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ricardian-werewolf · 5 months ago

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5. God save the queen/The fascist regime!

THAT SOUND FUN!

The walls of the Tower of London were made of stone. 8 centuries old, they had gone through several iterations. But Jane cared not. She dug her burning wrists into the silvered bonds and thrashed wildly, growling like a caged animal to be let out. Let free.

Behind the bars of her prison, Lord Melbourne conferred quietly with Victoria, who smirked, and mimed something. In her hands was a canister of something, and her hands were gloved. Jane watched through slitted eyelids, feeling the throbbing ache of double black eyes, a bruised jaw and broken collarbone. She’d fought capture as much as a girl familiar with the feeling of being bent over by a man and brought to her knees could be - like some sort of canine beast who didn’t want to die at the end of the hunter’s gun.

I’m going to rip that woman’s neck open, and stick her head on a fucking pike. See how she likes getting her eyes pecked out by crows. Or maybe I should let her live, cast her into the Wastes and give her a hoe, so she can dig her own grave when the cataracts eat through her eyes, and her lungs corrode under the fluid leaching from her cracked lips.

Jane decided that the second option was much more deliciously awful, and settled back into her seat to keep watching her captors discuss something.

“... the gas should - kill her. At least from what I read…”

Jane swallowed, tried to not think about the ventilation in the walls.

“... if it doesn’t, we’ll do what we did with that bastard boy who’s Gloucester’s. Put her in Room 101.”

Jane’s fingers became clawed and she worked to saw through her bonds, but found them to be cutting her own nails. That plan thus abandoned, twisting her head from left to right, she noted the double-strength glass observation wall to her left, the silver bars behind it, and to her right, in front, and behind, the ventilated walls.

They’d put her in here to die.

You’ll die, you’ll die, you’ll die. All Nikolai will have to marry is a fucking corpse! Imagine that. You’ll meet your end, Jane. Just like how that fucked up, deformed thing you called your baby looked. As bloodied and ugly as it. Oh, he won’t make you into a bride. With luck, there won’t even be anything left to bury!

Not if I get out.

Since when have you ever got out of anything, Jane? Certainly not much, hmmm?

Shut up, Ruth. SHUT UP!

It’s a shame, you know. You never would’ve made a good mother, anyways. Always too pre-occupied with surviving, and protecting that freak, Augusta. I should’ve left her in that shell hole. And YOU! I should’ve taken my mother’s advice and aborted you while I still could.

Tears poured down Jane’s cheeks as she thrashed in her bonds once more. Hysterics in times of panic were seemingly an inheritable trait of the Becketts. Jane growled, imagining her mother as something very small, fragile, and easy to crush with the sole of her boot. A mouse.

She would kill her mother as soon as she got out of her bonds. Take her in the middle of the night with Nikolai’s knife to her throat, a line of red underlining her name. Dead, and burned in some corpse-pile on the Wastes’s edge. Or perhaps in their heart. Burned and buried in the town that had been the epicenter of an attack that’d made them all this way. Ruth didn’t even deserve a funeral, or much else. How could a woman who’d claimed to love her own daughter side with her rapist when push came to shove, had turned her back on Jane when she’d birthed her monster - her own minotaur who was dead from the moment it came into the world?

But you’ll die here. And good riddance too.

You underestimate me, Ruth.

No, I don’t. You play the fox, but you’ll always be the rabbit, tucked low to the ground, afraid. Any and all conflict has you running for the hills. It’s a miracle you lasted this long, anyways. If we’d ever ended up in that god-forsaken Nazi version of england who nuked us, I’d have turned you over and had them deal with you. Consider this penance for your sins.

Sins you straddled me with, by not helping me!

Sins you deserve! Now, quiet, I hear a hissing noise.

Jane’s face drained of all color, and she frantically whipped her head from side to side, trying desperately to plug her nostrils, keep her mouth closed. The gas stung her eyes, making black spots dance in the edges of her vision. Screaming would do nothing - her lungs would fill with gas, kill her, and she’d die here, face frozen in some grotesque scream. So she fought vainly to live.

What she didn’t hear over the hissing of this nest of vipers was the sounds of screams,and swords clashing through the Tower’s halls. The ancient stone structure was being laid siege to by none other than some of Richard’s best soldiers. Amongst them was Cecily-Anne, burns and all, desperate to drag Jane out from under Melbourne’s grasp.

None knew what awaited them underground.

Jane’s vision began to swim alarmingly, as the black spots blossomed and she lolled back. Her lips parted, and a small gasp escaped her. Then, all faded out. ****

When she came too, Jane blinked twice. She expected to see the wooden beams and stone ceiling of the cell she’d become so intimately knowledgeable of. What faced her now was some sort of gauzy fabric made of cyan and edged in gold leaf and stars. A double-headed eagle glared down at her, flanked by a fox and a stout, and at their feet were White Roses and thorned fire-flowers.

Aware of a resounding pressure on her hand, Jane weakly turned her head to her side and found Nikolai’s eyes watching her, puffy with tears shed and smeared with blood. His knuckles were busted and broken. His fingernails were long, shadowed. He must’ve transformed.

For what?

“You,” he coughed, and Jane blinked again, then spoke, shuddering:

“Me?”

Nikolai nodded, and shushed her as she tried to speak again. “Your lungs are damaged, from the gas. You were nearly-” he bit his lip, and fumbled weakly for a handkerchief as tears splashed down his cheeks. Finding none, he wiped his eyes on his ripped and worn tunic sleeve. “Dead. If I’d been but a minute later…”

Who found me? She signed, coughing.

“Cecily. She has the instincts of a mother fox seeking its cubs when she’s in the right kind of mood. And what we found-” Nikolai choked, and reached with shaking hands for his canteen of water. Taking a sip, he gently helped Jane’s head up and let her drink her fill.

“You’d destroyed the entire complex. From top to bottom. They’d gotten the gasses mixed up. It wasn’t Zyklon B - just Mustard gas. The Zykon was supposed to have silver flakes in it. The fabrikators are examining it now for disposal-” Nikolai rambled, but stopped at Jane’s widened eyes.

I destroyed it? How?

Nikolai peered at her, and noted her flinch when he reached to touch her fevered cheek. Withdrawing his hand, he gently kissed her knuckles, watching her reaction all the while. This was one of their safe touches. Kissing her hands, knuckles, palm, all were good. Anything else required more time, and for her especially to be in a better mental space. She doubted he’d ever bed her, or that she could ever stand to have a man’s hands on her like that, skirts hiked up.

She squeezed her eyes shut, but the tears still came. Through her blurred vision, she caught Nikolai’s eyes watching her, and fell into his arms with a horrific, almost animalistic noise of fear and surrender. Her fragility felt wrong, felt alien.

Look at you. Going to a man like him. He’ll hurt you. They all do.

Jane’s eyes popped open as she stared past Nikolai’s shoulder, to the stone walls of the Tower’s inner keep. Ruth was wrong - she’d always been wrong. Nothing she’d ever said had been anything but a lie.

I’m done with you. Get out of my head.

It’ll take more than that, Janie.

Jane closed her eyes again, rested her temple on Nikolai’s shoulder, and felt his fingers trailing over her jail-style chop. It’d grown ratty, needed a barber. She missed her braids something awful. She longed to grow her hair long again, for the intricate dos she’d wanted to do for ages and ages. She missed Cecily’s fingers in her hair, twisting her strands into intricate coils when all they had were bits of twine and ratty ribbons to make her into a princess.

Now, she’d be a queen.

Saints willing.

Where’s Cecily? Jane signed, using the sign for Cecily that was intimate to her - the sign for wolf. Nikolai’s grin returned, and Jane relaxed a smidgen. It was good to see him smile. She’d longed to see it, to see him. Ever since they’d bumped shoulders on accident in the York streets near the Minster, she as Cecily’s lady in waiting, and he as Richard’s son’s bodyguard, there was an almost nuclear level spark between them.

She’d been - days? Weeks? - out of a long tenure in London with Anne Neville, ferried north on the riverways and put into only a mere few inns. She was tired, anxious over Melbourne’s machinations to take Cecily back after she’d escaped Ives’s bloodied teeth and the cold of Fort Spencer. What she hadn’t needed then was a distraction in the form of A “First Army,” infantryman who’d risen through the ranks because he “cared,” for his people and was really a prince and a privateer.

Now, she stared, hating, at the walls of the White Tower. The Princes weren’t dead - either somewhere between Shene and the border with Scotland, Perkin Warbeck and Lambert Simnel had taken their Gyptian upbringing, and weaponized it. East Anglia was set to recover soon enough. Provided Richard went good on his promises to go into debt with the Americans. Richard had considered writing to the pope, then promptly decided that the papal state would be very interested in why England’s king was so suddenly the afore-named Prince killer, and refuse to recognize england as none other than a heretical state given over to loping monster-dogs and blood-sucking fops.

Canada and the rest of the empire were off limits. Ravka was well recovered enough to give them loans priced amicably enough that the interest wouldn’t cause the stewards and Richard’s council to have aneurysms en-masse. That would be messy. And bloodsoaked.

Jane would be the bride-price, a union between House Lantsov and House Beckett. Plantagenet. Jane corrected herself. She raised her head to look Nikolai in the eye and grinned again, showing her crooked and chipped teeth. He ran his hand through her hair and grimaced.

“She’s under our feet. It seems there’s a network of tunnels and cells and torture rooms, and-”

A missile silo, stocked with enough warheads to level America. She signed, watching Nikolai’s face like a hawk.

He swallowed nervously, and stilled his hand. “Prisoners?”

Dead, or some are alive. I know there was a scientist I was airmarking for Richard. Hopefully he wasn’t killed. Had a limp, you see. Sickly. Something in his lungs. He’s very good with something called Hextech.

“No idea what that means, though it sounds like what Fabrikators do.” Nikolai straightened, stretching his legs out to rest on an ottoman, and reached for a glass of tea. “Do you want anything? Tea? Kvas? Brandy?”

What I’d like is a nap. Jane thought, and rubbed at her head. There were bandages encircling her temples like a medical diadem, and she winced as her vision went spotty. Guess I was pretty banged up?

“You were nearly dead,” Nikolai replied, sipping his crystal-cut glass of tea. His eyes studied hers intimately, then cut away to stare at the soldier standing in the entrance to the tent, gripping his cap and wringing it between his hands.

#Threads 1984 #nikolai lantsov #Jane Beckett #wyn rambles #i take this as a compliment

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mean-scarlet-deceiver · 3 years ago

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For the episode thing: 'A Scarf For Percy'

A very good piece of work. Simply put, they took a story everyone* hates and turned it into an episode everyone* enjoys.

“Everyone,” of course, asterisked as an exaggeration. But as far as I’ve seen, these are the commonest opinions.

In particular, I have seen a lot of people bemoan the original RWS “Scarf,” both for its weird placement in the middle of Henry’s book and because it feels ‘too short and rushed.’

But I don’t hold with that, myself. I like how both Awdrys will mix up the theme of their books a bit one slightly “off-brand” story… and I actually kinda dig the austerity of the original ending, which goes like this:

Oof!

“No, go about your work for the rest of the day dirty and wearing a dunce cap.” FC1, you savage.

That said, Britt and David did some adaptational magic with this one! All the Thomas and Percy dialogue is non-Awdry, yet it’s really good (a theme during this era: I also thoroughly enjoy the non-Awdry bits in “Saved from Scrap,” “Toby’s Tightrope,” “Rusty to the Rescue,” “Escape,” and even, yes, “Tender Engines”—calm the eff down about what they cut out for one damn moment and just consider that Diesel/Gordon interaction on its own merits—it’s well done!)

They also serve up the only mention of Henry and James interaction outside of Christopher Awdry’s canon and it’s right on-point; they are chummy! (I like how they clash in the CA books too, but in between those clashes, surely they spend most of their time acting like this.)

Another change to the script is in playing up that all this baggage was for a “special train.” No need to cringe because this was long before TVS made “special” a dirty word. That TFC is planning a clothes change before a photoshoot really heightens the stakes when Percy comes crashing through like a dumbass (they said, affectionately). Also, the mention that Henry “was looking forward to pulling the special train”—can you believe that wasn’t actually from Henry the Green Engine? Where it would have been great at placing this story squarely after Henry’s successful rebuild??

Of course, beyond the script, the actual production is typically good work too. Lookit this opening set! Very few better "snow scenes" in the whole series than this one:

The coziness of that barrel fire! (Hilarious that all these people are here but they have to wait on the firelighter, though. Ah well.)

The glimpse into Hatt Hall here is a welcome change of pace. And, speaking of pace, no better way to build up a simple story than by having a character make and explain a good plan—that will never come to fruition! This is Fiction Writing 101 but certain later seasons, not to mention Christopher Awdry, never got this memo.

The “wreck” is awfully silly, but that’s fine because it’s a silly low-stakes incident. The literal jam on the Fat Controller model (even staining the eye!) always sent me into gigglefits as a kid:

On the other hand, I always felt terrible with the close-ups on poor silly Percy. *clutches stuffed Percy into tight hug*

More atmospheric shots. Lovely sets; that and the pace/tone make this a strong season opener. <3

Now, do I think the made a grave mistake, trying to re-create the “Thomas and Percy” bookends in this season, the way they did in Season 2? Yup. They shoulda changed it up.

Season 1 had the Thomas and Gordon dynamic bracketing the whole thing with a notable Henry focus throughout, Season 2 had Thomas and Percy (and Toby, I guess) dynamic bookending the beginning and end with a notable Edward focus throughout, and Season 3 to be fair did a strong Duck motif BUT we would be living in a richer T&F universe if they’d also had the gumption to move on to a different “framing device.” Thomas and James, Thomas and Daisy, Thomas and Anyone, hell if they’d really had balls they could have done a season where the bookends were the relationship between two characters who weren’t Thomas (!) i’m thinking Gordon and James, since this was also a big season for their dynamic… but.

Alas.

Yeah, I suppose given their protagonist-centered show they needed to have Thomas in there, but also insisting that his duologist would forever be Percy… ugh. Woe. The seeds of the show’s babyfication and formulaic-ness are right. here.

However, in the close-up view, taking the episode as a self-contained whole, it’s a fine effort. Lots of adaptational changes, most of them superbly done.

#i hit the image limit so couldn't show it #but one flaw is that the lighting is a little off/drab in parts of this one #strange in S3 when the rest of it is notable for its crispness and colour #also yes the immortal 'you've only got a small one!' IS an awdry original ;)#i know someone's wondering #dm me if you want the google drive y'all #i think this is one of the books on there...#ttte episode talk #ttte season 3 #a scarf for percy #chatter #ttte percy #the fat controller #ttte henry #HAVE I MENTIONED HOW ACTUALLY GREAT THOM AND PERCY'S LINES THEY WROTE FOR THE BEGINNING ARE #that percy is pluckily trying to make the best of it while thomas has his cynical 'and firelighters' asdfgfhgfhkgjljlh #superb #wonderfully on-point for both #(for a damn change)#ttte #this is ttte #thomas the tank engine #the railway series #ahhhh fork i forgot the most obvious thing though #angelis REALLY hadn't found his rhythm yet #bit awkward that #still if they had edited his odd pacing in post-production it would be unremarkable but fine!

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mrmustachious · 3 years ago

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Another Whumptober comes to a close and with it, it’s time to make my obligatory masterpost! Thanks to everyone who read, shared, commented, left kudos, and just generally gave me support this whole month! Whumptober is always something I enjoy doing, but it’s hard work so it’s always nice to know it’s appreciated and that others are enjoying my works just as much as I do. And for a third year in a row, I’m a completionist! Can we make that a forth next year?

Anyway, on with the masterpost. All warnings can be found within each fic. Links beneath the cut.

Day. Theme. Prompts. Summary.

Thunderbirds

1. All Trussed Up and Still Nowhere to Go. “You have to let go”. Virgil couldn't remember what had happened, but he knew one thing for sure. He wasn't going to let anyone hurt his brother.

2. Talking is Overrated. Choking. He was running out of time.

4. Trust Fall. “Do you trust me?”, Pushed. One idiotic mistake on behalf of the enemy means that Gordon is forced to work with someone he'd rather stay away from.

5. I’ve Got Red in My Ledger. Betrayal. What was supposed to be a fun date soon turns into something much more dire.

7. My Spidey-Sense is Tingling. Helplessness, Numbness. A rescue involving a chemical spill soon leads to some unexpected consequences.

8. Coughing Up a Lung. “Definitely just a cold”. Gordon woke up this morning suffering from a cold. At least, he thought it was just a cold...

9. Rumours of My Death Have Been Greatly Exaggerated. Presumed dead, Tears. They knew that in this dangerous world, there was a chance that one day they wouldn't all make it back alive. They just hoped that would never happen. Zombie Apocalypse AU.

10. Oops, I Did it Again. Hospital, Flare-up, Ice chips. Gordon knew that pushing himself during his recovery would only make things worse. That didn't stop him from doing it anyway.

11. Just Keep Swimming. Adrift, Drowning. A nice, relaxing day on Tracy Island leads to Gordon discovering something that shouldn't exist.

12. It’ll be Fun, They Said. Made to watch, Begging. A day out on the mainland, just the two of them. What could go wrong?

13. That’s Gonna Leave a Mark. Burns. When Penelope invited him to the opening night of a new musical, Gordon couldn't say no. Not if it meant spending the night with her. Nothing ever goes right with these two.

14. Under Pressure. Crush injuries. Watching a building collapse onto his little brother's head was not what Virgil had in mind for today.

16. On a Need to Know Basis. Recovery, Scars, Aftermath. A year has passed since the hydrofoil accident, and Gordon reflects on his recovery and all that has happened since the day that changed his life.

17. Field Care 101. Hemorrhage, Dread. It's Halloween and Alan has had a great idea at how to spend the evening: sneak out and explore the local haunted house. Oh, and bring Gordon along with him as well.

18. The Doctor is In. “Now smile for the camera”. A little brother taken, a message, and a photo. Will they find him in time?

19. Just a Scratch. Bleeding, Stabbing. They didn't think rescues could get any more dangerous, but they never thought about adding escaped criminals to the mix.

21. That’s Where the Blood’s Supposed to Be. Bleeding through the bandages, Blood-matted hair. A sea quake leads to a concussed brother and Virgil having to pilot a ship that isn't his.

22 + 30. They Made Me Do It + Digging Your Grave. Obsession + Left for dead, Ghosts. Gordon thought that in the years that had passed, he had finally put the Hydrofoil accident behind him. However, the ghosts of his past always found their way back to him.

23. You Break it, You Buy it. Ransom. A brother in exchange for their supplies, and a decision he was left to make to protect his family. When it came to survival, it was your life or theirs. Zombie Apocalypse AU.

25. Hide & Seek. Escape, Hiding. After being captured, Virgil and Gordon know that if they have any chance of surviving, they must find their own way to escape.

26. You Will Go Down With This Ship. Fallen. Gordon decides to take a walk around the island, but he never intended to end up stuck and injured in a hole with a storm looming overhead.

27. I’m Fine. I Prom... Passing out, Collapse. Gordon wasn’t aware he was falling until he crashed into the tiled floor.

29. All Work and No Play. Too weak to move. A freezer seemed like a suitable place to avoid the explosion, until he got locked inside.

31. Hurt & Comfort. Disaster zone, Prisoner. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Spideytorch

3. Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones But... “Who did this to you?”. When Johnny comes home all beaten and bloody, Peter takes it upon himself to patch him up.

Lumine

6. Touch and Go. Bruises, Hunger. It's been a long three weeks for Lumine in that cage.

A Quiet Place

15. Feed a Cold, Starve a Fever. Fever dreams. It had started with just a cold. Or, the events that led up to them being in town that day.

Achievement Hunter

20. Lost & Found. Trunk, Trapped under water. They knew the deal could go wrong, but they didn't prepare for Gavin to get thrown into the trunk of a car.

Tangled the Series

24. One Down Two to Go. Flashback. When a snowstorm hits as Varian is on his way to the castle, he is sent back to a very familiar low moment in his life.

RWBY

28. It’s Not Just in Your Head. Nightmares, Panic. It's not easy for Oscar to forget the events of the past.

#whumptober2021 #completionist #thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #spideytorch #spiderman #fantastic four #marvel #lumine #lumine webcomic #a quiet place #achievement hunter #tangled the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure #rwby #fic #let me know if a link doesn't work

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ngmn2002 · 10 months ago

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Let's welcome ??? Hanako!

Ch 1. Ouch, at times I think of how he initially wanted to just use her without any care for her death has me thinking how would she react if she discovered that. would she go "that was in the past. we're the children of today"

Ch 3. Was he aware who is behind the mess since the very start and/or a part of it himself? A duty that needs you to have a 'kannagi' with you? Tsukasa coded?

Ch 12 - 13.

...

Ch 22.

Ch 27.

Ch 51.

Ch 61.

Ch 70.

Ch 91.

Ch 92.

Ch 95.

Ch 96.

Ch 101 - Ch 103.

Ch 110.

For our reference I suppose.

Uhhh... thinking a bit about how things worked with him so far...

Hanako has a duty he is there to take care of, assuming his duty is connected to Tsukasa, whatever it might be, for it to be done, one of the paths to take is to destroy the 6? other yorishrios.

Going by that, he needed the kannagi (Nene), he waited for her to finally come to him... got her bound to him so he can finally set up a start, started with having her destroying the yorsirhios, starting with No.2's, and was using her up until a certain point. When he wanted to save her from her 'destined' death, the thing he knew will happen to her since the very start, upon having a 'change of heart', he altered his plans a bit to include saving her, too. Starting with plan A) 'trap' her in the p.p world 'forever'. That would mean he abandoned having the kanangi by his side to keep going any longer with the assumed path, did he have a backup plan in mind? Another way to achieve what he wants without having the kanngie any longer? When that 'failed', he moved to plan B) extend her lifespan by sacrificing another kannagi in her place, resulting in the severance happening. By that point, how did he want to keep going with his original duty, moving to the far shore all together?

The yorishrios included in that phase were... No.2's Tsukasa started the rumor thing, Hanako got Nene to destroy it, supposedly because No.2 went out of her way. No.5's Tsukasa moved Nene to go to him, Hanako ordered him to have his yorishiro destroyed. Semi No.1's Hanako objected on going after it just yet for it might be important later. No.4's Tsukasa started, Nene finished, it was her who asked for the yorishiro. Not really known if Hanako wanted it destroyed by then.

...

Then, we are back to the moral world, Tsukasa is there to make sure things go just right, Hanako seemed to go Tsukasa's way with No.6's?

Nene tells him about her life span situation, he is shocked to know her death comes with the destruction of the yorishiros all along. Nothing is like digging your grave step by step with your own hands while being moved by some people, one even was trying to save you using that one method that would ironically end you for good.

While Hanako knew from the very start Nene was fated to die, didn't he know 'how' and 'when' that would happen exactly (not just within the next year)? ..... Given the path he is taking won't come to an end without her, what if the reason of her death was a thing outside of school? He can't react or protect her when she is outside the school. He surely needed to her to finish things as fast as he could, before 'death' claims her however it's supposed to. Did he have this in mind?

No.1's is up, Hanako still doesn't want it destroyed it seems, same goes for... No7's.

Hmmm... what is stopping him is... 1) the want to save Tsukasa. 2) the want to save Nene.

It's double kill if Tsukasa got destroyed as the very last yorishiro and Nene dies next as a result.

So, where do we get Hanako backing down on the yorishiro plan, or starting to get away from it little by little? Starting from No.1's, in No.4's he was going to leave the whole thing, giving up on the kannagi, getting her back he worked around No.6's supposedly as Tsukasa puts it, didn't really have a problem with it destroyed the first time, then hearing Nene's death is within that method, he no longer goes after it, or the want of his yorishiro to be destroyed (ch 91) all together, No.7's voices the want to get destroyed after No.1's maybe also No.3's and Hanako clearly objects.

His want is to save both Tsukasa and Nene. Who are clearly so similar in this situation and setting.

Uhhh... things with him feel like: 1 0 1 0 1 0 ...

From all that we get... at times he gives up on destroying some yorishiros, gets back in the job on others, gives up on the whole plan at 2 points, ending up saving Nene alone, should we assume he has another way of saving Tsukasa under his sleeve?

Where do we stand now with him?

Right now I assume he clearly cares for No.1's for its use, No.7's is a big massive no-no, No.3's... ???. Nene's death is a big no-no.

Then... we reach he no longer wants to go that path at all. He no longer wants that wish of saving Nene or any other wish gained using that path.

So, if things stood in his way... of saving his 2 beloveds, he'll go all the way out. Hmm... will that be the point he'll bring his 'ideal' world views but reversed? The world itself, it rules or whatever won't mean anything. Let him stop holding back. Go berserk. Hmm... now that might be a view Tsukasa might enjoy? Even if he was met with Hanako stopping him from doing what he wants.

This boy did get out of his way, trying to fight the laws of the world at times, didn't he? With Nene's life and Tsukasa's I assume, given the clock deal I still wonder if he remembered something regaring his deal with and he is acting accordingly right now and his deal working as Hanako-san. The power... of... love... will anything be able to stand in its way? I need an unsealed Hanako! if it were to happen normally, please.

UHHH. Just thinking of a Hanako like this gives me chills.

In No.7's case, he is the only one able of destroying him, aside from Nene. For him to go NEVER, for Nene to refuse as well, for him to stand in the way of Tsukasa himself, even Nene's if some way or another was going to do it, those who will try to get rid of No.7's, anything at all.

In Nene's case, he'll stop whoever wants the yorishiros gone 'including Tsukasa here'... hmm... by not allowing her to do anything or taking them down so she is no longer 'lored' into doing that.

Now, now... who won't be so happy with that... one who clearly targets the 2 he is fighting for with all he has? One who clearly wants the opposite of what Hanako wants regarding these 2?

both in one chapter? what a witch. uh, recalling there is a green witch arc in Black Butler, that girl is everything nice.

Now, who is gonna be more selfish? Who will win? Him or her?

We need to also keep in mind, originally, all 7 are to be gone, judging by Nene's inescapable fated death, so.. she's supposedly to have her way and Amane will either be defeated or will have a change of heart by some powerful force leaving him no choice but to end Tsukasa (reminds me of how things ended with him with the double- suicide. that seemed to be a very last desperate option), if Amane is going to fight until the very end without giving up at all...

... he's trying to change the fate of 2 from how it's supposed to go. He has some struggling to do.

Hmm... I've always wondered why that girl left the 'why' is Nene's life span coming to an end is linked to the yorishiro being successfully destroyed and 'when' will death really claim her after that point.

Will it happen immediately after they are destroyed? Will she be like the 8th one somehow? Will she do something after getting to know the truth behind all she did with the situation from the start up until that point and choose said fate with her own hands? does that girl know about any of these details or just knows the mere fact of 'oh, your life ends when all the yorishiros are destoryed, how exactly, when exactly, I don't know'?

As she is not even sure about what will really happen once the yorishrios are destoryed, would she know what would come of Nene, who is linked to them for real?

Thinking about the picture in general, with Nene's 'fated' death, everything that happened from the start is supposed to happen, All the yorishiros are meant to be gone by the end. same goes for the severance, it's meant to happen so we'll have the twins with this 'future' we have now. it's all just a messy loop.

Which brings me to some things...

Tsuchigmori and his books. He allowed Kou to take a peek into Nene's he had her book with him like he had Amane's before. how curious, and I suppose he allowed himself to take a look at her 'future' and fate? after all, how would it make sense her book was with him, unless he got it when Kou came to him? which feels unlikely, he didn't go 'his ways' while sitting hearing Kou over and over again. it only makes sense he had it previously for some reason. connected to the kannagi as he called in his case. what has been bugging him regarding her? No.1 are in the picture once more...

If so, then he knows how she is going to 'die' and what will happen along with all that. He happened to ask her before to choose what she won't regret, on joining the mermaid regard, if that were to happen, won't it change her fate? She was meant to choose to stay with Hanako all along.

Now, if we assumed what the green witch said is true, about the world coming to an end with all kind of beings casing to exist... for that to happen the yorishiros must be gone, Nene's death is linked to that, she died, all is gone, won't what happen to the world be there in Nene's book?

Meaning, Tsuchigomori has some further knowledge on the whole situation yet... doesn't bother? Even with a serious matter as "the world end"?

His line of being able to alter one's future for once is interesting, I do wonder if it will come to play somehow, I don't think it was there for nothing, I think?

Thinking of Amane (Tsukasa as well?) changing his future before also gives me a comforting feeling of maybe he can do it again, with Nene's case? finally? 3rd time is a charm? His and Tsukasa's........ leave it to them?....... the 3 are linked actually.

I will confess back in ch 28-29, I followed Kou's attempt to see the 'future' closely to see whether it will change or not together with him. By the end of the chapter, it didn't exactly go as in the book, did it? It was said Nene will share her first kiss with Hanako back then but it happened later on. That thing was a bit twisted, since she did give him a cheek kiss, but was that what is meant by that or they 'share' one? So, I can take it as either there is hope her fate will slightly change in the 'future', or I will take Tsuchigomori's words of "If it's your fate, X is sure to find you some way or another." As she did 'share' her first with Hanako later on. I would like to go for the first option. A tiny hope I'm willing to hold onto.

Anyway, it's either Tsuchigomori doesn't care for the world's end if that was true, or something else is bound to happen.

Taking what Mirai did when she escaped, she moved the time of lots of things, including students and teachers forward. Only Nene was the one to 'die'. So, the world is fine for many years to come, but Nene is to be dead. It's either the green witch's assumption is wrong from the start regarding the world, or... it's the case, but will be reversed in a way, Nene will die somehow, maybe by having this 8th connection thing whatever it might be, or by choosing a noble sacrifice in some way to save all else. Isn't that the rule of a 'kanangi', a special kannagi.

In that setting, she is bound to die, but the world is safe.

Maybe things play in a similar way in her book to Tsuchigomori's knowledge? The world is not the issue, it'll be fine. Nene... Surely, she needs to choose the thing she won't regret, then. Our normal girl has one promising destiny.

Unless things are changed from how they are supposed to go.

Tsukasa. This boy..... he must know what he is bringing with the way he is going. Telling Amane to keep going with a thing to clearly be the exact opposite of what he wants, asking him how he wants to move inside the clock, ignoring Nene's complaints on her death. He is planning to grant Amane his ultimate wish, give Nene life ... that doesn't go well with what that one voiced about Nene or the world. Neither, especially Nene should exist according to what she said. Unless......... the inside of his head has a whole different thing playing in mind.

... the world will go some other way from what she described once all yorishiros are gone. And... he'll make sure to grant Nene with life and change her fate in some way. So, she can live a nice happy real life with Amane. Again, Tsu please... include yourself in this happiness.

So... No.1 (who don't really show any kind of resistance so far despite the serious situation I wonder about Mirai's surprise regarding Nene dying before.. but she is a stupid mouse so... maybe Kaku has it), No.5 (who must know somethign about the 'future' and voices 'I'm not ready to give up on myself for a 'human', I have a life ahead of me, which doesn't add up with the world end thingy), and No.7's yorsihrio (who... who... who is TSUKASA)... are ones to pay attention to.

Anyway, after all that... we have these...

What will happen fo real?

Adding this, too... for fun.

Ahem, just adding... I assume as long as Nene is still little... we're safe from the thing of ' her end/whatever world thingy' coming so soon.

Imagine if next chapter she is back to normal. Haha. I do wonder if having her becoming little isn't out of nothing. Imagine little Nene going back in time and meeting the twins/any of them somehow at some point in time?

...

I still didn't shower Tsukasa with new flowers today. I must keep the flowers in his coffen fresh so he can sleep safe and sound. You're slowing me down.

I know that can't be. since Tsu is already past that phase and outside of the boudary by that point. this is a joke only. let me laugh the pain away, Amane.

Although, it's true, Tsukasa is his purpose.

#wow. how did a post starting with a joke turn this serious? that's the mystery I want to discover.#I feel sorry for whoever will end up 😵‍💫 after reading that #cuz I am.too

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wordsablaze · 3 years ago

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nightwhump masterlist

All Trussed Up day one, where dick disappears from comms and the others eventually find him tied up in a painfully unconventional way…

Talking Is Overrated day two, where the worst part of them being kidnapped is dick and damian being unable to talk to each other…

Sticks And Stones day three, where jason’s offhand comments end up hurting dick far more than he’s willing to admit...

Trust Fall day four, where damian’s improvised escape route is creative but also a literal nightmare for dick…

Red In My Ledger day five, where jason realises a little too late that dick isn’t an intruder breaking into his safehouse…

Touch And Go day six, where dick realises there’s no way to fit back into his life after returning from spyral...

Spidey Sense day seven, where it’s lucky for dick that jason arrives just in time to lend a hand when he’s out of sorts...

Coughing Up A Lung day eight, where dick won’t admit he’s ill but his brothers know better and find out anyway…

Rumours Of My Death day nine, where dick and jason end up sharing a messy but much-needed emotional moment in a graveyard...

Oops I Did It Again day ten, where dick doesn’t take care of himself but this time it’s fine because his dad is there to…

Just Keep Swimming day eleven, where dick’s theory that yacht parties are more trouble than they’re worth is confirmed…

It’ll Be Fun They Said day twelve, where dick and tim’s brotherly bonding night takes a nefarious turn for the worse…

Leave A Mark day thirteen, where it's just dick's luck to be caught up in an exploding building...

Under Pressure day fourteen, where dick pays the price for having too much faith in his immoral colleagues…

Feed A Cold day fifteen, where nobody has any idea how to handle dick being dosed with fear toxin…

Need To Know Basis day sixteen, where damian has zero tolerance for dick hiding injuries from him…

Field Care 101 day seventeen, where jason is far from okay with guns when they’re being used against dick...

The Doctor Is In day eighteen, where jason saves dick from drowning but it’s still a terrifying experience for everyone….

Just A Scratch day nineteen, where dick forgets he’s allowed to be vulnerable and struggles with patching himself up...

Lost And Found day twenty, where dick tries his best not to break down when he’s trapped with only his own company…

Supposed To Be day twenty one, where jason has to sacrifice his hoodie in order to get dick to accept his help…

They Made Me Do It day twenty two, where dick can’t fight against magic and is forced through an existential crisis…

You Break It You Buy It day twenty three, where it’s damian who gets the message that someone is using dick as leverage…

One Down day twenty four, where jason is fast but not fast enough to reach dick before his time runs out…

Hide And Seek day twenty five, where a mission leaves dick and tim playing a not-so-fun version of hide and seek…

Down With This day twenty six, where dick’s gala experience is ruined by uncomfortable rumours about him…

I’m Fine day twenty seven, where damian is conflicted about dick endangering himself to protect him…

Just In Your Head day twenty eight, where endless nightmares threaten to steal the last of dick's sanity...

All Work And No Play day twenty nine, where the downside of dick always helping others catches up to him…

Digging Your Grave day thirty, where dick somehow finds himself buried in guilt, panic, and the ground….

Hurt And Comfort day thirty one, where dick tries to deal with things alone but his family kindly decides to intervene…

#masterlist #whumptober gets its own masterlist bc why not

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notmrskennedy · 4 years ago

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Whatever You Need

(Chip x Fem!Reader)

A/N - am I little in love with Chip? Yes, but who isn’t? So please enjoy my hot take on our lovely Mr. Chip Taylor

Summary - a university professor meets a very adorable maintenance guy ...

Warnings - a pinch of swearing and two teaspoons of mentioning gross things

Word Count - 3k

-------

There’s a thin line, she realises as she rushes into the lecture hall, between anthropological research and grave robbing. When you’re on loan to the federal government and a water pipe bursts at a cemetery, there isn’t much to do other than say, ‘yes sir Mr. FBI agent, I will gladly slop through three feet of mud and water, digging through graves!’

She’s ten minutes late to her lecture. Ten minutes long enough that the TA’s are snickering. Ten minutes long enough that the entire class looks horrified that their Anthropology 101 professor is covered head to toe in dried mud, grass, and whatever else could be found in destroyed 19th century coffins.

She sets her bag down heavily on the desk and startles everyone in the room. Sans the maintenance guy. He’s tinkering with vent at the foot of door. He’s mostly a faded ball cap and a distressed jean jacket, one arm shoved up the vent. She can’t imagine why someone would have their arm up a vent, but god only knows why the university would ask someone to.

A moment passes where she unabashedly stares. How did she miss him? Was she in that much of a hurry that she nearly tripped on the guy and didn’t look back? And what the hell is in that vent?

The TA’s snicker behind her back, sobering up when she shoots them a half deadly look. She’s covered in mud, not lenience. She half hopes Maintenance Guy will turn around—she has a desperate, yet beguiling feeling he’s hot. But what she’s really curious for is what’s stuck up that vent.

And he doesn’t turn around—his complete disregard of her is a 180 from the rapt attention she’s receiving from her students—until she’s frustratedly brushing dirt off her face. Pulling grass from her hair.

“Let me just start with,” she begins, pulling an earth worm out of her sleeve, “if the federal government asks you to sort through bodies in a flooded cemetery, tell them no. And despite how much fun grave digging can be, there’s a thin line and that line is punctuated by whether they’re arresting me or not.”

Maintenance Guy snorts, head turned to beam up at her. She’s almost taken aback by how bright he seems. How his grin puts the sun in its place. He looks honest, grease stains and all.

There’s something to be said about the fact she’s studying his bone structure instead of his fleshy bits. She can’t tell you what colour his eyes are, but his zygomatic bones are killer.

“Professor?” a TA prompts, ineffectively holding back their own knowing smiles.

“Thanks for reminding me,” she replies, digging through her bag to hand out a stack of student essays. “Pass these back, please?”

Tick one for the professor.

“And as per usual,” she announces, leaning back against the white board, “let’s do our daily recap. And as you know, these questions can be used to aid in exams.”

She sneaks a glance at Maintenance Guy, pulling his arm out from the vent. He grumbles, digs through his toolbox, and grabs a screwdriver. Whatever is in that vent is stuck.

Once the rustling stops, she says, “Okay, question one: if your professor—that would be me for those of us who are new—were to be one of, say, five wives with one husband, it’s called—?”

“Polygamy!” a student shouts from the front row.

“You’re right, but you aren’t correct,” she says, standing up straight. “Polygamy is the practice of having more than one spouse. Polygyny—with an ’n’—is multiple wives to one husband. Examples of the culture are Kenya’s Logoli and other Abalulya sub ethnic groups.”

She writes it on the board for spelling, and glances over to see Maintenance Guy paused in his excavation of the vent. He’s paying better attention than her students. It’s sort of sweet and she stifles her soft giggle at the thought.

He’s ridiculously tall and she takes a moment to appreciate just how long his femurs have to be.

“Question two!” she announces and finds even the most hungover kids forcing their attention on her. “If your professor were to marry five men all at once, that’s called—?”

“Polyandry,” a student pipes up from the back. “A lot of times it’s fraternal marriage.”

“Examples of a culture that practices—”

Pop!

Maintenance Guy rolls back with the force. His knees are still bent from where they’d been used as leverage against the vent, a wall of debris bursting into his face. In one gloved hand was a dead raccoon, while the other desperately brushed bits of the vent’s clog—a raccoon’s nest—from his eyes.

“Oh Jesus,” she mutters, jumping into action. She picks up a garbage bag from his toolbox and nets the dead animal from his hand. It’s a pretty tame find, though she’s used to human remains which tended to be—gooier.

With the animal tucked up, she hauls Maintenance Guy to a sitting position, frantically cleaning the odds and ends of the nest out of his eyes. She steals his ball cap as she whispers kind words to him, further trying to shake the bits of insulation out of his shaggy hair.

The class is in a terrible chatter behind them. Not that it matters. Not with Maintenance Guy’s eyes opened and his hands gently clutching onto her wrists as she brushes the last bits of insulation off his cheeks. His eyes are definitely hazel up this close.

“Thanks,” he croaks, still gently latched onto her hands.

“It’s no problem,” she smiles back, absently studying the rest of his face. He’s got the kind of skull she’d love to see on her table—well, maybe once he’s died of his own accord because he seems rather sweet. Confused and concerned, but…sweet. “Don’t worry. I’ve had much worse flung all over me. You don’t much get used to it.”

He smiles, barely chuckling. Coughs up a bit of insulation.

“You might want to see a doctor. Insulation in the lungs is…what gets you a one way ticket to my lab.” She grins at her own terrible joke. His eyes are too close and she can’t help but wish for a skeleton to be looking back at her. She understands those. People are too…gooey.

“I’m Chip,” he offers, silently asking her for help to his feet. She does, offering her own name in return. He mulls over it, like it’s a fine wine sitting on his tongue. “Professor Y/N. Thanks again.”

She shrugs, mouth suddenly too dry. Heart beating too fast. Jesus, human interaction was going to kill her. There was no job to distract her from Chip’s strong hands. There were no bodies to keep Chip’s genuine gaze off of her. There wasn’t anything to distract from seeing Chip as so pleasantly human.

“Want the raccoon as a consolation prize?” he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck with a newly de-gloved hand. There’s something satisfying about answering questions that aren’t meant as questions. Especially ones that showed just how weird she really was. The questions that were relationship testers—like can we be friends if I tell you that I keep carrion beetles as pets?

“Actually, sure.” Chip’s jaw drops just slightly open. He has cute teeth. “Dissection is a key part of the anthropological process, forensic or not. Let’s see just what this raccoon was up to. Eh, class?”

Every single one a deer in the headlights, the class goes eerily silent. She winks at Chip and announces again. “Don’t you guys want to see what I do for a living? I mean human remains are much cooler but I think we can settle for a mostly solid raccoon carcass.”

A TA clutches at her stomach. “Professor, never say that again.”

The professor just laughs, absentmindedly taking a soft grip on Chip’s shoulder. “Don’t worry everyone, Chip’s going to keep the raccoon. At least I’m not making the final a practical examination. I do have access to laboratory rats—“

The entire class clambered forward, hoping to dispel the idea and the evil smirk off their professor’s lips. She just beamed back at Chip, dropping her hand. She expected the same horrified expression of her students, but he seemed, dare she say, impressed.

That wide eyed shock creeps onto her face. Because who would risk being impressed by a professor covered in dirt from grave digging who offered to dissect a raccoon at 10 AM on a Tuesday?

Apparently, it’s this guy. Must have a thing for crazy women.

Chip shakes his head, bites his lip, and turns to stoop for his raccoon trophy. “I’ll, uh, have them send someone for the nest. I—I guess I have to do something with the raccoon, if you’re sure you don’t want it?”

She just shakes her head, failing miserably at keeping her cherry red tint to herself. “No, no. Maybe next time.”

“Next time,” he repeats, rather sadly, to himself. Though, as he turns to leave, it feels more like a promise.

The worst part about knowing Chip is that she seems to see him everywhere. Rushing between lecture halls? There he is, doing his best to fix a fountain. Getting escorted away by federal agents? There he is, sympathetically waving as he walks across the quad. Leading a group of students outside to lecture on the green? There’s Chip, fixing a sprinkler.

She’s had exactly three times in the last six months to talk to him. All under three minutes.

But today, today she’s running late from court. Grand jury testimony had gone fine, until Agent—God, she’ll never learn his name—WhatsHisFace tried to ask her out again. Because what a turn on talking about the mutilation of a hacked up college girl was.

It also didn’t help that, outside of the court room half an hour before, she was doodling what she thought Chip’s skull would look like.

So she can’t help but storm into her postage stamp of a classroom, dropping her package on the desk with a gentle, yet annoyed huff. Her 12 students, all seniors in the Anthropology department, raised their eyebrows at her. At her court getup.

She’d missed those formative lessons at 13 on how to be a proper lady. And even if she had had them, it probably wouldn’t have stuck. Besides, what she wore into the field had to be more than acceptable for the university’s standards. The heels and pink blouse of today were extremely rare and uncomfortable.

“Whoa, Professor Y/N!” Reese Rosebeck calls out, dramatically twitching in his chair, “Is that really you? You look hot!”

“Ha, ha. That’s a very coherent thought for the kid who wrote the worst paper I’ve ever read,” she deadpans. She relents when she sees his dramatic puppy dog pout. “Though, I do have to say I enjoyed you’re use of colloquial slang. Accentuated your point very cleverly.”

“As long as I impress the hottest professor on campus, I’m alright.”

There was a quiet laugh from the back of the room, and she found her eyes snapping to the hunched over back of none other than, Maintenance Guy Chip Taylor. He’s just quietly listening—as always—tinkering with the radiator pipes in the back of the room. She’s half thankful. It is starting to get cold.

“Hey, Chip!” she chirps and the poor thing bangs his head on the pipes. He waves her off in a flash, hand extended wildly above the other desks in the room. Reese chuckles to himself, dragging Lionel with him.

She kicks her heels off behind her desk, straightening herself once she’s back on stable ground. She’s about three apples short of a pie to wear heels for more than six consecutive minutes. The female students give her rather sympathetic looks as she begins to roll her feet and open her package.

She pauses halfway in. Jeez, she forgot about—“Hey, Chip?”

Like a meerkat, he pops up with a dazzling soft grin.

“Are you going to call the cops on me?”

“Excuse me?”

Her students’ eyes bounce back and forth between the pair, following the invisible tennis match. The professor settles on a rather tired, “Are you going to call the cops? The last person who attended lecture that didn’t know me, called the cops because of a demonstration. So, are you?”

“No.” He shakes his head and she wonders if he’s a little too trusting. He’s honest as he leans back down to continue futzing with the pipes. He’s genuine in every interaction they have. Does she really deserve the kind of trust he’s offering? To a crazy woman who’s asked if he’ll call the cops on her?

She shakes the thought away. These 12 students—tangible students—need her focus. At least for the next few minutes. She pulls six human skulls from her package, all neatly wrapped up in protective glass cases. She places those on the table along with a box of gloves.

“Two people to a skull,” she announces and runs through the rest of the directions. “Don’t forget your gloves. You too, Ms. Figg.”

Jamie Figg’s fierce blush is long forgotten once they are all set to work. Tactile learning is the best way to learn in her opinion, expressly in advanced classes like these. It also gives her a moment to rest her brain—even if it’s a few minutes before the onslaught of necessary questions.

She settles into an unused section of chairs and desks, smiling absently at the way all of the kids have squeezed themselves around the one table. She misses the days when she was young and new, ready to find her own legs to stand on.

Chip’s not quiet and she watches him with too much adoration as he sits down next to her. It’s not all too unexpected nor uninvited. He smells like grease and good cologne up close, mixed up with that dangerous combination of hazel eyes and delicious bone structure.

Chip smirks, drawing her out of her smidge of staring. “See anything good?”

“You have excellent bones,” she mutters, tracing a finger against her own cheek instead of his. “Prominent zygomatic bones and well balanced supraorbital margins. But the, um, the rest of you is—is nice too.”

Oh great one, Y/N. Perfect. You’re such a fucking creep.

Chip just smiles. The kind of soft upturn of the lips and dip of the head that means he took it like the compliment it was meant as. He runs a rather shakey hand through his hair, bringing his gaze back up to do his own staring. She wonders what he sees about her. She’s sure he doesn’t see bone structure like she does, but does her flesh give away something she doesn’t know about?

Chip wrings his hand down behind his neck and she sees it. That little bit of something that brews between his bones and his epidermis. The fuzzy sort of thing that sits behind his eyes. The one she’s seen in war veterans, cops, and now the university’s maintenance man.

And as if he’s just a skull on her table, she states ever so eloquently, “You look like the kind of guy who’s seen some shit, Chip.”

And as if she’s accepted his offer for the raccoon all over again, he beams. He further turns away from her, shaking his head, and she follows his eye line to the students not so subtly glancing over at the pair every three seconds. The dozen are still chattering on, examining the skulls in their hands with rapt fascination.

Chip, despite all the non-threatening, sensitive, idiot boy vibes, looks over the skulls with more recognition than she cares to admit she sees. Most people don’t look at skulls like they’re familiar. Like the idea of them being formerly attached to a living person doesn’t bother them.

Again, looks like he’s seen some shit.

“Are they real?”

She nods, taking a tiny chance and pressing their shoulders together. She’s not upset to say that Chip carries very warm skin on his lovely skeletal structure. She wipes the blush off her cheeks and answers, “From the university’s collection. I’ve done a lot of travelling, lots of excavations, lots of grave robbing—sometimes the university doesn’t miss the skulls of the not-so-recently deceased.”

“You’re very—“

“Creepy? Weird?”

She hopes that Chip is too stupid to hear the insecurity bleed through. That he’s too stupid to look at her the way he is. Instead, he squints as if he can’t risk choosing the wrong adjective, so the words inch through his brain. All carefully refined into his choice of, “…Intelligent.”

His takes her hand in his to accentuate his point. She nearly stops breathing.

“You’ve forgotten more this morning than I’ll ever know,” he whispers. She doesn’t know how to look at him without letting him see the hearts in her eyes. Her fingers tighten against his. “I’d never call you creepy.”

She swallows, fighting against the rock in her throat. It wasn’t often people paid her any compliments, especially after she’d let her mouth run for more than five minutes in a one-on-one conversation.

And as if she isn’t already trying to desperately clutch onto her frayed nerves, he confidently pulls a slightly creased business card from his shirt pocket. Offers it to her irritatedly hesitant fingers.

“I do home visits, you know,” he says, putting more weight into where their skin touches. “So, if you’re dishwasher breaks or something, give me—give me a call.”

Chip squeezes her fingers one more time, double checks she’s holding onto the business card, and walks back for his toolbox. Only when the classroom door is closing behind him does Reese shout out, “Oh-ho-ho! Professor’s getting some!”

“Get back to your skull before I use yours as a soup bowl,” she snaps, though she can’t hide the cherries in her cheeks as she thumbs over the business card. Chip Taylor. Whatever you need.

#chip #chip taylor #68 kill #spencer reid #chip x reader #mgg #mgg fluff #reader insert #fem reader

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siderealdei · 3 years ago

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Whumptober 2021 Masterpost

I have done it! As of now, all of my Whumptober 2021 pieces have been posted to AO3!!

Direct links, sorted by fandom and relation to each other, below the cut. Mind the tags and warnings both here and on AO3, and read responsibly.

Boku no Hero Academia: my spidey-sense is tingling - Day 7: helplessness; ‘stockpiling’ isn’t the first quirk Izuku unlocks from One for All.

just keep swimming - Day 11: adrift, drowning; Izuku finishes the book Hawks gave Endeavor and his interns.

on a need to know basis - Day 16: scars, recovery, aftermath; Izuku and Shouto talk about Izuku’s scars.

digging your grave - Day 30: ghosts; Izuku has a discussion with the vestiges in One for All.

Naruto: steps to peace series - Days 1 (barbed wire, bound), 4 (taken hostage), 6 (bruises, touch-starved, hunger), 14 (force), 20 (solitary confinement), 23 (pursuit), and 31 (trauma, prisoner); Tobirama is taken hostage by the Uchiha pre-Founding and Madara sees a chance for peace. Eventually.

talking is overrated - Day 2: gagged; post-Founding, Izuna Lives AU; Tobirama is rescued from missing-nin after suffering a permanent injury.

sticks and stones may break my bones... - Day 3: taunting, insults; pre- and post-Founding, Izuna Lives AU; how the people around Tobirama view him.

i’ve got red in my ledger - Day 5: betrayal, misunderstanding; post-Founding, Izuna Lives AU; Madara and his team run into Konoha’s first missing-nin, Tobirama, once of the Senju Clan.

coughing up a lung - Day 8: coughing up a lung, pneumothorax; Izuna Lives AU; Tobirama’s war injury acts up during peace negotiations with the Uchiha. oops, i did it again - Day 10: flare-up, ice chips; sequel to Day 8; Tobirama’s mistreatment of his own health brings some people closer together while temporarily derailing peace talks.

rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated - Day 9: presumed dead, (blind) rage, tears; pre-Founding; Hashirama mourns his brother’s (presumed) death.

it’ll be fun, they said - Day 12: torture, made to watch; post-Founding, Izuna Lives AU; Madara and Tobirama are captured by Kumo-nin who really want the sharingan. i’m fine, i prom... - Day 27: passing out, collapse; sequel to Day 12; Tobirama and Madara escape their captors.

that’s gonna leave a mark - Day 13: cauterization; post-Founding, Izuna Lives AU; Tobirama and Izuna have some trouble on a mission. feed a cold, starve a fever - Day 15: delirium, fever dreams; sequel to Day 13; Tobirama suffers some delusions.

field care 101 - Day 17: dread; Generation Swap; Madara, Tobirama, and Mito run into a terrifying foe.

now smile for the camera - Day 18: “now smile for the camera”; pre-Founding, one-sided Madara/Tobirama; Madara’s a little obsessed. they made me do it - Day 22: obsession, possession; sequel to Day 18; Madara collects what’s his.

just a scratch - Day 19: bleeding; pre-Founding; Tobirama runs into a worshipper of Jashin.

that’s where the blood’s supposed to be - Day 21: blood-matted hair; CW: rape discussion; Tobirama faces down some bloodline thieves.

one down, two to go - Day 24: revenge; pre-Founding; Tobirama hunts down the people who killed his brothers.

hide & seek - Day 25: hiding; pre-Founding, Red Eyes are Sacred AU; Tobirama grows up hiding his red eyes.

you will go down with this ship - Day 26: fallen; CW: (implied) Major Character Death; Tobirama is dying and doesn’t appreciate the person who shows up in his last moments.

it’s not just in your head - Day 28: nightmares, panic; post-Founding, Izuna Lives AU, No Kaguya AU, Madara Wins AU; NSFWhump; sometimes, the veil holding the multiverse in place grows a little thin.

all work and no play - Day 29: overworked; post-Founding, Izuna Lives AU; a day in the life of Tobirama after Konoha’s founding.

#whumptober2021 #completionist #naruto #my hero academia #fic #rape tw #nsfwhump #my writing #my fic #bnha #boku no hero academia

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way-down-meme-town · 5 years ago

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Hadestown Act II Sentence Meme

Under the cut you will find 179 lyrics from the musical Hadestown to use for your roleplaying purposes! Have fun!

Our Lady of the Underground 1. “I don’t know about you, boys, but if you’re like me then hanging around this manhole is bringing you down.”

2. “Cabin fever is a-settin’ in. You’re stir crazy.”

3. “I can give you what it is you crave, a little something from the good old days.”

4. “I got the wind right here in a jar.”

5. “I got the rain on tap at the bar.”

6. “I got sunshine up on the shelf.”

7. “Our lady of the underground!”

8. “Wanna know my name? I’ll tell you my name.”

9. “Let me guess, it’s the little things you miss.”

10. “Maybe you’re looking for some stronger stuff.”

11. “I got a sight for the sorest eye. When was the last time you saw the sky?”

12. “Wipe away your tears. I know how you feel. I can see you’re blinded by the sadness of it all.”

13. “Look a little closer and there’s a crack in the wall.”

14. “You want the moon? Yeah, I got her too.”

15. “A little moonshine ain’t no sin.”

16. “Tell my husband to take his time!”

17. “What the boss don’t know, the boss don’t mind.”

Way Down Hadestown (Reprise) 18. “The deal is signed?”

19. “I did what I had to do.”

20. “They cane hear, but they don’t care.”

21. “No one has a name down here.”

22. “They can look but they don’t see.”

23. “Your eyes will look that way someday.”

24. “You kissed your little life goodbye.”

25. “Hades laid his hands on you and gave you everlasting life.”

26. “Your place on the assembly line replaces all your memories.”

27. “What do you mean I’ll look like that?”

28. “That’s what it looks like to forget.”

29. “You see, it’s like I said before. A lot can happen behind closed doors.”

30. “A lot of souls have gotta die.”

31. “A lot of spirits gotta break, to make the underworld go round.”

Flowers 32. “What I wanted was to fall asleep, close my eyes, and disappear like a petal on a stream, a feather on the air.”

33. “I trembled when he laid me out. You won’t feel a thing he said, when you go down.”

34. “Nothing gonna wake you now.”

35. “Dreams are sweet, until they’re not.”

36. “Men are kind, until they aren’t.”

37. “Flowers bloom until they rot and fall apart.”

38. “Is anybody listening? I open my mouth and nothing comes out.”

39. “Flowers. I remember fields of flowers.”

40. “I remember someone by my side, turned his face to mine, and then I turned away into the shade.”

41. “You, the one I left behind, if you ever walk this way, come and find me lying in the bed I made.”

Come Home With Me (Reprise) 42. “I called your name before.”

43. “Whatever happened, I’m to blame.”

44. “How’d you get beyond the wall?”

45. “I sang a song so beautiful stones wept and they let me in. I can sing us home again.”

Papers (Intro) 46. “I don’t’ think we’ve met before. You’re not from around here, son.”

47. “Don’t know who the hell you are, but I can tell you don’t belong.”

48. “Go back to where you came from. You’re on the wrong side of the fence.”

49. “This poor boy raised up his voice with his heart out on his sleeve.”

50. “I’m not goin’ back alone. I came to take her home!”

51. “Who the hell do you think you are? Who the hell you think you’re talkin’ to?”

52. “She couldn’t go anywhere even if she wanted to.”

53. “You’re not from around here, son. If you were, then you would know that everything and everyone in Hadestown I own.”

54. “I only buy what others choose to sell.”

55. “You didn’t know? She signed the deal herself and now she belongs to me.”

56. “Everybody gather round! Everybody look and see what becomes of trespassers with no respect for property.”

Nothing Changes 57. “Why the struggle? Why the strain?”

58. “Why make trouble? Why make scenes?”

59. “Why go against the grain, why swim upstream?”

60. “It ain’t no use. You’re bound to lose.”

61. “What’s the purpose of a man? Just to turn his eyes away?”

62. “What’s the use of his backbone if he never stands upright?”

63. “Who are they to say what the truth is anyway?”

64. “The ones who tell the lies are the solemnest to swear.”

65. “The ones who load the dice always say the toss is fair.”

66. “The ones who deal the cards are the ones who take the tricks with their hands over their hearts while we play the game they fix.”

67. “The ones who speak the words always say it is the last.”

68. “No answer will be heard to the question no one asks.”

69. “I believe our answer matters more than anything they say.”

70. “I believe if there is still a will, then there is still a way.”

71. “I believe in us together more than anyone alone.”

72. “I believe that with each other, we are stronger than we know.”

73. “I believe that we are many. I believe that they are few, and it isn’t for the few to tell the many what is true.”

74. “Is it true? Is it true what they say?”

How Long 75. “What are you afraid of? He’s just a boy in love.”

76. “Have a drink, why don’t you?”

77. “I’ve had enough. He loves that girl!”

78. “He has the kind of love for her that you and I once had.”

79. “The girl means nothing ot me.”

80. “All of the sorrow won’t fit in his chest. It just burns like a fire in the pit of his chest.”

81. “Nothing comes of wishing on stars.”

82. “Nothing comes of the songs people sing, however sorry they are.”

83. “Give them a piece, they’ll take it all.”

84. “Show them a crack, they’ll tear down the wall.”

85. “Lend them an ear and the kingdom will fall.”

86. “The kingdom will fall for a song.”

87. “What does he care for the logic of kings? The laws of your underworld?”

88. “It is only for love that he sings.”

89. “He sings for the love of a girl.”

90. “You and your pity don’t fit in my bed.”

91. “How long? Just as long as I am your wife.”

92. “It’s true the earth must die, but then the earth comes back to life and the sun must go on rising.”

Chant (Reprise) 93. “Why do we turn away when our brother is bleeding?”

94. “Why do we build the wall and then call it freedom?”

95. “If we’re free, tell me why I can’t look in my brothers eye?”

96. “Young man, got to hand it to you. Guess you don’t scare easy, do ya?”

97. “It seems your song made quite a strong impression on my wife.”

98. “It takes more than singin’ songs to keep a woman in your arms.”

99. “Take it from a man no longer young if you want to hold a woman, hang a chain around her throat made of many carat gold.”

100. “If I raise my head, could I change my fate?”

101. “If I raise my voice, could I change the way it is?”

102. “Why do we turn away instead of standing with him?”

103. “Why are we digging our own graves for a living?”

104. “If we’re free, tell me why we can’t even stand upright?”

105. “If we’re free, tell me when we can stand with our fellow man?”

106. “Young man, I was young once too. Sang a song of love like you.”

107. “I too was left behind, turned on one too many times. Now I sing a different song.”

108. “You hear that heavy metal sound? The symphony of Hadestown.”

109. “Young man you can sing your ditty. I conduct the electric city.”

110. “Give me one more song before I send you to the great beyond where nobody can hear you singing.”

111. “Sing a song for me.”

112. “Make the king feel young again. Sing for an old man.”

Epic III 113. “I know how it was because he was like me, a man in love with a woman.”

114. “You didn’t know how and you didn’t know why, but you know what you wanted to take her home.”

115. “You saw her alone there, against the sky. It was like she was someone you’d always known.”

116. “It was like you were holding the world when you held her, like yours were the arms that the whole world was in.”

117. “There were no words for the way that you felt so you opened your mouth and you started to sing.”

118. “What has become of the heart of that man now that the man is king?”

119. “What has become of the heart of that man now that he has everything?”

120. “The more he has, the more he holds. The greater the weight of the world on his shoulders.”

121. “See how he labors beneath the load? Afraid to look up and afraid to let go.”

122. “He’s grown so afraid that he’ll lose what he owns, but what he doesn’t know is that what he’s defending is already gone.”

123. “Where is the treasure inside of your chest?”

124. “Where is the man with his arms outstretched to the woman he loves with nothing to lose?”

Epic III 125. “This poor boy brought the world back into tune is what he did.”

Promises 126. “You take me home with you! Let’s go! Let’s go right now!”

127. “It’s a long road. It’s a long walk back into the cold and dark. Are you sure you wanna go?”

128. “I have no ring for your finger.”

129. “I have no bouquet table to lay.”

130. “I have no bed of feathers.”

131. “I can’t promise you fair sky above, can’t promise you kind road below, but I’ll walk beside you, love.”

132. “Don’t need no ring for my finger, just need a steady hand to hold.”

133. “Don’t promise me fair sky above. Don’t promise me kind road below. Just walk beside me, love.”

134. “He’ll let us go. Look at him, he can’t say no.”

135. “I don’t know where this road will end, but I’ll walk it with you hand in hand.”

Word to the Wise 136. “Damned if you don’t, damned if you do. Whole damn nation’s watching you.”

137. “Men are fools, men are frail. Give them the rope and they’ll hang themselves.”

His Kiss, The Riot 138. “With his kiss, the riot starts.”

139. “All my children came here poor, clamoring for bed and board. Now what do they clamor for? Freedom.”

140. “Have I made myself their lord just to fall upon the sword of some paupers minor chord?”

141. “Who will lead them? Who lays all our best-laid plans?”

142. “Who makes work for idle hands?”

143. “Only one thing to be done, let them go but let there be some term to be agreed upon, some condition.”

144. “Every coward seems courageous in the safety of a crowd.”

145. “Bravery can be contagious when the band is playing loud.”

146. “Nothing makes a man so bold as a woman’s smile and a hand to hold.”

Wait For Me (Reprise, Intro) 147. “Well, the good news is he said that you can go.”

148. “You can walk, but it won’t be like you planned.”

149. “It’s a trial. Do you trust each other? Do you trust yourselves?”

150. “If you want to walk out of hell, you’re gonna have to prove it before gods and men.”

Wait For Me (Reprise) 151. “The dog you really got to dread is the one that howl inside your head. It’s him whose howling drives men mad and a mind to its undoing.”

152. “Show the way so we can see.”

153. “Show the way the world could be.”

154. “If you can do it, so can she. If she can do it, so can we.”

155. “How about you and I? Are we gonna try again?”

156. “Who are you to lead her? Who are you to lead them?”

157. “Who are you to think that you can hold your head up higher than your fellow man?”

158. “Between your ears, behind your eyes, that is the path to Paradise. Likewise, the road to ruin.”

Doubt Comes In 159. “Doubt comes in. The wind is changing.”

160. “Who am I? Where do I think I’m going?”

161. “Doubt comes in.”

162. “Who am I to think that she would follow me into the cold and dark again?”

163. “Are you listening? I am right here and I will be to the end.”

164. “The coldest night of the coldest year comes right before the spring.”

165. “Who am I against him?”

166. “Why would he let me win?”

167. “Who am I to think that he wouldn’t deceive me just to make me leave alone?”

168. “Is this a trap that’s being laid for me?”

169. “Is this a trick that’s being played on me?”

170. “I used to see the way the world could be, but now the way it is is all I see.”

171. “You are not alone. I am right behind you and I have been all along.”

Road to Hell (Reprise) 172. “It’s an old song and this is how it ends.”

173. “Here’s the thing. To know how it ends and still begin to sing it again, as if it might turn out this time, I learned that from a friend of mine.”

174. “It’s a sad song, but we keep singing even so.”

We Raise Our Cup 175. “Pour the wine and raise a cup.”

176. “Some birds sing when the sun shines bright, our praise is not for them, but the ones who sing in the dead of night. We raise our cups to them.”

177. “Wherever he is wandering alone upon the earth, let all our singing follow him and bring him comfort.”

178. “Some flowers bloom where the green grass grows, our praise is not for them, but the ones who bloom in the bitter snow.”

179. “We raise ‘em high and drink ‘em dry.”

#ask meme #rp meme #sentence meme #musical meme #hadestown #hadestown act ii

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elareine · 5 years ago

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In silence (Jason, Bruce)

The city speaks to him.

It’s not good or bad; it just is and has always been that way, for as long as Jason can remember. He’s eight when he first learns the word for it, ‘telepathy,’ and that he’s probably considered a ‘meta.’ Someone different. But Jason likes it. Having a secret is something just for himself, something he doesn’t have to share if he doesn’t feel like it.

He’s really more of an empath than a telepath, though occasionally, a clear thought comes through. It’s not like he’s dangerous or anything. Sure, sometimes it’s difficult to separate himself from anger his dad feels, from the fear his mother goes to sleep with daily, but surely that’s the same for everyone?

Being a meta doesn’t keep him from being hungry. The opposite, really.

He wonders, sometimes, if his mom possesses the same capabilities, if it’s that what she’s trying to numb. The other possibility is that she’s trying to forget about him. Neither of these is great, so he tries not to focus on that.

She dies either way, and Jason is alone on the streets, as alone one can be with about a thousand voices and feelings in your head.

He does not hear Batman come up behind him. It’s a total surprise when the hand clamps down on his shoulder.

Jason lashes out in surprise and disgust. What kind of person does not radiate any thoughts or feelings? Maybe it’s true, what they say. Batman isn’t human. It’s the only explanation for the sudden silence in Jason’s head.

Later, after he tried getting rid of Jason twice and fails, Bruce explains to him that he learned to silence his head in a monastery in… Tibet? Nepal? Wherever it is, Jason immediately vows never to go there. He doesn’t like the numbness that spreads through him when he meditates. It feels like shutting out a world he’s always been connected to. What if you miss out on the good parts because you want to avoid the bad ones?

He thinks Dick might agree with him if only Jason could talk to him about it. Bruce makes it clear he wants Jason to hide his abilities. And Dick is barely in Gotham, anyway, and when he is, he argues with Bruce. Jason gets that. It would just be nice to talk to someone who knows Bruce like Dick does.

As the years pass and he becomes Robin, other downsides of Bruce’s policy become apparent.

“Why are we not punishing them?” Jason is shouting. He knows Bruce hates that, but—he can’t. In front of him is a so-called human being who even now is preparing what to say to his lawyer so he can get out of jail and do all this again soon. How could Jason stay calm?

“That is not what we do.”

Jason thinks of the little girl back in that cold, cold apartment. “If you could feel her pain—”

“Emotions are not a reliable guide for actions.” Batman turns away. The discussion is over before it ever began.

Jason still hasn’t felt a single thing from Bruce. No anger, no pain, and certainly no love.

Maybe it’s time he starts looking elsewhere. He can’t deal with this anymore.

__________________

It takes Jason a long time to figure out what’s happening.

When he comes out of the pit, his telepathy is stronger. He can feel Bruce, now, know him and all the disgust he’s always felt at Jason; how he values the life of criminals more than that of children. He can feel how the rest of the so-called batfamily looks at him like he’s an animal that needs to be put down.

None of them deserve to call themselves Gotham’s protector. Jason has absolutely no compunction in treating them as if they’re barely a step above the criminals.

Until he meets Arsenal.

Roy… he’s so soothing.

Despite all the shit he’s been through, there’s still this light in him, and he generously passes it onto others. Here’s one person who even Ra’s cannot taint, and it breaks the spell.

Yes. Spell. Or rather, the way being in the pit with Ra’s had messed with his head. Finding out Ra’s tainted the one thing Jason thought he could rely on… It feels like more of a violation than having to dig his way out of his own grave.

Doesn’t feel great, knowing that he attacked people for no good reason. Even worse is the desire to do it again.

“That’s not on you, man,” Roy tells him. As always, it’s backed up by his thoughts, his feelings. Jason doesn’t have to consciously check anymore. He knows Roy means what he says.

Still he shakes his head. “I should have noticed.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like there’s a 101 class for you take. What the fuck does Batsy expect if he just tells you to not use a power you cannot switch off?”

Jason deliberately does not answer that question. “Introduction to Telepathy? What would that even look like?”

To his surprise, Roy genuinely considers the question. “Dunno, but we could find out. I know a telepath on the Titans, let’s start there.”

They do. Kori even introduces him to an entire alien race of telepaths. It’s great. Jason’s filters improve every day. He can choose when to listen, now; he can walk along a busy street without picking up on every stray feeling. Life is quieter but never silent.

Learning how to get a handle on his powers is one thing. Allowing himself to see certain things… that’s more difficult.

Gradually, Jason begins to trust that the replacement has never held more than some well-earned wariness against him. There’s even some respect there, along with a genuine offer to help if Jason wants it. Dick is confusion and the earnest, if occasionally misguided, desire to make things better. The others are a bit more difficult, but that’s okay. Jason has no intention of becoming family again.

He still doesn’t know if Ra’s manipulated his telepathy to the point that he received wrong signals from Bruce, or if it was just his own head, trying to replace the silence in Bruce’s mind with something more familiar. Honestly, at this point, it barely matters anymore. Jason has got to stop doing this to himself and move on.

With his friends’ minds glowing warmly in the back of his own, he thinks he might just manage that.

__________________

All Bruce ever wanted was to shield Jason from the horrors of his mind. Surely his own anger could only fuel Jason’s; his own sadness increase Jason’s; his endless thoughts on the unfairness of it all only drag down a child who has already experienced so much of it.

(He will not admit that he was ashamed. He was not. It was—it was just better that way.)

He knows he’s wrong, now. Arsenal was the one who spit in his face, who told him he isolated a boy who needed connection more than anything else and left him vulnerable to manipulation.

Bruce has never even considered that possibility. To him, it was obvious that the tendencies Jason already had as a child had been strengthened by trauma; that Jason was choosing to spit in the face of the values that Bruce worked so hard to instill in him; that he continues to do so.

Absurdly, his first thought when he figures out that something else went terribly wrong is: ‘Why didn’t Dick tell me?’

Because he didn’t know, Bruce realizes. None of his genius-level children figured out Jason, because Bruce never told them he was—is—a telepath in the first place.

Anyway, Bruce tells himself, it doesn’t matter what he did or didn’t say, because some apparent manipulation on Ra’s part doesn’t excuse Jason’s actions. He should have known better than to kill. And doesn’t he still walk around with his guns?

Still, Bruce vows to be better with Duke and tries to find a way for Jason and him to move forward.

“Show them trust,” Dick says in answer to a hypothetical question that they both know isn’t hypothetical, “and maybe, they will return it in time.”

So Bruce keeps his mind open. It’s a struggle, after all these years, but he does in the hope that Jason will see something there that will help him move on; that will get Bruce his son back.

But Jason never seems to look. It’s as if he can’t be bothered to; as if he has given up on Bruce.

Maybe he has. There is no way for Bruce to know. He’s not a telepath, after all.

#bruce wayne #jason todd #batfamily #advent calendar 2019 #elareine writes #sorry this is a bit late #way too tired yesterday

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namisuki · 5 years ago

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How can we dye our hair black from the inside out? #ChineseBlackSesameDESSERTSOUP.. Hey. I think I need to cut out the sweets for once and for all.. Hmm? I may think like this today but I will do the complete opposite when I feel the stress hormones surging through my veins again. Is that why my hands are starting to look veiny? Hmm. I want to go back to the past only to dig my own grave for my past self so I can be reborn again into the present moment the real. Me.. That is trying to pave her own way into a brighter future tomorrow. Hey. Let's go and be practical for once and forever. I mean.. Who's going to take care of my family but me yoooo? XD I mean who's going to take care of me but me

Duh

FACEPALM straight on my flat face. Let's go~ 🎤😭💬 I.... WONDER WHO U AREEEEE? I DON'T KNOW YOU~ BUT U MAKE ME WONDER WHOOO UUU RRRR LALALALALAAL... GOSH. Ooooooorrreaaallly what does being practical mean? It means u r having all your thousand hands like a Boddhisattva on this deck ⛵.. Dude I am about to go to the otherside in my imagination for now because who is this quarantine made for? Us human beings have... The right hemisphere for a reason.. It is for me to.. Cross.. Towards Euphoria... Because.. 💯✨✨✨I 👁️👃👁️👂this Peaceful Melody calling me in the left hemisphere of my brain hahahahahahahahahaahhahahahahaahhaahah XD dude. I feel like a total alien on this planet earth. Who's my captain hook maan..... Ok

Jaaa you

Goodnight. I love the song "Sorry" it reminds me not to feel sorry for myself but to actually make something out of my future..? Out of my present moment.. But my.. I seem to be everywhere right now. That is why..I don't speak or say a lot in real life. My words hold no meaning if they are not backed up by any actions. Let me take some action right now.. 🎬🎞️I don't like to cut corners but u may cut me some slack while I don't want to slack off so I have to take... Some action now... This is weird... Why do movies exist? I guess........... This is..... For me to find out. I want to be Sonmi... 45..1..?xd ha no.. I don't know. I don't want to be anyone but me.. That is liable to play different characters in a different.. Time zone.. Eh.. Anytime.. Call me.. Don't call me... I will pick up... This line is dead straight.. Haha hahahahahahha ha... Gosh. Bye! I get lost inside my own head. It is not funny anymore

The world must be brighter outside my head.. Hmm.. I wonder how my life looks like when I live from. My heart space? 🤔🤭😇🥳... 🤠🏇.. Ehhhtooooaaoaoaoaooa CD.... I ate his CD for breakfast and now I sound like a broken record hahahahahaahah k.. I have to get some 🎥 soul going on in my room because my room is... Seoullesssssswwwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa dude. People that read this may that I am weird.. But maybe u are... This.. Really... No nonsense type of person like me.. But u know what... This kind of.. Doesn't make sense to. Me either but it does.. In a very weird.. Paradoxical way... I sneezed. Goodnight. Take care. I will do what I didn't do a few weeks ago. I am behind. But I will catch up. Don't Heinz me. Byebye! 😭😂✨✨😁✨✨✨😁😁✨✨✨✨🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅~ aserejee jee Haa jshajajana I forgot that song.. The ketchup song made me.. Boogy woogy... I forgot them lyrics do Ooooo hahahahahaahah OK. 🎶

I want to do a cover of the Rose's song or a cover of my beloved.... 🤫🤫🤫🤫🤫.... Eric Nampyeonieeeeeeeee.. I swear I do not dare to talk like this to him again, because this is kind of cringy? I actually dont want to be with u-ooh anymore because I don't love people that cheat on me? I don't even know you yet so how is this cheating? XD sassaeng 101.. Is what people will say but I don't mind. I think what matters most is that we are able to express how we truly feel without suffocating one another with our words. Ain't it right

Heeeeeh.. I don't think I am right but...for now I want to be myself again. Sigh. I am sick of hiding my heart inside a really suffocating chamber myself so... Hmm.. I miss this... Larger than life feeling I got when I was standing on the mountain top back in China. Ha. Or in Italy. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm........ Some people are experts in letting pasts be bygones but I don't think I am that great in it yet so let me start from now on. Honestly, I don't think anyone can just let bygones be bygones.. Without... Harboring some.. Thorns inside their own hearts.. Can they? XD I mean can we? Can I? Yes!.! A. A! Said yes we can. Yes I can. So yes we can. Alrighties. Ssssssleep well.... Use the time we have to build a stable foundation for the children of tomorrow~ duhuhuuhu... I can be one of them or I am one of them and so are you! No matter how old you are now. I am still convinced that we are all... Babies, turning into adults... Becoming grans and gramps of the universe.. Reaping or sowing tiny gems of wisdom into the planet earth 🌱🌲🌳🌴🌵🌾🌿☘️🍀🍃🎋🎄.. And what more? I know I can not be the person I wanted to be a while ago or I know that is trying to emerge from. Within me in just a split second because.. Like an onion.. I don't like to eat

U have to peel it one layer by one layer... Until u reach its core.. It is the essence that is able to kill our eyeballs with a fragrance that even garlic can't top... Off this vampire diary is ending now. I have to take care of. My psychical needs? Body now. My gums are bleeding red like the Rose I couldn't receive from Eric Nam a while ago lol. Hahahahah hahahaha. So I got a digital rose instead and honestly I am glad he sung that song because it got me like wooooo hahahahahahha. XD gosh. I have to buy myself a guitar for.. The birthday I wish I could attend a bit sooner than now.. But this date of birth is only starting... In September so.. Uhm.. Let's pray COVID-19 is ending soon so I can flyyyyyy away.... Save money

And... Uhhhhhmmm u know. There are a lots of places left for us as human beings to visit and a physical! Geographical location u can see, hear, taste or.. Feel or any other senses we can use to.. Discover planet earth is not one of them... I want to take everyone to Euphoria soon, with notes🎶 that will give me paper that means something to the society so I can pay my bills and live a happy and peaceful life with my hooman!.. MAN. MAN MAN MAN WHERE R THOU? OK. I DON'T NEED A MAN IS WHAT MODERN AGE WOMEN SAY IS WHAT I SAID TOO BUT OOOOLAAAAAAYAAAAJAKAKAKKAAKAKAKAKKAKAKAKA I JUST WANT A PSYCHOLOGIST I CAN TALK TO FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE IN ZE BATHROOM BECAUSE I NEED A SINK TO BRUSH MY TEETH IN NOW BECAUSE IT IS BED TIME. OK. go.. PEACHES and cream are nice but u know what sets avocado's on fire?...... Chilli pepper flakes in the form of gochugaruuUuUuuiu haru haru😂😂🤣😅🤭 hahahahah.... I need to see if I can find someone as gross as me... Just kiddink actually we don't ... P💩P.. We let go~ of our goals.. That do not benefit anyone but ourselves... Because we have to embrace the golden Middle way that is going to help us... All... Go Back to or come through this heaven's doooorr.... 🚽🧻🚪🎤😇🤝😇🎻🎼🌐☮️🎸🎷🥁🎹.. This sounds like a peaceful melody that I can jam to.. For.. Longer than... This evening is really weird. I literally did nothing but roam in my own head space and the only thing I found was something that my heart didn't want to see because my soulmate said.. 🤫🤐Worry no more~ u are right where u are~ just take it slow 🐢 and we can go there anytime when you are ready, I am ready! When we are ready.. HUMANITY WILL BE READY TOO! SO LET'S GOAAAL 💗❤️💖🧡💛💚💙💜.. FOR THE UMPTEENTH TIME I am going to bed. 🎶

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windlion · 5 years ago

Text

Transmigrator Pile-Up

Was this a hallucination? Or something a whole lot weirder?

There were giant eagles. Oh, fuck, please let him be in Middle Earth. He could deal with living in Tolkien.

(It probably wasn't.)

Jay wasn't expecting to wake up. He was definitely positively not expecting to wake up to small hands pawing at his face. He flinched, eyes flickering open just enough to catch a small child's eyes going wide in their round face as they fell backwards away from him. The kid squeaked, slapped a hand over their mouth guiltily, then abruptly spun and ran away.

The flap of the door behind them wasn't enough to block the ear-piercing cry of "Grandma! Grandma, he's awake!"

He already felt like shit, but the sheer volume made his ears ring. Good lungs on that kid.

Jay squinted against the bright light coming through the doorway before slumping back, eyes closing. He felt horrible. Time for a rousing game of Hangover or Concussion? He remembered . . . falling? Falling. That horrible moment when his foot slipped and all his hands caught was air. When he didn't even have a safety line on because he wasn't supposed to be near the edge yet. Stupid stupid stupid.

And then there was the exciting hallucination that followed.

Yeah, he wasn't ready to go near that deep dive into his subconscious yet. Concussion was sounding about right. Except. As much as his head hurt, the rest of him hurt more. Even tipping his head stabbed pain through his chest and sides. Concussion and broken ribs, maybe? He did fall off a mountain. That usually involved hitting things on the way down. Object in motion, etc.

Currently he was at rest, so that was something. He was laid out on his back on a pallet of sorts not far from a cooking hearth of bricks. The floor was either dusty concrete or hard-packed earth, hard to tell. Barely tilting his head gave him a great view of wooden rafters and ramshackle one-story construction that could be pretty much anything anywhere in the mountains that wasn't a ski lodge or some Airbnb chalet. While it felt like he'd rather be in a hospital, not dead or alone on a mountainside was a pretty good start, so he'd take it.

The bright light from the door was interrupted by a shadow as Tiny Loud came back dragging an older woman- grandmother, he presumed. She pushed the small child behind her with a business-like motion as she strode up to the hearth, leaning over to inspect some things he couldn't see from this angle. Evidently satisfied, she turned to take his measure next and met his eyes directly. "So you're awake, Hielang-ge."

"What?" Jay's voice came out rough, gravelly and dry and deeper than he was expecting. Had he been gargling rocks?

"Black wolf. What else could we call you?" The old woman shrugged like she was the practical sort of woman who called a spade a spade. Thank fuck because he didn't have any idea what name he should have offered if they asked. She gestured at his head with a spoon as she stirred the pot by the fire. "A-mei has been taken with your hair. If you didn't make it, we said we might save your pelt for her."

He could either take that as a joke or a threat, but fuck, it was kind of funny. And explained the grubby little paws. He grinned wryly and rasped, "Thanks for waiting."

"Your type are hard to kill. Always best to be sure." Grandma stirred again, then fetched a bowl, ladling some of the contents of the pot into it. She carried it over to him, then seized his shoulders preemptively when he tried to move, breath catching in pain. "But hard doesn't mean impossible. Don't push it."

Yes, ma'am! Jay did his best to cooperate as she levered him up with skinny iron arms, propping a firm roll of something under his shoulders. Tiny lady or not, she was impressive. And that was a way better thing to focus on than not passing out. First on the agenda was water, followed closely by painkillers. Ow. Ow ow ow ow son of a motherfucker.

Strangely, even though it sucked, it felt like he reached some sort of equilibrium. Jay curled his right arm tight around his ribs, bracing against the pain, and caught his breath slowly. Grandma tipped the bowl to his lips and slowly dribbled something that turned out to be broth into his mouth. It ran into his beard; he raised his left hand to brush weakly at it. That was. . . a lot of beard, how long had he been out?

Reading the questioning look on his face, Grandma shushed him, patting his shoulder gently. "We found you in the woods to the west. Three days ago."

That left him with a lot more questions than answers. He waited until he'd finished off the serving of broth, then said as carefully as setting the last stone in a cairn, "I don't remember." Grandma smiled in a way that was and was not reassuring. "Best you don't. Rest, now."

Shit.

As she helped lower him back to a full recline, flat on his back, resting was absolutely the last thing on his mind. The longer he was awake, the more things nagged at him. He wanted to scratch at his beard. Draped over his shoulder, his long dark hair was in a rough plait that he could bet was the work of those small curious hands on Tiny Loud. His own hands were big, callused, rough. Not even remotely the right shade of brown to be a Jesus. Shit shit shit.

Even laying prone, he had a sense of mass, of presence. Jay was heavier than he was used to. Bigger. He didn't mind taller, but why was he a tank?!

Hielang-ge. His mind had tripped over the words for a second. What language was that, even? Mandarin? He didn't speak Mandarin, couldn't even ask where to find the bathroom. But he was pretty sure that entire conversation was definitely not in English.

Hallucination? Or something a whole lot weirder?

There were giant eagles. Oh, fuck, please let him be in Middle Earth. He could live with Tolkien.

(It probably wasn't.)

It definitely wasn't.

Over his three day period as an invalid, the individual formerly known as Jesus Alvarez Cooper had nothing better to do than think between sleeping, eating, bandage changes, and being beautified by A-mei. (Seriously: he woke up with tiny braids in his beard. He'd spent a minute with his hand on his jaw trying to figure out what was up before Grandma Xu informed him of his new fashion choices. And that they were new. He only nodded seriously and said he respected her eye for aesthetics. He kinda regretted he never got a chance to see what it looked like; he bet it was sorta dwarven.)

So. Not in Kansas any more, Toto. Time for transmigration 101. Jay was exactly the kind of nerd that knew the difference between isekai and transmigration and the fast transmigration genres and . . . he knew what was up, okay?

Good news: there wasn't a system. Or if there was, he hadn't activated it yet. No stats, no missions, no glowing HUD.

Bad news: he had no idea where the fuck he was and even a system would have helped him figure out where he was and what he was doing.

Who he was.

Because this was definitely not his original body, and he was fine with that because this was definitely not the right place for one scrawny little science geek. Jay Cooper 1.0 would not have survived the shishka-crash, much less be healing this fast afterwards. His own body was probably rotting at the bottom of the mountain, hopefully providing food for the local ecosystem. Or maybe they'd retrieved it by now; he'd had his phone and tracker on him. God he hoped they weren't still out looking for him.

(Ah shit, Maria, he was so sorry. She'd be in the front wave with search and rescue. He wasn't going to be a pretty corpse. And not to mention the state of his shithole apartment. Please let Maria and Kaylee get to clean up before his family showed up. His mom would flip at the mess, his sisters would roast him for the amount of merch. He did not need to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known from beyond the grave. His dying young would already fuck them up enough as it was.)

Right. New digs.

New life, new name, no lingering on the past. New world included giant birds you could fly on; Jay needed to get out there and see them. The Xu family that was hosting him presently was being very gracious but even he could tell that they didn't have shit to spare for a freeloader. If it wasn't mid-spring, they might not have had enough if they wanted to.

Goal number one: get up, get moving, figure out who the hell he was jaegering.

His new body cooperated with that goal admirably. The flesh and bones knit back together at a rate that was both entirely bullshit and entirely welcome. From what Jay could see of his arms and torso during the combination feeding-and-bandage changes, this wasn't anything new. He had scars, a lot of them, in a wide variety of sizes and shapes. Original goods had spent a lot of time with things wanting to kill him.

That nothing else had succeeded until now was a bit of a mixed bag, really. The second Jesus took the wheel, he crashed the car. (It wouldn't be the first time.) What he could put together of the damage tally was impressive. Probably hairline fractures in his legs and arms, contusions galore. Some scrapes and scratches from crashing through a tree at speed. Definitely broken ribs. General trauma and internal damage from being spitted for a luau. If he was right that should have taken out some intestine, lungs, liver. You know, things you usually need for a healthy sprightly life.

By all right he ought to have a concussion, be in a coma or a full body cast, and pissing blood, and nope, here he was, actually standing up on the afternoon of the fourth day to lean on the shoulder Grandma Xu's son in law, Jing.

Jing-ge staggered a little under his arm, "You're sure you want to move, Hielang-ge?"

"Yeah," Jay grunted, trying to support his own weight better as they got him vertical, then took the first careful steps towards the door. Jing was a full-time farmer in the prime of his thirties, and he was still a head shorter and probably half the mass. If the OG was built like an ox, he ought to be study as one. And he was, damnit. "I can smell myself. I can't stand sitting in my own filth any more."

Grandma Xu had judged his wounds to be closed enough to the point that he could bathe, and he very much wanted to not stink like blood and sweat and death any more. Mid-spring meant warm weather and plentiful water, so he was absolutely on board with hygiene.

With Xu Jing's help, he figured out how to get his own feet under him and ducked out through the door. Jay paused outside to take in the view: the mountains shone reddish in the sunlight, not unlike parts of the Rockies. Except it was rougher, sharper, younger? The Xu steading itself didn't really qualify as a village or a farm; it was three low dark buildings clustered together at the top of a valley that was more a pinch where peaks met. The sprouting fields showed a sharp green against the dark of the red-brown stone. Two of the women were out tending the fenced gardens where the green was darker and thicker. A few white and brown shapes grazed higher up the slopes; goats or sheep, maybe?

None of this was telling him where the hell he was.

Jay glanced back at Xu Jing, realizing the man was watching his reaction closely. "You're up high-- above the treeline, aren't you?"

"Almost." Xu Jing gestured with his free hand towards the two ridges that ran like bony spines in what he'd guess was north-south direction. "Walls block the wind, keep us warmer."

"Ah, microclimate, smart." Jay nodded. "Bet it's quiet up here, too."

"We don't usually get much trouble from the neighbors." Xu Jing nodded up towards where the two peaks met. "There's a small lake, same that feeds our stream. They water the birds there, sometimes. We leave it alone, they leave us alone."

Birds, huh. As in more than one. Xu Jing was fishing; he'd bet anything that would have meant something to the OG, but fuck if he knew what. When he didn't react, Xu Jing tugged him along towards the back of the neighboring building. On closer inspection, the buildings were constructed of a mix of timber, stone and reclaimed material--a sheet of plastic covered in faded advertising provided a waterproof lining on the roof. He couldn't quite make out what the product was: someone must have not paid their licensing fees.

Xu Jing led him behind what proved to be their goat stable/storehouse and to where bamboo pipes directed stream water to a concrete trough. A plastic 4 gallon paint bucket sat beside it. Jay sized it up judgingly. So there's plastic, concrete, bricks, and . . . no electricity. And now he was going to have to bathe in glacier-melt water. He called bullshit.

Xu Jing gingerly let him go to stand under his own power, pulling what looked like a bamboo milking stool over beside the trough. There was a sliver of soap and a rag already resting on the concrete edge, and a pile of faded fabric waiting. Xu Jing was keeping a judicious eye on him, like he was waiting for something. "Normally in the summer we'd bathe in the lake. . ."

Jay sighed and started figuring out how the robes tied together. Locker room protocols it was. He could deal with any of the Xus rubbernecking, really; they couldn't possibly be as bad as that field camp in grad school. "This is fine. I just want to get clean."

There was a stone and gravel funnel off to one side, directing water away from the yard and down hill. He checked with Xu Jing, "Waste water goes there?"

Xu Jing seemed surprised he'd asked. "Yes."

"Great." No blood, gore, or other biological materials contaminating the animal water, he approved of that. On to the next problem: what the hell was he wearing, robes and trousers? At least as an invalid it wasn't anything complicated. By the way they cut off at his forearms and calves he could guess he was wearing Xu Jing or the grandfather's cast offs. No judging, they'd given him something to wear that he was probably wrecking, and the old material was worn soft. He folded the clothes as he took them off, setting them on the edge of the trough before filling a bucket. Fuck, that water was exactly as cold as he thought it would be.

A bit of breeze going by made him shiver. Xu Jing seemed to be watching and waiting for him to wimp out. Like hell he would; Jay had dealt with worse in the name of getting clean while camping. Best to just get it over with.

By the time he was done he was shivering and he had a whole new appreciation for a) the full geographical distribution and variety of scars on his person, b) were those tattoos?! and c) how much of a pain long hair was. Washing that took longer than scrubbing the rest of himself three times over. Wet, his hair hung to his ass, and he did not trust the way it was trying to go into ringlet curls. Oh hell no, he did not sign up for this.

Xu Jing had to help him get dressed again, and once he was decent and shuffled back in front of the fire, A-mei gleefully descended to take care of his hair. Jay sighed and resigned himself to being a six year old girl's plaything. Xu Jing left him to her tender mercies and headed back out to the fields, evidently satisfied but still looking confused.

Jay had the bad feeling that Xu Jing knew a hell of a lot more about the Original Goods than he did. Shit. He needed to put this together.

#sometimes I write #nanowrimo #Transmigrator Pile-Up #block that tag if you wish to avoid my nonsense!#and today WE HAVE A NAME woo hoo #Jesus Alvarez Cooper #I had to go back and edit the previous bits to put it in there #but I have not edited the post #because this is nano and I am being lazy #about 700 words in here were written pre-November so I have to handicap that against the total #so 3.5k to date #I have done pretty much nothing else today but write #but it feels good?

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awed-frog · 6 years ago

Note

Consider this your ask about "ghost village" (from the bear skeleton post)

Hello person who reads tags! Thank you for this ask!

I’m more of a book person than a dig person, so I won’t be able to explain this properly, but basically what happened is that ten years ago I randomly got the chance to work on a dig in Georgia (the country) and I got very excited because

considering you work for free, it’s surprisingly hard to get any kind of international experience;

Georgia is the El Dorado of Greek archaeology because most of the sites were abandoned and forgotten about, so we keep finding awesome things;

Georgia is also a beautiful country in its own right, and well worth a visit;

and what all of that means is that I was too busy jumping up and down to properly look into the work we were going to carry out there.

(Also, to be perfectly honest, most of my research was about stuff like ‘what to do if Russia invades’ and ‘how to outrun a tank’ and ‘contacting your consulate 101′ and possibly ‘Russian for: don’t shoot I’m an archaeologist’, so.)

To give you a bit of context: Georgia is not a country it’s easy to be ready for, and the first few days were a confusing, surreal experience. I’d read about Georgia’s hospitality culture, but I was shockingly unprepared for just how pervasive and ritualistic it was. Like, I was expecting that the other students and I would immediately be put to work (my normal dig experience that far had been something along the lines of ‘Welcome! That is your tent and here is your shovel! Enjoy!’) - instead, for the first three or four days no one even mentioned why we were there? During the day, we were encouraged to laze around the camp - self-imposed activities to appear busy included picking wild hazelnuts, offering to help in the kitchen and marveling at the boss’ outstanding backgammon skills - while at night we were whisked away to various social events.

Aaaaand more context, because ‘social events’ doesn’t cover it.

First of all, picture a table of sixty people in evening gowns, plus ten archaeology students in polo shirts and work boots (no one had told us to bring suits or anything). Embarrassment factor, checked. On top of that, those were not random people peacocking in their one good shirt - we were informed in advance, in excruciating detail, of everyone’s rank and title and family tree (think very wealthy donors who’d contributed money for our dig), and for some reason it’s even more uncomfortable to be there with your zip-off trousers next to literal royalty. Third, you can’t speak to anyone because there’s just no common language. Georgian is not something you pick up in two weeks, and my Russian didn’t extend beyond ‘I’m twenty-six’ and ‘Alexander Pushkin died a long time ago’, so there’s a lot of smiling and nodding and checking useless pocket dictionaries and stammering გმადლობთ every time you’re handed something. Fourth, there’s thousands of unwritten social rules you know nothing about - and I know, I know, social rules are a thing everywhere, but I’ve yet to find something quite as complex and fascinating as a Georgian feast. And finally, because of the aforementioned social rules, all of this happens as you’re blind drunk.

(If anyone’s curious: every Georgian meal is basically a banquet, because no matter the circumstances there are going to be at least fifteen different dishes on the table, ranging from home-made stuffed bread to whole sheep’s heads, and the problem is, you can eat as much as you want, but you have no control - zero - over what or when you’re drinking.

At the start of the meal, what you assumed was a water glass - think a decent-sized thing - is filled with wine to the very brim. Next, everyone starts eating. After ten minutes or so, someone calls for a toast, everyone stops eating, and they all listen and cheer as a guy makes a five-minute speech about the host and how the host is the best person on the whole planet. Once he’s done, everyone drinks - as in, you have to drain your glass in one gulp - basically a shot of wine - and wait for your glass to be refilled. More eating, more pretending you understand a word of the conversations around you, and then a second guy stands up - there’s a very precise hierarchy for the toast orders - and starts praising the house of the host, most beautiful and welcoming. Shot of wine, more eating, another toast: to the wife of the host! Shot of wine, more eating, another toast: to this most blessed evening spent in such blessed company! And next: to the dig! To these talented students we’re so lucky to have at our table! To their bright future! To our glorious past! To Georgia! To this amazing wine our host made with his own hands! To the host! And it all starts again.

I’ve been told that as the evening goes on, toasts become more and more ridiculous as people struggle to find a worthy subject. Since you can’t drink when you want to, but only after a toast, there’s a rush to toast everything and anything either because a) you want to drink yourself or b) you worry your guests want to drink and you’re preventing them from doing that with your shameful lack of toasts. So in the end, it doesn’t matter how much you eat: since you can’t pace yourself, mostly every evening meal ends with a blood alcohol level of .99.)

So this is the situation: by the fourth day, I was walking around in a haze, never quite sober, happy with everything, grateful to everyone, more khachapuri than human being, and when we finally got to start working, we found all the upper layers had already been removed, which meant we would likely start finding bodies in a matter of hours.

Except we didn’t: there are no bodies in Georgia.

I think it has something to do with the chemical composition of the soil and how it eats away at the bones, but as I said, my knowledge of this stuff is pretty limited. What happens, though, is that you find graveyards and graveyards of invisible people. You uncover the beads and spirals of headdresses, then a clasp, next a pair of bracelets, and a pair of anklets, and finally the grave goods, placed at the feet of your mystery woman. And when I realized this was how it was going to be, at first I thought it would make things easier?, less creepy?, but I actually found it more unsettling - we were in the middle of this old, overgrown forest, and it started to feel like those people had gotten up and walked the fuck away - like they’d left behind their jewelry and weapons and clothes and simply - disappeared, and maybe they were there with us in that very moment, sitting on the ground and watching us marvel at their rings and pottery, maybe they would follow us back to our wooden houses, and maybe - surely, this seemed more and more like an inevitability with every passing day - surely they would sit down with us for the banquets, they would find those evenings a kind of coming home, because that laughter, those rituals, that wine aged in clay pots buried deep undeground - those things were all as old as those ghosts dining with us; Homeric Greece hunching down upon us, dark and glittering and something I will never, ever fall out of love with.

(And if anyone’s confused and incredulous and all, ‘But Frog, are you saying everyone’s drunk all the time?’, well - no - Georgians have this soup they drink the morning after a feast, and it sobers them right up, fog gone, headaches gone - one bowl contains about fifteen cloves of garlic, some magical herbs and one cow hoof - a whole-ass hoof, just floating there - so our group quickly found itself split into hungover people and hoof-eating people and you know what?, I’m damn proud of the camp I chose.

Damn proud.)

#ask #archaeology #georgia #sakartvelo #wanderlust #ancient greece #cow hoof for ts

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imagine-that-one-thing · 6 years ago

Text

Styles. || 6.

Meant to be.

February 14th, 2015

Valentines Day.

I nervously bounce from foot to foot as I stare out the glass doors that give me the view of Gracechurch St. I’m waiting on a woman, something I haven’t done in a very long time. Tonight is the first business Gala for me to attend, I was kindly invited as part of the learning section of my internship. As explained to me, tonight is about learning how to network, socialise and talk business with the men and women who can probably crush me like a bug.

I take a deep breath, anxiously flicking my loam-grey eyes to glance down at the watch on my wrist. Part of me can’t help but wonder if she is going to bail on me, she has no reason to, but maybe she decided a business gala on valentines day wasn’t her thing.

I don’t blame her, I wouldn’t want to be here either, but if she can pull through with the next few hours I do have her favourite cake in my fridge at my apartment, along with some wine and roses. I also made a reservation at her favourite restaurant for tomorrow night as a surprise. Elise made me promise that we wouldn’t celebrate Valentine's day since we have only been together for three weeks, which is understandable— It made sense to not want to celebrate the day of love when we don’t know what love lies between us.

A smile forms on my raspberry-red lips as I see Elise in a cab before she can even manage to open the door, I beat her to it and open the door before offering her my hand. She takes it and steps out, allowing her baby blue coat-dress to fall just over her knee, “thank you,” she beams, leaning up and kissing my cheek.

She’s stunning as she wears something simplistic yet so elegant. I don’t even know how it’s possible but I somehow feel like the luckiest man alive to have her hand in my own.

She looks at me with her lemur round eyes. They are seductive and beautiful. My heart nearly stops when she gazes at me— how can someone as beautiful as she, be with someone like me? “You look lovely,” I compliment Elise as she puts some distance between us and adjusts her attire. She looks so fucking beautiful.

“Thank you, how far is the walk to the building?” Elise questions as she pushes her hair to fall over her shoulder.

“Not far, right here,” I chuckle as I gesture towards the glass doors to the building I intern in and the one that is currently holding the business gala.

Elise looks up at the building before glancing over at me, “Wait, you intern for Royal London Asset Management?” Her voice is low with a hint of syrup sweetness and filled with surprise as she speaks, and I can’t help but be intrigued by her surprise.

I bite my orchid-pink lips and nod, “you seem surprised, why?”

“No reason,” Elise shakes her head as I take her hand and intertwine my fingers with hers. I don’t bother to question her, mainly because I don’t think I’m going to get an answer for what’s running through that mind of hers.

“I should be able to leave by ten and then I have a surprise at my apartment.”

“A surprise, hm?” She questions with a tone of uncertainty.

My eyes grow wide as I process that my comment probably sounds like I’m initiating something sexual. “Oh, Christ. It’s not what it sounds like.”

My mind begins to race at the thought of her getting the wrong impression or idea of me. I am not the guy who wants to just take her back to my apartment to shag or anything. Damnit.

“What does it sound like?” Elise asks and I frown for a moment, unsure how to dig myself out of this hole. Oops.

I open the glass doors for her and allow her in before I step inside behind her and retake her hand with mine, “like I was insinuating adult activities on Valentine’s Day, and I wasn’t. Not trying to lure you to my apartment in an attempt to… you know.. I’m not that guy, and I swear it is just cake and some wine.” … “only if you want.”

I catch a giggle escape her sugar plum sweet and silk soft lips and part of me suddenly releases a breath and I feel relieved.

She’s fucking with me. She knew I didn’t mean things the way it sounded.

“Are you done stuttering and stressing?”

“Are you done causing my stuttering?”

“Indeed,” she nods with a grin.

“Woman, you’re going to send me to an early grave, I swear.”

“You’re so cute when you’re all stutter-y. I know you’re not that guy, wouldn’t have come tonight if I thought you’d lure me to your apartment just for a shag.”

“I’d never,” I shake my head and look over at her to see her smiling.

✿✿✿

Elise and I have made a few rounds with talking to some people and the best part about tonight isn't the fact that this is a significant step up for my career, because of the fact, I have Elise beside me. If she wasn't here, I can almost guarantee that I would be a mess and standing by the bar with a glass of whiskey in my hand while tapping my foot nervously. I don't know what pull she has on me but she appears to keep me a little more grounded and calm. I can't tell if it is a good thing or a bad thing at this point in time. Time will only tell— Who knows where this road is supposed to lead. We have nothing but time.

“Elise?” I hear someone calling politely for Elise. My eyes flick around the area, unsure of where the person is located.

“Can we go get drinks?” Elise challenges as she tugs on my arm. I go to agree but I am stopped when I see my boss, well not really my boss, he signs my internship hours and is teaching me how to rein the business world when I am not fetching coffees and files.

He grins over at us, “Elise,” he exclaims happier than I have ever seen him, perhaps it is the alcohol or maybe he does have some sort of personality outside the office.

Who knows?

I frown as I notice Elise mumble something inaudible under her breath, “you know Jamie Cartier?” I whisper as she flicks her head towards Jamie and offers him a smile.

“Hi Mr.Cartier,” Elise greets politely, “it is a nice event you have here.”

The man chuckles, “you’re lying, but thank you for being kind.”

“You’re welcome, Harry here was just telling me about your latest global equity funds.”

“Oh, really? And what are your thoughts on that?” Jamie asks with a smirk, his attention entirely on Elise. I frown for a moment, unsure of whether I should be concerned or not.

“Well, all I got out of it was something to do with a concentrated portfolio of global stocks from developed and emerging markets, then he lost me,” Elise informs my boss and he nods his head, seeming partially amused by Elise.

“And how do you two know each other?” Jamie gestures between Elise and I and I can’t help but grin to myself.

“Elise is my girlfriend,” I proudly respond, quite liking the sound of her being my girlfriend. If anyone had told me that the girl I had been drooling over since I first saw her in August last year would be dating me, I would have laughed.

I am still quite surprised that she said yes to me over a dinner date at my apartment that I lured her to. “Ah, I see,” Jamie nods, “well, I will let the two of you go. Harry, don’t forget to network. You know some of these people, don’t waste the chances.” Jamie informs me and I nod, taking his advice.

Elise and I walk away and before I can start to question on how she knows Jamie, I am thrown into a world of business conversations about Royal London Asset Management. RLAM is a UK-based investment management company with assets under management of more than £101 billion, interning under the CEO of the company is an honour, and having the opportunity to talk business with some of the biggest CEO’s in the country is an honour in itself.

✿✿✿

“You seem to know everyone here or they seem to know you,” Elise nudges me benevolently and I look down at her lovingly. “I can see in those effulgent eyes of yours you have something pondering through that mind. What is it?” Elise challenges as she cocks her head to the side.

“The business world is so astronomical, yet so diminutive, everyone knows everyone. If you don't —then you might as well be exiled because you are fucked."

“Wise words from a wise man.”

I lift my shoulders into a shrug, “wouldn’t say I’m wise, but I’m getting there.”

“Humble, I see.” I grin down at her and she leans up and kisses me sweetly, “I’m going to get a drink, I’ll be back in a minute,” Elise informs me and I nod, watching as she wanders towards the bar.

✿

I glance around the room of elite businessmen and women and I can’t help but wonder if this will one day be my life. If one day I’ll be hosting these events and drawing in businessmen and women to do business with me. I wonder if this is how my life will be and if it’ll be shared with Elise.

I smile as Elise has managed to fit in and find a comfort in talking to one of the other girlfriends at the event. The moment that they introduced each other, Elise hasn’t looked my way since. I like how she fits into the social setting better than I do, she has this energy and vibe to her that is attractive and alluring. I wouldn’t say she’s a social butterfly but I also wouldn’t say that she wasn’t one. She’s like a cold glass of wine on a summer day, everyone wants to taste the sweetness but not everyone gets the chance.

My clay-grey eyes transform from their usual grey to a sudden firing red of distaste as my eyes meet a pair of languorous, rapture-blue eyes, blue eyes that don’t seem to leave me alone— they follow me everywhere I go and they’re becoming my worst nightmare. No matter how hard I try to escape this damn sinkhole of disaster, the more it keeps following me and swallowing me whole. I moved away from Cheshire so I could cleanse my soul and wipe myself clean of the devastation, brokenness and bitterness etched into the fields of gold back home. I left Cheshire to forget the memories, the good, the bad and the ugly ones. I left Cheshire to leave behind my darkest and deepest scars caused by my bravest demons. I left to get a clean slate, to start fresh and not have to worry about my cryptic past, my secrets and my sorrows. No matter how much distance I put between me and Cheshire, the demons seem to follow me, they wrap themselves around me and strangle me at my core. They slowly but surely find me, one way or another.

I dance my eyes between Elise and the bar, debating whether to drown myself in a glass of whiskey or whether to take Elise and just go home. I think for a moment or two and come to my conclusion; I’m going to do neither. There’s no point in hiding from my demons, they’re possessed to continue to find me. I’ll handle it head-on.

I make my way through the melee of the crowd and Logan’s voyager-blue eyes meet mine, “what the hell are you doing here?”

“That’s not a nice way to greet someone, Harry.”

“Logan, what are you doing?” I repeat my question, doing my best to stay calm and not cause a scene despite the fact I can’t stand the man that is in front of me.

“I’m trying to get an understanding of the business world. I assume just like you.”

I shake my head, disapproving of his decisions. “Oh, no. No. You’re not fucking this up for me. This is my thing, get your own.”

“This is my thing, too.”

“You’re going to be my worst nightmare, aren’t you?”

“Not trying to be, but I guess so.”

“Logan, do me a favour and stay the fuck away from my business shit and anything to do with my degree. Got it?”

“What about your girlfriend? Is she off limits, too?”

“Logan, I swear on our father's drunken soul–“

“Relax,” Logan cuts me off and I glare at him, unamused by the love child that helped split my family.

Of all the places of study he could have attended, he had to follow me and bring his-our- past with him. It is bad enough I have to see this love child around campus and now at business holdings. I'll be damned if I let him near Elise or anyone I care about. I have done my best to keep him away from my mother and sister, isolating him and abolishing him from all family ties around me. My mother and sister don't even know about Logan at the moment. I don't think my mother can handle the information and as for my sister, well, I am not sure what her reaction may be. It is best if I deal with the love child dilemma on my own; I have dealt with the problem for three years now, I think I can keep hiding it on my own.

✿✿✿

I reach my apartment, and the first thing I observe is my guitar in the corner, my first instinct is to wrap my hands gently around it and to sit with it on my couch. I strum a couple chords and take a few deep breaths, attempting to discover my sweet serenity and safe haven with the sound of a few chords. I spend a few moments just letting my fingers find their way before I discover myself playing the chords to 'I Don't Want To Miss A Thing,' by Aerosmith. I’m taken back to a time where music was my happy place. I go back to the times I spent in NYC at a studio learning how to play, it was a small studio but large in the dewy, mist valley-green eyes of a young boy.

As I got older, I kept going back to the same studio, finding it to be my safe haven. The owner was a loving guy, and always had his doors open to anyone that had a small hankering for music and melodies. Every Wednesday night he would close down the studio and recording area and would allow anyone that wanted to learn the fundamentals of music and instruments into his studio. He would spend hours teaching and amazing young kids with dreams of being future musicians. I was one of the few that always showed up when I visited New York, the owner always seemed to gravitate to me and the way I would play any instrument with such grace.

When I was seventeen, right before I had to start University and buckle down, I dragged my sister to New York with me for the summer, we spent most of our time in and out of different, small coffee shops and stores, and every other night we would go to the studio where the two of us would sit the owner, talk, laugh, sometimes even cry, while also playing a few chords of our favourite melodies. Without a doubt, we would always end up humming and singing along to, 'I Don't Want To Be', by Gavin DeGraw.

It seemed to always fit the scenes of my life.

Those walls' grasp more heartfelt lyrics than anywhere else— those walls' hold the character of others that will never be shared— they hold esoteric talent that will never escape. Personally, those walls' grip the part of me that I had to leave behind— the part of me that couldn't continue its journey when I came to University and became who I am today— they hold the thoughts and harmony of a seventeen-year-old who didn't have an understanding of the real world.

As I strum a couple chords and get myself lost in my melody, I can’t help but think about how in such a short period of time, Elise has become a person I never thought I needed in my life until now. I was fine on my own and single. I never knew that there was something missing from me until I met her. I don’t know if I am just crazy or if the universe put her in front of me for a reason, but she has managed to match the piece I didn’t know I was missing. It is strange and difficult to explain, hell, I presumably sound a bit psychotic. But deep down, I know there is something about her that is meant to captivate my world and change it for the better. Perhaps it is wishful thinking, but either way, I am grateful for such the short time I have been granted with her.

If it wasn’t for Elise, I would have forgotten all about my birthday two weeks ago. Birthdays have never been my thing, they are usually nothing but an emotional wreck for several different reasons. I was never the one to get a birthday party every year, and when I did get thrown a birthday party, it usually ended up in someone crying, whether it be myself, my sister, my mother or anyone else who showed up. My birthday is always laced with some sort of melancholy and fighting. There were years I didn't even see my mother because she was busy working or sorting things out. My birthday became just another day to me, something I didn't wish to celebrate once I reached sixteen. One can only take so much disappointment before it gets to a point where the plug needs to be pulled. But this year it was different, Elise found out somehow about my birthday and met me after work, she waited until I closed the store. It was the sweetest thing that made my heart melt, her simple gestures and her angelic smile was enough to revive the good birthday sensations I hadn’t felt in a long time.

I suddenly stop strumming my guitar as I hear Elise clear her throat. She must have entered my apartment quietly. “Hey,” I beam as I turn to her and place my guitar down.

“Hey, that was a nice melody. I didn’t know you were musically talented.”

I shake my head, “I’m not,” I try to alter my voice to not sound so dismissive but I can’t help it. My love for music is tainted and no matter what I do, I can’t get it back to its purity.

Elise nods and I stand to my feet to give her the proper greeting she deserves; a sweet kiss. “Thank you for coming with me tonight, I do appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome,” she replies.

“I know I am probably the world's worst boyfriend; I didn’t get you some big fancy gift. I did get you your favourite cake from that coffee shop we went to the first night we officially met and I did cave and buy you a teddy bear,” I smirk at Elise as I take her hand and lead her to the kitchen where I have her cake and teddy bear already on the counter. “I know it isn’t diamonds or an extravagant dinner, but this is all I can offer. One day I will buy you diamonds.”

Elise smiles up at me, “I don’t need diamonds or a fancy dinner, still just need you and your sweet and somewhat reserved self.”

“Mhm, you say that now,” I chuckle as she wraps her arms around me and looks up at me.

“I mean it,” Elise assures me, “so how about we eat this cake and spend the last hour of valentine's day on the couch?”

“Seems perfect to me,” I agree, leaning down and kissing her lips delicately before we part ways and she cuts the cake.

Elise hands me my plate and I guide her to the living room where she gets comfortable on the couch, “so, I have a question for you.”

“Go ahead.” Elise nods.

“How do you know Jamie?” I challenge, well aware that they have to know each other somehow considering he knew her name.

Elise grows quiet for a moment before she looks up at me, “well, we are related, he is my Dad’s brother.”

My eyes grow wide, “your family are apart of RLAM?”

“Just my uncle,” Elise corrects me.

“So, your uncle, who I intern for, manages £106 billion of assets?”

“Yes. Jamie is my uncle.” Elise informs me and for a moment I feel like my world crashes down on me. I had not intended for this to happen. Now it looks like I am privileged because I just happen to be dating the niece of one of the biggest CEO’s.

Shit. Now I feel bad for the times I thought he was a lonely man who didn’t seem to leave his office often.

“What a small world,” I murmur and Elise cocks her head to the side and looks at me.

“That doesn’t change anything, does it?”

I am not sure what it could change besides my career. Fuck.

I shake my head, “of course not, still wanna be with yeh,” I assure her with a smirk and a subtle wink, “does this mean I get to go in late and sleep in for a change?” I joke around with her and she rolls her eyes at me, “no? Fine,” I grin, “why didn’t you tell me sooner it was your uncle?”

Elise shrugs, “I didn’t know until we were at his building. You never told me the company you interned for.”

“That makes sense,” I respond.

Elise and I avoid work-related conversations for the rest of the night, and we make the best of the last hour of Valentines Day we have, cuddled on the couch and relaxed.

Thank you to @harrystylesgotmeknockedup for helping and being a Beta for this Chapter. Xx

#harry styles imagines #harry styles prompt #harry styles prompts #imagine harry styles #harry styles blurbs #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles preference #harry styles preferences #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfics #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles writing

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evil-wears-a-ufo · 3 years ago

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🚩Record screeching halt🚩

Okay, first off. Problem with this post— no citations. No links/science to back up their claims. 🚩

Second, On your first claim I’m not sure where you’re garnering this evidence? But. Anti-depressants combined with behavioral therapy can be a complete game changer in mental health.

Directly relates to below…

Thirdly, On your second claim? If you got a broken leg and it’s broken pretty badly in multiple places? Are you gonna take Tylenol and keep running/walking on it?

No? You can’t just take a drug and expect it to make it all better. That goes for diabetes too, or any autoimmune disease.

Trust me I would know.

As someone who’s had anti depressants save my life, only to have my body begin rejecting treatment due to an autoimmune reaction? I can tell you from experience, my brain was broken in several places and kept me from literal unal!ve attempts.

This claim is such a 🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩 BIG ASS red flag. Holy shit. You don’t take a drug or expect any medical treatment to get fine on its own in most situations. Physical therapy, time, doctors visits, casts, or therapy! Those are ways to heal!

🟢Fourthly, Thousands of factors go into mental states.🟢

What I found ironic about this, is? This is so true?! This is the only fact you spit!

Sadly however, you are woefully misguided or just uneducated past a 101/102 class or this isn’t your major.

PSYCHAIATRY FIGURED THIS OUT ^ all of it!!

Without psychology, we’d still be treating homosexuals like dirt. We’d still be using eugenics to fucking legitimize racism, antisemitism, ablism. You name it MY SCIENCE PIONEERED IT.

Fifthly, One could reason, and they’d be right to an extent, that the early American roots with APA and DSM databases were founded on poorly made principles and facts.

But the scientific method, neuroscience, psychopharmacology has given us an age of medical marijuana, truths about addiction, alcoholism, suicide, brain chemistry… PSYCHOLOGY.

Look as a legally disabled, mentally ill, neurodivergent, psyche major in honors who’s going to go for their masters at the very least?

I can attest the system is broken, and a lot of psychologists debate the dsm 5 and it’s testaments in general. That’s why it’s a study, being researched and is evolving every day.

There’s a legit REASON that drugs and practice aren’t very well studied, tested, and are brand new-to be debated? Psychology as a science is relatively new! The term psychology wasnt even invented until The Nuremberg Trials! That’s less than a hundred years ago!

Think about medical science! How far it’s evolved because medical science has been devoted to for hundreds of years and psychology itself has less than 100 of them?!

Before you knock on Psychaiatry and psychology as a science, do more research (kindly) and please don’t knock it. That is exceptionally damaging, and people need to feel open to treatment and to getting help!

You’re doing mental health a grave disservice with this train of thinking, and you should be ashamed.

It’s okay, to be ambiguous, it’s okay to have questions. But how about? Ask a psych student, ask someone who does copious research before making egregarious claims! And? Try to read studies and do your own digging into peer reviewed methods before biting into psych? Hmm?

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK361016/

You can find research pointing any way you want regarding antidepressants or psychoactive drugs. But, your claims are referring to mostly major-depressive disorders. NOT disorders like BPD, DID, Schizophrenia etc etc which have substantially higher success rates with treatment… so.

I honestly feel like a psychology education hands you the tools to be anti-psychiatry, you just have to put everything together.

things I was literally taught in class:

anti-depressants haven’t been shown to work better than placebos

only one or two of the psych drugs that have ever been created have been shown to work on their own without therapy; most do not improve on results seen in therapy; some make therapy less likely to work

literally thousands of factors affect people’s mental states; those who go through trauma and come from less privileged backgrounds are more likely to be psychologically disturbed but less likely to be able to get help

DSM diagnoses are somewhat arbitrary, change often, and should only be used to the extent that they are useful (from one of the people who worked on the DSM-V no less)

reaching anti-psychiatry conclusions is just a matter of breaking out of how normalized psychiatry is.

#me #Psychaiatry #psychology #psych #mental health #tw: mental health #psychopharmacology #neuroscience

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aion-rsa · 3 years ago

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10 Best Movies of 2021 (So Far)

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Can you ever really go home? Millions of cinephiles are likely asking themselves this as summer 2021 winds down with doubt again lingering over their favorite movie houses. For a time, theaters were once again open for big business in the U.S. and UK, and remain so in at least one of those venues. But box office reports paint an ambiguous future, and many casual moviegoers clearly remain reluctant about returning to the cinema.

Nonetheless, it’s still good to be back in those old familiar places, as well as to have an ever expanding list of options to discover on streaming. Compared to last year, 2021 feels like a sunny balm, particularly now that the heaviest hitters and biggest surprises of July and the dog days of summer have landed.

It’s why we typically save our “mid-year” ranking for that deep breath between the end of summer escapism and the awards season push that begins in September. There have been some real treats on the 2021 calendar, so whether you’ve seen the entire list below or are looking for something you missed, sit back and enjoy a collection of the best movies of 2021. So far.

10. Barb and Star Go to Vista Del Mar

Kristen Wiig and Annie Mumolo wrote and star in this bizarre, brightly colored, and utterly joyful comedy that defies expectations throughout. The two are middle-aged best friends who take their very first vacation to Florida together to visit the idyllic Vista del Mar.

But it’s not all cocktails and banana boats. Behind the scenes, super villain Sharon Fisherman (also played by Wiig) has an evil plan for the resort. With shades of the best of Austin Powers (though far more sincere) Barb and Star is a good natured friendship comedy through a surrealist lens, which could scratch an itch for anyone missing a bit of beach time this year.

9. Psycho Goreman

Unexpected gem of the year surely goes to this utterly bonkers grue-filled cosmic horror B-movie which is also really funny and kind of sweet at the same time. It follows annoying little shit Mimi (Nita-Josee Hanna) who bullies her brother Luke (Owen Myre) mercilessly. After defeating him in a game of “crazy ball,” Luke’s punishment is to dig his own grave (!) but instead the pair discover an artifact which turns out to be the key to controlling a universal evil imprisoned on earth for trying to destroy the galaxy.

So of course Mimi names him Psycho Goreman and forces him to hang out with her family and friends despite his insistence that he will bathe in their blood the moment he is freed. From Steven Kostanski, the director of 2016’s The Void, Psycho Goreman is a spot-on blend of brutal slaying and hardcore gore, a cosmic plotline involving an alien council and a wholesome family comedy. An unexpected delight.

8. Cruella

Emma Stone is a punk rock designer in the mold of Vivienne Westwood in this vibrant London-set comedy, which is on paper a prequel to 101 Dalmatians. But in reality, take it as a standalone and you’ll have way more fun.

Up and coming fashionista Estella manages to impress one of the leading designers The Baroness (Emma Thompson) and secures a coveted job at her world famous fashion house. But when Estella discovers a dark secret relating to her own past, she takes on the outrageous alter-ego Cruella to destroy The Baroness by out-fashioning her at every opportunity.

Packed with banging tunes and great dresses, Cruella is a high energy spectacle but it’s the sparring of the two Emmas that brings the real electricity. Forget any future she might have as a puppy killer, in her own film, Cruella is a legend.

7. In the Heights

The sunniest film to hit theaters this season, Jon M. Chu’s In the Heights was as sugary sweet as the frozen Piragua Lin-Manuel Miranda hocks around this movie’s block. Based on the Hamilton composer’s earlier Tony winning musical, the picture was the rare thing: a Broadway adaptation that actually soars as high as its stage production and (rarer still) the first Hollywood blockbuster with an all-Latinx cast.

Movies

How Cruella Got That Crazy Expensive Soundtrack

By Don Kaye

Movies

In the Heights: You Need to Stay for Post-Credits Scene

By David Crow

The film came under fair criticism on social media for not being as inclusive as it could be, but that shouldn’t be the last word on such a big-hearted achievement. From the buoyant performances which have already opened doors for Anthony Ramos and Leslie Grace’s immense charisma, to the Latin, salsa, and hip-hop infused melodies which celebrate a culture long left out of the Hollywood image of American life, In the Heights is a jubilant celebration. There really hasn’t been a giddier time at the multiplex this year. Plus, those “96,000” and “Carnaval del Barrio” sequences really are fire.

6. Zola

Based on a “true” story which was told via a series of tweets posted back in 2015 (and the subsequent Rolling Stone article that brought the tale to prominence), Zola is a stranger-than-fiction saga seen through the lens of social media. An ultra contemporary, experimental, low budget comedy-thriller with a backdrop of abuse and sex trafficking, the film is as willfully uncomfortable to watch as it is massively entertaining.

From the jump, Zola (Taylour Paige) is a Detroit waitress and part time exotic dancer who meets a customer named Stefani (Riley Keough) and agrees to take a trip with her to Florida to hit up strip clubs where Stefani promises they’ll make a lot of money. With them are Stefani’s feckless boyfriend (Succession’s Nicholas Braun) and her obviously dodgy roommate. Sometimes told through spoken tweets with switches in perspective, this marks director Janicza Bravo as a compelling new voice, and her cast of leads as nothing short of captivating.

How much of what you’re watching actually happened? Well, that’s the elusive quality of social media…

5. Judas and the Black Messiah

Fred Hampton was murdered with the consent and planning of law enforcement at both federal and local jurisdiction levels. That Judas and the Black Messiah made this common knowledge would be reason enough for consideration. Yet that director Shaka King tells Hampton’s story so thrillingly here elevates his film into one of the most compelling crime dramas in years—only with the FBI’s illegal COINTELPRO program being the primary criminal element.

Told from the perspective of the man who spied on the Black Panthers and eventually facilitated the raid that took Hampton’s life, Judas radiates a despairing quality which somehow can still feel electrifying whenever Daniel Kaluuya’s powerhouse performance takes center stage. Which is pretty much any time the Black Panther chairman takes the microphone. Kaluuya deserved his Oscar, but LaKeith Stanfield’s paranoid turn as Bill O’Neal, the poor bastard coerced into being a snitch while still a kid, is what gets under your skin and walks beside you after the credits roll.

4. Pig

Are there really folks out there who wandered into a screening of Pig and assumed they’d get the Nicolas Cage knockoff of John Wick? I like to think so, just as I love to imagine what they said to each other afterward. To be sure, Michael Sarnoski’s Pig sounds on paper like something in that ballpark: Cage plays a hermit living in self-exile from his past life when ruffians steal his beloved… truffle pig. In response, he comes down from the mountain, ready to reengage with the old ways.

Movies

Judas and the Black Messiah Remembers Fred Hampton Was a Man of His Words

By Tony Sokol

Movies

The Suicide Squad Character Guide, Easter Eggs, and DCEU References

By Mike Cecchini

Yet when you realize those old ways involve being the greatest chef in his state—and reengagement means partaking in a fight club that’s far more pitiful than it sounds and simply cooking gourmet meals—the more apparent it is that this is a sophisticated, nuanced allegory about grief and self-identity. Anchored by Cage’s best performance in a long, long time, Pig is a gentle and revelatory experience that slowly unpacks its brilliance piece by piece, vignette by vignette. For those coming in wanting fast food, this probably will be a disappointment. For all others, it’s a resplendent five course meal.

3. The Suicide Squad

For once the marketing wasn’t kidding. Writer-director James Gunn does have a horribly beautiful mind, and we at last get to see it fully unleashed on a superhero property. Yes, the filmmaker made many cry over a CGI tree and talking raccoon in the Guardians of the Galaxy films, but perhaps not since Logan has a storyteller seen such free rein over valuable studio IP. Gunn didn’t waste it.

The Suicide Squad plays very much like the men and women on a mission ‘60s capers its director grew up on, but that structure is channelled here through a filthy and deranged sensibility. How else can you describe a picture that makes you want to cuddle a land shark who just swallowed a bystander whole? The Suicide Squad does that and more while providing a showcase for sure things like Margot Robbie’s irresistible Harley Quinn, as well as the dregs and rejects of DC Comics who ultimately steal the movie: David Dastmalchian’s Polka-Dot Man and Daniela Melchior’s Ratcatcher 2, namely. Box office be damned, this is one of the best superhero films ever made and will be a classic in the years to come.

2. The Green Knight

When you hear the name “King Arthur,” certain elements spring to mind. It’s one of those classic properties which have been adapted, exploited, and parodied with killer rabbits ad nauseam. Even so, it’s safe to say you’ve never seen the lore become as foreboding and startling as this. Reimagined through the gaze of writer-director David Lowery, the 14th century poem Sir Gawain and the Green Knight at last takes on a trippy and witchy connotation. An interpretation that pulls as much from medieval paganism as it does obsessions with chivalry and Christian virtue, The Green Knight successfully reinvents its Arthurian quest into a journey toward certain doom.

Movies

The Green Knight: Why David Lowery and Dev Patel Reimagined Arthurian Legend

By David Crow

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The Green Knight Ending Explained

By David Crow

As the central figure on that mission, Dev Patel reveals superstar charisma and the ability to completely command the screen. His version of Gawain, the wayward nephew of King Arthur (Sean Harris), is vain, cowardly, selfish, and somehow wholly sympathetic as he searches for Ralph Ineson’s Green Knight: a godlike creature who has promised to behead Gawain when they meet again. Through it all, Lowery and company craft a sumptuous world that in every shot looks like the most transportive Dungeons and Dragons cover you’ve ever seen. The atmosphere is oppressively brooding, and it will not appeal to everyone. Yet like the very best films released by indie distributor A24, there is a touch of mad genius at work here that demands to be seen and then seen again.

1. Inside

As arguably the best piece of art to come out of 2020’s torments, Bo Burnham’s Inside was not marketed or even conceived of as a film. Nevertheless, it slowly transformed into one throughout its months-long production process, which forewent mere sketch humor to reveal an undeniably cinematic, experimental, and ultimately bleak heart. In other words, it’s a perfect distillation of how all mediums are blurring into that loathsome word: content.

Through heavily edited, conceived, and revised set-pieces, the film’s director, star, writer, and composer lays his insecurities and vanities bare. Filmed inside Burnham’s home studio space, Inside is the result of the young filmmaker behind Eighth Grade becoming acutely aware he’s regressed to his early resources as a teenage YouTube star: a camera, a music keyboard, some synth programs, and hours of idle boredom.

Within those numbing hours, Burnham built something both reflective and suspicious about technology, the internet culture which gave him his career, and even his own self-image. With a catchy songbook of synthesized bangers, many of which echo ’80s pop ballads, Burnham crystallizes better than any typical three-act film the anxieties and delirium of a year spent mostly at home. He also provides a scathing critique of how our concepts of communication and identity have been co-opted and undermined by tech companies whose products incite division for profit—all while still releasing his film on the biggest streaming platform in the world. It’s a challenging, self-loathing, and haunted piece of work that will invariably become a time capsule for its moment in history.

Runner ups that almost made the cut: Annette, Black Widow, Coda, Mr. Soul, No Sudden Move, Raya and the Last Dragon, Rita Moreno: Just a Girl Who Decided to Go For It, The Sparks Brothers, Val.

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