offered to host the show. Sideshow specializes in witchy-groovy-occulty iconography, and I’d recently attended a show there full of devil imagery. That’s when the name “Teen Movie Hell” hit me. And, in short order, it just made perfect sense to apply that to the book—these movies took me through the hell of adolescence and they may well have sent society to hell at the same time.

In addition, Bazillion Points specializes in books about heavy metal, hardcore, and punk rock, and it has a very metal aesthetic. So calling the book Teen Movie Hell automatically made it feel like it was more of a piece with the other Bazillion titles.

From an intro in the book it appears that music and film zines both played a part in your inspiration (Conflict, Rollerdeby, two of my personal faces, etc.). How do they play a part?

I discovered zines in 1980 by way of The Uncle Floyd Show Gazette, a Xeroxed newsletter dedicated to a brilliantly hilarious and self-aware kiddie show that aired from New Jersey. I got a subscription.

A year or two later, the New York Daily News ran a profile of Rick Sullivan, publisher of the horror zine, The Gore Gazette, also from New Jersey. I love New Jersey. I ordered a Gore Gazette and it blew my 12-year-old mind.

From there, it was a short leap to tracking down The Psychotronic Encyclopedia of Film and understanding that it, too, had started as a zine. Then, leaning into punk culture as a teenager, zines became a crucial element of my existence, though they weren’t always easy to track down at first.

At the end of the ’80s/dawn of the ’90s, zines erupted with people doing surprising, personal things beyond just reviewing movies and music. I found that very inspiring. Gerard Cosloy’s hilarious, backhanded brashness in Conflict was a huge influence. Lisa Carver’s Rollerderby made it clear to me that anything was possible.

All that led to me publishing my own zine, Happyland, in 1991.

Aaron Lee and I met by mail after he sent me his zine Blue Persuasion in 1993. It was the best.

What was the criteria for inclusion of the movies in the book?

In cultural terms, the book covers the 20 years between American Graffiti in 1973 and Dazed and Confused in 1993, with a little smudging on either side into the years around them.

What the movies have in common is that they’re about teenagers and were made specifically for a teenage audience looking for a good time. The marketing angle has a lot to do with it—“Hey, kids! There’s a party raging up on the screen here and you’re invited! All you have to do is buy a ticket or take that VHS box cover to the rental counter!”

Exceptions exist. Bachelor Party, for example, is about clowns in their mid-to-late 20s, but they act like teenagers and it’s essentially just transferring the format to another setting. Same with Police Academy.

How long did it take you to complete the book?

In one form or another, I worked on it in spurts over 25 years. But, in earnest, once I got the Bazillion Points contract, it took three years.

For those of us around when these movies were being released why do you think they play such a huge part in our brains? Is it just the sex or something else?

What comes to mind is a bit of wisdom from Lorne Michaels. He said that anytime somebody tells him what they think were the best seasons of Saturday Night Live, it’s almost always the period when they were in high school—because you’re allowed to stay up late enough to see it, you’re watching the show by yourself or with friends rather than with your parents, and you’re getting jokes that maybe even just a year earlier would have sailed over your head.

I think it’s the same with these movies. Fast Times at Ridgemont High opened in theaters on the very first Friday of my freshman year of high school. Ferris Bueller opened four years later the exact day after I graduated. That period represents the very heart of the teen sex comedy genre and I was there, being a teen. These movies were made about us and, more importantly, for us.

How did Bazillion Points respond when you told them of your idea for the book?

Bazillion Points published my book Heavy Metal Movies in 2014 and did a superhuman job with it. Bazillion honcho Ian Christe and I have long talked about teen comedies and, back in the ’90s when I was pitching a book on the topic, it turned out he actually was too! I’m glad our knuckleheaded dreams got deferred and we were able to make it a reality together.

How was the response been so far?

So far, so cool.

Of all the movies you reviewed what is your personal favorite?

The two best-made films in the book are American Graffiti (1973) and Risky Business (1983), followed closely by Animal House and Fast Times at Ridgemont High (1982). Those are legit classics of cinema I love each one of them.

My heart truly belongs, however, to lunatic outliers on the order of King Frat (1979), Zapped! (1982), Joysticks (1983), Screwballs (1983), The Party Animal (1984), and Hamburger: The Motion Picture (1986)

What’s next? Care to spill any upcoming ideas?

Back in 2015, I announced Teen Movie Hell way earlier than I should have. Lesson learned. There’s more to come, but I’m playing it close to the coconut buttons of my Hawaiian shirt.

The man himself

www.teenmoviehell.com

https://www.bazillionpoints.com/product/pre-order-teen-movie-hell-the-crucible-of-coming-of-age-comedies-from-animal-house-to-zapped-by-mike-mcbeardo-mcpadden/

Here’s my review of the book, posted earlier in the month

https://daggerzine.tumblr.com/post/184504282732/teen-movie-hell-a-crucible-of-coming-of-age

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newagesispage · 4 years ago

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AUGUST 2020

PAGE DEB

There is a limited series coming to Showtime ,Blackbird: Lena Horne and America.

*****

Barack Obama joined a zoom call to Crip camp for the 30th anniversary of Americans with Disabilities act.** Hearing Obama, Clinton and even Bush speak as they remembered John Lewis reminds us how calming it can be to hear inspiring words.** Feel bad that Jimmy Carter could not attend since it was in Georgia. We miss ya.**John Lewis put his own words out there in the NY Times on the day of his funeral. He also wrote letters over the last couple of months to many activists to continue the fight.

*****

Racism is so American that when you protest it, people think you’re protesting America. – Romy Reiner

*****

Check our Smartless, the new podcast from Sean Hayes, Jason Bateman and Will Arnett. Each episode one of the hosts brings a surprise guest that answers questions.

*****

Opening some states is like opening a ‘peeing’ section of the pool. –Neil de Grasse Tyson

*****

Rumor is that Dave Chappelle will be on Letterman’s next batch of Netflix shows, My next guest needs no introduction.

*****

Check out the album Grandpa Metal from Brian Posehn, Brendon Small, Scott Ian, Al Yankovic, Corey Taylor and Jill janus.

*****

Reports have come thru that Brett Kavanaugh wanted the Supreme Court to avoid decisions about abortion and Trump’s financials.

*****

The Redskins have become the Washington Football team.

*****

Hulu will bring us Nine Perfect Strangers with Nicole Kidman, Melissa McCarthy and Michael Shannon.

*****

Days alert: I wish Bonnie would turn out to be Adrienne. If the switch was made when she chose Justin over Lucas,that would explain a lot. Eve is back for revenge but Ciara and Hope will find Ben. Will it be too late? I hope this brings Shane and Teresa back to town. Allie will have a boy but who is the Father? Rumor is that it could be Theo Carver or Parker Jonas or Tripp Dalton. Will Eli and Lani have twins? Sarah and Xander will reunite??

*****

Spencer Grammer was stabbed while trying to break up an altercation in NY. She is on the mend.

*****

The Green Banana is a sort of 425 foot bright blue sink hole that has been found off the coast of Florida. Divers say it is about 155 feet below the surface.

*****

The Department of Homeland Security has more law enforcement capability than all other branches combined.** Why aren’t the storm troopers working on real crime?? Fingers crossed for no more Trump troops for “Operation Legend.”

*****

Jim Jordan says that, “Big tech’s out to get conservatives.” The top performing FB posts that day: Ben Shapiro 2. Fox news 3. Dan Bongino 4. CNS news 5. Ben Shapiro 6. Ben Shapiro 7. Fox news 8. CNN 9. Blue lives matter

*****

2 million Americans do not have running water.

*****

Actor Bryan Callen has been accused of sexual assault.

*****

Breonna Taylor is on the cover of O.** The WNBA has dedicated their season to Breonna and the Black Lives Matter movement.

*****

Epix has brought us a sort of new look at Manson with Helter Skelter: An American Myth.

*****

Southern Crossroads has a slogan: Rednecks for Black lives!!

*****

Louis De Joy, the new Postmaster General has apparently shut down sorting machines and cut overtime so that mail carriers must leave mail behind.

*****

David Duke is permanently banned from Twitter.

*****

The Emmy noms are here: Netflix broke all previos records for number of noms. Leading the pack was Watchmen, The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, Ozark, Succession, The Mandolorian, SNL and Schitt’s Creek. The best drama category is the toughest with The Mandolorian, Ozark, Succession, Better Call Saul, The Crown, The Handmaids tale, Killing Eve and Stranger Things. Best supporting actor in drama and comedy is tough including Kieran Culkin, Giancarlo Esposito, Matthew Macfayden, Andre Braugher, Tony Shalhoub, Kenan Thompsonand Daniel Levy. The limited series or movie supporting actress is loaded with goodies too like Holland Taylor, Uzo Aduba, Margo Martindale, Tracey Ullman, Toni Collette and Jean Smart. How can you pick?? The 72nd Emmy’s will be hosted by Jimmy Kimmel.

*****

A new low: College Covid parties in Alabama to see who can get it. I think we need to crack down on education because we have some pretty stupid people in this country. Why do we want to work the medical professionals within an inch of their lives??** 155 thousand dead. The total cases have dipped slightly but fatalities are up. ** Pelosi has issued mandatory mask order for the house.** In the new covid bill they want 1.75 bill for a new FBI building that will stay in the same place that it now stands?? This surely couldn’t be because it is across the street from the Trump hotel and he does not want competition and likes his special locale. **The Senate decided to take a long weekend and not deal with it until August. How do so many not care about their fellow man??** The longer it takes to get the virus under control, the more business’s we lose forever.

*****

The Catherine’s clothing chain is closing.

*****

We need more detective shows with real stories about cops that don’t do things by the book. We have all heard of the fucked up crime scenes like Jon Benet Ramsey or Jeff Macdonald and we know that is just the tip of the iceberg.

*****

There have been shootings all over the country at various gatherings which should not even have been held.

*****

There is a long history with these vipers, Bill Barr’s Father hired a 20 year old Jeff Epstein to teach at Dalton. He was a high school drop out with no degree.** The usual suspects, Nugent and Baio et al.will speak virtually for Trump at the Republican convention.** Contrary to what the administration said, Paw Patrol was not cancelled.** You knew he would get around to wanting to postpone the election. Too bad for him congress has to agree and if they can’t work it out then the speaker may have to take over.

*****

Shep Smith has joined CNBC.

*****

Colin Kaepernick’s life will come to Netflix from Ava Duvernay. **

*****

The world hates us so much right now. We’ve been ruined in more ways than we know.** What kind of shithole President wishes a child sex trafficker well?

*****

Billy Eichner will play Paul Lynde in Man in the Box.

*****

The U.S. has told the Chinese consulate in Houston to shut down. Is this because of intellectual theft?? Now China has moved us out of our consulate there.

*****

Fairfax County will rename Robert E. Lee high after John Lewis.

*****

The Reagan foundation has asked the Trump campaign to stop raising money off of his name.

*****

I’ve been begging everyone for years; please wear a mask! –Emo Phillips** CVS and Wal Mart no longer require masks!!

*****

The company, Tele Tracking that took over control of the covid info is owned by Chris Johnson. The 10 mil contract went to the NY real estate dude.

*****

Funny how everything is a handout besides generational wealth.

*****

Hooray to the Yankees and the Nationals for taking a knee before the game.** Trump claims he was busy with Covid and could not throw out the first pitch. Come to find out, he was not asked. He made it up.

*****

Favre and Trump golfing, yea, that sounds about right.

*****

A company can keep women from birth control if there are religious or moral objections. About 126 thousand women will lose coverage.

*****

Lt. Col Vindman had been approved for promotion but the President would make the final decision. The brave hero decided to retire.

*****

The Supreme Court ruled that Trump can’t block his records being released. It is in the public interest but Trump can try again to block with different tactics.** They also ruled that most of Eastern Oklahoma will remain Native American land.** The Esselen tribe of Monterey county have reclaimed land on the Big Sur coast that was theirs 250 years ago. This was a cooperative effort between them, the California natural resources agency and a conservancy group.

*****

Trump calls the Black lives matter in front of Trump tower, “a symbol of hate.”** Cops shot, Cops killing civilians, mask confrontations: The mental illness in this country is officially off the charts.

*****

Biden claims he will use the Trump tax cuts to pay for 5 million new jobs in products and technology. The Dems released their agenda that touts free child care.** 100 days before the election, Brad Parscale was demoted. Jared puts his friends in high places and it goes on.** They say John Kasich will speak for the Dem convention. **

*****

Hey Seth Meyers: I LOVE the sea Captain!!

*****

Muddy Water’s former Chicago home at 4339 S. Lake Park Ave. will be a museum.

*****

Sen. Tom Cotton called slavery, “a necessary evil.”

*****

Still advertising on Fox news: Verizon, Noom, Allstate, Pfizer, Ancestry, Honey, Poshmark, Purple and Sanofi. ** And we know never to eat Goya again.

*****

Jean Smart will star in Miss Macy.

*****

Oprah mag will stop print.

*****

It is so Scary Clown: The only thing the enemy can’t stand is being laughed at. –Mark Twain

R.I.P. all the Covid victims, Nick Cordero, Hugh Downs, Ennio Morricone, Bill Field, the elephants of Botswana, Ronald Schwary, Charlie Daniels, Mary Kay Letourneau, Max B. Bryer, Kelly Preston, Naya Rivera, Ben Keough, Phyllis Somerville, Grant Imahara, Emitt Rhodes, Regis Philbin, John Lewis, John Saxon, Peter Green, Malik B., Herman Cain, Alan Parker and Olivia de Havilland.

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johnclapperne · 6 years ago

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A Beginner’s Guide to CrossFit

CrossFit is EVERYWHERE these days.

If you have friends or coworkers that enjoy working out, you might have even heard them talking about the newest CrossFit “box” (gym) that just opened up down the street.

You see CrossFit themed Reebok shoes.

You see Crossfit on ESPN.

And you’re wondering:

“Hey Steve! What the hell is CrossFit, and is it for me?”

If you ARE wondering that, my response is “Wow, I’m good at reading minds.”

If you WEREN’T wondering that before, you are now…which means I’m good at mind control.

You see, either way I win.

But that’s neither here nor there.

Anyways…I’ve been talking with Team NF’s Staci (a CrossFit Level 1 Trainer and our head female instructor for our 1-on-1 Coaching Program) about how we couldn’t find a decent “Beginner’s Guide to CrossFit” anywhere on the Internet that wasn’t heavily biased – in either direction.

On top of that, any time there’s an article that mentions the word CrossFit, a quick trip to the comment section reveals so much support or hatred that it’s almost comical.

Well, rather than wait for that beginner’s guide to CrossFit resource to get written, I figured why not write it ourselves? (Note – if you already worship or loathe CrossFit, this article won’t change your mind.)

Let’s figure out what CrossFit is, who it’s for, how it works, and if you should join your local CrossFit gym.

WARNING: At 6,000 words, this is the longest post that has appeared on NF to date. If you have NO interest in CrossFit, check out our Strength 101 series.

By the way, if you’re interested in CrossFit but are worried about looking foolish, or you’re unable to find a great CrossFit gym in your area, you’re not alone!

As you’ll see in this article, CrossFit can either be AMAZING or TERRIBLE! It depends on how you like to be motivated, if there are competent coaches around you, what your goals are, and if you actually enjoy exercise.

If you are excited about the idea of getting started with weight training but overwhelmed or nervous or unsure, we have a 1-on-1 online coaching program where you get paired with a member of the NF Coaching staff who builds a workout program and nutritional strategy just for you.

You can book a free consultation with our team by clicking the image below to see if our coaching program is right for you.

Now back to CrossFit!

What the Hell is CrossFit?

CrossFit is advertised, in four words, as “the sport of fitness.”

With constantly varied, high-intensity functional movements, CrossFit is a training philosophy that coaches people of all shapes and sizes to improve their physical well-being and cardiovascular fitness in a hardcore yet accepting and encouraging environment.

Here’s the definition of CrossFit from the official site:

CrossFit is the principal strength and conditioning program for many police academies and tactical operations teams, military special operations units, champion martial artists, and hundreds of other elite and professional athletes worldwide.

Our program delivers a fitness that is, by design, broad, general, and inclusive. Our specialty is not specializing. Combat, survival, many sports, and life reward this kind of fitness and, on average, punish the specialist.

CrossFit contends that a person is as fit as they are proficient in each of ten general physical skills: cardiovascular/respiratory endurance, stamina, strength, flexibility, power, speed, agility, balance, coordination, and accuracy.

Or, in nerd speak – CrossFit is a training program that builds strength and conditioning through extremely varied and challenging workouts.

Each day the workout will test a different part of your functional strength or conditioning, not specializing in one particular thing, but rather with the goal of building a body that’s capable of practically anything and everything.

CrossFit is extremely different from a commercial gym…and not just because you won’t find any ellipticals, weight machines, or Zumba.

I’ll explain what makes CrossFit different later in the article.

Who is CrossFit for?

According to the CrossFit site:

This program “is designed for universal scalability, making it the perfect application for any committed individual regardless of experience. We’ve used our same routines for elderly individuals with heart disease and cage fighters one month out from televised bouts. We scale load and intensity; we don’t change programs.”

What that means is that every day there is a particular workout prescribed (you’ll often see this written as Rx’d) for everybody that comes to CrossFit.

Rather than having one workout for older women and another for hardcore athletes – there’s ONE workout each day that is completely scalable based on your skill.

For example, if the workout calls for squats with 135 pounds but you can only do squats with the bar (45 pounds), then that’s where you’ll start.

If you’re injured and can’t do squats at all, a similar movement will be substituted, and if the number of reps is too many for your current ability, that will be reduced. As you get stronger and more experienced you’ll work your way towards eventually doing the workouts as prescribed.

Now, although CrossFit can be for everybody, it certainly ISN’T for everybody. In this blogger’s humble opinion, CrossFit is perfect for a few types of people:

Beginners to weight training – If you have NEVER weight trained before (or trained only on machines), CrossFit is a great place for you to start (provided you have a great coach, which I’ll cover shortly). You’ll learn how to do all of the important lifts in a super supportive and nonjudgmental environment. You might even find that…GASP…you love strength training!

People looking for support and community – This is the appeal to CrossFit for me: every CrossFit gym has a really tight-knit community feel to it. You’re not just a membership payment to them; you’re a person that needs support. When Nerd Fitness gyms start popping up (don’t think it won’t happen!), I’ll be drawing a lot of inspiration from CF as to how members are so supportive and inclusive of each other.

Fitness fanatics – You know those people that love to work out every day and feel like something is missing if they don’t? The way CrossFit is structured, you are working out with regular consistency. The general protocol is 3 days on, 1 day off, but many CrossFitters end up at the gym more frequently. It’s addicting.

Masochists – I mean that in the nicest way possible. CrossFit often rewards people for finishing workouts in the least amount of time possible. This means that you’ll often be in situations where you are using 100% of your effort to finish a workout, exhausting yourself, and forcing yourself to push through the struggle.

Former athletes – CrossFit has built-in teamwork, camaraderie, and competition. Almost all workouts have a time component to them, where you either have to finish a certain number of repetitions of exercises in a certain amount of time, or the time is fixed and you need to see how many repetitions you can do of an exercise. You get to compete with people in your class, and go online to see how you did against the world’s elite CrossFit athletes. There is even an international competition for those that become truly dedicated.

There are a few people for whom I don’t think CrossFit would be as beneficial, but this doesn’t mean they won’t enjoy it:

Specialists – CrossFit prides itself on not specializing, which means that anybody who is looking to specialize (like a powerlifter) will not get the best results following the standard CrossFit workout schedule. If you want to be good at a specific activity, that’s where your focus should be.

Sport-specific athletes – Like the specialists, if you are an athlete training for a sport, you’d be better off finding a coach that is trained in getting great performances out of athletes in your specific sport. Every sport has special movements that require certain types of power in specific muscles. CrossFit prepares you for everything, but won’t improve your specific sport skills unless you are training for those specific sport skills! Many athletes choose to combine CrossFit with sport-specific workouts (see things like CrossFit Football) in their off-season for conditioning, but that’s up to each sport’s coach.

Solo trainers – Some people, myself included, love to work out alone: my training is my meditative time each day. CrossFit is group training, which means you won’t have that opportunity to get your stuff done on your own.

Is CrossFit dangerous?

In short, yes it can be.

But that could be said of literally any sport or exercise. Or driving a car.

In the wrong situations, with the wrong coaches, and a for person with the wrong attitude, CrossFit can be dangerous:

1) During a CrossFit workout, you’re often told to complete a number of strength training or endurance exercises as fast as possible, or complete as many repetitions as possible in a certain amount of time. For that reason, it’s REALLY easy to sacrifice form in exchange for finishing the workout quicker. If you don’t have somebody spotting you or telling you to keep your form correct, then you’re in trouble.

When it comes to strength training, improper form (especially at high speeds with heavy weights) is the FASTEST way to get seriously injured. If a CrossFit gym is run by inexperienced and unproven coaches – which definitely happens – then things like this happen and they happen frequently.

2) CrossFit attracts a certain type of person – namely folks who push themselves so hard they actually do bodily harm. Ask any CrossFitter if they’ve met “Pukey the Clown” and they’ll probably tell you yes. Due to the nature of competition, the motivating atmosphere, and people’s desire to do well, many people in CrossFit often push themselves beyond their personal limitations (which can be a good thing)…but oftentimes they push themselves too far.

I totally get it.

In my first CrossFit experience three years ago, I almost made myself puke because I wanted so badly to finish with a good time. Last year, I did another CrossFit workout that I hadn’t properly prepared for and cranked out 100 pull ups quickly…and I ended up walking around with T-rex arms for a WEEK because I physically could not straighten them. Not kidding.

3) In some extreme cases with a VERY small portion of CrossFitters, an incredibly serious medical condition called rhabdomyolysis can take place. When people push themselves too hard, too much, too fast, their muscle fibers break down and are released into the bloodstream, poisoning the kidneys.

At CrossFit, some coaches refer to this as “Uncle Rahbdo,” though it’s not something funny or enjoyable. You can read all about the condition and issues it can cause here. This typically occurs with (primarily male) ex-athletes who have not exercised for a while and come back trying to prove something, and end up working at a higher intensity than their body can handle.

So, like with any activity, you can have people that like to push themselves too far, too hard, too fast, and too often. Unfortunately, due to the nature of CrossFit (where this behavior is often encouraged and endorsed), you can end up in some serious danger if you don’t know when to stop or have a coach that will tell you when to stop.

Personally, I find these issues to be more with individual people than with the CrossFit system as a whole, but it is the nature of CrossFit that attracts these people and encourages them to behave dangerously.

I’ll let you make your own decision here.

If you like the idea of strength training, but are a bit worried about starting with CrossFit, I hear ya.

It’s why we made our massive Strength Training 101 guide so you know exactly how to get started and even provide you with specific workouts to follow! Get it free when you sign up in the box below and Join the Rebellion!

Download our comprehensive guide STRENGTH TRAINING 101!

Everything you need to know about getting strong.

Workout routines for bodyweight AND weight training.

How to find the right gym and train properly in one.

I identify as a:

Woman

Man

What’s a CrossFit class like?

Let’s say you’re interested in joining a CrossFit class, but you don’t know what you’re getting into!

Practically every CrossFit gym around the world will let you come in and try out a class for free, so contact your local gyms and find out what dates and time they’re having newbie sessions. This is how the classes are usually structured:

Introduction class – For people who have never tried CrossFit before. Usually there’s a quick overview, and then a basic body weight movement workout, and then they talk to you about joining. These are usually free.

On Ramp/Elements – If you’re interested in joining the regular CrossFit workout, you’ll most likely be required to go through the On Ramp/Elements course. The purpose of these is to teach you the nine foundational movements of CrossFit and all about proper form. No matter how experienced you are, these are valuable and worth the time and money. Even if you think you have perfect form on your squats, deadlifts and/or overhead presses, it’s amazing what can be fixed when you have a trained set of eyes watching you do them.

Regular classes: This is what you’re probably used to seeing or hearing about. A regular CrossFit class takes anywhere from 45 minutes to an hour. Everybody starts at the same time, there are instructors walking around helping out and keeping track, and everybody is supporting each other and probably swearing a lot.

Most CrossFit gyms will split their classes into three or four sections:

Dynamic warm up – Not jogging on a treadmill for 5 minutes, but jumps, jumping jacks, jump rope, squats, push ups, lunges, pull ups. Functional movements, stretches, and mobility work that compliment the movements you’ll be doing in the workout that day.

Skill/Strength work – If it’s a strength day, then you’ll work on a pure strength movement (like squats or deadlifts). If it’s not a strength day, then you’ll work on a skill and try to improve, like one-legged squats or muscle ups.

WOD – the workout of the day. This is where you’ll be told to do a certain number of reps of particular exercises as quickly as possible, or you’ll have a set time limit to do as many of a certain exercise as possible.

Cool down and stretching – Either as a group, or you’re allowed to stretch out on your own. This would also be the time for people who pushed too hard to go puke in a trash can and stretch their stomach muscles.

How to find a CrossFit Gym

So, let’s say you’re interested in trying out a CrossFit class or maybe joining a CrossFit gym.

If you happen to live in a city, there are probably more than a dozen CrossFit “boxes” in your area.

Other than picking the one that’s closest to you, why not put a bit more thought into it? This isn’t like picking a commercial gym – the community and coach are so freaking important.

First and foremost, you need a gym with competent, experienced coaches.

You should be able to see through that particular CrossFit gym’s website – not the main CF site – who the coaches are and how long they have been teaching, including their certifications.

Here’s a quick breakdown of what you might see from coaches:

CrossFit Level 1 – an ANSI-accredited certification. This means the person went to a weekend-long course and passed the exam.  You’re taught the basic movements, how to scale each movement, but not really much more. There are no specifics on how to deal with injuries, anatomy, etc.

CrossFit Level 2 – This is the next level up from Level 1, and involves far more in-depth training in coaching.

Certified CrossFit Level 3 Trainer – This is for coaches who have passed both the Level 1 & Level 2 certification courses as well as a CrossFit-specific exam.

Certified CrossFit Level 4 Coach – Given after an assessment/evaluation of a coach’s abilities, and the highest certification level available.

 Specialty Seminars – These are one- to two-day courses on specific topics like gymnastics, Olympic lifting, and running.

Other non-CrossFit certifications from personal training organizations, powerlifting programs, kettlebell programs, etc.

There’s big money in CrossFit these days, which is why so many gyms are opening up all over the country. Make sure to do the research on who your coaches are, and if they have actual coaching experience.

The other important thing to check out is PROGRAMMING! CrossFit programs can be truly random, and an inexperienced coach can accidentally program back-to-back workouts that use the same muscle groups in the same way, not giving you enough time to recover.

On every CrossFit gym’s website, there’s usually a blog where they post the workout of the day. Look over this for the gym you want to check out and see what they typically do. If they do high-rep cleans three days in a row, they obviously don’t program well. Or if you see every day for a week with heavy shoulder movements, be wary!

Remember, most CrossFit gyms will let you attend one class for free. If you have a few in your area, try out each of them once before making your decision.

Go to each one and make note of the other members there – are they supportive of each other? Did they introduce themselves and welcome you?

Were the coaches nice and hands-on with their advice during the workout?

If you’ve been reading Nerd Fitness, you know how important a good community can be for success. CrossFit gyms are no different.

Can I do CrossFit at home?

Every day, CrossFit.com puts out the workout of the day (or WOD), which can be done at home, in a commercial gym, or in a CrossFit gym.

Every CrossFit gym will put out their own WOD as well, which can be different from the CrossFit.com site – if you happen to find a local CrossFit site that you enjoy but don’t attend full-time, it’s more than okay to follow their workouts.

The best news about this is the workouts are posted free of charge to anybody that is interested in doing them. CrossFit gyms are often expensive, so if you love CrossFit but are looking to save money, you can follow along at home or in your office gym provided you have the right equipment.

Many times, you’ll run into situations where you can’t complete a particular workout because you don’t have the right equipment – do the best you can with what’s available to you, and keep track of how you made your modification for tracking purposes.

Now, there are a few issues with following CrossFit at home or by yourself in a gym:

Nobody is checking your form – CrossFit requires many incredibly specific movements; if you start by yourself at home, you’ll never know if you’re doing them wrong and could severely hurt yourself as you increase the amount of weight with which you work.

Nobody is cheering you on – A HUGE part of CrossFit is the supportive community aspect that comes with each gym. I guarantee you’d finish a workout a few seconds (or minutes) faster if you had 50 people screaming your name and cheering you toward the finish line.

You probably don’t have all of the equipment – If you’re working out at home, you probably don’t have a full squat rack, bumper plates, kettlebells, medicine balls, and so on….so you’ll often be creating your own workouts that are..

http://bit.ly/2hC24ga

#A Beginner’s Guide to CrossFit

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joshuabradleyn · 6 years ago