#or who makes the most banging arts project or some bullshit
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Teen Wolf S5 becomes a million times more hilarious once you imagine that the Chimera Pack all still go to Beacon Hills alongside the McCall pack. They go through lessons together. I bet Theo forces the Chimeras to all sit with him at one table while the puppy pack sits sat at the polar opposite side of lunch hall. I bet they gang up against each other during Gym. I bet the classmates/teachers assume they’re just rival cliques
#I know that technically only Corey went to school out of Theo’s pack. BUT STILL!#high school rival cliques puppy pack vs chimera#practical lessons leaders Liam vs Theo#Mason and Corey’s whole Romeo and Juliet romance#shitpost#teen wolf#Theo raeken#Liam Dunbar#Corey Bryant#Mason Hewitt#Tracy Stewart#josh Diaz#Scott McCall#their victories against each other are like who wins class president#or who makes the most banging arts project or some bullshit#Corey and Tracy are part of a team! Theo gets to have fun doing something ‘normal!’#josh. is josh.#Lydia Martin#Malia Tate#Kira yukimura#stiles stilinski
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22, 24, 25
22. your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores
canon is not always great at doing this either, but trauma and disability. i look at some of my faves — rita farr, josee, vegas theerapanyakul, ai di, hartley rathaway, teresa mendoza, rita west — and they’re fucking absolute messes, all defined by some brutal shit. their respective canons have handled this with varying degrees of sensitivity (you know exactly who i’m subtweeting) and i don’t participate in all of the fandoms for these pieces of media, but i turn into an absolutely wild beast when people gloss over that because it’s too much of a challenge to include. people who faced years of childhood abuse or who were suddenly confronted with an unexpected, uncontrollable loss of autonomy are going to struggle with those things. one of these characters got shot multiple times in the abdomen, for chrissakes. and people are like ‘idk i guess he can have a marathon fuck sesh it’s cool this won’t interfere with his life in any way’ like YES IT WILL YES IT IS FUCKING PERMANENT, DIANE. there are physical effects and limitations that never go away. there is an ongoing, volatile sense of loss that will body you over and over again for the rest of your life. i love josee for tapping into the anger of disability (you know how i feel about my best girl) but i also love characters whose canons force them to grapple with a reality thrust upon them at a point in their lives when they can draw a clear delineation between Me Before and Me Now, rather than those who have never known the grief of your bodily function being ripped from you unexpectedly. and that isn’t just disability. that’s betrayal and abuse and loss of security and stability and identity. and if you can’t actually deal with the whole of a character’s raw ugly misery and anger on top of the fun fluffy bits to read or write then MAYBE the messes are not your arena.
24. topic that brings up the most rancid discourse
ooooh i’m gonna get canceled for this one but i will block people who get into internet slapfights about gender and sexuality. i’m an old shithead so i find the trend of needing to affix 500 microlabels to every character exhausting, especially in canons where none of these people would have the remotest fucking idea what you’re banging on about. and further, i find it extremely off-putting when a male character expresses traits that aren’t in lockstep with stereotypical or toxic masculinity and immediately gets painted as trans. i see one of these essays where you spend 10k assigning things to a character that are really just you projecting your own identity onto your fave and onto the blocklist you go. some of y’all make me miss fucking kinnies.
i also cannot fucking abide ship wars, because i came from a fandom where people got so mad about a pairing taking up too much screen time they engineered a plot to ruin a real person’s career over it (that was wave one of the bullshit, but i digress). i have watched that shit happen for years and years and yeaaaars — usagi/mamoru and seiya/usagi fans used to throw temper tantrums at each other like they were getting paid to, way back in the day — and it has never gotten any less noxious. it has, in fact, just gotten fucking worse with the increasing curdling of twitter and stan culture. it was bad enough when it was just screaming at each other over which boring girl harry potter should bone but now people have let that shit spill into the real world. now it’s just a normal thing to try to affect someone’s careers, or discuss your rpf ships in front of the people involved. FUCKING BOUNDARIES. LEARN THEM. RESPECT THEM. what the fuck is wrong with you people. stop sharing your fics with them or tagging them in your art. and yes, that even goes for bryan fuller. just because he’s a freak who probably beat off to all the hannibal/will art you sent him doesn’t mean you should have sent it in the first place.
25. common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing
since you’re my BTS buddy…i wish for a meteorite to strike everyone who identifies as an army because if i’m stupid enough to go into the tag, 99% of the posts are ‘hybe/bighit is out to sabotage (fave’s) career’ or ’this is why (ship) is the only truth and everyone else is a dirty sinner going to hell for wrongthink’ and holy shit TAKE A MIKE’S HARD LOOK AT YOURSELVES FOR FIVE MINUTES. if you are so deeply invested in the sex lives of some random korean guys that you are getting legitimately angry at other people on the internet about them not thinking your preferred boy is making the sign of the two-backed aardvark with your other preferred boy, log off. go the fuck outside. i’m not above cracking jokes but some of y’all are rolling out the murderboards and obsessively documenting every single moment their faves happen to be in the same area of the stage to explain why one of them moving their little finger an inch to the right means he’s gonna get his ass eaten after the show.
the career sabotage shit i don’t even know, understand, or care to know. i see it in the tag fucking constantly and it exhausts me. i need to not engage in baseless conspiracy theories. i’m not here for this. just like i’m not here to figure out who in the group is taking a ride on the humpatron 3000, i’m not here to go through a million posts on 50 social media sites every day combing every single word choice for evidence that my faves are one wrong step from being put to death by bighit management. i just want to enjoy myself for five goddamn minutes.
as a very casual new fan, my experience has been 1% gifs of people whose faces and talent i enjoy and 99% screeching harridan drama whose point entirely eludes me. i hate all of these people. i hope they fall into the ocean. maybe the fish will be a more receptive audience than i am.
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omg i want to hear about romulan embassy siskarak
WIP ask meme
Omg, yes, thank you for asking, I’m so excited about this one!!!! :D The fic idea appeared to me fully formed as soon as I saw this post by @the-last-dillards about how in a scene cut from “The Wire”, Sisko mentions that he and Curzon were at an embassy on Romulus when Sisko was about Julian's age, and dillards speculated that it would be funny if Sisko and Curzon happened to be there at the same time as Garak was on Romulus posing as a gardener. Most everyone else who saw that post was like "lmao Curzon/Garak <3" and while that is extremely funny too, the Sisko/Garak implications are soooo much more interesting to me personally.
I think Sisko would be an interesting parallel-but-not-quite to Julian. I feel like young Sisko would be similarly bright and passionate and idealistic, which we KNOW is a type Garak is attracted to, but unlike Julian, Sisko would NOT put up with Garak’s bullshit mindgames, he would NOT find Garak inherently charming.
And then there’s Garak, still young, on top of his game, feeling confident and powerful and indestructible (but ultimately just Tain’s pawn... he’s been indoctrinated to love Cardassia unconditionally and hasn’t really had that challenged in any way yet).
They would both find each other extremely grating. Sisko embodies everything Garak hates about the Federation, so Garak would want to take him down a peg, make him sink to Garak’s level. Sisko would be infuriated by Garak’s duplicitous and condescending nature, but maybe Garak also keeps saying things that are juuuust provocative enough that Sisko can’t seem to help arguing back against his points (and Sisko really doesn’t get how that’s somehow turning both of them on...).
So that’s the gist why I’m obsessed with the potential for this pairing during pre-canon in general. Now onto the fic itself! Juuuust in case I never get around to actually writing this, here’s my detailed plan for the romulan embassy siskarak fic:
Sisko and Curzon are on assignment at the Federation embassy on Romulus. The Federation embassy is holding an open house next week. Sisko offers to help cook the food for the event, because he has an idea to incorporate ingredients from other cultures into his jambalaya recipe to Symbolize how cultural exchange can lead to amazing new technological advances and/or art and/or political alliances (or idk, whatever overwrought metaphor an excited young Sisko decides is galaxy brain levels of diplomacy). Curzon's just like “hell yeah, sounds great, kid! go for it!”
So Ensign Sisko (or whatever his rank is at that point idk) asks around at the other embassies nearby for ingredients native to their homeworlds. They give him some recommendations, but he’d have to replicate or import the ingredients. But then he gets to the Cardassian embassy and they have this beeeeautiful garden, overflowing with native Cardassian produce. Sisko asks the gardener there (Garak) if he can possibly use some of the vegetables for his jambalaya of interplanetary diplomacy.
Garak is instantly annoyed by how performative and insipid Sisko’s project is... but Garak knows he has to play nice and hand over the vegetables. He also knows how much he doesn't want sisko rendering these vegetables he's been diligently tending into tasteless inedible garbage that an unrefined Federation or Romulan palate couldn’t possibly even appreciate... So he smiles politely, and offers to show him the proper way to cook it. Tonight. In Sisko’s quarters.
Garak internally justifies this unnecessary dinner date by deciding that it will be a good opportunity to scope out the inside of the Federation embassy. And so what if he’s also getting a little riled up thinking about all the delicious arguments he might have with this headstrong and attractive Starfleet officer? So what if he kind of wants to figure out what he has to say in order break Sisko’s composure? What he can say that would make Sisko, despite his self-satisfied demeanor of peace and acceptance and understanding, angrily slam Garak into the wall hard enough to trigger the pleasurable rush of the implant...?
Meanwhile back in sisko POV... Sisko gladly accepts, actually quite eager to learn more about cooking, and a little curious about this strange Cardassian gardener who seems a little bit interested in him. (He’s not annoyed by Garak yet, because all he’s seen is his mask, his poker face.) Curzon’s taught Sisko everything about diplomacy and how to be a Starfleet officer and how to be a person, and sisko looks up to him in a bit of an unhealthy way. Sisko knows that the easiest way to impress Curzon is to score with an alien. Sisko’s maybe a little curious to see if that’s what Garak is interested in, so that Sisko will have something to brag about with Curzon.
[sidenote: idk where Jennifer is in this timeline (but also the canon timeline of when Curzon and Sisko were off on adventures that included banging twin alien chicks and getting falling-down-drunk together seems inconsistent with the canon timeline of when Sisko and Jennifer met lolll)... anyway, maybe bennifer are on a break bc of the long-distance while he’s on Romulus, and/or bc she maybe doesn’t particularly like the influence Curzon has had on him and they very recently got in a fight about it.]
Okay, so now it’s that night in Sisko’s quarters. For now let’s just gloss right over the (presumably horny as hell) scene about the chopping and stewing and seasoning of the vegetables—during which the arguments (and resulting tensions) between them build and build, from little things like vegetable chopping techniques to the fundamental paradigms of their worldviews and senses of morality—and let’s fast forward directly into the middle of their fight about whether the federation sucks more than the cardassian empire: Garak out of nowhere just starts undoing his shirt while saying something inflammatory questioning the federation’s true commitment to cultural exchange... Garak basically implies that Sisko is a hypocrite who has been arguing for ideals he doesn’t believe in if he doesn’t want to bang Garak RIGHT NOW...
And then they bang, And it’s a mess, and they HATE each other, and it’s really hot. Or at least, that’s the idea. ( @delicatetrashstranger volunteered to help write the E-rated part, for which I am very grateful, lol.) In the end, the weird space jambalaya burns while they are going at it, and everything is ruined and smells terrible, and Sisko doesn’t even WANT to brag about this one to Curzon, because he is not proud of how he let Garak get under his skin. Garak maybe experiences A Consequence of some kind that makes him realize he can’t recklessly throw himself at Federation hotties (like... maybe something Sisko says makes him question a Truth he was certain of, or maybe this fling has jeopardized his assassination plans somehow, or maybe there is a close call where he almost reveals something personal about himself, or almost accidentally leaves behind his underwear, which is where he keeps some of his sci fi Spy Gadgets, lol idk).
The end!
Hope you’ve enjoyed this summary of my fic... I hope I actually write it one day XD (If anyone feels inspired by any aspect of this and wants to run with it, PLEASE DO! Also, if, like me, you desperately Need this fic to exist, feel free to let me know that you’re excited about it! My brain is all garashir all the time, so any WIP that’s not garashir sometimes needs to be helped along by external motivation lol.)
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Welcome to chapter 14!
This one has been a long time coming, and I’m not just talking about how long it took me to write.
Fair warning: we see the return of why this fic is marked with an explicit violence tag.
Hope you enjoy!
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Scattered Cicadas - Chapter Fourteen: Monkey Sees, Monkey Silenced
Tang is the Monkie Kid! Or should that be the Monkey Kid?
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Tang wondered why it had taken so long for a cycle like this one to happen. He tightened his grip on the Ruyi Jingu Bang as he solemnly watched the city shrink into the distance.
He and MK were swapped in this cycle. Tang was a young 24 year old delivery boy who lived above Pigsy’s Noodles and had a thirst for knowledge. MK, or Mr. Xiaotian, as Tang referred to him, was a 41 year old art professor at the local university who liked to tell Tang stories about the Monkey King.
That meant Tang was Wukong’s successor in this timeline. Or at least, he would be once he met the Monkey King at Flower Fruit Mountain. They were all currently on Sandy’s ship, sailing for the Flaming Mountains that surrounded the island paradise.
Tang took a breath as he felt the magic of the staff flow through him. He had noticed the transfer of the Monkey King’s powers into him the moment he had picked it up. It was very different to any other magics or powers he had in the past.
It was a raw, wild, and pure strength that dwarfed any of his previous skills in terms of power. Tang could feel it swirling inside him. The numerous different abilities all seemed to flow into each other and filled him to almost bursting with great destructive potential. He would have to learn how to properly control them to avoid causing too much collateral damage.
MK had managed to do so countless times before, and Tang himself had many experiences with learning new powers over the cycles. How hard could it be?
Tang turned his attention to the ring of volcanoes they were approaching. He wasn’t sure how closely he would have to stick to the original timeline, but decided not to push his luck with the more important events. That meant he would have to lose the staff when confronted by Princess Iron Fan.
That shouldn’t be too difficult. He may have trained with a long pole-type weapon, but it had been a long time since he had been able to practice. Not to mention how one wielded a staff was much different from how you would wield a guandao. Tang would have no problem losing this fight.
Now he only hoped he would be blasted in the right direction to land on Flower Fruit Mountain instead of into a pool of lava.
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Luckily for Tang, he was indeed launched in the proper direction. Landing on the beach would have hurt a lot more had it not been for his new power of invulnerability.
Tang watched as the waterfall curtain parted at his touch, making sure to appear suitably impressed. That wasn’t too hard considering he had always needed either Wukong or MK to open it for him in the past.
He entered the cave and looked around, calling out for the Monkey King. Tang approached the mural at the back of the cave, and felt magic flow into his eyes unbidden. The world around him turned into shining shades of gold as his True Sight activated.
Tang watched in awe as the figures on the mural seemed to come to life and began reenacting moments from the famous journey. He may have memories of actually living these events, but seeing them now was still something special.
In front of him was Wukong becoming Tripitaka’s disciple. Over there was Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing fighting with some demons. Off in the corner was MK, Mei, Pigsy, Sandy, and Wukong standing over his unconscious body. Then there was Macaque, the gold and silver twins, and Spider Queen. Bai Long Ma trotted past with Tripitaka on his back.
Wait, what?
Tang whirled back around to the forms of his family and himself.
No, he had not imagined it. Laying on the ground was the sleeping form of his normal 41 year old self. Projections of the five people he considered his closest family were standing nearby. Sandy and Pigsy seemed to be having a conversation, Wukong was lounging on his tail, and Mei and MK, who was in his normal young form, were looking around the cave.
MK’s and Tang’s eyes met.
The young man seemed to explode into motion as he grabbed the attention of the others and began excitedly pointing at the scholar. The five began waving frantically at him, and Tang, at a complete loss as to what was happening, gave a halfhearted wave back.
Their reaction to that was much more extreme.
MK and Mei were jumping in place as they hugged in joy. Sandy was grinning as he waved both arms even harder. Wukong performed a back flip before pumping his fist in the air. Pigsy looked like he was laughing so hard that tears were rolling down his face.
Tang was absolutely baffled.
Wary of some kind of trick, he looked around the cave once more. With his True Sight active, he saw no signs of anything that could potentially be a trap. He did spot one of the projections of Wukong smirk at him before turning to run out of the cave, however.
Squinting in suspicion at the still celebrating group, Tang decided he would deal with it later. Letting the magic fade from his eyes, he chased after the Monkey King. He did his best to push the strange encounter out of his mind so he could focus on the task at hand.
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Fighting Demon Bull King using the full strength of the Monkey King’s power had been quite the rush. Tang felt a little bad about all the extra damage he had caused, but most of it had already been dealt by DBK so he supposed it was worth it to take him down.
Sighing in exhaustion, Tang prepared for bed. As he moved around his small apartment, his eyes caught the glow of the street lamps reflecting off his window, making it shine gold.
Oh right. Those projections of his family from earlier.
With a groan, Tang decided sleep would have to wait. He took a seat in his desk chair and took a deep breath. It took a bit of focus, but he was able to push magic into his eyes and activate his True Sight.
The world turned gold and the group appeared to his left near the kitchenette. Tang swiveled his chair around and watched as they noticed him studying them and began to wave excitedly once more. It looked like they were all saying something, yet no sound emanated from them.
Well that complicated a few things. Getting answers from them would be a lot harder without them being able to properly answer.
“You know I can’t hear anything you’re saying, right?”
The group froze at that, before quickly turning to each other and discussing amongst themselves.
“To be honest, I’m not sure if I trust what I’m seeing,” Tang said, catching their attention once more. “You all certainly look like my family, and Wukong’s True Sight can’t be fooled. But I’ve been through quite a bit of cosmic bullshit to know to be wary of what appears to be people I care about standing over what looks like my unresponsive body.”
The group glanced down at said body and began to shuffle around in awkward embarrassment.
“So here’s what we’re going to do.” Tang pointed at the projection of MK. “You, MK, are going to do your best to act out what’s going on. The rest of you,” he turned to the others, “are not to offer any help or instruction in any way, understand?”
They all reluctantly nodded, looking confused.
“Good. Begin whenever you’re ready.”
Tang watched as the young man did his best to act something out. As the performance continued, Tang felt the suspicion slowly ease and a smile grew on his face.
“Well I know for certain now,” he said once MK had finished. “No matter the timeline, you will always be terrible at charades, MK. No one could ever pretend to do that poorly.”
MK exploded with indignity as the others laughed at him. He crossed his arms in a huff and only turned back to the group once Wukong ruffled his hair playfully.
Tang smiled again as he watched the interaction. Being a good actor came with the ability to tell when others were acting as well. The reactions he was seeing were much too genuine to be faked.
“Okay, I believe you aren’t here for any malicious purposes. But now that I know I can trust you all, how can we go about figuring this out?” Tang drummed his fingers on the armrest of his chair. “I could ask you yes or no questions, but without the right ones we could go in circles for hours. Writing out the alphabet and pointing to each letter until we spell out a word would take just as long.”
Tang stood and tried to approach the group. As he did, their projections moved with him, staying a set distance away and phasing through the wall out into the open air. He moved back and turned in place. The group did not move with him this time, remaining in the spot they had appeared.
“Well so much for seeing if we could physically interact,” he said once he sat back down in his chair.
His family seemed just as stumped as he was. They all were talking back and forth before Wukong suddenly jumped up, waving for attention.
“You have an idea, Wukong?”
The monkey nodded before sitting in a meditative pose. After remaining still for a few moments, he took his hands and placed them on his chest. He pulled them away and cupped them before him and began to inspect them closely. It took a couple repetitions before Tang understood what he was trying to say.
“You want me to manifest my soul?”
Wukong nodded as Mei said something to MK, causing him to pout.
“Don’t tease MK, Mei,” Tang said as he got into his own meditative position. “There’s nothing wrong with not being able to act out complex ideas.”
The group all just stared at him in surprise.
“I may not be able to read bad acting, but body language is easy enough to understand,” he said as he began to focus. “Now give me a moment.”
Manifesting his soul while keeping the True Sight active was a bit tricky. He had learned this ability back during the cycle with the copy of Tripitaka sealed into a statue, but never had to use it at the same time as another power. It took him longer than usual, but he was eventually able to bring his soul forward.
It looked the same as it always did. Many strands of light loosely wrapped into the vague shape of a sphere and plenty of empty space in the center. The strand that pointed off into infinity was leading out the window above Tang’s bed. It had taken him a few cycles to realize it always pointed to the West.
“Okay, so what am I looking-” Tang trailed off when he spotted something new.
A second strand was leading off from his soul. It pointed in the exact opposite direction of the first, heading East. It ended at one of the little knots that represented the larger pieces of his soul.
It was positioned directly above the form of his unconscious body.
The others seemed to be able to see the strands as Wukong pointed at the knot floating above his body and began to mouth out a word.
“Start?”
Wukong nodded and pointed towards the strand leading out the window and said another word.
“End.”
Grinning enthusiastically, he finally pointed at the soul in Tang’s hands and said one last word.
“Now.”
Tang’s breath caught.
He knew the strand leading into the West was connected to all the remaining pieces of his soul and would eventually have an end once he reached the last one. He knew his soul looked the way it did to represent how much of it he had managed to gather currently.
That left the start.
Several pieces began to fall into place.
“You’re- You’re the voices I hear calling out my name at the start of each cycle.” Tang absently returned his soul and he stood and stared at the smiling group.
They nodded in affirmation.
Tang’s breath became shallow.
“Are you- Are you from my original timeline?”
The group burst into joyous celebration, nodding and giving each other high fives.
Tang sat back onto his chair in shock.
His family, his first family, were standing only a few feet away.
He didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or cry.
A sharp pain flashed behind his eyes before he could do either, and he grasped his head as it began to throb.
“Gah!”
He glanced up to see the group now watching him with concern. Wukong was gesturing at his own eyes, closing them slowly in exaggeration. Despite the pain, Tang was able to understand the message.
“Turn off the True Sight?”
Wukong nodded.
“But- ack!” The pain grew sharper. “But I have so many questions!”
Pigsy glared sternly at him and pointed to his bed. Sandy gave a comforting smile and pointed at the ground they were standing on.
Go to sleep and we’ll be here when you come back.
“Fine. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”
Wukong shook his head sadly and held up three figures.
“Three days?!” Tang gasped as the pain continued to build. “Shit! Okay, fine. Three days.” Tang gave them all one last look over. “I’ll see you then.”
They all gave him a thumbs up and Tang released his hold on the True Sight. He sighed in relief as the pain lessened slightly. His apartment looked much darker without the golden light filling everything.
Tang made his way into bed, physically and emotionally tired. He hated that he would have to wait for his answers. None of this made any sense.
His head throbbed painfully as he tried to think about what had just happened. Resigning himself to not being able to come to any sort of conclusion on his own, he settled down to sleep.
At least he had three days to come up with the proper questions he would need to ask. Hopefully the rest of the cycle would continue as normal so he could get some answers.
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The Wukong from his own time had been right when he had told him to wait three days before activating the True Sight again. The massive headache Tang had from overusing it lasted the entire time. It had distracted him during the incident with the weather station on the second day, making him quickly lose control of his abilities.
The seal this timeline’s Wukong had placed on his powers so he could control them helped a bit. The sharp pounding had only receded to a dull throb, but Tang found it to be a drastic improvement. He was able to take down Red Son and rescue his family fairly quickly afterwards.
It was currently the evening of the third day and Tang was making his way back to Pigsy’s Noodles after making his final delivery for the night. He drummed the steering wheel impatiently as he waited in traffic. His headache was completely gone so he could finally get some answers tonight once he was alone in his apartment.
The nerves and excitement eventually got to him and Tang began to take shortcuts down less used side streets to get back quicker. A few blocks away from the shop, he turned down one final alley that was shrouded in darkness, not thinking much of it.
He really should have expected being forcibly pulled from the vehicle and slammed up against the wall.
Before Tang could react, something was slapped against his chest and he felt the access to his powers cut off entirely while his body became paralyzed.
“So this is the Golden Boy’s so-called successor,” said a familiar voice. “Can’t say I’m too impressed.”
Tang’s blood ran cold as he stared up into the sneering face of the Six Eared Macaque. He did his best to struggle but whatever the shadow demon had done had left him completely immobilized.
“Don’t know why he would pick a weak little human like you. Your kind has such terrible senses. You didn’t even notice my presence until it was too late.” Macaque eyed Tang up and down, frowning in disapproval.
“He could have at least found another monkey like us. Would have been way more thematic.” Macaque smirked as he held up a small purple gem with a spiked point. “Luckily I have a way to fix that.”
Sweat rolled down the side of Tang’s face as he watched in fear while Macaque positioned the spiked end of the gem against the base of his throat.
“You can thank me for this later,” Macaque said with a manic and sinister grin.
Macaque stabbed the gem into his neck.
The paralyzing effect holding Tang in place broke and he convulsed on the ground as purple electricity raced across his body.
The last thing he was aware of was the sound of Macaque’s laughter mixing with his own screams before he mercifully blacked out.
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Tang slowly regained consciousness.
He didn’t have the dream about the cave so that meant it was still the same cycle. Whatever Macaque had done hadn’t killed him this time.
Although Tang wasn’t sure if the full body ache and fire in his throat was a better outcome.
He was in a bed he realized, and there were faint voices he could just pick up.
Not having the energy to move, he did his best to focus on what was being said.
“-managed to remove the second seal blocking his powers, but left the one that allows him to control them,” said a voice Tang didn’t recognize.
“What about the choker? Were you able to remove it?” Tang recognized Wukong’s worried tone right away.
“That is one nasty piece of jewelry,” said the first voice with a sigh. Tang assumed it was a healer of some kind. “One of its effects is that should anyone other than the one who put it on the victim remove it, the victim would immediately die.”
There were several sharp intakes of breath.
“That’s only one of the effects?” Mr. Xiaotian was here as well it seemed. Were they all waiting for him? “What all does this thing do?”
“There’s only three curses I detected,” said the healer. “You’ve seen the physical changes of the first, and know the dangers of the second. The third is perhaps the most cruel however.
“Your young friend is no longer capable of physically communicating complex thoughts or ideas.”
What?
“What does that mean?!” Pigsy sounded angry, but Tang could notice the undercurrent of fear. “Are you saying he’s lost his intelligence?”
“Not at all. His thoughts will just be trapped in his own mind and he will be unable to share them.”
Tang felt fear begin to gnaw at him.
The healer sighed once more, this time sounding saddened.
“It is truly an insidious curse.
“He’s been rendered completely mute, so he can’t talk. If he were to attempt using sign language, he would temporarily lose the coordination of his hands and fingers. Anything he will try to write or type out would end up as incomprehensible gibberish.
“The best he would be able to do is point at things and shake his head yes or no.”
Tang was suddenly cold.
That was…
No.
No no no no!
He couldn’t lose his ability to communicate! Not this cycle!
He finally had a lead to how this had all started! He needed to be able to ask his family from the original timeline questions!
Who knew when he would ever have access to Wukong’s True Sight again? If it ever happened at all?
Tang struggled to open his eyes, hissing in pain as the light filled his vision. He raised his arm to block it out, only to pause at what he saw.
Hadn’t the healer said there had been a curse that caused physical changes?
Bright golden-yellow fur covered his arm, and his hand had been replaced with a paw.
Ignoring his protesting body, Tang sat up and looked around. He wasn’t wearing his glasses, but it appeared he didn’t need them any more.
He wasn’t in a hospital. The room was set up in a traditional style with the typical furniture one would find in a guest room.
Tang found what he was looking for when he spotted the full length mirror on the opposite side of the dresser.
He climbed out of the bed and made his way over, doing his best to move past the pain.
Tang stepped in front of the mirror.
A monkey with golden-yellow fur, cream colored face and chest, and silver face markings that resembled an open book stared back.
Around the monkey’s neck was a black metal choker, the flat side of the purple gem at its center.
“He could have at least found another monkey like us. Luckily I have a way to fix that.”
Ah. So that’s what Macaque had meant.
Tang pressed his trembling fingers against the glass.
He really shouldn’t be so surprised. It had happened to MK so many times that he should have expected it to happen to him as well.
So why did he feel so numb?
Tang opened his mouth to try and say something, to try and prove the healer wrong. To convince himself this wasn’t actually happening.
But the only sound that came out was a raspy breath.
“Hey, bud?” Wukong poked his head through the door, frowning at Tang in worry when he saw him standing at the mirror. “You… You really shouldn’t be out of bed, kid.”
Tang nodded blankly, shuffling back over to the bed and sitting down. Wukong closed the door behind him and made his way over to sit beside him.
“I bet you have a bunch of questions,” Wukong said.
Tang shook his head.
“No?”
Tang pointed at the door and then to his ears.
“You heard us talking?”
Tang nodded.
“Oh.” Wukong shuffled nervously. “Are… Are you okay?”
Tang took a shuddering breath. He turned to his mentor with tears in his eyes and shook his head.
“Oh, bud.” Wukong quickly scooped the younger monkey into his arms as he began to sob silently. “I’m so, so sorry. I should have been keeping a better eye on you. I should have been there to interfere and prevent this from happening. This is all my fault.”
Tang cried into the Monkey King’s chest.
He cried for the pain he felt at the hands of someone he considered a part of his family.
He cried at being forced into a different form unwillingly.
He cried for the loss of his ability to communicate
He cried for losing what may be his only chance to talk to his family from the original timeline.
He cried at the unfairness of the cycles and the universe in general.
Tang cried.
Yet he barely made a sound.
----------
“Hey, bud!”
Tang looked up from his meditation at the approaching Monkey King.
It was a few weeks later. Wukong had practically forced him to move to Flower Fruit Mountain in order to keep a better eye on him.
Tang didn’t mind. Without his ability to communicate, he couldn’t do his job at Pigsy’s Noodles anyway. Pigsy had let him keep the apartment, just in case he wanted to spend the night in the city.
Tang smiled up at Wukong as he stood. It was nice to be the one with multiple father figures for a change.
“So I think I may have a way around the communication curse,” Wukong announced brightly.
Tang’s eyes widened as he tilted his head in curiosity. It hadn’t taken him long to learn how to convey how he felt through body language alone.
“The curse only prevents you from communicating physically, right?”
Tang nodded.
“Well there’s a power I have that lets me speak to someone from a distance. I, uh, actually kind of forgot about it because my astral projections have a longer range so I don’t use it much.”
Tang snickered silently as Wukong rubbed his head in embarrassment.
“Anyway! How would you like to learn telepathy?”
Tang blinked as he processed that. Telepathy certainly wasn’t a normal power the Monkey King usually had.
It also wasn’t a physical form of communication. You instead projected your thoughts psychically to those around you.
Tang pumped his fists in the air and performed a back flip in excitement. Being a monkey had certainly made him much more nimble.
“I thought you’d feel that way,” Wukong said with a laugh. “Want to get started now?”
Tang immediately sat down and stared eagerly at his teacher.
“I’ll take that as a yes!”
----------
Telepathy had been hard to master.
The first weeks of the process had Tang randomly projecting his subconscious thoughts to anyone nearby. There had been some awkward moments when he accidentally projected things from previous cycles, but he was able to wave it off as daydreams.
It had taken some work, but Tang could now pick out a single person within a few hundred miles and send them a specific message. It was a tiring process, so he didn’t actually use it often, but he could do it.
He could communicate again!
Tang stood alone in the apartment above Pigsy’s Noodles and activated his True Sight.
He had done this a few times after the attack, just to be sure that his family would still be there.
Like the previous times, the group of five and his body appeared to the East of him. They all waved in greeting and Tang waved back.
Tang took a breath and looked MK directly in the eye.
‘Can you hear me?’
MK’s smile didn’t change as he eagerly watched on.
‘Hello? MK? Mei? Anyone?’
None of them reacted.
No.
‘Hello? Please! Can any of you hear me?!’
The groups’ smiles began to fade as Tang became visibly upset, his fists clenched and shoulders trembling.
No!
This wasn’t fair!
He had worked so hard!
Tang fell to his knees as tears poured down his face.
This had been his last hope. His last shot at trying to get any answers.
It hadn’t worked.
Frantic waving from the group caught his attention.
The five of them had knelt down to be closer to his eye level. They were all smiling gently, their expressions kind and forgiving.
MK placed his hands together, forming a heart. The others soon followed suit. Even Wukong.
It’s okay. We still love you.
Tang choked as his tears fell harder. He shakily put his hands together and formed his own heart.
I love you too.
Tang decided this was the only answer he needed.
----------
Bet none of you saw that coming!
I’m going to enjoy seeing you all try to come up with an explanation for what’s going on. :3c
Monkey Tang’s design is something I came up with myself. I’ll see if I can draw it out for a better reference.
Look out everyone! The plot is here and it won’t be stopping any time soon!
Until next time!
#Ink Writes#Monkie Kid#Scattered Cicadas#Tang#Sun Wukong#MK#Qi Xiaotian#Mei#Pigsy#Sandy#Macaque#Six Eared Macaque#LEGO Monkie Kid#Tang Monkie Kid
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Higurashi When They Cry: Gou -My “Final” Thoughts
Since we’re getting a second season - and it’s so obvious that Gou was written as the first half of the story - I find it hard to rate Gou at this point in time. Do you remember how when Avengers: Infinity War came out and a lot of critics were like “well, we need to see Endgame before we can really make our judgements”? Yeah, it’s like that - hence why “final” is in quotes.
Even so, I still have some thoughts about Gou, Higurashi as a whole, and my experiences with getting in on something’s fandom. I’ll make a post for what I want out of Sotsu later - right now, here’s what I have for Gou.
What I Liked About Gou
Most of it, honestly! I enjoyed Gou greatly and I’m glad I sat down and gave it a watch. (This may be heresy, but I honestly found it better as an experience than the last airing-weekly anime thing I sat down and watched - that being Mob Psycho 100 Season 2) But as for the stuff unique to Gou thatI particularly liked:
First off, having a new Higurashi anime that’s actually good. We needed something like this after Outbreak, Kira and (to a much lesser extent) the non-Saikoroshi parts of Rei pushed the series deeper and deeper into a trash can.
I love the new art style and the new designs for the characters. There’s a lot of good in DEEN’s adaptation, but a lot of the time the art left something to be desired. Passione’s take on Hinamizawa gave us a cast that can be cute and beautiful and terrifying all while looking good.
There’s also a lot of really good cinematography - the shot used in the GIF above left me going ‘holy shit”.
The new themes are a triple threat of bangers. In particular I loved that they brought in Ayane to really give it a deeper tie to Higurashi as a greater franchise. (The best of these, of course, is Irregular Entropy)
Episode 4′s twist. Just... *chef’s kiss*. I know that people poked it apart and called it ridiculous after the fact but I don’t know if the feeling of dread when Rena’s eyes were hidden by shadow, and I realized that this wasn’t going to end well, is something I could ever really recapture.
Speaking of violence, the ending of Episode 13. The dull red light... the ringing bell... good stuff.
In retrospect, creating Tataridamashi by bringing in Minagoroshi was smart, specifically from a character-introduction standpoint. They needed to establish the existence of Kimiyoshi, Oryou and Akane for later parts of the story and dipping into Minagoroshi’s involvement of them is probably the easiest way to do it.
In general, Gou’s really smart about its character introductions. I didn’t think they’d bring in Akasaka but I’m honestly really pleased with how they did it.
SatoRika was confirmed! And was really cute... until it extremely wasn’t! (But in a good way!)
The fact that Satoko and Rika’s conflict at St. Lucia was so nuanced, with neither of them really being 100% right or 100% wrong. (Of course, this doesn’t last)
I might be slightly conflicted about Satokowashi as an arc, but none of those conflicts are with Eua. (The “FUCK YEAH FEATHERINE TIME” from Twitter was particularly tasty)
The dub! I know a lot of people are ambivalent towards the Gou dub but I for one am happy that we’ve got some great performances, as well as a Higurashi dub that’s actually good. Maybe not great, but far better than what DEEN got in the end.
This Shion face
This is the face of someone that’s going to wreck her sister’s chances with her new boyfriend for fun.
What I Didn’t Like About Gou
Watadamashi in general. This is easily the weakest arc by a long shot, which sucks because I like Watanagashi-hen quite a bit. A lot of the time, it just felt like the animators had chose it as the place to cut costs. As good as the Takano scene in the Saiguiden is, it’s one of the things that makes the least sense in retrospect given the changes to Takano that have been established in Gou. And Episode 8 was rough both from a pacing and a what-happened standpoint. While Watadamashi had some great moments (the above Shion face as well as Rika dressing down Keiichi), overall it was clearly the weakest arc, particularly after Shion left the picture.
The pacing of Gou in general left something to be desired at times - they really should’ve shifted the extra episode in the first cour from Tataridamashi to Watadamashi, and Satokowashi could’ve probably condensed some of its episodes down and gave more room to other things, like...
Satoshi. He really shouldn’t have been as absent from the series as he was - hell, until Ep. 9 I legitimately thought that he might’ve been cut from the story altogether (and honestly, if they did that maybe the story would have been better!)
On that note, Episode 22 just kinda sucked in general.
While I’m not on the “where’s Shion” train as heavily as some meme artists are, I do think that the fact that she had to be written out of the second cour entirely to make it work is one of Gou’s story’s objective faults.
There’s a lot of little details added or addressed in Satokowashi-hen that I feel are either less than good, or are just restrictive. The big two of these is Satoko watching all of the fragments (either Eua should’ve just given her a sample platter, or we should’ve seen more of Satoko’s thoughts and reactions) and the fact that the memories returning means that eventually Hinamizawa would end up “solved” without Satoko’s intervention.
Honestly, Gou’s finale needed a bit more punch - it wasn’t bad but honestly even for a halfway point it could have ended with a bit more of a bang.
The Fandom Side Of Things
First off, I want to preface this by saying thanks for following me, taking my theories into account (it always feels cool whenever I see something I threw into the aether in one of my Theory Times getting adopted and spread by someone else as an interesting idea!) and sticking with me through Gou and hopefully through Sotsu. You are all amazing and I love you all.
After Watadamashi concluded, I decided that my Higurashi bullshit needed its own sideblog, because I recognized that nobody in my other circles was even remotely into Higurashi and I didn’t want to shout into the void. So, I made myself a sideblog, named it after one of my favorite Higurashi console openings, and started posting my thoughts. Quickly I discovered a whole world of theories (”Satoko’s suspicious? I never would have thought of that!” - me, a young and naive fool), hot takes, and a surprising number of Rena kin. (Who are all delightful, I assure you!)
One of the things that stuck out to me was the different schools of opinion that formed. While I ended up as a relatively quiet analyst who overall liked Gou despite its flaws (a camp shared by two of my favorite blogs - @tarhalindur and @thewhitefluffyhat - that you need to follow if you don’t already), there were many others who had much stronger thoughts. Some of them were loudly cheering the story’s turns, while others seemed to decide that Gou could do no right and acted accordingly. Joining a Discord run by one of the larger Higurashi blogs on Tumblr gave me a live view of the process in Satokowashi’s later half, and it made me really realize what shaped people’s views on Gou. Some particular factors that caught my eye:
Whether or not they liked Umineko over Higurashi (mostly a Twitter element - the Umineko fans really enjoyed Eua making her appearance and overall reacted really positively to Gou)
Where they hailed from - honestly I think that Tumblr overall was one of the more positive fanbases for Gou (at least of the big concrete places like it and Reddit), given how the various camps thought of Gou’s eventual villain.
How they felt about Episode 16 - there were a lot of people that seriously felt that Rika learning the “lesson” of “maybe leaving the hometown where bad things happened isn’t the right call” was far, far more abhorrent and objectionable than the part where she got her entrails ripped out!
How they feel about Satoko, naturally - particularly, how much they sympatized with her and how much they didn’t want to see her go down the path she did. Tumblr in particular had a lot of people that related with her and her life situation, and it was never not interesting to see how the sympathy and occasional projection shaped someone’s particular thoughts. (There were some strong reactions to Gou showing an abuse victim becoming an even worse abuser, let me tell you.)
I think I’ll conclude these final thoughts by quoting my IRL best friend’s tags regarding the fandom of her choice:
It really is. And I’m glad I got on this ride and saw it through with all of you.
See you in July.
#higurashi#higurashi when they cry#higurashi gou#higurashi gou spoilers#higurashi gou thoughts#higurashi gou FINAL thoughts#i'll admit I'm still a little sad that satoko never killed anyone with that teddy bear#also i'm 100% going to keep posting and theorizing up to and beyond july don't you worry
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HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2020-12-25
I’m not going to spend time BLOGGING an upd8 on Christmas morning!
...yes I am who the fuck am I kidding. (Bonus stuff and Hiveswap are still well on hold though.)
So are we gonna follow up on the main ship? Probably not, right, with that perfect Karkat point to cut away, right? We’re just going to leave Roxy’s question hanging, as well as makeouts etiquette, and leave while having seen a COUPLE FRAMES of non-possessed canon Jade with only whatever fun fanart was inspired across the internet by the moment to tide us over????
Yeah, probably.
Ugh, more Dirk. I guess it’s overdue. :(
> CHAPTER 16. Welcome to my Secret Lair
Oh huh, I guess not? So... Jane’s, or Rose and Kanaya’s?
Karkat stays for longer than John thought he would. They talk a bit, but mostly they are quiet. Eventually, Karkat gets called away on yet more important war business, leaving John with one final touch on the shoulder. John leans into it in response, though he’s a bit ashamed of chasing down a sliver of physical affection so soon after obliterating Karkat’s evening like he had.
Pretty much, yeah. Can’t blame either of them.
When Karkat is finally gone, John still doesn’t move. It isn’t as though he has nowhere else to go, since there are quite a few places he might attempt to make himself useful, for better or for worse.
You’re still abandoning the task that was explicitly yours to protect your literal kid and his friends, but, oh well. Low-point. Dave dead, house dead, broke news, I get it.
He just doesn’t feel ready for that yet. The remnants of his house are still smoldering, and he can’t stop staring at them. It would make sense, he thinks, to want to root around through the rubble for anything that’s still intact; some half-charred keepsake to claim as the last thing left that’s still his. But he doesn’t want to do it, and he doesn’t want to think about it. And he still can’t move.
Can’t move. No Breath huh? What’s going to get him to, then?
> (==>)
Oh boy, that might help. XD She’s pretty good at that.
> (==>)
Still with the waistline gap. And was his phone always yellow like his God-Tier shoes?
ROXY: hey john can u do me a quick solid ROXY: actly idk how quick itll be but its definitely solid ROXY: harry anderson says i just missed u being here but could u skip back on over?
Nice, huh! No judgment, just a hey-any-chance-you-could-swing-back. He sort of needs to be needed right now, in a simple, almost everyday non-judgmental way I guess. (That’s what he NEEDED anyway-- whether he deserved it though is up for debate.)
ROXY: i need help w/smth and yr darling boy is holed up in his room working on some fuckin craft project or other and cant be bothered
YES SEW JOHN A BETTER FITTING FUCKING OUTFIT
ROXY: and now that me and u are freshly on speakin terms again i might as well take advantage of that olive branch and put u to work ROXY: assumin you havent died in an air raid, that is ROXY: which id also be interested in knowin about so if u wld be so kind as to reply instead of leavin me hangin
Heheheh. Gosh Roxy is always the best.
JOHN: yea yea sorry im here. JOHN: i just had a hard time getting my phone out of these fucking tiny pants.
Hah.
JOHN: and also my house is bombed out so i'm kinda grappling with that. JOHN: but i honestly am not sure how much longer i need to sit around staring at it. trying to align my memories of my youth with whatever is happening right now so JOHN: short version is no i’m not dead, and yeah i can come back over there and help you out. ROXY: oh sweet yr alive and down to do manual labor its a win/win JOHN: see you soon.
Yep! Pulled away from all the metaphorical, ultra-meaningful bullshit, back to some brass tacks with some easy humor. Definitely something Roxy can do well.~
> (==>)
EXCUSE ME. What is that outfit and pose. Did you--
ROXY: sup ROXY: follow me ROXY: well were just going to my room so i guess technically u know the way JOHN: haha ok.
Did you invite him over for the manual labor of banging you while your son is sewing in the other room
Or maybe the labor is making him a new sibling. JFC
Is this plan part of why we got the sudden content warning that was mocked or was that mainly for Hiveswap
John follows, trying to shake the ominous feeling he got from what she’d just said. He’d been in and out of this house a lot in the past few days. Why should this be any different?
I DUNNO JOHN DOES THIS SEEM DIFFERENT TO YOU
> (==>)
Yea this seems like a fucc room.
JOHN: it’s not like i could forget! ROXY: ya i guess u only really saw the living room when you were here the other day but i have changed some stuff up ROXY: done a lil redecoratin here n there
So it’s MORE of a fucc room than previously >__>”
ROXY: may have to do a smidge more if my old bff decides im next on the list for bombing out ROXY: but so far so good
Ah geez.
ROXY: just a coupla exploded cars in the yard from some shenanigans our dear son and his friends were in but u kno it is what it is!!!
Well, that’ll buff out easy.
ROXY: can i get u anything? ROXY: just made some coffee JOHN: no, uh, i’m good.
Of course she has a fancy handled winecoffeeglass (and the handle does look ridiculous but it’d be too hot to hold otherwise)
Roxy shrugs and swirls her own coffee around in her novelty mug. John looks around. A lot about the room is the same. The family photos, the rug. There’s a lot more cat stuff in there now, though. The bed is new. John feels like he’s about to take a test he hasn’t studied for. He makes himself focus on what she’s saying.
That would be the feeling.
> (==>)
MY GOD. Roxy is so fucking good at this holy shit
She KNOWS she’s making him squirm and she loves it
JOHN: so uh anyway. JOHN: what was this favor? ROXY: yo why dont u just come rest yr tush for a bit ROXY: take a lil relax next 2 me here JOHN: haha uh. JOHN: roxy i uh. JOHN: im flattered, but i don’t know if that’s really the right step right now. JOHN: don’t get me wrong, everything seems so fucked up right now that when i try to think about what might actually BE the right step, it feels like a huge cartoon question mark might physically manifest over my head. JOHN: but I’m not sure if um rekindling our physical relationship is really the best--
So is Roxy trolling him, about to reveal she wasn’t thinking of sex and was just making things seem sultry? Or just had “lol jk” as an option-select, maybe.
> (==>)
ROXY: r u kiddin me rn egbert JOHN: i’m not? unless you were, in which case yeah lets say i was also kidding. JOHN: oh my god, i’m sorry, i don’t know why this making me freak out.
OH NOOO NOT THE DISDAAAAIN - CRITICAL HIT D:
ROXY: i remember our past boot knockin with fondness but that is a situation im not interested in revisiting
boot knockin XD
ROXY: look john ROXY: i was trying to be polite about it ROXY: offering u sustenance n rest n all ROXY: but you look like shit ROXY: i just wanted to catch up on the whole heinous war situation were in and maybe check in on e/o before leaping strait to the real n actual nonsexual manual labor favor i have in mind for u JOHN: oh.
Hey, she can’t help looking sexy she’s too good at it.
Is the manual labor moving the crashed cars? Can’t Roxy pull that off on her own, or... banish the cars to the void or something? (Oh, but WOULD she want to do it on her own when she can rope in John and bring him down to earth by giving him a useful task? And admittedly his strength and wallet would make things easier.)
John feels his shoulders unbunch. Of course. Yeah. He’s almost embarrassed by how relieved he feels. So what if his ex wife wanted to hook up? Shouldn’t that be a situation he could navigate? Don’t people like to find solace in human physical connection during dire times? Why did the idea of it make his mind white out in panic more than, say, any number of the traumas he just experienced?
Probably some gender stuff mixed up in there too, June.
He doesn’t know, but he believes Roxy that he must look pretty haggard. He probably feels haggard? Maybe sitting down will feel better.
Just put your feet up yeah
> (==>)
WHAT A CUTE IMAGE
JOHN: sorry. like i said, my "how to react to stuff" meter is completely fucked right now. ROXY: thats fair bud
she’s used to being patient with you don’t worry otherwise you never would’ve gotten this far
ROXY: real fast i do need to do a quick takeback of all that shit i said last time we talked about janey not being literally the most evil person we knew or whatever ROXY: i guess i was hopped up on arguin or somethin since that was before we hit our conversational vibe bc of course u were right and i shoulda listened
Ouch. Yeah, we saw just lately just how far off the deep end she was. (Where was that funny upd8 reaction art summarizing the bit where Kanaya was holding Tavros hostage and Jane was transparently debating “hmm do I let my son die?” and Kanaya and Tavros were just looking at each-other flat-mouthed nervous? I REALLY wanted to share that but I don’t usually want to reblog or put most stuff HS^2 not under a read-more, for spoiler purposes, usually.)
ROXY: im just glad ur ok ROXY: or like alive JOHN: yeah, jury's still out on "ok" but, you know. ROXY: ya ROXY: u said ur house is gone?? JOHN: yep. JOHN: completely. ROXY: jeez ROXY: i would ask how ur feelin but like the answer 2 that has got 2b "prtty bad"
Talk it ouuuut~~ get those feels out there and articulated john
JOHN: yeah. JOHN: i mean. JOHN: no? JOHN: it’s weird. JOHN: it feels like it should be a bigger deal, I guess? JOHN: like it’s my HOUSE. JOHN: but mostly it always felt like my dad’s house? JOHN: and when i started living there after i moved out of here, it was like i crammed myself back into whatever was left of my kid self? JOHN: and it didn’t feel good, but it at least was familiar, you know? JOHN: like living there let me feel closer to my dad, trying to be like the way i remember him, or like how i remember him wanting me to be, or something? JOHN: and i didn’t realize how much i hated doing that until i saw it all go up in flames. JOHN: so i guess i could have used my powers to stop the fire and save whatever was left of the place, but i couldn’t bring myself to do it. JOHN: like some fucked up part of me was glad i got there too late? JOHN: so i just sat there, watching, trying to figure out why watching my house burn down felt like i was being released from prison. JOHN: and even now i keep trying to explain it away, as though it’s because of how fucked up everything else is that it made me feel good. JOHN: but that’s just bullshit. JOHN: it DID feel good. JOHN: i DO feel free. JOHN: sorry.
I was kind of saying some Breath/Blood stuff at the time of him losing his last tie to his stubborn sticking-to-his-kid-self bit? Except now we’re mixing it in with June Egbert and his gender-identity questions too.
ROXY: no need 2 apologize ROXY: we just delved in2 my whole gender thing last time so it seems fine for u to have a turn JOHN: i didn’t say it was a gender thing.
Oh shit
ROXY: well no i just meant like i did some sharing ROXY: like referrin 2 the topic i brought up when we chatted last ROXY: but like now that u mention it ROXY: *meaningful pause* JOHN: … JOHN: i JOHN: ROXY: lol well we can move on 2 the favor part if youd rather ROXY: stick a lil pin in that topic n come back 2 it when u have had sleep
Are you just INCREDIBLY incisive Roxy or have you and John talked about this before?
ROXY: like i said the other day its not like this shits figureoutable in 1 sitting anyways JOHN: yeah... ROXY: sooooooo ROXY: movin on
It’s just fine for Roxy to slow-roll this yeah, if she’s going to pry open that door a little
ROXY: dont be mad but theres a part of the house u didnt know abt the whole time u lived here JOHN: what? ROXY: yea ROXY: i got a secret lair ROXY: for my sciences
OH FUCK YES SCIENCE LAB, of COURSE Roxy would want a cool science lab basement because she always wants a cool science lab basement
ROXY: and i get to it via a transportalizer underneath our bed ROXY: which is 2 heavy 2 move by my lonesome so i just needed to borrow some o your aforementioned powers of wind
Okay no. Wait. What the fuck?
First of all, as funny and MSPaintAdventures-y as furniture being in the way of things is, why would you block it with a bed too heavy to move, but,
Second of all, more importantly, how is a GOD-TIER ROXY not strong enough to lift a heavy bed?!?!?!? Either she’s lying to get John involved in things or this is a gendered cop-out because these characters are superheroes at the TOP of their echeladders, given obnoxiously powerful video-game strength and athletics only to then have ascended into DEITIES. God-Tier Roxy could probably have lifted a bed like that when she was SEVENTEEN! And now she’s an ADULT, out-of-shape or otherwise! If this were a whole CAR I might be willing to handwave it, but just a heavy BED?!? And none of the GUYS are going to have this much trouble lifting a bed like this, are they?? This just feels like following classic cartoony gender tropes in the complete absence of these characters’ super powers, what the fuck, and also Roxy if you didn’t make it Transportalizer-only access you could have given it an entrance you could phase through with your fancy powers to get to. FUCK.
This feels stupid.
ROXY: so if u dont mind woosh away JOHN: uh ok, well... JOHN: a secret science lair, sure, i can deal with that. JOHN: why not! JOHN: it doesn’t work out great when i do the windy thing indoors, though. ROXY: aight then no wind bending just use your mangrit
Roxy flexes, the corner of her mouth pulled up into a familiar grin. John feels his guts, so recently calmed, twist up into knots again. Her eyebrows shoot up and the smile loosens. He must have shown something on his face.
You’re already THIS sensitive about gendertalk?
ROXY: ok or just like push when i push ROXY: we both got sick muscles ROXY: no other adjectives necessary JOHN: yeah ok. ROXY: on 3?
Please, please reinforce the idea that they both have sick strength, because they fucking do and the idea that Roxy actually a hundred percent NEEDED John to do this is BS.
> (==>)
JOHN: holy shit? ROXY: sorry to lop yet another huge scoop onto ur lil brains ice cream revelation sundae JOHN: so wait, if this thing's always been under the bed, how’d you get down here before without me? ROXY: well thats neither here nor there john JOHN: i mean it is kinda. Here. ROXY: fine ok checkmate ROXY: i dont ACTUALLY need ur nerdgrit for this escapade ROXY: like im sorry but i said it ROXY: i mostly just wanted to see you and show u wats down here
THANK FUCKING CHRIST.
If that wasn’t actually just a lie to get him involved I was going to stay SO mad. Of COURSE Roxy can move a fucking BED no matter how heavy it is. OF COURSE.
ROXY: and also uve been ~sent for~ JOHN: ok but like ROXY: john i am inviting u 2 my inner sanctum ROXY: i am literally bringing out the word "sanctum" in case u werent already clued in 2 how cool this is ROXY: so do u wanna go into my secret lair or wat JOHN: yeah!? JOHN: yes? i guess? ROXY: aight good
Yes John of course you want to stop fighting it
ROXY: then as they told me in the hospital before lil h a was born ROXY: just push
eyeroll, but yeah, of course
> (==>)
Oh cool, sprite form version of her loungewear.
> (==>)
Sorry for my compulsion to post every full-frame image of Roxy in this awesome outfi-WERE YOU KEEPING CALLIOPE UNDER YOUR BED THIS WHOLE TIME?!?????
That’s like... almost a fucking metaphor isn’t it???? For the relationship you preferred in the other timeline and possibly THIS one TOO or
ROXY: hey callieee i got him ROXY: o damn john sorry i shoulda also told u callies here weve been hangin out again ROXY: 1 more freak for ur bean
Oh huh, so this isn’t an always thing. And these two can get close in more than one timeline where it would’ve worked out nicely. :)
JOHN: oh it's ok, my bean feels pretty well adjusted to freakage at this point so keep them coming if you like! ROXY: k cool i will JOHN: do i get to know what that big thing under the sheet is? ROXY: hmmmmmm no JOHN: oh ok. JOHN: are you sure? i mean, it seems like a pretty prominent feature of the room. JOHN: space. JOHN: wherever we are. ROXY: and a totally mysterious n COMPLETELY inconspicuous feature it will have to remain for now ROXY: we r kinda in a hurry here fyi ROXY: and by that i mean ROXY: we are in precisely the amount of hurry that means im excused from having to a that specific q rn JOHN: right, sorry. JOHN: i will pay no attention to the object behind the curtain. ROXY: u catch on fast egbert ROXY: anyway theres more cool info coming so just follow me
I don’t have any big theories. Is it just the Hiveswap device or something? If Calliope helped with it it’d help explain the Cherubic theme.
> (==>)
JOHN: so... this is all downstairs? JOHN: it seems like you had a lot of work done. ROXY: well no not x actly ROXY: were in the old meteor JOHN: under the house??? ROXY: ok so ROXY: in hindsight it may have been a bit misleading 2 say like ROXY: "downstairs" ROXY: in reference to a place which is hells of buried underground and may not actually be literally under the house ROXY: but there is no time to explain all that rn john so instead im going to refer u to my adorable little green friend here CALLIOPE: #U_U# ROXY: (hehe) CALLIOPE: *AHEM* CALLIOPE: hi john! CALLIOPE: long time no see. ^u^
Cherubs just really like dark cavelike places full of weird tech don’t they.
> (==>)
THEY’RE SO CUTE
JOHN: oh, uh. hey callie! JOHN: it sure has been a while huh. JOHN: now that i think about it, the last time the three of us hung out like this... CALLIOPE: was when i was aggressively third wheeling yoUr prenUptial coUrtship? CALLIOPE: if yoU dont mind, john, i'd rather not rehash that period of oUr lives. CALLIOPE: it was more than a little painfUl for me. JOHN: oh. JOHN: god, jeez, i'm sorry. i didn't mean to-- CALLIOPE: hee hee john i am only pUlling yoUr leg, don't worry. CALLIOPE: if anything i was personally a little thrilled with how things shook oUt in that respect. CALLIOPE: imagine, if yoU will, a yoUng cherUb raised in solitUde, whose only solace was the convolUted and tUmUltUoUs romantic schemata she projected onto her only friends from another Universe. CALLIOPE: and then fUrther imagine that this yoUng cherUb, throUgh varioUs even *more* convolUted contrivances, ended Up in the company of those selfsafe friends as an eqUal participant in their sphere of social discoUrse! CALLIOPE: it is a joy the like of which yoU possibly cannot fathom. u_u
Reinforcing that things turning out this way was in fact the FANTASY that Calliope was writing over in the Canon timeline. Just, heavily, HEAVILY implied that the Candy timeline is -- or at least originated as -- Calliope’s fanfiction as a Muse of Space, and its competition for audience interest with canon is the essential conflict between alt!Calliope and Dirk (or Dirk and Andrew Hussie).
CALLIOPE: so to pUt it simply, getting to experience sUch emotional drama myself was an impossibly enriching experience. CALLIOPE: possibly a first for my species! CALLIOPE: it's actUally qUite interesting, if yoU ROXY: *nudge* CALLIOPE: oh, right. yes. i'm getting a little carried away, haha. CALLIOPE: argh, i'm sorry, this is not how i planned to begin this vital conversation.
Vital conversation? What sorta truth-bombs are coming?
CALLIOPE: but to sUmmarise, what i was trying to say is: CALLIOPE: don't beat yourself Up aboUt it john. CALLIOPE: besides, hUman divorces are even more fascinating than i had ever imagined, and being able to witness yoUrs in motion was an honoUr. CALLIOPE: so i consider Us aboUt even at this point. JOHN: hahaha!!! JOHN: okay, well that's good to know! CALLIOPE: ^u^
Holy SHIT that was savage! And we’ll NEVER know whether or not she really intended it so savagely, either.~
JOHN: so um... JOHN: i hear that there's this big secret thing you wanna tell me about? CALLIOPE: oh right, yes of course! CALLIOPE: let me jUst say first of all how thrilled i am that yoU're on board. CALLIOPE: i wasn't sUre if yoUr natUral inclinations woUld have preclUded yoUr coming to such a place as this, and yet here yoU are. CALLIOPE: this whole endeavoUr will be *so* mUch easier with yoUr help.
Uh oh.
Hopefully babies aren’t involved.
JOHN: oh! well, shucks. JOHN: not really sure what that means but i'm just glad to be of use somewhere, haha. JOHN: which, speaking of somewhere, CALLIOPE: ah right, right. yoU're probably a little cUrioUs as to where the dickens we are. CALLIOPE: how much do yoU know aboUt black holes? JOHN: um... like, the big space things? CALLIOPE: they aren't always big actUally, and in fact their relative smallness is practically their defining qUality. JOHN: oh. CALLIOPE: bUt okay i think we are on the same page. CALLIOPE: so, what if i told yoU that we are inside of a black hole right now.
Oh dear, we’re getting into the canon/noncanon divide?
JOHN: um... JOHN: like, HERE? JOHN: we just transportalized into a black hole? CALLIOPE: no, i mean, what if oUr whole WORLD was inside a black hole. JOHN: ok.
Yeah, that’s gonna be John’s reaction. “ok.” Pretty much inevitable.
CALLIOPE: earth c, or at least oUr version of it, has, from the moment we crossed the victory threshold, been inside a black hole. JOHN: ok. CALLIOPE: and not just any black hole, bUt the very black hole in which the green sUn Ultimately met its demise, allowing oUr victory in the first instance! JOHN: huh! ROXY: ("huh!") ROXY: (rofl my fucking ao egbert) JOHN: (shhhh!)
And Roxy enjoys his non-reaction reactions as much as we do, hehe.
CALLIOPE: bUt, paradoxically, the critical moment which determined its capture within the black hole happened *after* that point. CALLIOPE: i refer of coUrse to yoUr decision not to retUrn to the mediUm and fight my brother. JOHN: wait, wait. JOHN: you mean, the meat and candy thing? JOHN: oh my god. JOHN: you mean i actually DID make a mistake that day. CALLIOPE: well, that's not exactly what that-- JOHN: ugh, i fucking KNEW it! JOHN: i'm so sorry. JOHN: i'm so sorry that i put the earth inside a black hole everyone. ): ROXY: john ROXY: listen ROXY: u have got to get out of this mindset i am begging you JOHN: ):
Yeah shake him out of this shit.
ROXY: your choice literally didnt matter ROXY: the whole thing was symbolic in the first place ROXY: literally symbolic in the case of the picnic i mean come on ROXY: it was just some steak and a plate of candy suckers JOHN: oh. CALLIOPE: i mean, i wouldn't go so far as to say that the meal we shared was unimportant, given the sacred significance of the two options i presented. CALLIOPE: but yes, yoUr choice of snack was infinitely less important than the choice which it presaged. CALLIOPE: and even then, calling it a choice woUld be sorely misleading. CALLIOPE: think of it like a coin flip. CALLIOPE: the series of events that led to Us being trapped beyond the event horizon of an Ubermassive black hole could be considered "tails", while the events which would have occUrred otherwise could be considered "heads". CALLIOPE: since both were possible, and paradox space is the way it is, they actUally both happened. and we jUst "happened" (hee hee) to get tails instead of heads. JOHN: you mean we ended up with the bad possibility. CALLIOPE: not at all! since both possibilities depend on one another's existence, it really doesn't make sense to call them "right" or "wrong". they both just "are". JOHN: o...kay... CALLIOPE: u_u
Yeah, it’s going to take a bit more than that to convince him he didn’t make the “wrong decision”.
CALLIOPE: i realise that this may be a lot to process. CALLIOPE: it's easy to forget that this wasn't obvioUs to everyone from the beginning. CALLIOPE: anyway, the reason i went on this tangent in the first place was to explain that the space we are standing in right now has a special significance, in that it is the location which corresponds to the black hole's singUlarity. JOHN: oh, wow. JOHN: um. JOHN: ok so, sorry if this is a dumb question to ask suddenly, but what does being inside of a black hole actually... mean for us? JOHN: is that bad? JOHN: is it like in movie, um, JOHN: shoot. JOHN: roxy what was that matthew mcconaughey movie from your earth that we watched? ROXY: u mean interstellar JOHN: RIGHT. JOHN: the one with the organ. JOHN: man. i cried at that movie so much. ROXY: lol u can say that again ROXY: iirc at least part of y u got so weepy was the fact that u couldnt believe a version of earth existed where ppl got 2 watch more mcconaughey films than you JOHN: listen. JOHN: i simply don't think you all appreciated the gift you were given. CALLIOPE: i don't believe i'm familiar with this particular film ^u^;; ROXY: oh dont worry cal you didnt miss much JOHN: (gasp)
This is all gold
ROXY: but the important point is that no its not really an interstellar type situation here egbert ROXY: ur not gonna enter a weird time vortex and change the trajectory of a little girls life with the power of love JOHN: aw.
Dammit, now we have to be on the lookout for that possibility. Or it did sort of already happen more than once to John. ...Whatever.
CALLIOPE: to go back to your original question, john. CALLIOPE: it's not strictly speaking "bad" for Us to be inside of a black hole, mUch thoUgh that contradicts most of what anyone knows about them. CALLIOPE: of coUrse, if we had fallen into it, that woUld be a whole other kettle of fish. CALLIOPE: the tidal forces woUld have stretched Us all into spaghetti and then ripped us apart! CALLIOPE: bUt the natUre of oUr arrival was more akin to simply "being" here, sUddenly. one moment we were not, and the next moment we were, and somehow always had been. CALLIOPE: in everyday, practical terms, being inside of a black hole has very little bearing on Us. CALLIOPE: i mean, the natUre of space and time is a little finicky in here, bUt for the most part it doesn't seem to be anything too oUt of the ordinary. CALLIOPE: bUt beyond that, it means that we are sealed away from the rest of existence. CALLIOPE: oUr sphere of inflUence is limited to the sphere of the black hole's bounding horizon. CALLIOPE: as far as everyone else is concerned, we might as well not even exist! JOHN: is there no way we could let anyone know that we're in here...? CALLIOPE: almost certainly not!
No? So this doesn’t have to do with the divide?
CALLIOPE: there are very few ways for anything to escape the kind of predicament that we are in right now. one of them is to be an all-powerfUl being with control over the very fabric of space, with the energy of two Universes at yoUr disposal. CALLIOPE: in which case, escape woUld become rather trivial, if a little Unscientific. JOHN: ok. i am going to assume that we can't just do that. CALLIOPE: yoU've hit the nail on the head, UnfortUnately. U_U CALLIOPE: the method i described was the one employed by my alternate self, who yoU may recall crashed through the event horizon in the body that once belonged to jade harley. CALLIOPE: she departed through a pUnctUre she created in the black hole's surface shortly after consUming my brother, a deed which provided her with the necessary "oomph", and which was frankly rather breathtaking to watch. =u= CALLIOPE: bUt Upon her departUre, the rift closed for good. as far as i can see, there's simply no way for Us to commUnicate with the world oUtside the black hole.
What the heck? Calliope SAW all this? Is this her Muse powers at work, letting her observe these things, or was she there? And John certainly did NOT see ANY of what Calliope just said happen.
CALLIOPE: i woUld certainly be very sUrprised to find oUt that anyone had managed sUch a thing!
So we’re going to find that out if we haven’t already. Maybe something to do with the way Vrissy just conks out narcoleptically?
JOHN: ...right. JOHN: so... let me just get this straight. JOHN: knowing that we're inside of a black hole... does that actually change anything? JOHN: like, can't we just go on living like normal? CALLIOPE: oh absolUtely not. CALLIOPE: i don't know if yoU've noticed john bUt this world is on the brink of a total cataclysm. JOHN: oh.
Um, what?
CALLIOPE: oUr exclUsion from the overarching coUrse of events which governs all reality means that oUr existence here is liable to dramatic and violent Upheaval. CALLIOPE: to pUt it another way, becaUse nothing in here "matters", we are likely to be sUbjected to things which are a bit bats in the belfry, for no reason other than it's totally insignificant to the wider canon of reality. CALLIOPE: and mUch thoUgh i am personally titillated by some of the conseqUences of this predicament, it is a degrading way for Us to live. u_u JOHN: that's... certainly one way to put it, yeah...
No plot-armor for your entire timeline, I guess, yep. Outside of canon, we can imagine and write about ANYTHING happening to the characters, or just drop their existence entirely, much like a doomed offshoot timeline. It’s a plot stability that depended heavily on the threat of Lord English and being trapped in a story, and without it things are bound to see a BIT chaotic (or “degrading” if you view it as subjected to the whims of fanfic writers, certainly).
CALLIOPE: at first, i believed that this was simply necessary. Us playing tails to oUr coUnterparts' heads, the black to their white, and so forth. CALLIOPE: bUt over the years i have come to the conclUsion that this is simply not kosher. ROXY: its total bs is what it is CALLIOPE: right, yes. CALLIOPE: a steaming pile of bUllshite. CALLIOPE: and so we have decided that something needs to be done aboUt it.
Ah fuck. You’re going to regulate non-canon? “Canonize” it? Is the fact that you eventually succeed at whatever it is you’re trying to do part of why we have the story presented to us in this bifurcated structure?
ROXY: this is finally where u come in jegbert ROXY: we gots quests for yous CALLIOPE: hee hee, yes. CALLIOPE: or *a* quest, to be specific. JOHN: oh boy! ROXY: (this fkin nerd i s2g)
Roxy and Calliope setting him on this quest as a Rogue of Void and a Muse of Space feels fitting.
JOHN: i'm not sure how i can go about freeing us from a hellish space prison, but i'm up for giving it a try i guess? JOHN: i have... literally nothing better to be doing at this point. except for maybe hanging out with harry anderson. ROXY: nice save lol
YEAH WE’RE STILL GLOSSING OVER HOW YOU LEFT HIM UNPROTECTED, JERK
ROXY: but u dont need to worry abt busting us outta space jail tbh ROXY: thats not ur problem to fix JOHN: oh. JOHN: i'm... not sure i follow, then. ROXY: i mean yeah ur gonna obvs facilitate it in a sense ROXY: but only by going and busting the person who can actually help us outta normal earth jail CALLIOPE: we need yoU to free vriska from the clUtches of oUr misgUided friend jane, and bring her here, to the singUlarity. ROXY: weve been calling it the plot point CALLIOPE: yes, the plot point is a key part of oUr plan. CALLIOPE: as far as we have been able to sUrmise, the only remaining method for escaping oUr grim confinement depends on leveraging the UniqUe properties of this location to create an event of sUch catalcysmic proportions that it simply cannot be contained within the black hole any more. CALLIOPE: something SO dramatic, so hyper-relevant, that it becomes ontologically impossible for anyone to ignore it. CALLIOPE: for that, we need an individUal of sUfficient narrative cloUt, so to speak. CALLIOPE: and to liberate her, who better than the embodiment of the aspect of freedom itself? CALLIOPE: ... CALLIOPE: phew. okay, i'm finished. CALLIOPE: CALLIOPE: sorry, that took longer than i expected to go throUgh.
..............................
OOooooh, kay.
Whatever this is, it’s going to be really weird and PROBABLY infuriating and/or shippy, and I’m probably not going to like it. Plus it seems like it’s some sort of inverse belated canonization of some other black-hole-rescue theories I went on about at some point. Although, related to that link, “aspect of freedom” if anyone wasn’t paying attention! That’s a (sorta-)canon mention of the purpose of it!
They’re going to attention-wh-- attention-hog themselves out of the black hole so that they’re “considered canon” too, or close enough. Huh.
ROXY: what r u talking about cals that was great ROXY: i could listen 2 u plotsplain for years CALLIOPE: oh you >u< ROXY: fyi this was why i wanted u to get a move on eggbread ROXY: so callie could have more time 2 infodump ROXY: thats love bitchhhhhh JOHN: hahaha. JOHN: ok, well, i think i understood all that?
Love with who? Callie, John, both?
In reality, John isn’t sure what most of this means. But on balance, it feels okay? He’s gone back and forth about a hundred times in the last week about where his place in everything is, so he might as well ride this out. Plus, the last time a Lalonde kind of told him to do something, he thinks that he chose not to, and look where that got him. And it’s not like he has other plans. He may as well do this! It’s at least going to get him involved in things again, if nothing else. He turns to go, and then hears a sound. It’s the sound of feet and knocking on doors, echoed through stone and digital static.
Oh shit. Is Andrew trapped behind some fourth walls behind the curtains.
> (==>)
Oh RIGHT also that DEVICE is where they want to bring Vriska. Are they going to overturn part of canon itself with a super-retcon thus making this timeline unbelievably relevant or--? Maybe make all the PESTERQUESTS canon or something?! I don’t know. Maybe they’re INTENTIONALLY starting the game like Vriska wanted to??????
Guh, this is something so big that I don’t WANT to theorize about it, do I.
JOHN: did you hear that? ROXY: wha ROXY: oh yeah uh ROXY: i may have messaged rose and kan and jade to check on them too ROXY: so its prob onea them showin up ROXY: they don’t need to know bout all this tho ROXY: we got time to chat with them b4 u go get vriska
No, even if it’s a knock at the somehow-top-level-house-even-under-buried-- oh, right, maybe it’s covering in part a monitoring system that looks up there. But still, part of that sound was DOUBTLESS these two hiding something, all standing in front of the curtain like that.
JOHN: i’ll go stall em. ROXY: thx babe ROXY: oh is it 2 soon for that joke or JOHN: no, weirdly enough, that one’s fine. ROXY: oh good ok see u up there soon!
How is calling your significant other “babe” not cool REGARDLESS of gender?! Like wasn’t that always cool? --Oh wait is it because they’re not together or... but... guh, I don’t know.
Anyway, see y’all after the holidays at least.
#Homestuck#hs2#Homestuck Liveblog#upd8#Homestuck^2#spoiler#spoilers#Roxy Lalonde#John Egbert#Calliope
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hi!!! what are your favourite movies? like actually good ones but also any trashy comfort movies? is IT (2017) one of them?
Hello!! IT (2017) IS ABSOLUTELY ONE OF THEM oh man, thank you for this, I love talking about movies!!!! This is possibly the most difficult question you could have asked me. Apologies for how absolutely off the rails this got, I just... love movies so much lmao
I’ve said this before, but opening night of IT ch1 was the best cinema experience I’ve ever had, I’m so glad I got to see it with a fully packed audience who were all laughing and screaming together the whole way through. I’m a huge fan of... everything ch1 was doing, the 80s nostalgia, the summer-coming-of-age themes, the solid ghost train funhouse JOY of the Pennywise performance and scares, the washed-out cinematography, the tiny background details to make everything that much more eerie, the kids’ ACTING?!
Like, a lot of the time I find child actors can be really awkward and stilted to watch, but I remember leaving the cinema really impressed by JDG and Sophia Lillis in particular. I liked that they were all allowed to be little shitheads with potty mouths, it felt like a callback to 80s movies like The Lost Boys or Stand By Me. The whole thing worked to make me really care about what happened to the kids (even if I do still have issues with how they handled Mike. I understand even ch1 had limitations with juggling so many characters, but still). I saw it another 2 times in the cinema and have rewatched it at least, I dunno, 7-10 more times since then?
Add to all of that the retroactive CANON R+E baby pining subplot? I just love it, as if that wasn’t obvious by now given my Whole Blog. It’s a really special movie to me!
Anyway!! Ok, the main handful of movies I rewatch all the fucking time are:
Back to the Future, The Lost Boys, Pride and Prejudice (2005), Jaws, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, The Breakfast Club, Ocean’s 11, POTC 1, The Dark Knight, Inception, Die Hard, LOTR trilogy, Snatch, The Nice Guys, Logan Lucky, Mad Max Fury Road, Clueless, 10 Things I Hate About You, Billy Elliot, Dirty Dancing, Tomb Raider (2018)...
Those are the easily consumable ones that I’ve seen so many times I don’t really have to concentrate or think about them, but I really love them and unfortunately often KEEP rewatching them instead of new stuff. It would take too long to go into why I love all these movies so much because I could write the same amount as I already did for ITCH1, and everyone already knows why those movies are good, so, lol.
I think I’m gonna have to subdivide and categorise this whole post because there are too many separate criteria for... goOD MOVIES, AUUHH 😩
Okay so first off, HORROR MOVIES? I’m especially in love with Re-Animator (1985) and its sequel Bride of Re-Animator, they’re such good examples of camp and batshit 80s practical effects, and also EXTREMELY funny. I’m actually just gonna post my list of my fave horror movies that I do actually keep on my phone at all times lmao. These are in no particular order:
Wholeheartedly recommend every one of these. I’ve never been so scared in my life as I was watching Hereditary in the cinema, hoo boy. Mother! by Aronofsky is one of the strangest experiences I’ve ever had (and I actually saw it on the same day I saw IT ch1 for the first time!! That was a fun day)
Psycho (1960) and The Fly from 1986 should also be on there but I couldn’t fit them in the screenshot.
I’m a HUGE fan of a ton of martial arts movies too, like Kung Fu Hustle, Shaolin Soccer, Ip Man, The Raid movies, John Wick 3 is my fave of the trilogy, Drive from 1997 with Mark Dacascos is incredible, SPL 2, Ong-Bak, Operation Condor, Project A, Iron Monkey, and Zatoichi (2003) are some favourites.
My favourite Tarantino is Reservoir Dogs, fave Coen brothers are Raising Arizona, The Ballad of Buster Scruggs and O Brother Where Art Thou. Love some old-timey colour correction and weird offbeat dialogue. I also love Goodfellas!!! And Donnie Brasco! And The Firm, I’m so easy for any good crime/law/gangster/heist procedural like that, especially if they’re from the 80s or 90s in a super dated way.
Fave Disney movie is Tarzan, favourite Ghibli movies are Spirited Away and Lupin III. I remember watching Spirited Away during a thunderstorm one time and it being.... god! Transcendent! Favourite Pixar movie is The Incredibles (the first one. ALSO the documentary “The Pixar Story” is great and well worth a watch, it’s very comforting for some reason) and my favourite Dreamworks movies are HTTYD1 and Spirit: Stallion of the Cimmaron.
I tend to watch more anime movies than tv shows, so stuff like Akira, The Girl Who Leapt Through Time, Summer Wars, Journey to Agartha, and my ultimate fave anime is Sword of the Stranger (2008). The climactic fight in that movie is fucking stunning and should be counted in “bests fights” lists right alongside anything live action
Also if we’re talking animated movies another hearty favourite is Rango, and a Belgian stop-motion (which at one time I considered my favourite movie ever) called Panique Au Village (2009) which is one of the funniest movies ever made imo.
As for TRASHY movies, I’m not sure if that’s the right word for how I feel about these ones but.. dumb/silly/slightly guilty pleasure movies? Ones that I feel need some kind of justification lmfao
Troy - something u must know about me is that I’m a giant slut for the Assassin’s Creed franchise, so if a movie smashes historical and mythological nonsense together with fun costumes and sword fights, I’m gonna enjoy myself. Even if they should have made Achilles and Patroclus gay. Other movies in this vein are King Arthur: Legend of the Sword, and Immortals (2011)
Gods of Egypt - I know all the reasons this movie is whitewashed bullshit. But it was already bullshit with giant Anubis mecha and giant snakes and bad acting and ridiculous CGI and frankly I had a blast at the cinema (my friend who I forced to come with me did not have a blast. Sorry H***)
Avatar - yes, the one with the big blue people. This movie gets a lot of flack nowadays but I really do enjoy it just for the spectacle. The full CGI world technology was so new at the time and I love to wallow in the visuals and daydream about riding a cool dragon around in the jungle
George of the Jungle - I’ll defend this movie to the death ok this movie shaped me as a person, it is fucking hilarious and Brendan Fraser is the himbo to end all himbos. It’s perfect. The song Dela is perfect. I still want to write a reddie AU about it. It’s one of the best movies ever made and I’m not being ironic
Set It Up - I KNOW this is a dumb Netflix original romcom but consider this; it was funny and the leads had great chemistry. I got butterflies. I once watched it and then literally immediately set it back to the start so I could watch it again
The Brady Bunch Movie - when people talk about great satires or parodies you will see them bring up the same movies over and over again, Blazing Saddles, This Is Spinal Tap etc, but they never talk about The Brady Bunch Movie from 1995 for some reason, which they should. It is one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen and every time i watch it somehow it gets funnier
Some more general favourites that I do still love but don’t rewatch as often, and don’t wanna go into more detail about are:
Moon (2009), Crna Mačka Beli Mačor, The Sixth Sense, Parasite, The Handmaiden, Tremors, Wet Hot American Summer, Tucker and Dale vs Evil, What We Do In The Shadows, Hunt For the Wilderpeople, The Secret of My Success (I love kitschy 80s movies, is that obvious by now), The Green Mile, When Harry Met Sally, Rear Window, The Odd Couple, Breaking Away, Pan’s Labyrinth, To Kill A Mockingbird, The Eagle, Gladiator, The Artist, The Extraordinary Adventures of Adèle Blanc-Sec, Call Me By Your Name, Master and Commander, Pacific Rim, Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, Legend (1985), Emma. (2020), Flash Gordon, Trolljegeren, Hross í Oss, Beverly Hills Cop, Coming to America, WarGames, District 9, Ajeossi (2010), Tracks (2013), Sightseers, Mud (2012), Pitch Black, Four Lions, Shaun of the Dead, Starship Troopers, The Truman Show, Withnail & I....... Jesus Christ ok I need to stop
NOTABLE EXTREME FAVOURITES that I didn’t include in the regular rewatch list because they’re too heavy/not as well known/require more attention.:
Thin Red Line (1998), Badlands (1973) both dir. Terrence Malick
Malick’s brand of dreamy impressionistic filmmaking is something I find really appealing, both of these movies are gorgeous and unusual and poignant and, in the case of Thin Red Line at least, have a lot of things to say about a lot of rough subjects. I don’t totally understand all those things sometimes, but a theme with a lot of my favourite movies is that I’ll be more likely to love something long-term if it raises unanswered questions, or is surreal/esoteric etc. Plus the cinematography is incredible, and I wish there was a way to get Jim Caviezel’s narration from The Thin Red Line as an audiobook because it’s very poetic and soothing.
Let the Bullets Fly (2010) dir. Jiang Wen
This movie is WILD, it’s so much fun. It’s sprawling and intricate and epic and smart and really fucking funny, it! Has! Everything! A gang of very tolerant outlaws!! Jiang Wen’s beautiful broad chest!!! Chow Yun Fat absolutely DECIMATING the scenery, and the two of them outsmarting each other in order to gain control of a small Chinese town!!! Plus it’s long, but it packs so much nonsense and intrigue that it goes by really fast. Wow what a flick
A Field in England (2013) dir. Ben Wheatley
I know I included this in my horror list but aaaaahhh ahhhh Wheatley is one of my favourite directors (he also made Sightseers, and is directing the Tomb Raider sequel which makes me absolutely rabid.) This is a surreal black-and-white psychological horror black comedy set in the English Civil War about some deserters who may or may not meet the Devil in a field. People eat mushrooms. It’s bonkers. I love being blasted in the face with imagery that I don’t understand
Mandy (2018) dir. Panos Cosmatos
Speaking of being blasted in the face!!!!! This movie... I saw it in the cinema and I can’t even begin to explain the experience, but I’ll try. My favourite review site described it like this:
“...somewhere between a prog album cover come to life and a metal album cover come to life, and subscribes to both genre's artistic tendency towards maximalism: what it ends up being is basically naught else but two glorious hours of being pounded by bold colors...”
So, prog and metal are my two favourite genres of music. This movie opens with the quote “When I die, bury me deep, lay two speakers at my feet, put some headphones on my head and rock and roll me when I'm dead.” and then a King Crimson song, it is SURREAL to the nth degree, it’s violent and bizarre and Nic Cage forges a giant silver axe to destroy demonic bikers and there is a CHAINSAW DUEL. A galaxy swirls above a quarry. Multiple animated horror nightmare sequences. At one point a man says “you exude a cosmic darkness” and releases a live tiger. At another point Cage says, in a digitally deepened voice, “The psychotic drowns where the mystic swims. You’re drowning. I’m swimming.” and I haven’t stopped thinking about it for two years
Paper Moon (1973) dir. Peter Bogdanovich
Really fantastic movie set in the Great Depression (and also in black & white) about a conman and a little kid who may or may not be his daughter, running cons across the Midwest. It’s beautifully shot, so sharp and sweet and the progression of their dynamic is really well done because they’re played by an IRL father and daughter. Tatum O’Neal was NINE YEARS OLD and she’s so amazing in this movie she’s actually the youngest person to win a competitive category Oscar. I keep trying to get people to watch this fbdjfjdbf it’s wonderful
Alpha (2018) dir. Albert Hughes
THIS MOVIE IS A VICTIM OF BAD MARKETING ok, the trailers made it look like some twee crappy sentimental Boy And His Dog Adventure, plus it had voiceovers in American-accented english? That’s a total disservice to one of the coolest things about this film; the fact that they got a linguist to construct an entirely original Neolithic language that all the characters speak for the entire runtime. And yes, it is eventually a Boy And His Wolf adventure, but it’s COOL and fairly brutal, and it has some really incredible cinematography. The landscapes are so strange and barren and alien, you really get the sense that this is an ancient world we no longer have any connection to. And it’s also about like, the birth of dog & human companionship sooo it’s perfect.
Free Solo (2018) dir. Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi, Jimmy Chin
The Free Climbing Documentary. I loved climbing as a kid, I love outdoor sports, and I love movies that elicit a physical reaction in me, whether that’s horny, scared, real laughter, overwhelming shivers, or in the case of Free Solo - HORRIBLE SWEATING TENSION. Like, I knew about Alex Honnold beforehand because of this adventure film festival I go to every year and I followed him on IG so obviously I knew he lived, but the actual climb itself was torture. My hands sweat every time I see it!! It’s incredible, such a cool look into generally what the human body can do, and more specifically, why Honnold’s psychology and life means he’s so well suited to free soloing. It’s such an exercise in getting to know an individual and get invested in them, before they attempt something very potentially fatal.
Brokeback Mountain (2005) dir. Ang Lee
I can’t even talk about this. When I was around 13 I snuck downstairs to watch this on TV at 11pm in secret, and my life was forever changed. I wouldn’t be who I am if I hadn’t seen Brokeback at the age I did. I seriously can’t talk about this or I’ll write an even longer essay than this already is
God’s Own Country (2017) dir. Francis Lee
The antidote to Brokeback Mountain, I’m so glad I managed to see this one in the cinema too. It makes me cry every time, as someone who’s spent years working on a cold British farm with sheep it was very realistic, which is expected since Lee grew up on a farm in Yorkshire. I love that this movie isn’t really about being closeted, but about being so emotionally repressed and self-loathing that the main character finds it so hard to accept love. Or that he deserves to be loved. The cinnamontographies.... lordt... but also the intimacy and sex scenes are fucking searing wow who hasn’t seen this movie by now. 10 stars. 20 stars!!!
Tomboy (2011) dir. Céline Sciamma
I saw this years ago but I’ve never forgotten it, it cut so deep. It’s from the director of Portrait of a Lady on Fire and it’s about a gnc kid struggling with gender and misogyny and homophobia in a really raw, scrappy way, it reminded me very much of my own... childhood... ahh the central performance is amazing for such a young age. I haven’t seen Portrait yet but I feel like if you went nuts for that, you should definitely check this out, it’s lovely.
Donnie Darko (2001) dir. Richard Kelly
EVERY TIME I WATCH THIS MOVIE I UNDERSTAND LESS AND LESS and that’s what I love so much about it. I love surreal movies, I love time-fuckery and stuff about altered perception etc etc and Donnie Darko scratches all my itches. I wish I could find a way to figure out an IT AU for it, because I know it would work! Somehow! Plus it’s got the subdued 80s nostalgia and I found it at an age when I was really starting to explore movies and music and the soundtrack FUCKS.
Offside (2006) dir. Jafar Panahi
I wish more people knew about this!!! It’s an Iranian film about a disparate group of women and girls who are football fans and want to watch Iran’s qualifying match for the World Cup, but women aren’t allowed into the stadium, so they all get thrown into the Stadium Jail together? They don’t know each other beforehand, but it’s about their changing relationships with each other and the guards and just, their defiance alongside hearing the match from the outside and WOW it’s so lively. Great dialogue and very funny, and such a different kind of story from anything you usually see from Hollywood.
The Fall (2006) dir. Tarsem Singh
This movie... I guess it’s the ideal. This is the platonic ideal of a film for me, it has fantasy, magical realism, glorious visuals, amazing score and costumes and production design and a really interesting, heartbreaking relationship at the core of it. I don’t know why so many of my favourite films feature incredibly raw performances by child actors but this is another one, Catinca Untaru barely knew any English and improvised so much because of that, and it’s fascinating to watch! Also the dynamic with Lee Pace is one of my favourites, where a kid forms a friendship with a guardian figure who isn’t their parent, but the guardian grows to really care for them by the end. It’s like Paper Moon in that sense. What is there to even say about this movie, it’s pure magic joy tempered and countered by genuine gutwrenching emotional conflict in the real world, it’s also ABOUT old moviemaking, in a way, and it’s stunning to look at!
Mad Max Fury Road (2015) dir. George Miller
I know I included this in my “most rewatched” section but it deserves its own thing. We all know why this movie is fucking incredible. I remember clutching my armrests in the cinema and feeling like my skeleton was being blasted back into the seat behind me and tbh that is the high I’m constantly chasing when I go to see any movie. What a fucking gift this film is
Théo et Hugo dans le Même Bateau (2016) dir. Olivier Ducastel, Jacques Martineau
I only found this movie last year and it became an instant favourite. Initially I was just curious because I’d never seen a movie with unsimulated sex before, but it’s so much more than the 18 minute gay sex club orgy it opens with. No, not more than, AS WELL AS. The orgy is important because this movie is so candid and frank about sex and HIV treatment in the modern day, it was eye-opening. Another thing that really got me is that I’d never seen a real-time film before. It’s literally an hour and a half in the lives of these two men, their intense connection and conversation and conflict in the middle of the night in Paris, with some really nice night photography and just!!! Wow!!! AMAZING CHEMISTRY between the actors. This is such a gem if you’re comfortable with explicit sexual content.
Ok. This is already over 3k but film is obviously one of my ridiculous passions and I can and do talk about it for hours. I’ve been reading magazines about it for years, listening to podcasts and reading review blogs and recently, watching video essays on YouTube because the whole process is so interesting to me and I want to learn more!!
Recently I’ve been thinking a lot about the concept of valuing form over narrative. The idea that story can often come second to the deeper physical experience and emotional reaction that’s created by using ALL the elements of filmmaking and not just The Story, y’know? Whether that’s editing, shot composition, colour, the sound mix, the actors, how it should all be used to heighten the emotional state the script wants you to feel. And so, I think for a few years now this approach has been influencing the types of films I really, really love.
I think I love surreality and mind-bending magical realism in films specifically because the filmmakers have to use all those different tools to convey things that can be way too metaphysical for just... a script? I’m always chasing that physical response; if a movie can make me stop thinking “I wonder what it was like to set up that shot” and instead overwhelm that suspension of disbelief, if I can be terrified or woozy or crying for whatever reason, that’s what I’m looking for. That’s why I watch so many fuckin movies, and why I’ll always remember nights like seeing IT (2017) for giving me another favourite.
Thank you again for this question, I didn’t mean to go so overboard. Also there’s no way to do a readmore on tumblr mobile so apologies to anyone’s dashboard 😬
#long post#films#this is like bill hader being asked to pick his fave comedies and he gives a 4 page list#he has such good taste though ahhahbfhfhfhh lemme talk with him nonstop about movies while i ride him. thank you
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how Shiratorizawa and i would interact head cannons
Hey! this is just how I think I would interact with the team because I know myself better than I know you, the reader! so i’m sorry if these are a bit boring :,)
warning: swearing
God i cant even start on how fucking wild this would be
I feel like for some reason Ushijima would just kinda grab me one day and ask me to be a manager
Id be like uH SURE BIG SCARY MAN because,, like hes fucking tall look at him i dont wanna piss bear man off
So id be chilling and he’d just wait for me outside of my last class like mfker did RESEARCH ON ME
He’d just be like “we must go to the gym now” and id just be fucking QUAKING
AND THEN I SEE ANOTHER TALL SCARY MAN BUT THIS TIME ITS FUCKIN TENDOU
Id be shitting in my pants like,,, dude fuck this, like id be “thinking of all my routes of escape and not notice tendou trying to talk to me” fuck this
My dumbass would be snapped out of my fucking daydream by ushijima calling me rude and id just EVAPORATE
Soul?: gone. Dead?: as hell. Cheeks?: clapped
I feel like tendou would get the idea and try to calm me down and ushijima would stand there like ???
We’d get there and id be met with goshiki- a tall mama’s boy and just feel relieved
God id be so happy to see someone not absolutely fucking scary
Id meet the team and be as nice as possible, i feel like tendou would call me miracle-chan or something cause “it's a miracle you accepted the position from Ushiwaka”
Bro semi is the resident pretty boy of the team so i wouldn't be able to talk to him for at least a week tbh
Pretty boys scare me,, i much prefer sweaty gamer boys who give off “i-drink-bathwater” vibes
lMAo SEMI WOULD BE SO CONFUSED AND SHIT
Bro id see shirabu’s bangs and,,, fuckin try so hard not to laugh like hun your bangs look like a 3rd grade art project
Mfker said \ aND HIS BARBER JUST LET HIM?? LIKE HUH
Dude id look to goshiki like “dude please god say a joke i need to laugh” and shirabu would say some bullshit and his hair would sway or some shit and id combust
Tendou would 100% find that fucking COMEDY GOLD
Shirabu would think i laughed at his sny remark / roast and not his hair so poggers
Then they’d invite me to the group chat called “we the SHIT-ratorizawa” (named by tendou)
God ushijima would be like “now that you are our manager i should explain things to you as the captain” and shit
Homeboy,,, i love him a lot but he speaks like a fuCKING PRINTER
I would for sure try to avoid him explaining things to me just because he doesn't seem like,,, he's the best at it
Like he can explain volleyball to me but nothing else
Another thing is that i would totally make bets with tendou and lose most of them because i don't know a lot about volleyball so he’d word things to confuse me and suddenly i have to show up to practice in a cute eagle based outfit cause school spirit or something like that. Like i'd be wearing cute wings and a cute lil lolita dress and poor goshiki would just combust on sight
Tendou would laugh his ass off and ushijima would be like “that is not appropriate clothing for a manager” and i'd explain to him about the bet and then he’d be like “oh, well you look darling. Tendou did a good job” aND JUST LEAVE AFTER DROPPING THAT FUCKIN BOMB ON ME
Goshiki would compliment the outfit so much and be such a gentleman about it and i love that so much
Tendou would feel like hes walking on the fucking clouds, man is for sure a pervert and i know it so he’d be making lewd jokes but he’d make sure im not uncomfortable, which poggers to at least asking me if im okay with that
Shirabu would walk into the gym, see me, and then walk out of the gym no cap
Homie couldn't handle 5’2 manager in a lolita dress with wings
As goshiki said i “Look like an angel” and shirabu is just such a sinner he couldn't handle seeing such a holy being (sarcastically)
So anyways practice went awesomely and i leave
Tendou offers to walk me home cause i'm in an outfit that “men might find appealing” in his words
Lmao one dude would try to talk to me and tendou would just fucking glare and boom problem gone instantly
Tendou is 100% great bodyguard material you can't fight me on something that's 100% correct
Later on the team asks me to wear it to one of their games and not practice cause they find it very cute
I do because i lost a game rock paper scissors against shirabu
Oikawa for sure would notice the fucking chick with wings and get even more pissed. Rip for me and my team
Shiratorizawa won of course, causing oikawa to look absolutely dead on the inside
Ya know Ushijima would be ushijima after the game, like oh cool we won and tendou would be fuckin BALLIN
Tendou would taunt aoba johsai with the dice roll walk and that scares me
I CAN IMAGINE HIM SAYING IN ROUND “hey shawty~” AND DICE ROLLING TO OIKAWA AND JUST FUCKIN WITH EM
Bro id hear baki baki for the first time and just be like ⍢?
ID BE SO SHOOK LIKE WHAT THE FUCK TENDOU THATS NOT COOL
But then again baki baki also kinda slaps so i might hum it from the sidelines
The whole team would celebrate after the game and get food or something
I would take advantage of the fact that the coaches are using the schools credit card and just get the nicest shit
Tendou also would pull that shit with me lmao
I feel like tendou would bring up the fact that i'm clearly not japanese and ask me if i'm a exchange student
He’d ask me if i knew french or another language and ask me if i could teach him some, Deadass a sweetie about it
Ushijima would ask me about american sports and if volleyball is big in america, would be sad to find out it isn't
Man would fucking hate football so much like im- mfker built like a linebacker too
Thank you for reading! have a good day/evening/night!
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Stones to Abbigale {Ch.2}
(Kat)
I actively want to die.
This book is making me suffer.
It’s terrible and I hate it.
Okay, here’s chapter two.
Also, I’m going to start new paragraphs whenever someone speaks because I find reading it without that formatting insufferable.
The following morning Mr. Hanson approached me in the hall before class started.
Wait, who is this again? The history teacher?
I actually forgot he existed.
"We're supposed to talk," he said in his usual stern voice.
I responded, "I know, but what about?"
He began gesturing with his hands as he often did, I guess it was a habit he developed to trick people into believing he was saying something interesting.
Or he just talks with his hands.
Like me.
"You know you're a smart kid, but you keep showing up late to my classes and it's becoming a problem" he said.
Surprised he showed genuine interest; I replied with a smirk, "I'll do better in the future."
He continued "Alright, well, I also wanted to ask you about a TA opportunity."
I replied, "You don't have a teacher's assistant?"
I’ve never heard of a high school student becoming a TA, but maybe it’s just not a thing at my high school.
I watched a bead of sweat fall down his balding forehead as he responded.
"The last TA moved, and yeah, you're not always on time, but you get your work done honestly and efficiently."
I asked, "Ok Mr. Hanson, next semester?"
He authoritatively replied "No, you can just take an elective class credit and I'll let your current teacher know you'll be working with me from here on."
I crave death.
I immediately thought of the possibility of losing art class and rejected the idea.
"My only elective is art class right now and I don't want to give that up" I said.
He took a step back looking offended and lost his temper, in a disgruntled tone he said "Art? Art class is a joke James! Tell me one person you know who is making a living painting pictures!"
Um.
There are many famous painters alive today who are rich.
Jeff Koons, Gerhard Richter. The list goes on.
All the students nearby in the hall stopped and looked towards the shouting. I looked at Mr. Hanson unaffected, reminding him I would not give it up. I wasn't about to sacrifice the one class I had with Abbi for alone time with a sweaty, anger-prone history teacher.
What-
Why do adults in this book act like petty children?
Mr. Hanson looked at everyone stopped in the hall and screamed "Oh ha ha, everyone look at Mr. Hanson he's such a goof, move along kids!"
Everyone just looked at him as he turned back to me, maintaining his clearly frustrated posture. He then waddled into his classroom to begin class.
My eyes are glazing over.
I reluctantly entered with the remaining students to sit at my desk, which was conveniently placed within broomstick range from Mr. Hanson's desk.
‘Broomstick range’ is now a system of measurement, apparently.
After enduring another useless history lesson revolving around my home state of Washington it was finally time for art class.
What a surprise, that’s also Onion’s home state.
I walked as fast as I could without looking too awkward, in my normal fashion, only to find Abbi wasn't even in the room. I sat down in my new seat and waited, only to see everyone but her fill the room.
Die mad about it.
Mrs. Stanley closed the door to our class trailer and instructed us to begin dismembering the possessions we brought from home. I began cutting the bear with a scalpel Mrs. Stanley provided me
No.
No.
Just no.
Scalpel?
Is your art teacher insane?
but my muscles seemed to work on their own as I found myself consumed with Abbi again, her overwhelming presence on the edge of every thought fragment in my mind. Just a short while into class I found myself looking down at my bear, now cut into 6 pieces. I felt like I was in a science lab dissecting an actual animal, the most noticeable difference being that the cotton stuffing didn't look like or stink of old flesh and death like real animals did.
I don’t know whether to cry, scream, or laugh about this.
Later that day during lunch, due to my mom not being able to afford buying me a cell phone, I used a payphone to call Abbi but got no answer. I didn't feel like eating so the rest of lunch I just sat on a bench outside staring at people interacting with each other. I made a major effort to distract myself knowing that focusing on what could be was mostly a waste considering I was so powerless to influence any change at that point. Even just watching the bushes move around in the wind made more sense to me than letting worry consume me.
More of this pretentious bullshit.
Later that night after I had just finished my shower I placed the one cordless phone we had in my house next to my bed on my windowsill. I would have dialed her but I didn't want to call more than once a day for fear of wearing out my welcome.
Good idea.
That night, a few different calls came in but they were always for my sister Lisa. Her receiving a barrage of phone calls from random guys was nothing new to anyone in the house.
The normal conversation you could expect to hear Lisa take part in, with excessive projection in her voice, would most always revolve around how stupid she thought other girls at school were and how she hates basically everything about Lakewood High.
I mean, who doesn’t hate high school? It kind of sucks.
I didn't want to know what she was talking about, ever,
Even if you just said what she was talking about.
but my TV volume couldn't compete with her voice. It was like she thought she was so important, everyone around her just had to hear everything she had to say no matter how trivial the topic. After a couple hours she finally stopped running her mouth so I turned off my TV and with it my room faded to darkness. I welcomed the silence like a warm blanket on a cold night.
I hate that simile.
I woke up the next morning to see the phone sitting there just like my stupid alarm clock, useless and unbearably annoying to look at. I expected it to sound off at some point but like the clock it failed to deliver.
If the alarm clock is broken, get a new one or throw that one away, or maybe fix it. There are many ways to fix your problem.
It was raining outside; clouds filled the sky in normal Lakewood fashion. I wasn't going to skate to school this time out of fear it would rust my skates and hinder my ability to skate fast if even at all.
If you briefly skate in the rain, it won’t do anything to your skates. That’s just how that works.
Instead I decided to ride the bus, pretending for only moments I really had a choice.
As I climbed up the bus steps, Davis rang out "Hallelujah, James is here to save everyone from the evil clouds!"
I genuinely smiled for the first time that morning thanks to him. As usual I sat next to the window seat that Davis courteously always offered me.
This book just has a way of making me want to die.
The beginning of history class was the same old story. As usual I barely paid attention. I just thought about Abbi and hoped she was ok.
Okay, the way this is written makes it seem like James only has history class and then art and that’s it and then school is over. That seems to be it.
And that bothers me.
Interrupting my thoughts of Abbi came a very rude outburst by Jason. It was odd to hear his voice, as I wasn't supposed to see him till art class. He stood outside our closed class door waving his hands in hopes of disrupting us.
Is he just standing there screaming outside the classroom door? That’s fucking stupid. There is no logical or comedic reason for him to do that.
It was clearly for no real reason more meaningful than a toddler would have in invok- ing chaos around their immediate environment. Some people just want to get an emotional reaction to their behavior so they can feel a sense of power or control.
So he cuts class to scream outside a classroom door?
Have fun in detention, dipshit.
Jason began banging on the door so Mr. Hanson walked over and opened the door and asked "Why aren't you in your class?"
Jason responded saying, "Got kicked out, what's up?"
Okay, so because of that bullshit, I believe Mr. Hanson should have the option to fucking destroy you.
"Go stand outside your class till it's over" Mr. Hanson commanded, Jason rebelliously replied, "Don't tell me what to do fatty."
Okay, so I’m mad about how Onion connected these two pieces of dialogue when he shouldn’t have, but I’m also mad at this fucking 3rd grade insult.
To a teacher.
I could see Mr. Hanson was about to lose it, so I interrupted. "No one wants you here Jason."
Rude but yes, James is right. Fuck right off.
Mr. Hanson looked back at me with a look of surprise. He seemed shock I would say anything on his behalf. Jason became extremely silent, now refusing to look anywhere but at me.
That’s... Alarming imagery.
His glare was intense but it seemed so forced, like he wasn't really offended but didn't want to look weak in front of everyone else.
I cannot imagine that in a way that invokes tension.
Mr. Hanson then closed the door inches away from Jason's nose but that didn't stop him from staring intensely through the vertical window slot in the door.
This literally sounds like a scene from The Office. It sounds like somethig Dwight Schrute would do.
He remained so still and consistent in his stare, it was almost as if he had become a red-faced almost cartoonish portrait hanging on the door.
Literally sounds like Dwight. I’m laughing my ass off.
As class came closer to an end Jason was no longer staring at me and wasn't even visible from my perspective. Knowing Jason had something left to prove, many of the students naturally assumed he was somewhere within the immediate vicinity. I could tell most everyone was concerned as they kept looking back at me, wondering what I was going to do about the clearly unstable and enraged jock that no doubt was still lurking just outside our door.
I can’t-
Is he a caricature? Of a fucking stereotypical jock?
Every kid in there knew I couldn't just hide out in the class. I was sure this was some kind of victory for Mr. Hanson. He knew I wouldn't have this immediate problem had I accepted his offer to TA for him.
It’s petty and stupid not to stop a potential fight between students because you’re mad at one of the students. Why is this asshole acting like a child?
Oh.
Right.
Because Onion regularly acts like a child.
My decisions led me to this; I built a doorway to certain destruction and I knew if I was going to be brave, I had to walk through it.
I don’t care.
Get the shit beat out of you.
You’re annoying.
I didn't have time to deal with hesitating once class was over, seeing Abbi was my real priority. I walked out with the class just like I normally did only this time Jason was following close behind, as I'm sure most everyone assumed he would. I was about to leave the main building to head over to the art trailer only to feel a hand grab my shoulder. The hand slipped as I pulled away, nails scraping along my skin to clamp on my shirt. I was then yanked swiftly back from the main hall door. It began.
I’ve written fight scenes before. This has no buildup like a fight scene should have.
I yanked my shirt aggressively out of his hand and clutched my now scratched up shoulder. I was now facing Jason who immediately lunged at me and threw me into the already half-broken hall door just behind me.
What door? Where is this fight taking place? in front of the school? Where is the main hall?
I’m very confused.
I bounced back from the impact and pushed Jason in the center of his chest to distance him from me so I could continue walking away. Without hesitation he used my response to justify further violence and began throwing punches. I was knocked to the ground within seconds and he began trying to pull off my backpack resulting in me being briefly dragged across the floor like a helpless child.
This... This is very very hard to picture as an actual series of events.
This is not how fight scenes work or how they should be written.
I was now a couple yards away from the door I was trying to leave through.
Oh, so this is inside. I pictured it outside because I wasn’t told that wasn’t where it was.
I twisted away to return to a standing position while simultaneously snatching my backpack back so hard that it flew out my hands and smacked the door behind me, leaving a huge crack in the glass. I could hear glass falling off the door behind me.
????
I cannot picture this happening it’s so strangely written.
People began to gather around us, and like a chemical reaction they began screaming just as they did before. Much of what was happening was a blur, but I remember they would scream every time Jason hit me throughout the irrefutably one-way fight. It quickly got to the point where I didn't even feel the punches, I could only hear them laughing and yelling as Jason swung again and again.
Has Onion only ever seen shitty high school movies? Because nobody acts like this.
I kept falling over and over but every time I would return to stand only to fail at defending myself from further blows. I didn't block a single hit; I didn't even throw one punch at him.
As my nose began to bleed one of the boys my sister was friends with, Matthew, grabbed me and pulled me out of the fight. He was twice my size but was also on Jason's football team so naturally he did nothing to help me win.
Bro he saved you from being punched repeatedly.
The only thing he offered me was an end to the beating I was suffering.
And that’s fine. Because Matthew is stopping the fight instead of continuing it. Which is the good thing to do.
Shortly after the fight ended I found myself sitting on a mattress in the nurses' office, not allowed to leave, not allowed to do anything but think about what happened.
I’d maybe take him to the hospital.
Despite everything in my head feeling scrambled and disorganized, there was Abbi, waiting in the same place, just as she sat in the back of class. She radiated warmly in the back of my mind.
Awesome.
As lunch approached Principal Leeman came into the room I was staying in at the nurses' office and asked me how I was feeling.
Why on earth did the principal come and check on him?
That’s bizarre.
I responded "Well, my tooth is chipped, my chin hurts, my face is bruised and I just got humiliated in front of my peers."
And you know your tooth is chipped without actually checking.
Fun.
Mr. Leeman said, "I've gotten multiple statements saying you pushed him. What's your response?"
James was literally attacked. It was not his fault. I will admit that, even if I hate him.
I replied "I pushed him back after he pushed me first. All I did was push him back once and then he did this to my face." I made a circular motion around my face showing how one-sided the fight way.
That bit of dialogue and the following description didn’t make any fucking sense.
Principal Leeman said in a commanding voice "Well he's suspended for 10 days," he paused and I felt relief assuming the Principal was on my side, but then he continued, "You will be suspended for 2 days."
The bitch didn’t fight back, but sure okay.
I was surprised they would suspend someone for just pushing back when they are pushed. What was I supposed to do? Just ignore being assaulted?
Valid point.
If school is meant to teach us how to survive in the real world, and in the real world you are legally allowed to defend yourself, how could they justify this punishment?
Never mind, shut the fuck up.
Principal Leeman informed me I could finish up the day and not return for the following two days.
I would assume James needs to go home or to the dentist due to his chipped tooth.
"You should be at least grateful for that, Jason was escorted off school grounds entirely," he said.
Principal Leeman stared at me sitting there, helpless and about to break down.
"Ok then, see you again in a few days" he said and quickly walked out.
All I could focus on feeling in that moment was the tacky ice pack on my face and a sinking feeling of worthlessness. It's not something I like to admit but the truth is I cried seconds after Principal Leeman left the room.
I mean, I would too.
The type of cry you suppress but your eyes still get become red, your body trembles & painfully hot tears still fall. It was the type of sadness that made a person ache to their core but you do your best to hold on, to not lose yourself to your emotions like you would so carelessly do as a child.
I have read descriptions of trying not to cry before, and this feels like a strange hollow replica of the things I read. I’ve written someone trying not to cry before.
While this does evoke some emotion, it’s very on the surface and not deep enough to make me feel anything heavy.
And it isn’t childish to cry, it’s human, so shut the fuck up, Onion.
I sat in the room alone till I could collect myself. Shortly after I gathered my stuff and proceeded to finishing my classes for the day.
There needs to be a comma after ‘shortly after’ or this reads like an incomplete sentence.
I also asked a couple of my teachers about any work I would miss so I could keep up while I was suspended but didn't have the motivation to stop by every single class before leaving the school entirely.
Have fun with the surprise homework you’ll have.
As I was about to get on the bus home I looked over to see Abbi again in the parking lot with her boyfriend Seth. They were standing by his car. This time they were not showing affection, in fact she seemed like she wasn't even willing to look at him despite him clearly and aggressively speaking to her.
Oh wonderful.
Abuse.
Don’t get me wrong, abuse is terrible and I hope from the bottom of my heart that if any of you are victims of abuse that you get the help you need, but this.
This seems cliché.
Without a second's thought I shifted away from the bus and began walking over to Abbi to see if she was ok. The more I could hear Seth's tone as I approached the more worried I became.
Okay, that’s a rational thing to do.
Seth reacted to me like a guard dog in a ghetto-fenced yard once he realized I was headed towards him.
That’s a little extreme.
He puffed out his shoulders and glared at me in attempts to look intimidating.
How does someone puff out their shoulders? Explain that to me.
Abbi remained upset, it seemed like she was emotionally unable to look any- where but the ground.
Do you mean physically? You can’t use your emotions to move your body. That’s just not a thing that exists. Sorry, Onion.
Now within a fair speaking range, I tried to sound optimistic for the sake of Abbi's emotional state, "Hey Abbi, were you at art class today?"
In.* In art class, I think you mean.
I asked.
Her boyfriend stepped in front of her to block my view and said, "Are you the kid that called her the other night?"
I responded, "Yeah, we're..."
"Just ignore him James" Abbi said mumbled loudly behind Seth.
Seth looked back as if an arrow had just been plunged into his chest.
So... He looked like he’d been shot?
Excuse me, the fuck?
Abbi then walked around him looking only at me and said, "Will you walk me..." but paused when she saw my face.
Abbi's facial expression changed quickly to shock as she asked in an alarmed tone "...what happened?"
Her boyfriend busted out laughing, "Oh, you didn't see this idiot get wrecked by Jason? He didn't even fight back. I would've had that jock prick choking in his own blood in seconds but you just took a beating like a..."
It’s like this guy looked at the viewer and said ‘I’m an asshole and you’re not supposed to like me.’
Abbi interrupted screaming, "Shut up Seth! You sadistic freak!"
Seth's grin turned into a scowl. He rapidly stepped towards her so I blocked his path by stepping in front of him. Seth looked more mortified than I had ever seen a person get. In such a short time knowing him I could see he had a number of mental and emotional issues, more so than I understood.
You just know this?
Again, why is James written like this? In a way that seems like he has psychic powers?
Seth didn't even try to get past me to Abbi; he let his voice reach her with his screams "You have no respect! After what I've done for you?"
Abbi replied, "I'm sick of this Seth, I want nothing to do with you."
Her voice cracked as Seth screamed once more. "If you're ending this again! I..."
He didn't know what to say, but in his eyes I could see a deep intense hatred. When I looked in most people's eyes I saw all kinds of things but in him there was only anger and pain. His hands were shaking furiously, his breathing noticeably irregular, he was losing it.
This is like a lizard person trying to describe how an angry person looks. It doesn’t make sense and it is mechanical.
Abbi still refused to look at Seth as he threw his tantrum. He yelled "Fine! Be with a guy who can't even protect himself! Idiot!"
Fine, be with someone who clearly isn’t abusive who you’ve talked to twice.
Seth got into his car as Abbi tightly grabbed my arm; her eyes remained closed like she was scared, hiding in a shell. She jumped at the sound of Seth slamming his car door.
Yikes.
Recklessly, Seth floored the gas pedal and his car lurched forward, barely missing Abbi and me as he pulled out of the parking lot.
I can’t even.
Abbi stood silently by with her eyes still closed. I didn't know how to act in a situation like this.
Trying not to make things worse I just said, "I will walk you home, to answer your question."
Abbi opened her eyes but remained silent. She nodded.
I am running out of gifs to express how annoyed I am.
We had been walking for a while, every step making us feel like we were slightly further from our problems.
She finally spoke, "So I was in Art Class and I saw your cut up bear."
I responded, "Yeah? Creepy right? Maybe it was a FUBAR idea." She laughed a little.
I forgot that he cut up the bear yesterday and not the same day this is taking place because Onion sucks ass at transitions and I actually forgot that there was a transition because it was forgettable.
"Yeah, I guess we're both kind of weird, I was all game for it." I softly laughed as I began to feel raindrops hitting my arms and neck.
"I hear running is just as bad as walking in the rain" I said.
"You get just as wet?" She replied.
"Yeah, something like that. It's like the harder you try to fix some problems, the worse they get."
I made a face similar to this gif in response to this nonsense.
I impulsively asked to confirm what I had earlier seen
"So your... Seth... is..."
She interrupted "Hopefully soon completely out of my life."
My curiosity overtook me, I asked, "What happened?"
She frowned and said, "Other than what happened in the parking lot?"
I responded "Well, I mean, I donno, don't say anything you don't want to."
Dunno.*
She stared at her feet as we continued to walk. I noticed her makeup was running. Shortly after she noticed too and began to rush us getting home.
Walking faster she said, "I'm sorry, I really don't want you to see me like this."
She continued to rush slightly ahead of me, I stopped walking and said "Hey!"
She slowed down and stopped still facing away from me.
We stood in the rain for only a few seconds before she asked, "Do you think makeup really helps anyone?"
I replied still looking at her back, "I think it helps us forget what we don't want to remember, it let's us pretend we're a little more perfect than we really are."
She laughed sadly and said, "That's one way to put it."
I smiled and replied "Makeup is just makeup, and skin is just skin. It is what it is."
I’d rather knock myself unconscious than read this waxing poetic pretentious bullshit.
You aren’t Walt Whitman, Onion boy. Shut up.
Abbi looked up at the rain for a moment and then down at the ground again. She then turned around with her rain-soaked face revealing what she was hiding under her makeup. Standing before her in the rain, looking at the results of what she had suffered, it broke my heart. Abbi wasn't worried about her makeup running for the reason I thought, she was just afraid of what I would think when I saw the bruises on her face, some just like mine.
You being beat up by someone isn’t as bad as the prolonged abuse Abbi has apparently been suffering.
So shut your fucking mouth you whiny bitch.
"Do you see them?" she asked with a quiver in her voice.
Without restraint I responded with the first thing that came to my mind, "I see beautiful girl, who I very much enjoy walking with in the rain."
Despite her face being covered in falling drops of water, I could clearly see tears fall from her eyes.
Okay. You’ve spoken to her twice now.
While this is slightly sweet, both of these characters have given me no reason to like them or grow attached to them, so I really don’t care about this interaction.
Her head fell forward as she began to shake, her tears falling almost in sync with the rain.
Okay.
Um.
Just... Okay.
I walked up to her and put my arm around her side and walked with her the rest of the way home.
As we got to her doorstep I said "I'm just seven letters away, call if you need anything ok?"
She smiled and nodded.
"See you tomorrow?" she asked.
I replied, "I got suspended for two days".
She looked offended "Woooow! Punishing the guy who got beat up, classy!"
She looks offended? Why? James didn’t offend her.
Also, it bothers me so fucking much that Onion puts the dialogue bits after the ‘she said’ part of the sentence. That is not how you write. At all.
Fuck you.
I responded, "Yeah... well, I pushed him back."
She replied "Clearly not hard enough."
I laughed sadly looking down as she unexpectedly wrapped her arms around me.
Despite it being so cold out and her being soaked, it was the warmest hug I had ever received. I hugged her back, said goodbye and walked home with a huge smile on my face, bruises and all.
Hallelujah. Fuck both of you.
Okay, so there are many things wrong with this.
The formatting is absolutely fucked and the characters are actually so deeply bland and flavorless that I cannot bring myself to like them at all.
Also, it romanticizes abuse.
Which is disgusting.
Okay, I’m gonna get on chapter three because I apparently love suffering.
Ugh.
~Kat
#stones to abbigale#ohnohetaliasues#mod kat#Mod Kat reviews stuff#Mod Kat reviews things#end my misery#I hate all the characters here#onision#i want to scream#mary sue#so annoying#gary stu#end my suffering#and my brain is melting out my ears#review#bad fanfiction#except it's a book#bad books#onision is disgusting#i hate this
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Missing Someone Like You
You’d never thought you’d gather the attention of Park Jimin again, or that he seemed to have forgotten that night, the night that would always stay with you.
College/ ex-friends to lovers AU Angst/ Fluff
Park Jimin. Who didn’t know him? He was sweet, courageous and a huge dork. Apparently, he had the ability to make girls hearts burst with a single wink. You knew that more than anyone, although he probably forgot.
The two of you had grown up together, him with the beautiful smile and love of dance, and you with eyes like stars and love of photography and art. A pretty pair you were, even if it seemed to shock everyone who knew you. They used to call him ‘Bubbles’. Everyone loved him, and he loved them all back. With a heart so full of love, who wouldn’t fall for him? After spending at least ten years with him cuddling you, something was bound to bloom, and it ripped you apart.
18. The age of new beginnings and mistakes. Maybe confessing whilst out with your best friend and the girl who basically wanted to own him wasn’t the best idea, but who said you could read minds. It was late, and the stars were out, after what felt like years of cloudy, rainy nights. Which is ironic, considering it was raining that night. Perhaps telling him you loved him was not the best idea. Telling him you thought you had fallen in love with him years ago was even worse.The way he turned you down wasn’t as bad as some others. He told you that you were like his sister, and he wouldn’t want to damage your friendship. So he did the opposite, and ignored you straight afterwards.
The next evening, your parents told you that they were getting a divorce and your first instinct was to run to him. But he wasn’t there, he was on a date with that girl. In the end, you told his parents everything, down to his words when he rejected you. They weren’t happy. Not at all. After all, they were certain that he liked you back. In the end, it felt like you couldn’t keep anything from them, nor did you want to. They felt like your family.
It felt strange to be ignored by Jimin, and to walk alone through school. You didn’t have many friends until a kid called Jungkook started to follow you around and chat to you about cameras. He was a good laugh, and could carry you around on his shoulders if you wanted. Somewhere along the way, you made him promise you to go to the same university that you were. He became your brother, and knew everything about you. Losing Jimin wasn’t so bad with him by your side.
It was strange to drive up to university by yourself, but it wasn’t so bad. You made fast friends with a dude called Taehyung in your photography class, and later worked with him on almost every project in that class. You also shared a similar love of bad romance films. Eventually, it felt like he’d been there forever, and that Jimin was an imaginary friend. Tae always lead you in mostly the right direction, and you were there to pull him back when he didn’t. Fridays went from working on projects to pizza and movie nights.
Jungkook fit in perfectly with the two of you, becoming a willing model and always being there to lug around your stuff when you had one of those days. It became perfectly domestic in a way that made everything feel right. There were days that you just went out because you felt like it and days that staying inside drinking proper hot chocolate was right.One day Jungkook brought Yoongi to you, who was bitter and sweet like dark chocolate, and with him came Namjoon, a giant with the kindest heart on earth. The words always came out of Yoongi’s mouth right the first time, and Namjoon could make you think by asking something as simple as ‘“Are crabs sentient?”’ They became your home, and your escape.
You ran into Jimin once, and it was filled with tension. Not sexual tension either, one of words left unsaid and battles that would never happen. It was short and curt, like ex-lovers, not the friends you once were. No harsh words were said, but it felt like there should have been. You’d heard that he had broken up with her, once she got bored with him. She actually started chasing Yoongi, which was funny to all of you as he was whipped for someone called Yuna. It almost looked like Jimin blamed you for it, and to be fair, you never trusted her. He left without saying goodbye before you could tell him that your parents had divorced. He almost fled you, like he was afraid you were going to confess again. Which was even more hilarious, considering you got over him to an extent. He was an ache in you chest, only you couldn’t take painkillers for it like that time you sprained your ankle. In all honesty, you never thought you’d speak to him again.
It was months later that you saw him again, and it was when you were walking through the streets of Busan with Jungkook and Taehyung, on the way to the house you’d grown up in. You had to do a project on your home, and you two were taking it literally, with photos of where, and in Tae’s case, who you’d grown up with. Then, there would be photos of you and your friends apartments with everyone there, even some of the weird people the Namjoon knew there. Somewhere along the way, you’d realized that it was the people who made somewhere a home, not what is actually there. That may have been why it never felt right when Jimin wasn’t there when you were younger.
He was walking behind you, and decided that it was a perfect time to call out to Jungkook, just as you were about to talk to him. It lead to rather tense looks from Tae, who knew about everything that had happened, and would probably have punched Jimin, were you not holding him back. Maybe he remembered when you said, “I wish I’d fallen in love with someone like you,” or maybe he just hated Jimin. He did have a bit of a thing for Jungkook after all. For someone who said they never wanted to talk to you again, he seemed awfully interested in you, or more why you were back in Busan. He was the one who never came home to see his parents. Too busy partying, or enjoying all the attention that being a dancer came with. And then, he spoke. “Y/N? I haven’t spoken to you in ages! We need to hang out again. Maybe whilst you’re here?” Some distant part of you wanted to say yes. But it wasn’t worth the ache in your chest. He wasn’t worth crying over, not anymore. It was worth the nostalgia, and you said yes, just for the memories. After you hung out, you found yourself in bed with him. That was an interesting development. As was the fact that his room hadn’t changed one bit. There was even that old polaroid of the two of you on the wall. You remembered that day, it was before you messed everything up. Before you realized you were in love with him. Maybe you should never have confessed, never told him how you felt. It broke the two of you apart. But you did meet everyone you care about afterwards. You wouldn’t change a thing.
He wasn’t there when you got up, neither was their a note. He’d just left. Maybe you should never have gone and ended up in bed with him. It was clear that he only wanted a quick lay from you, and not to actually to smooth things out with you. And maybe the look on Tae’s face when you escaped back to your house and told him, was the worst thing. You didn’t do any of the work that day, and actually spent it all in his arms. He was truly your friend, and knew what you needed, when you needed it.
You avidly avoided Jimin for the most of your time in Busan again. Unfortunately, he caught you on your last day there. “Y/N! Wait!” His voice filled your ears, and it felt familiar. “What do you want Jimin?” Maybe your spoke with anger or hurt, but he seemed put off. “We need to talk. Somewhere private.” Oh now he wanted to talk. “Fine. Take me there.” He had changed.
You two had walked to the diner, or the place that was your favourite hangout. You could remember many evenings spent over chocolate milkshakes there. It had so much history. The decor hadn’t even changed much! “Y/N. Look, I’m really sorry about leaving you. My parents wanted to go out and didn’t take no for an answer. They basically pulled me out of the house!” Of course it was his parents fault. Of course it was. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” It would have felt cold to him, but that was how you truly felt now. “What happened to you? Why do you treat me so coldly now?” Well you could make a nice list for him if he wanted it so badly. “Well, having your heart broken is quite a good reason. So is seeing your parents divorce.” Your voice was filled with spite. “What? They divorced? Why didn’t you tell me?” Oh here we go. “I tried! You ignored me whenever I tried to speak to you, you ran off! You always ignored me!” Jimin looked immensely shocked. “I-what? But I didn’t?” “Bullshit! You literally stopped working with me on any group project! I didn’t have any friends in our year! I had no one to work with!” He was tearing up. “But- I didn’t- If I did-” He’d actually started crying now! You should be the one crying! You were the one who’d lost everything that you believed in! So you obviously ended up leaving, because that’s the best thing you can do when someone you loved is crying.
Once again, you ended up confiding in Tae, curled up on your bed. You were behaving like a kitten, which was probably adorable until you ended up snotty crying all over his jeans. Jungkook ended up coming over as well, bringing chocolate, popcorn and bad romance films to help you get over your pain. It probably didn’t do much more then cause you to gain a few pounds. You could hear someone banging on the door, but none of you felt like moving.
You left for Daegu two days later, and spending time with Tae’s family was probably some of the most fun you’d had in a while. You saw where he got his kindness from. Any and all of the photos were beautiful, and you ended up finding Yoongi one day too. His parents were lovely, if a bit stiff, but his mum did make delicious kimchi.
Once you went back to Seoul, life felt normal again. Everyone was back together, and no one questioned your mysterious hook-up. Friday nights were spent over pizza, and occasionally alcohol. However, you were the one avoiding Jimin now. It still felt like you been played by him, and that was what hurt the most. Resentment and revenge were not good things to keep inside, but there was no chance in hell that you were doing anything about it. Yoongi started to disappear sometimes, and through the gossip tree (read Jackson), you discovered that he was helping a dancer with music and composition. You did end up finding out in the end, and bright, bubbly Hoseok joined your group. Jungkook knew him too, and apparently Jimin did too.
As an unspoken rule, your friends never went to parties, but Hoseok did drag you all too a few. You, Namjoon and Yoongi spent all your time awkwardly standing near the drinks hoping to never have come. However, one good thing happened at a party, Tae ended up drunkenly confessing to Jungkook, and their relationship soared from there. It was sweet, abet gross to see them together.
It was at one of these parties that you ran into Jimin again. He looked good. That was the worst part, after going back to Busan, your attraction to him resurfaced. Maybe hooking up with him then wasn’t a good idea. Everything you’d felt had resurfaced. Life was not treating you well. Obviously, hiding next to the drinks wasn’t the best idea, ad he made his way over to you. “Y/N,” He slurred. Oh great “I love you…” “You’re drunk Jimin, go home.” “But I love you, I always have. You were so pretty and perfect and she was a distraction and then you confessed and I fucked up and said no and ignored you and broke your heart and then fucked you and broke your heart again and then you ignored me and now you’re here in front of you and I could just eat you out no up.” He managed to get all that out before hiccuping which is surprising. “Jimin you need to leave. This isn’t the time to rectify mistakes. Go home.” Thank you Namjoon. “Fine but I will find you and love you.” He wandered off, ideally to never been seen again.
After that, you barely went outside unless you had to. It was probably a far too extreme method of ignoring him but it worked. You rarely ever saw him. Life got better again, and somehow you made a new friend. Jae. He was fun and a change. Never asked questions, and always provided food. It was easier to avoid Jimin with him. He wasn’t interested in popularity, or doing much more than playing with his band and graduating. Jimin disappeared again, and none of you could care less. There were rumors of course, of him fucking, and then stopping fucking anyone. They said he was a monk, girls said that they were the best he’d ever had, and had ruined him for anyone else. Some said he’d fallen in love. As if he could do that.
Seasons passed by and things changed quickly. Life was peaceful once again, and everyone had settled again. There were sometimes moments where you felt a weight on your heart, as if you made a mistake. It was easy to dismiss this feeling, and there was probably nothing to it. After all, what did you have to regret?
Why? Why was Jimin at your door? What stupid thing has he done now? And of course, you did the normal sane person thing. You let him in. And oh boy, he was crying. Since you’d met and ended up becoming closer to Yoongi, you’d lost some of your empathy. That was not good. It was hard to understand what he said, but it sounded like apologies. Why was he saying sorry? He hadn’t done anything recently. “Y/N I’m sorry I was so mean-” He sniffed. “Quiet Jimin, you don’t know what you’re saying.” “Yes I do! I hurt you again!” “So what? Do you really still think it’s like the first time?” “What?” “Jimin, you really think I’m the same person I was when I was 18?” “Yes…” “Oh my fucking god how dumb can you be? People do change over 3 years!” “But-” “You left me with no friends Jimin! I couldn’t talk to anyone without them asking if I was actually in love with you! Kook was the only one who didn’t care! And then, I had to start uni alone! I didn’t have anyone to eat with again! Do you know how many times I wanted to go home? Wanted to give up and spend all my time with Kook?” “But you had Tae?” “You really think I’d actually tell him I couldn’t cope? That’s one hell of a way to lose a friend!” Oh great, now you’re crying too. “You had me…” “Since when?! You’d actually come and help?!” “No…” “Exactly!” “I’m sorry… “ “I fucking hate you Park Jimin.” “I know.”
Oh wait fuck. Now you’re kissing. Why the fuck are you kissing? In all honesty, it wasn’t the worst kiss you ever had, no, that was Jackson when he was drunk out of his mind. Did he mean to - probably not but he could never hold his liquor, even if he tried. And you’re pretty sure he’s never tried anything in his life.
“Jimin? Why?” “I’ve wanted to do that for years.” “You didn’t answer my question.” “You looked so good and I just wanted to and I’m sorry please don’t hate me.” “So you wanted to kiss me just now?” “Well I’ve wanted to kiss you a lot but I only realised now or a while ago I can’t remember.” “Are you drunk?” “I have to be to talk to you.” “You fuckface.” Now that definitely came from Yoongi. “Please forgive me.” “If I didn’t forgive you why would I be talking to you?” “Oh… Do you want to go on a date with me?” “As long as you’re sober.”
And everything ended happily ever after. Apart from that one time he fell down the stairs.
#fic#bts fic#fanfic#bts fanfic#jimin#park jimin#jimin bts#bts angst#bts fluff#angst#fluff#jimin angst#jimin fluff#college au#student!jimin#student!reader#jimin x reader#bts x reader#missing someone like you
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Chapter 10: Family stands together
“No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.” ― Eleanor Roosevelt, This is My Story
Beginning / Previous / Next
A disappointment, as usual, his father had muttered under his breath every so often after Rocco had come home from school bruised and crying because he let his classmates beat him up again. Crybaby, they taunted him with wide sneers and eyes full of with callous glee. Little Mama’s Boy.
I’m not a Mama’s boy!, Rocco always insisted, their laughter swarming in his ears. His mother had wished for a daughter she could groom into a miniature version of herself, not a frail, cowardly son who could barely stand up against his older brothers. From day one, he’d been their punching bag, their prey to test the art of intimidation until they were old enough to inherit their father’s drug empire. When he was too young to properly understand what exactly his father’s legacy was, he’d asked Enzo and Rafael about it. His brothers had exchanged looks and smirked at each other before towering over Rocco. Dad is selling lots of candy, which makes other people happy, Enzo teased, mimicking a baby’s voice. Except if you’re eating to much candy, you’ll die! Rafel added with a chuckle. Better watch out for people giving you candy, it’ll kill you. Bring it to me and Enzo first, we’re testing it for poison. Timid and confused, Rocco had glanced from one brother to the other. But won’t the candy hurt you too? Hearing this, Enzo and Rafael had broken out into resounding laughter and slapped each other’s backs. Don’t worry about us, sissy, Rafael all but yelled. It’s only killing the weak pussies!
Back then Rocco hadn’t yet realized it how unwanted he was, but his family had put in the effort to make it clear over the following years. Dude, what a pantywaist, Rafael had snarled on an evening the three brothers were at home alone and they had watched a slasher movie on TV. Enzo and Rafael giggled when the killer started chasing his victims through the woods and rammed his chainsaw through their torsos, causing their guts to spill out – but Rocco had started to cry. Annoyed with his whining, his brothers had grabbed his arms and legs and dragged him downstairs into the basment, looking the door behind him. Rocco had sobbed and banged his fists against the solid door and begged for them to let him out. We’re only protecting you from the killer, Rocco! Enzo rasped behind the door. He’s coming for yooouuuu! Rocco screamed and screamed until his throat was sore and his knuckles were bruised from banging. Many hours later his parents had come down and unlocked the door, their faces twisting in disapproval at the sight of Rocco’s face which was swollen from crying. When they called Enzo and Rafael out of bed and asked why they’d left their younger brother alone in the basement for hours, Rafael made an innocent face. Because he’s weak, dad! Enzo and I, we were just trying to make a man out of him! Their father had sent the two back to bed without punishment.
With the years the brothers grew older, and with age they grew more hostile. They weren’t resorting to pranks to maltreat Rocco any longer, they just beat him up when he annoyed them and told Rocco he deserved this. Crazy as it was, they almost seemed to view it as a challenge. Fight back, Rafael coerced him after he’d destroyed Rocco’s solar system project for school and kicked him in the side when he scrambled to pick up the shambles. Fight back, FIGHT BACK! But Rocco didn’t know how. He'd always looked pathetic next to Enzo, the smartass brain of their family and Rafael, his father’s fierce and charming golden boy who could do nothing wrong. For the son of an infamous mafioso, Rocco admittedly had no qualities worth mentioning. He’d ― very briefly ― enjoyed painting with watercolor when he was nine or ten years old, but he gave up on the hobby after his siblings discovered his art hidden at the back of his wardrobe and boxed holes through the canvas’. Looks better that way, Enzo said when Rocco found the paintings completely destroyed. Afterwards, Rocco tried out boxing at school, but he was a hopeless case at sports and the trainer critiziced his moves were clumsy and weak.
After his brothers left to attend college, Rocco stopped talking to them for years. They rarely came home to visit and when they did he was basically air to them. Enzo studied history and Rafael economics. Both graduated with honors and soon afterwards Enzo got married to his wife Blaise and had Tessa, Rafael got married to Carol and they had Eleanor, Kara and Miranda. Rocco on the other hand was lucky to even graduate high school, seeing how badly his grades had dropped over the years. His teachers often complained that Rocco was distracted at school and didn’t do his homework, which was true in a way ― he was usually under too much stress to concentrate on homework. With grades as disastrous as his own, college plans were cancelled and he started out infinitely low on the career ladder, working as a tough guy in the criminal career in hopes of supporting his father someday. He’d lost count of how many women he dated up to that point ― since high school his girlfriends they had come and gone. He longed for a stable relationship such as his brothers had, but it seemed no woman could endure Rocco for long. They all insisted it wasn’t his fault that the relationship failed ― then in the same breath had criticized Rocco for shutting out emotions, not being tender, distanced, overall not husband material. It was almost funny after he’d spent all his life trying to be strong and not show his his emotions because in his family’s eyes emoting equalled weakness. He didn’t know how to open his heart anymore.
This november, Rafel had hosted a grand gala dinner at his house ― a celebration for his newly secured business deal with Nicholas Prescott, an influental politican and the richest man in all of Brindleton Bay. After they’d quaffed a considerable amount of liquor, Rafael led Rocco into his office and sorted the family pictures on the shelves, most of them showed little Miranda and the twins when they were younger. Then he’d opened a drawer and pulled out a frame showing a woman Rocco had never seen before. She was heartbreakingly beautiful, her lips a velvet red, her eyes a sparkling turquoise and her hair a curtain of platinum. Rocco was about to ask who she was, but his brother answered the thought before he got the chance to upen up his mouth. This is Patricia Prescott. Isn’t she the most gorgeous gem you’ve seen, little brother? Rocco shifted uncomfortably on his spot by the door frame, but Rafael went on, apparently a lot more drunk than he’d realized earlier. Weird, disjointed talk about how Nicholas was the most gullible fool Rafael had ever met, how empowering it felt to woo Nick’s wife behind his back. How he wished Patricia would go ahead and divorce her husband, so that their family could be complete. Rocco was not about to question what this bullshit meant, but the longer his brother kept on talking the more infuriated Rocco became. Their father’s business ― no, their family legacy ― relied heavily on Rafael’s business deals with Nicholas Prescott. He couldn’t believe his irresponsible brother was risking it all to mess around with Prescott’s wife! Losing Prescott’s financial help could very well push them into ruin. The business hadn’t exactly run smoothly after the old man retired and left Rafael in charge ― who messed up more deals with potential partners than he secured! Rafael simply didn’t have the brains Enzo could have offered, or the strategic talent Rocco had proclaimed for himself as a hacker over these past years.
A few hours after this confusing, aggravating conversation, Rafael seemed to have sobered up enough to realize who he'd been talking to. He approached Rocco, asking him to keep the newly aquired knowledge about his affair with Prescott’s wife to himself. Their father mustn’t know about this. Sure, he and Rocco have had their troubles with each other in the past, but that was long ago ― everything was forgiven and forgotten, right?
Rocco wished he had the courage to reply that nothing was forgiven. Didn’t his brother realize how shitty his behavior had been, how badly he'd messed Rocco up back when he was small and defenseless? No, this time Rocco was in charge ... and he wanted to make Rafael pay. He wanted to punish him a hundred times worse, wanted to make him realize how strong and capable inferior little Rocco had become. They never took him serious until they all came crawling to him and asked for favors. Not so long ago, his niece had asked for his help to scare off some boys from school who followed her around. Nelly ― or was that Kara? He never bothered to try and tell them apart ― was always convinced someone was out to get her, although Rocco long suspected all of Rafael’s kids had some screws loose. But Nelly was by far the worst brat amongst them, the one always strutting around with a smug expression, acting like she was some sort of sovereignty. After Enzo declined his father’s offer to take over the company, Rocco should have been the one to be put in charge ― he had grown up to be far more qualified than both his brothers. Instead his father had chosen Nelly as his heiress, a naive little school girl, who had never contributed to anything. It wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t fair and someone had to pay the price for all the ways and years Rocco’s family had wronged him. If that someone needed to be Nelly, then so shall be it. The only thing Rocco knew for certain was that he would not be overlooked, or trampled over ― or underestimated ― ever again.
Next Chapter: Two can keep a secret ...
#ts4#thesims4#sims#stories#Sims Stories#storytelling#thesims#gameplay#mystery#a deceptive perfection
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Crisis Control
The second part of the new series with @kruk-art‘s Awan!
Anathema visits Awan!
Spoilers ahead!
______________________________
The tweezers slide off your hand at the last moment, and you can smell the burnt electronics as the device dies once more.
“Shit!” you say slamming your fist against the wall.
It’s your third attempt, and it ended up just like the first two. The scrambler you’re working on should throw Void’s targeting systems off if you ever get it to work. That could give you an edge, you’re tired of his perfect aim...
“Mrreeewww” Pidgeon says rubbing against you.
You pet him absently, instantly feeling a bit calmer… the simplicity of his mind is soothing. It’s very complex work, and you’re not a specialist, but you’ll get it working, doesn’t matter if it takes one or twenty attempts.
You can do this…
“Hungry Pidgeon? Let’s get you some food… and then we’re going to work the hell out of this thing”
After attempt number seven, it finally works, and you fall on the bed exhausted, Pidgeon climbing over your arm and falling asleep, with you soon following.
_______several hours later__________
“Let me out! I don’t like this!” You yell desperately.
“Don’t be so dramatic!” Nathaniel says, his arms crossed, from the other side of the glass on your chamber
“But it stings!” you say looking at the industrial shower nozzles above you. “Water pressure is insane on that thing and the chemicals...”
“It’s just a regular procedure! Your skin is still adjusting to being out of your pod!”
“You haven’t ever done this before! You don’t know how it is!” You’ve done this dozen of times now...
He sighs.
“You’re just being one big child. You’ll get used to it!”
“I’d want to see you get used to it!!” you challenge him
“Oh, you would like that, you little runt? Well, I’m going to show you!” he says starting to take his clothes off.
“Nat, I’m not sure you should do that...” the operator starts...
“Shut it, Jeff. I’m going to show my doll how much of a whiner he is!”
“Alright... Suit yourself. You show him who’s boss” Jeff smiles.
“I know you’re the boss Nath, I just want to get out! This isn’t... Aaaahhh!!” you yell as the pressurized water starts running down, piercing you like daggers. The chemicals get into your eyes and it burns like fire. This is hell...
“Oh come on! It’s not that bad!” he says standing in his underwear in front of you.
“Let me show you,” he says entering the adjacent chamber. “Hit me, Jeff!”
“Alright!”
“You’re always complaining about everything!. This is just a bit of water and... Ghaaa!!!” he screams as water starts running on his own chamber too, the excessive pressure pushing him to the floor.
Jeff just giggles as you bot keep banging on against the glass doors. There’s no release to be had until the cycle’s complete.
________________________________
Banging on the door…
You cover yourself with the sheets
“Hello?” someone asks.
“Wha…” you asks opening your eyes and coming out of the dream.
“Anyone home?” the familiar voice says.
You know who he is even before your powers pick up the mind behind the door.
Anathema.
“I’m coming!”
“Pidgeon… sorry, time to move” you say putting the cat down. “Why is he here?” you wonder getting some pants on and walking to the door.
“Awan are you in here?” more banging
“IM COMING!” you say as you hurry for the door.
Open it up, just a bit, with the chain latch on. It could still be some kind of trap… you never know.
“Hey!” he says looking at you through the small opening. “Came to check on you.”
Friendly smile, check. Plausible reasons for showing up unannounced, check.
Genuine concern, check. Darn. He’s already scored 3 points ahead of you.
“Hi,” you say almost reluctantly. “I’m fine”
“Ortega told me you got shot.”
“Yes, but I got better”
“Uhu,” he nods. He’s clearly not buying it.
“Yeah. It was nothing really”
“He told me it was two shots to the chest”
“He’s being dramatic”
“And then you ran away having some sort of breakdown”
“He’s exaggerating. It was late so I came home.”
“Well I’m glad to hear that”
“Good”
“I mean you’d tell me if things weren’t ok, right?”
“Obviously” you lie.
“But nothing’s wrong”
“Nope”
“Perfect. So can I come in?”
“Why?”
“Because I’m your friend?”
“We can be friends from here”
“I did invite you to my place… and I paid for your dessert last time… and it was a big one”
“You did…” It was one big expensive ice-cream, you have to admit.
“So you owe me”
“ … “
“Open the door Awan”
“Uh… Do I have to?”
“Yes, unless you want to have a puddle of acid instead of a door.”
“But I told you I'm fine!”
“Yeaaah… that’s bullshit. Open up already, let me see what we’re dealing with”
You freeze for a few seconds, pondering over your options. You could still escape through the window… Or just block the door with furniture…
“Fine. You can come in” you concede in the end.
“Thanks!” he says with a bright smile as you close it, remove the chain and let him in.
He takes a few steps inside, smiling at you.
“I didn’t know you were coming! Didn’t have time to tidy up!” you say quickly, moving to the side to let him in.
“Oh it can’t be that bad” he keeps walking forward…
Until he freezes, his eyes going all over the current state of your apartment. The broken boards… The cracked paint. The disassembled electronics laying around all over the place. The cat, eating from your unfinished meal over the table. The mess that is your bed. Your clothes, laying around everywhere. The broken chair laying in pieces on a corner…
“... And you had the guts to tell me you were fine…” he says taking a deep breath.
Why the hell did you open that door…?
------A few hours later-----------
You’re exhausted… Anathema became a pure force of nature, and you had no choice but to join him in cleaning the whole place. Throwing the trash, ordering your stuff, folding your clothes, doing laundry…
You’ve got to admit it’s looking pretty decent now. Almost like a real home. Even Pidgeon approves, now that he has his own place on a cushion and most of the obstacles and trash have been removed.
“Isn’t this better?” he asks.
“Yes,” you answer embarrassed. It’s obviously so much better.
“You’ve got to take care of yourself man”
“I know”
“How’s the chest wounds?” he asks, still concerned
“THose are fine!” you say quickly. “Not going to a hospital”
“Fine.. fine… “ he says a bit startled “I don’t get it what’s with you and hospitals”
“I don’t trust them”
“Alright, I won’t insist,” he says letting it go. “I’m just worried about you”
“I know… and.. “
“Hmm?” he looks at you a bit puzzled.
“Thank you,” you say, swallowing hard. “Thank you for coming here I mean…” Thank you for caring, is what you actually want to say.
“Hey it’s ok!” he grins “I’m here for you, I told you.” he looks at the bags of trash ready for the recycling bins “How did it get so bad?”
Now that’s a good question.
“I don’t know… I guess I’ve been alone too long? At some point… it stopped mattering”
“Well, things like this do matter… Or at least they should. It’s your house after all. You live here”
“That’s true…” you admit. You hadn’t really thought about it… This was just your hideout. A base. A place to sleep in while you plan your next move. Somewhere you could keep Pidgeon safe. Not a home. Not a place to live in…
“There’s life beyond all that,” he says pointing at your large clue board” he smiles. “Don’t let it consume you.
“I’ll try not to,” you say returning the smile.
“I know all about this…” he says “...I mean I had some severe depressions too”
“I’m not depressed…” you say, doubts invading your mind the moment you say it. Are you?
“You say that but... letting go of yourself like this, It's a clear sign, you know?”
You sigh. There might be more truth to this than you can admit to yourself…
“Does it get better?” you ask, immediately feeling embarrassed. Why are you admitting this…? Why let him know how you …
“Yeah” he answers putting a hand over your shoulder. “It does get better. Trust me, it does”
You chat for a few more hours after that.
Time seems to go fast.
Talking to him comes naturally, and makes you think about stuff you hadn’t ever considered. Your projects for the future. Your thoughts on the city. Gossiping about the other rangers. Hearing his experiences with his transition...
Something slowly begins to crack in your armor. He’s doing with Void’s bullets could not.
_____________________
My Fanfics: https://chaniters.tumblr.com/post/181692759294/my-fanfiction-for-fallen-hero
DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fan fiction using characters and the setting of the Fallen Hero: Rebirth and upcoming Fallen Hero: Retribution games written by Malin Riden. I do not claim ownership of any characters from the Fallen Hero wold. These stories are a work of my imagination, and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon. These works are intended for entertainment outside the official storyline owned by the author. I am not profiting financially from the creation of these stories, and thank the author for her wonderful game/s, without which these works would not exist.
#fallen hero: rebirth#fallen hero fanfic#Awan Cormac#Anathema#Taking care of oneself#fallen hero spoilers
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Love Lies (1/15)
Summary:
Ever since Emma was 13, she knew she had the ability to destroy people if she wanted to, and some days, she really wanted to. After being forced to go the the Greenwood Academy following a traumatizing event in her childhood that brought to the surface her ability to manipulate fire, she never thought she would be free of the place. So for nearly 10 years, she lived a solitary existence with the exception of her best friends, but that was all about to change.
Killian Jones had just been sentenced to attend the university campus at Greenwood Academy after an accident at sea caused him to be dishonorably discharged from Her Majesty's royal Navy and lose his hand. He doesn't know what to think about these newfound powers and what they spell for the rest of his now not-so-normal life. But a chance encounter one day has the ability to change all of that.
A story about love and redemption between two people that shows, if you have the right person beside you, you can find a light in the darkness.
Rating: M
Content Warnings: Mentions of Violence/Death, Brief mention of Childhood Abuse/Sexual Assault, Mild Sexual Content
Notes: Oh My Goodness! It's Finally Here! This is my first completed work (ever) and my first story for the CSBB! This AU has been a baby of mine for a while, and this project finally gave me the push to finally get it down onto paper and out of my head. I couldn't do it on my own though, I have a HUGE thank you to give to my beta @daveyjacobsthepotterhead. Without her guidance, this work wouldn't be nearly as good and composed as it is now. Thank you again for finding all of my plot gaps and inconsistencies and dealing with my, at times, horrible grammar. You have been my cheerleader since we were paired together and I couldn't have asked for a better experience. Thanks to @princesse-swan as my artist as well! I can't wait for all you lovely readers to see the wonderful art that she has put together for this story, I am blown away by it! Thanks again to the Mods for the BB, you ran a great project this year and kept me moving the entire time, even when it seemed like I was not going to be able to finish. Thanks to all the wonderful ladies on the discord chat, I will remember those late night, incoherent sprints always.
Without further ado, here is my Captain Swan Big Bang! Enjoy!
Read of FF: Link
Emma just made it into the doors of Mary Margaret’s dorm before the skies opened up and rain began to pour down from the heavens. She knew that it was supposed to rain that day, but in typical college student fashion, she decided against bringing her umbrella with her and just risk it.
Shaking her hair out from under her hat, she started to make her way up the back stairwell towards the fourth floor. David and Mary Margaret, she knew, were already waiting for her in Mary Margaret’s room for their planned study session for Ethics 104. She hated that class.
To be honest, she hated a lot of the whole, college charade that the school was putting up. That’s what this entire school was, a charade, it was a cleverly disguised prison. Schools like Greenwood were where they sent anyone who was deemed to be “different”, which was complete bullshit in her opinion. Anyone who manifested any type of power or gift, be it completely harmless to something deadly like her own powers, was sent here, or one of the dozens of other schools around the world like it.
But what made Greenwood Academy different was that it was one of seven schools in the country that had a college as part of the locked campus. Which was why Emma and her friends were currently suffering through Ethics 104 with the world's most boring professor.
Pushing past a group of students coming down the stairs, she rounded the final corner and made her way up the final flight of stairs towards the door to the fourth floor. Bright neon pages decorated the inside of the stairwell on the floor. Join KickBoxing Club, Friday nights in Fourtner Hall; Rock Climbing adventures, Starting the second weekend into Fall Semester. All of them meant to draw in the attention of the students visiting the hall, but all of them came with their own starred caveats at the bottom, “Super Strength not allowed, Students with physical powers not allowed, Must not have a power activated by physical contact to attend, NO HIGH RISK STUDENTS.” Emma sighed every time she saw them, since she was never able to go. Emma did her best to ignore the brightly colored advertisements as she walked down the hall. While they held interest as something she could possibly do besides just hanging out with her friends or in her room, she wasn’t able to participate as a high risk student.
Making a right turn down the hall, Emma arrived outside of Mary Margaret’s door and gave a quick knock. After hearing her chipper “Come in!” through the door, Emma turned the knob and dropped her bag next to the door.
“Looks like you made it here just in time Emma, it’s really coming down out there.” David commented from the middle of the notebooks and laptops scattered about the floor.
Mary Margaret was sprawled out on her bed amongst her textbooks, highlighting the middle of a paragraph in bright pink highlighter, adding to the already colourful carnage on the page.
“Definitely, considering I left my umbrella in my room this morning.” Emma commented back, shrugging out of her leather jacket and hanging it on the back of the computer desk chair that was to her left.
Emma grabbed her notes and textbook and moved across the room to spread her stuff out on the desk next to David. Right after she got settled the door swung open again, revealing to the three of them a soaking wet Ruby Daniels.
“Looks like you weren’t the only one to have left their umbrella behind.” Mary Margaret commented dryly.
Ruby paused in the middle of the room as three sets of eyes turned to look at her, and with a small smirk as their only warning, shook out her red and brown locks like a disgruntled wet dog.
David picked up his text book off the ground and began to brush the water from the pages, “Geez Ruby, was that really necessary?”
Ruby continued to look around the room with a wolfish grin on her face, knowing that she had succeeded in getting a rise out of her friends. “True, I didn’t have to, but isn’t it more entertaining when I do?” She asked, quirking an eyebrow as she shrugged out of her coat and hung it in her closet.
While Emma and Mary Margaret had roomed next to each other Mary Margaret’s first year at Greenwood, Ruby had stumbled upon their friend group by chance. There was one night freshman year when Mary Margaret and David had gone out and gotten trashed after a particularly hard exam week, and David had gotten lost in the woods.
Ruby just happened to be partying in the same area and overheard the distressed phone call that Mary Margaret had made to Emma back on campus, not being able to find her boyfriend. Ruby, in her wolf form, was single-handedly able to track David down in the middle of the night.
David and Mary Margaret introduced Emma the next morning, after their hangovers had lessened, and they had all quickly become fast friends. So much so that when Mary Margaret’s roommate Regina got clearance to live outside the academy, Ruby moved in the next term as her roommate.
“So does anyone understand what Professor Rodham was trying to get across on study guide question number seven?”
Emma jolted, not realizing that she had zoned out staring at her textbook.
“Nope, I am SO lost in that class in general so I have no idea.” Ruby offered from her place at her desk.
Mary Margaret slumped down into the pile of papers on her bed and sighed, “What even is this class? I don’t even know why they require us to take an ethics class.”
“Because it prepares you for ‘normal life’” Emma quipped, not looking up from the textbook that she had started leafing through.
“Yeah, but we are not normal, that’s why we came here! Why do we have to do normal people stuff anyway?!” Ruby whined.
Ruby did have a point. Since Greenwood Academy was one of a select few schools that had a college style campus on the same grounds, many people from around the country transferred into the school if they weren’t given clearance to leave and assimilate into regular society at the end of high school.
“Because you can likely graduate from here and move onto a normal job, Ruby, you weren’t forced to continue college at one of these schools,” Emma commented.
Ruby gave her a withering look. “I know that, but it doesn’t mean that we have to be forced into doing classes that have nothing to do with our major.”
“Regular colleges actually have you do that as well,” David said, deciding to join the group effort of ignoring their ethics assignment.
“You didn’t go to a regular college either, how do you know that?” Mary Margaret asked him.
“My twin is perfectly normal, so he went to a normal college. My mom wrote me once and told me all about it.” David explained. “Apparently they have these things called ‘General Education Requirements’ where you have to take a certain number of courses in other disciplines to graduate with a specific degree.”
“That blows,” Ruby commented, dismissing the explanation with a wave of her hand. “Does anyone want to order pizza?”
“So that is a no to the answer to question seven then, right?” David asked, shuffling the papers around in front of him.
“David, I say this with affection, but none of us care about this class.” Mary Margaret said from the bed, still sprawled out on top of her papers and textbooks.
“No! Emma still has my back, she cares about that class, right?” He said, giving her a look that begged her to agree.
“Sorry David, I have absolutely no concern about a course that I am not going to use for the rest of my life.” Emma said, pulling one of her favorite books out of her bag.
David sighed in defeat, turning to work on his assignment alone.
Ruby spied the book in her hands and let out a noise of exasperation. “Honestly, Emma! Are you ever going to return that book!”
Emma carefully gathered her copy of ‘Where the Sidewalk Ends and Every Thing On It’ by Shel Silverstein to her chest. The binding was slowly falling apart, and a page or two may have been haphazardly shoved back in after they fell out, but the weathered library barcode label was still affixed to the front cover, even though no plastic covering remained.
It was one of her favorite books when she was growing up, her brother read her poems from it every night before bed. And once she was off restriction after first arriving and had finally been fitted with her suppressor bracelets, they allowed her into the library the first time. She had scanned the shelves for hours, looking for something that she hadn’t already read before that she could sit down with and read for a little bit (they were still weary about letting her bring books outside of the library, even though she hadn’t shown any tendency at the time to possibly flare up and accidentally burn a book) and had stumbled upon the copy on the end of a shelf. The size of the book didn’t fit in with any of the other shorter books and it was leaning to hold the other books in place. Pulling it off the shelf and to her chest, she began crying, missing her home and her brother with a ferocity that hurt.
One of the librarians had happened upon her not long after, curled into a ball clutching the already worn book to her chest. The woman looked down upon her kindly and comforted her to the best of her abilities, and asked her if she would like to keep the book. She had nodded, wiping the tears from her face. The woman walked her up to the front counter, wrote down some information about the book and took down Emma’s name and current room location (since Emma didn’t know her case number off the top of her head at the time) and promised her that she wouldn’t have to worry about anything.
And in almost 10 years of having the book, no one had ever come to her requesting the book back.
“Maybe one day,” Emma murmured, “I’m a bit sentimental.” She looked up at Ruby as she set the book into her lap, hoping to change the conversation, “Didn’t you say something about pizza?”
“That’s right!” Ruby exclaimed, leaning back in her desk chair. “Mary Margaret, where did we put the brochure for the on campus pizza place?”
Mary Margaret, who had been ignoring the conversation and reading for a different class, started. The book she was holding above her head fell onto her face and the papers surrounding her on the bed jolted, many cascading to the floor with her ethics textbook.
David instantly moved to start gathering the papers, while Mary Margaret just sighed in defeat from under the book. “Ummm, I think it is in the top right drawer of my desk, but it could also be on the refrigerator.”
Later, after demolishing three pizzas between the 4 of them and completely abandoning the studying for their ethics exam, they were lounging on the futon and floor watching The Bachelorette.
“You know, I still don’t understand why people sign themselves up for these things,” Ruby commented, “I mean, it’s pretty pathetic looking.”
“Well, not all of us are blessed with having a good-looking, future doctor as our boyfriend.” Emma commented from her place on the floor.
“Very true,” Ruby stated, “So, when are you going to start looking for a boyfriend Emma?”
Emma choked on her popcorn for a second. “Excuse me?”
“Yeah. Emma, I have known you for three years, there has to be someone that you have an interest in.” Mary Margaret chimed in. Emma looked pleadingly up at David to try and rescue her from this conversation.
David and Emma had known each other the longest out of any of the friends gathered. While her and Mary Margaret had roomed next to each other for a bit before getting to know one another, David and Emma had literally run into each other while they were heading across campus. Emma was running late for one of her intro science classes and had slammed right into David as he was exiting the science hall. They were fast friends after that. Especially because David, upon sitting down with her for a bit and getting to know her on one of her hard days, began to just step into the role of her older brother.
Emma would forever be grateful that he did that for her.
But he didn’t come through for her now.
“Emma, while I don’t necessarily condone the meddling of my girlfriend and her best friend, they do have a point.”
She sighed, closing her eyes and trying to think. Emma was lucky that she even had this many friends outside of the one or two other high risk students that she had had a conversation with during her years at the academy. Once it became public knowledge that someone was a known high risk student, many people began to avoid them.
“There have been a couple of guys…”
“AND…?” Ruby interrupted.
“They take one look at these,” Emma shook the suppressor bracelet on her left wrist under her friend’s nose, “And the attention tends to turn elsewhere.”
If someone came to the academy with what was already known to be a high risk ability, or had seriously injured or killed someone, they were immediately outfitted with custom suppression gear that nulled their powers while they were on. This prevented the students from posing a risk to themselves or anyone else on the campus.
Ruby’s nose wrinkled, “Have those always smelt like that?”
“Like what?” Emma commented. She’d gotten this pair of suppressors two years ago, after the last set died on her.
“Like death.”
“Well, they didn’t design them to be pleasant,” Emma quipped back.
“Well, not everyone-”
“Yeah, they do,” Emma said, interrupting whatever ‘hope and love speech’ Mary Margaret was about to give her, “And honestly I’m not really looking for anyone anyways. I’m going to head back to my dorm.”
“Emma, you really don’t have to go just yet,” Mary Margaret commented, seeming to try and salvage the situation. Emma just shook her head as she shoved the rest of her books and papers back into her bag, moving ‘Where the Sidewalk Ends’ to another pocket to prevent it from getting further destroyed.
“No, it is really time for me to be heading back,” Emma said, looking at the setting sun peeking out from behind the dispersing rain clouds as she tugged her rain boots back on.
She caught David laying a placating hand on Mary Margaret’s thigh, preventing any further protest from the woman. “Thanks for the company Emma.” David said, giving her a quick wave with his other hand.
Emma reciprocated with a small quirk of her lips as she slung her bag over her shoulder and backed out the door to the room.
Taking the back stairs down the four flights to head back to her dorm on the other side of campus, Emma thought back on the end of the conversation. Sure, Emma really hadn’t invested any time in guys or relationships. But honestly, she thought, why would she? It wasn’t likely that she would ever leave the academy and the communities after she graduated, so why should she invest any kind of time in a relationship with someone who would eventually just leave her? And, considering what happened with her stepfather that caused her to come to the academy in the first place, she really didn’t feel like an actual relationship would ever be in the cards for her.
Emma passed a few students leaving the academic buildings late heading for the dorms on the other side of campus or to their cars. She enjoyed the solitude of a quiet walk across campus at the end of the day.
Feeling a bit like a little kid, she looked down at her booted feet and the puddles scattered about the sidewalk. Letting go, she just started jumping from puddle to puddle on the walk across campus. A small giggle escaped her for a moment just as she slammed into a solid chest, sending them both crashing down onto the damp sidewalk.
Emma closed her eyes and cringed, her head hitting the sidewalk.
“You know, with the way you were laughing there lass, I think you meant to run into me just then.” A distinctly British-sounding voice came from just to her right.
Emma opened her eyes just as a pair of eyes the color of the midday summer sky came into view. One hand grabbed hers, the other arm slipping into her armpit to leaver her up.
“Up we go love,” he said, steadying her a bit as he set her on her feet.
She looked down to see papers strewn about the pavement, many of them now soaking wet. “I am so sorry about that, I wasn’t watching where I was going,” she commented, immediately kneeling down to start picking the papers up, feeling all too clearly his gaze on her. She tucked her hair a bit awkwardly behind her right ear under her hat.
“No need to fret about it love, I have it all on a digital drive anyway,” the stranger commented.
She really should get his name, Emma thought to herself.
“I still feel bad, I got your clothes all wet,” she said.
Her back was a bit damp now that she thought about it, along with the knees of her jeans.
Looking over at him, she noticed he was gathering papers next to her, but not necessarily with the intent of trying to salvage the damp paper. He used his left arm, which she just noticed ended at his wrist, to try and push the paper against the pavement towards his right hand.
“Well, you can make it up to me by giving me your name Love, sound like a fair trade?” He asked, flashing a grin that was all white teeth in her direction.
“Sorry, I don’t give my name to strangers,” she commented back, handing him a stack of sopping wet papers, standing as she did so.
He stood up alongside her, pushing the mass of paper into the crook of his left elbow, extending his right, gloved hand towards her.
“The name’s Killian Jones, at your service.”
Emma extended her right hand to meet his.
“Emma Swan.”
She would be lying if she said her heart didn’t skip a beat when he took her hand and smiled at her.
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Unspoken Words 2
Word Count: 2170
A/N: lol heres the 2nd part to Unspoken words, enjoy! I suggest the song mentioned in here, its one of my favs. Also sorry for not posting as much, things are very crazy atm but im getting back to it. Much love!
MasterList
Jugheads POV-
"Betty?" I said over the phone, hearing my sniffling girlfriend on the other end. "Yeah, I'm here, come outside." She sniffled again and I listened as she told me that she couldn't, her mom locked her inside the house for the night and no one was allowed in nor out.
"So I can't come inside to see you?" I asked, and I listened as she told me I couldn't. My heart sank a little bit, not because I couldn't go in and see her, but because I had just left Y/N heartbroken and crying alone in her house for this.
"Yeah, no I get it. I'll just see you tomorrow." I said, and hung up the phone, throwing it on the seat next to me. I leaned my head on the steering wheel and sighed, I was truly and idiot today. I kicked myself, closing my eyes trying to stop myself from crying, but behind my shut eyes images of Y/N played like a movie. Her smiling, the way her eyes light up anytime she tells an awful pun and everyone groans, the sound of her laugh when she shoots sarcastic comments my way.
I replayed memories of our time at Pops, late nights in the quiet diner, the only sounds that are audible are of the neon lights buzz, Pops whistling from back into the kitchen, and the tapping of keys and scratches of lead on paper. While I wrote she drew, or also wrote, but she preferred the look of her scribbled words on paper, the smears of black on her hands as evidence of a nights work. A tattered notebook with crumbled pages, a worn and old look, inside the ins and outs of her mind were translated into pictures and poems, proof that there was a beautiful mind behind her beautiful eyes. She thought the digital route to her genius felt cheap, she liked the messy, tangible work that she could carry around with her, and I always admired her for it.
Memories of the Twilight-Drive In came next, sitting next to her out in the cold air. We'd sit in the back of my dads truck, blankets and pillows sprawled across the bed of the truck, popcorn and candy pieces littered throughout from our many mini food fights we'd randomly break out in. If it was especially cold, she'd sit closer to me, leaning her head on my shoulder and I'd pull one of the many blankets over her. This was when she was most peaceful, sometimes I would purposely tune out the movie and try my best to listen in on her slow and quiet breaths, finding comfort in the serenity of it. I'd look down at her, admiring how her soft features would glow in the dim light of the movie projection and the night sky. She really was beautiful, and I'm sure that these were the nights where it really stood out to me.
Not only was she beautiful physically, but mentally as well. She had been through so much, endured so much bullshit yet she still had a soft and warm personality that would draw people in. She was energetic, magnetic, electric. Every word she spoke you could hear the emotion behind it, even if it was a useless sentence that had no meaning at all. She was a human piece of art really, she was all of the art in the world placed into a breathing, living person. Poetic and colourful, abstract but simple, she is everything that I felt was beautiful in the world.
Then came the heartbreak, the memory I wanted so badly to forget about, to ignore, but it was now stuck in my brain. I led her on, didn't I? And not only that, but I left her crying and alone after. The tears started to fall, and I couldn't help but feel the burn of self hatred rise up from my stomach to my chest. She was broken, on the floor with tears falling from her beautiful (y/e/c) eyes, and it was all my fault because I decided to do something stupid. I decided to almost let my true feelings slip, I should have told her, I should have stayed.
Y/N is a smart girl, she knows how to put pieces together, and she's quite good with words and if she knows a person well enough, like she knows me, she can guess what is about to come out of their mouth. She knew what I was going to say, I could see the gleam in her eye, the one that time and time again tells me that she feels the same. I brought her up and I let her crash... I am the worst person ever. It would take a miracle for her to forgive me, hell it would take a miracle for me to forgive myself.
I straightened up and wiped the tears off my face, crying about Y/N in front of Bettys house felt wrong in some sort of sense. Thinking these thoughts about Y/N in front of Bettys house felt wrong, I just need to get away from Betty. I started up my car and ran my hand through my beanie-less hair, pulling away from the familiar home, looking back slightly to see another lone illuminated window, Bettys. And just like with Y/N, I drove away. I was gone.
Your POV-
"You look cute with that hat on." Jughead said, smiling towards me. I looked up from my notebook and blushed, rolling my eyes and smiling.
"Not as cute as you." I say, tapping my pencil on the paper. Jughead chuckles, shaking his head.
"And that's where your wrong, princess." My chest warms up at the use of his nickname for me. At one point it was used to tease me, a nickname given to me by my best friend who said I acted like a princess most of the time. Now that we are together though, its turned into something more, I'm not just any princess, I'm his, and he is my prince, and I wear his crown to show that I'm his and he is mine.
"Last time I checked, I'm never wrong, thank you though." I snap back sarcastically, beaming at him as he closes his laptop half way and looks admiringly my way.
"I wouldn't be so sure about that, weren't you wrong today?" he asks, and I fake surprise.
"Was I? I don't recall."
"Yes, I'm pretty sure you were. We were listening to music in the car ride home from school and I was listening to 'Atlanta' and you tried to guess who it was by." he says, and I sink a little in my seat, trying my best to keep up my poker face.
"None of this is ringing a bell, Beanie. I think it was just all in your imagination." I reply, shrugging and leaning back in my seat.
"No, I still don't think so. You know the song Atlanta right, who is it by then?" he asks, smirking my way and I stutter, trying my best to think of the artist he had told me earlier.
"Well, I-uh... twenty one pilots?" I guessed, and he threw his head back in laughter.
"No, Stone Temple Pilots. Close though, but not really." he says once his laughter dies down a bit, and I roll my eyes.
"Whatever, same difference." I shoot back, and he shakes his head.
"Not even close." he says, and I shrug.
"I'll get it at some point." I say confidently, and he nods.
"I'm sure you will." he opens his laptop all the way again and starts to type, and I watch as his eyes dance across the screen and listen to the sound of keys being hit. He looks so happy, you can see it in his eyes that this is when he is most peaceful. Sometimes I stare at him, watching as he types away on his laptop, and I swear I can see the gears turning behind his loving eyes. I admire how the neon lights of the diner illuminates his face, creating an orange-y red glow that accentuates the features of his face. Sometimes I swear this is where I notice how handsome he really is, right here in this booth when he's happy and content and busy.
I look down at my notebook, the words and doodles scribbled across the page, the smear marks of the lead being dragged across the page from my hand. I love it when a new, untouched white page in my notebook becomes a light grey, decorated with my thoughts. I stare at tonights masterpiece, just some random writing about Jughead that I had thought up of, and a doodle of a beanie that looks like a crown. As I look up from my notebook, I see he is looking at me.
"Is there something on my face?" I asked, and he shakes his head.
"No, nothing out of the normal. Just the usual cuteness." he says, and I laugh.
"The cheese is strong with you, isn't it?" I asked, and he laughs as well.
"Hey, maybe I like being cliché, did you ever think of that?" he asks, closing his laptop and placing it in his bag.
"Yes, I have. Its not a hard thing to pick up on, especially since you do it so often." I reply, closing my notebook and placing it in my small backpack I use instead of a purse. I slide out of the booth seat and stand up, stretching slightly as Jughead stands up as well. I start to make my way to the door until a hand grabs my wrist and turns me around, facing Jughead. He smiles down at me and I smile up at him.
"Have I ever told you how happy I am that I finally fixed my mistake?" he asks, which is an odd question, but those are never few and far between with Juggie.
"What mistake?" I asked quietly, and he shrugs slightly.
"I had bad judgement, I made a haste decision that ended up being the wrong one, and fixing it was probably the best thing that has ever happened to me." he tried to explain, yet he was still being so vague.
"What was your wrong decision?" I asked, and he opened his mouth to say something, but a banging noise drowned whatever he said out.
"Now do you understand?" he questioned, and I shook my head.
"No, I didn't catch what you said, the noise was too loud." I explained, and he looked down at me confused.
"What noise?" he asked.
"The loud banging noise." I said, shocked he hadn't heard it too.
"I think you're lo-" there it goes again, the noise. I can't hear the second part of his sentence, and now i'm even more confused than before.
"Did you hear it just then?" I asked, sure he had to have heard it.
"No, are you feeling okay?" he asks me, and I take a seat back in the booth, I feel a little dizzy.
"No, not really, I think I just need to-"
"Wake up?" he suggests, and I look at him confused.
"Wake up?" I asked, and he nods his head.
"You should probably wake up, go see what the noise was." he says, and I shake my head.
"But I'm not asle-" the noise is louder this time, more urgent sounding, like someone is banging on a door.
"Are you going to get that?" Jughead asks, and I shake my head.
"Get what?" I ask, and he opens his mouth to respond, but before he can I cut him off. "You know what, it doesn't matter, just tell me what your wrong decision was." I say, and he shrugs.
"I think you need to wake up." he says, sitting in the seat of the booth across from me.
"But-"
"I can't tell you what you want to know. But I'm sure whatever is making that noise can." he says, and I shake my head.
"The only one who can tell me left. He ran out, back to the one who he belongs with." I say, and Jughead shrugs.
"Have a little faith, you still have faith in him right?" he asks, and I slowly nod.
"I have no choice but to. When you're in love with someone, faith in them kind of comes naturally." I say, feeling quite tired. I yawn, and the diner starts to get blurry, and darker. I blink and things around me are now completely dark, and I'm laying down. I sit up slowly, raising my hand to my head and I feel the beanie on me. It was a dream. Of course it was a dream.
Knock! Knock!
Who the hell is here right now? I look at my phone and see its 1:27am, its a little early for visitors, who in their right mind wants to talk to me now?
Tag list: @do-not-call-me-sunshine @gelattoes @gelattoes@xbobaaa@katshrev@farmfreshcoldsprouts @sgarrett49 @always-chocolate@nadya0128@vegaslodgeprimary@rainbows-and-glitter-bitch@lost-in-wonderland-x @lost-in-wonderland-x@mrs-jughead-jones@nafa1604@moonlight53 @mydelightfulcollectiontyphoon@bookloveaffair @bookloveaffair@reallyshortartist @adellyhatter-blog @savvythetommo@caffeinatedfangirlstuff@riverdalemami@kenken12201 @jaib2-blog @montse-marquez-almarcha@fandom-quote@jishwadunwityou @sleeplessvoids @i-chose-the-fandom-life @jaib2-blog
Unspoken Words Tags:
@kelly27crickett
#jughead jones#jughead x reader#jughead jones x reader#jughead x betty#cw riverdale#jughead angst#jughead fluff#jughead fanfiction#fanfiction#missjugheadjones
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#personal
It can be a nightmare after all these years to be too transparent for public record. I imagine it would be something like a poltergeist; always bumping into things and being misinterpreted or read into. The age old posit of “Shit Happens” doesn’t leave much room for argument or even proof of life Nobody ever seems to hear my side of things other than when I write about it here. Nobody registers the endless frustration because I hide it all so well. I changed a lot of my routines in the last two weeks specifically. A year ago I started getting harassed at the gym so I changed my schedule there to an early one. Eventually I quit the gym altogether. These days I don’t even own a gym membership. The Nike Training App core routines and some barbells have delivered far more than the stress I had leaving the house. I think I’ve learned over time that Yoga and Pilates in the back bedroom teaches you more about form and control. I use a mirror to monitor my posture. I don’t feel any prying eyes on me behind closed doors. For years everybody knows I’ve been my own coach and source of motivation. The source of inspiration is a given and that’s always been fiercely personal to me. The fact that it should be so obvious is something I’ve learned to enjoy because it is to me. But nobody particularly knows or cares what goes on in my personal life other than here where I write. They forget about the weeks and the work therein. So I probably resemble a ghost clanking with chains in the hallways. There’s no causality because nobody pays enough attention to accept I exist. I’m stuck in a limbo between the known and unknown. There’s some attention I avoid. I avoid heavy doses of it every day because I know better. It’s sticks out like a sore thumb socially and I’ve had to practice a sort of poker face. People often have a habit of expressing their distaste that I think for myself. I changed my train route to work. I still bump into awkward invisible walls. People trying to hijack my narrative in public. People afraid of ghosts I guess. Some cultures leave offerings for the dead. Others try to exorcise and eradicate them. Some people throw dust to the wind and some people keep their loved ones in a jar above the fireplace. I’m still alive clawing at the fabric of society and not so much reality. Society is fake this we all know. More obsessed with post truth and fake news than statistical based science. I used to have more dread towards my situation. That I would be completely forgotten and misunderstood for the rest of my life. Obviously people following me around on my commute regardless of my route disproves that fate. People treat me like Frankenstein sometimes. Pitchforks, torches and all. Every other week I’m on trial for a different section of my being. I’m a patchwork of things I’ve picked up from art school year after year. And year after year there’s something else that claims it’s cooler, fresher, and more alive. A good excuse to keep me buried. To keep the heresy out of plain sight. And then there’s me banging away at the keyboard early in the morning on the internet like a spirit in the tv static. People free to read into the message however they please. Most people just surf right through me. The noise is still out there every Saturday pulsing like a brain in a petri dish. The horror.
I read this article about how they were growing brain tissue in a lab. There was this rhythmic pulse of electricity that they couldn’t explain. The ethics of testing on conscious living material are dicey at best. So are half the relational aesthetics driven social experiments done in the name of justice and revolution. What is right and normal is a lengthy discussion. But it requires dialog. Sometimes I feel like that brain in a dish trying to give a signal but nobody wants to acknowledge. No one wants the inconvenience of reading how I really feel. My routine the last year has been fairly measured and predictable. Yet people still feel the need to watch and make sure. It’s been a bit of an insult to come full circle a year later and know full well I told you so. And some of that sting from my own pride is softened by the fact that I broke free from the petri dish a long time ago. Patch worked my own identity in the face of valid harsh criticism. I am who I am and I accept pretty much everyone at face value. I have saved so much face this year that I’ve become more weary of public and how much it takes to put on the act and show. For all the revolutionary movements I’ve supported and all the calls to action I’ve heeded nothing much has changed for me. In America there is this endless cycle of outrage. Right versus left. Good versus evil. Black versus white. And it spirals into a fractal of endless opinions and vitriol. Nothing gets defined. Compromise is completely nonexistent. Closure is a luxury most cannot afford. You can’t have closure without getting yourself wrapped up in a bigger drama which limits and belittles the argument in favor of populism or worse. The tribe of public opinion has spoken. You have been voted off the Deleuzian Island you were shipwrecked on. A reality exposition in front of camera phones and a conscripted army of influencers. America has moved from clique to tribe. Everything is a little more Mad Max than it used to be. On the weekends I still stare out my kitchen window early in the morning. People have so many hidden expectations for me now it exhausts me just thinking about it. It is pure mental anguish to read into all the projections and there’s no real payoff. What statement shirt will I see today. What hidden message or Easter Egg do I have to squint my eyes at to prove I’m fully woke. It’s what is expected of me to be left alone I guess. Yes I’m ok. Yes I have a job. Yes I keep myself busy. Yes I keep myself out of trouble. Yes everything outside of my apartment these days seems to be causing me more trouble than it’s worth. Yes I’m very sad on the inside. And yes none of that really matters because when I shut the door and think about the people I care about it’s all worth it. Because I’m not some experiment in a dish that demands some qualitative proof of my usefulness to science, life and America. I’m my own science project. A mixture of phantom, shade and shambling mound. I figured out a way to hide the scar tissue in broad daylight and let the sun fill the hollows in my face. I’m the most handsome Frankenstein to walk the Earth. Maybe more of the Hulk for good measure. Aren’t they pretty much the same thing anyway?
Universal Studios actually owns the film rights to Frankenstein down to the makeup. The only Frankenstein movie to ever make it to Japan was because of a guy from Chicago selling the rights to Toho. He’s also the guy that could have boosted Lenny Bruce’s career. He instead launched Woody Allen’s rise to stardom. A parable lies within all of this. Maybe why we’ll never see a decent standalone Hulk movie inside the MCU. Maybe I’ll just read the comics instead and let it play out in my own head. There’s a lot of bullshit that I don’t ever want to be part of. A lot of soul sucking corporate tactics that don’t honor the actual art form. And there’s the reality that money, jobs, and careers make the world go round. I work at a non profit. I make a non profit salary. I’ve lived being made to feel like I’m inferior to money. I’ve learned how to budget myself a return to New York every two months. Someone at work asked if I had any gigs there. I said I quit music because it was threatening my safety. In truth the last year was really about setting up a perimeter in my life. A place that was safe enough and anonymous to share some intimacy with another person. Music didn’t serve that for me anymore. It hindered my goals. How I’ve gone about building fences around my garden has been akin to that scene in Frankenstein negotiating with the villagers. Except in a no holds barred me alone against the court of public opinion sort of way. Modern day Hulk has evolved into a sort of cultured retaliation against the mobs. He’s still too similar to the mad scientist story to make poetic cinema out of it all. Me I live this shit every day. Hulk in Hell. Abused in some ways and blessed in others. People don’t like it when I’m angry. I guess as they say that’s the trick. I’m angry all the time. It’s how I act upon it. How I sacrifice my incomprehensible rage and tortured feelings out of love. For me I spent the whole last year doing something about it. Challenging the infrastructure of all this bullshit and leading by example. Too much force and you break things. Too little and they walk all over you. Lenny Bruce had the entire police department after him for saying what he felt. Woody Allen succeeded in Hollywood. How you view the hypocrisy of all that is all in what you accept and what you resist. Resistance isn’t fun. And it looks different for everyone. The most political battle to fight is the personal one. The right to be and the right to think. What is the real different between Frankenstein and the Human Ken Doll anyway? Who owns the rights to me being me? What gives me the right to have an opinion? Who I can talk to and who I can love? What I need to become to be treated as an equal in the public eye? What people have done to stop me from becoming who I really am? Why do I even care about having a popularly accepted opinion when no one listens? Who has room for drama in their life when I only make space for all the love I have for you? Of all the pieces of my life that I stitched together you are the most important one to me. Because you are the piece that makes me whole just by being you. It’s not a missing link it’s been an important foundation to my struggle. If I keep bumping into you in the dark just remember it’s a love tap. I don’t mind if you tap back. Only you though. Fuck all this other shit. <3 Tim
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The Senators Son
So, as our dear Laurens died yesterday, and I have a backlog of unedited fics sitting in my Docs, I figured giving him a little love (or rather, emotional trauma) would be a good idea. Enjoy protective mama bear Hercules!
Alexander was pissed off. While that in itself was fairly normal, what wasn’t normal was every other queer kid in the school getting pissed off too. Still, Herc guessed it was only natural considering what one particularly… conservative senator had said on national TV last night. Enthusiastic support for that bathroom bill was one thing, nobody really expected anything else, but almost directly attacking a student at their school? Those kind of words stuck with a person, and not in a good way. Herc knew that Laf had to be feeling it the worst of all, seeing as the Senator’s words had been directed at them. Senator Henry Laurens had always been a rather reviled figure in the Washington house, but last night had tipped things over the edge.
Laf, who Herc hadn’t expected to see in school that day, continued to surprise him by not only being there, but also appearing to to not be affected in the slightest. Alexander, on the other hand, seemed to be angry enough for the both of them. Another person who Herc hadn’t expected to see, though not for the same reason as everyone else, was the Senator’s son. For the past week, Herc had noticed his fellow sophomore get even quieter, spending the last class of the day, Biology, which Herc shared with him and was a class he generally looked like he was enjoying, in a state of dazed dread. The previous day had been the worse yet, as he looked like he was on the verge of crying for the last half an hour.
And now this. Alexander was pissed off, Lafayette was pretending to be fine, and John Laurens was wisely keeping his head down, avoiding the dirty looks being thrown at him. Herc found himself wishing that he could help, but keeping Laf close to him while listening to Alexander rant was all he could do. He promised himself that he keep as close an eye on John as he could. Maybe in Biology he could ask if he was okay, but until then he would have to put the matter out of his mind.
No-one wanted to antagonise John outright, fearing his father’s influence. Politicians children knew the game they were born to play all their lives, and knew it well. Always be polite to others parents, lest their own parents be attacked for the slight; never attack other politicians children, for the same reason; and keep all real, true opinions to themselves unless those opinions were the norm. Alexander Hamilton was not a politician's child, and therefore had nothing to lose. It happened too quickly for Hercules to put a stop to. One moment, Alexander was by his side, and the next…
“I bet you’re happy.”
For a second, Herc thought Alexander was talking to him, but then he saw John Laurens on the other side of the hall, most likely thinking the exact same thing as Herc in that moment.
Oh shit.
Herc saw the mask go up, saw John’s spine straighten, his expression turn blank. He saw the rabbit-in-the-headlights fear get covered up in seconds.
“You think I don’t see the looks you give Laf?” Alexander snarled, anger rolling off him in waves. So he had noticed John looking in their direction, but not the expression on his face as he did so. Herc was now sure that he was the only one who saw the longing, the regret. The longing for what? Herc didn’t know.
John didn’t respond in the millisecond Alexander paused for, which only incensed him further.
“I bet you told your father all about them, didn’t you? Couldn’t stand to be in the same school as them, could you?”
John’s mask was slipping as he leaned away from Alexander. A quick glance at Laf showed that they were torn. Perhaps they remembered that John had never actually said anything against anyone. Herc had to do something, but stopping Alexander would likely make the freshman turn on him, and he needed Alexander’s trust to keep the kid out of trouble. There was only one way he could spin this, and it pained him to do it, but it had to be done.
“Alexander!” He strode across the hall, gently catching his friend’s arm and pulling him away. “Let it go, he’s not worth it.”
Herc was sure that he was the only one who saw John’s aborted flinch.
“I’m not done with him, Hercules!” Alexander protested, despite the fact that he was being physically dragged away.
“Yes you are.”
“It’s his fault his father said all that shit about Laf!” Alexander struggled to pull away, but Herc held him tight. Only when they were outside, on the front steps of the school, did he let go.
“You don’t know that.” Herc reminded his angry friend, attempting to be the voice of reason. The door banged open, and Laf practically flew down the steps, engulfing Alexander in a hug. Herc sighed internally, Laf was bound to end up encouraging Alexander to yell at more people, no matter what they said.
“Alexander, please don’t fight people, S'il vous plaît!” They begged. “You could get hurt one of these days, and what would I do without you here, hmm?”
“I’ll fight anyone for you, Laf.” Alexander replied, holding Laf close.
And that was that. Alexander would not be budged from his opinion, and he glared at Herc for the rest of the day. John Laurens was nowhere to be seen. That is, until several hours later, when Herc had thought he was the only one left in the building who wasn’t a teacher.. He had a habit of staying behind after school to work on his projects, taking over either the art room or one of the Home Ec rooms. There was usually a teacher or two staying late who liked him, and more importantly, trusted him not to break anything.
Herc had gotten the feeling that Laf and Alexander needed some alone time; maybe Laf could convince their foster brother (and guard dog) to lay off of John, and Lord knew Herc needed some alone time. Speaking of John… Herc would recognise the fluffy ponytail that came into view as he rounded a corner anywhere, after spending the past week looking for it at every opportunity.
John was slumped on the floor, leaning heavily against a locker, his eyes closed. Herc almost didn’t want to disturb him (the poor guy looked exhausted), but this was his chance to talk to him with no chance of Alexander coming across them.
“Hey, you okay?” He asked.
John’s head shot up, his mask slamming into place.
“Fine. Why do you wanna know?”
Herc shrugged, approaching carefully. “Just noticed you weren’t looking so good. Alexander is… He can be pretty mean when someone he likes is threatened.”
“I’d noticed.” John muttered. His head fell back and hit the locker with a clang.
“Mind if I sit?” Herc asked, fully prepared to leave and try again another day if John wanted him gone. Pushing the kid’s boundaries too much would just make him pull away, but John’s expression made him hopeful. It was wary, yes, and more than a little bit confused, but not scared.
“Sure, I guess.” John apathetically shrugged one shoulder. “If you want.”
Herc made sure to look as nonthreatening as possible as he sat on the floor, about half a locker away from John, who was staring at the ceiling now.
“I’m sorry about Alexander. He’s really protective of Lafayette.”
“Good.” John said quietly. “They need someone to be protective of them.”
Herc noted the correct pronouns, tucking the information away in some corner of his mind. He was pretty sure John didn’t think he had noticed the distinction he had drawn, or maybe he hadn’t even realised that he’d drawn it. That it was good for Laf to have Alexander, not that Herc’s apology was the good thing. Normally, Herc got more than this to work with. Laf wasn’t the type to keep secrets. As for Alexander, Herc was generally able to gain something from his streams of bullshit. John, conversely, didn’t say anything past what he absolutely had to, which wasn’t anything like what Herc was used to. Silence reigned for a full minute while Herc’s ass got colder and colder, until John, still staring at the ceiling like it was the most interesting thing he had ever seen, spoke.
“I don’t control what my father says.”
Herc nodded.
“I never thought you did.”
“Alexander does.” John’s voice was strained.
Herc laughed quietly, nodding ruefully.
“He does, but only because logical thinking isn’t his strong point when it comes to people he cares about. Laf means a lot to him, he doesn’t want them to get hurt.”
John finally tore his eyes away from the ceiling, drawing his legs up to his chest. He picked at a scab on the back of his hand, then glanced over at Herc, who looked steadily back.
“He hates me.” John said, resigned.
“He doesn’t.”
“He does.” John shook his head. “Most people do. Maybe I deserve it.”
“Well,” Herc mused. “Do you believe what your dad believes?”
There was a long silence, and Herc’s stomach sank even as he promised himself to still care about John, because the kid was miserable, and there was no way he was as bad as his father.
“I have to.” John mumbled eventually.
Reluctant belief, Herc could work with.
“How come?”
John sent him a look that could have killed. “You’re really asking me that?”
“Fair enough.” Herc shifted, the cold tile floor hurting his ass. “For the record, I don’t hate you.”
John snorted bitterly. “You’re the only one.”
“I bet I’m not. And even if I was,” Herc continued, cutting John off even as he opened his mouth. “It’s only ‘cause they don’t know you.”
“And you do?” John shot back, all venom and insurmountable defenses.
“I’d like to.” Herc shrugged.
“For real? Or do you just wanna give Alexander something else to use against me?”
“Now why would I do that?”
“Because you’re his friend?”
“Yeah, and I also know that he’s a little shit. You know what else I know?”
“What?” The word was a challenge, a dare, a frightened animal preparing to lash out as John tensed up.
“I know that you knew what your dad was gonna say. And I know that you didn’t want him to say it.” Herc dug his phone out of his pocket, opening up his contacts and bringing up his number, then handed it to John. “Here’s my number. Call me if you want, or I’m here most evenings if you don’t wanna do that.”
It took John a second to take the phone, while Herc tried to look as nonthreatening as he knew how. He watched as the other sophomore hesitantly reached out, deliberated for a second, and took the phone. John’s fingers were shaking slightly as he put Herc’s number in his phone, and as he handed Herc’s phone back to him, he froze, dropping it into Herc’s palm and standing abruptly.
“I gotta go.” He muttered, spinning around and almost running down the hall and around the corner, out of sight, leaving Hercules to stare after him and hope that he would call.
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