#show this to someone with zero context challenge go

[dduane]

Dear DD, I'm wondering if you could show examples (from your own work or otherwise) of what really, *really* rough drafts of fiction writing look like. I'm talking the earliest stages of the process that normally most people don't show to the public; whenever I look around online, what folks seem to post as "WIP" samples are usually more like 80-90% polished excerpts.

While my brain logically knows these are the late-stage stuff, it has an ill-advised habit of trying to draft to that 80-90 level of quality from the get-go--I think it might help to see what the equivalent of "thumbnails" or "sketches/doodles" look like in writing, especially from someone who's been At The Work for a long time. Hopefully it's an alright request! I understand if for various reasons you can't.

I'm more than willing to show people my stuff in process, every now and then. ...But in my case, your initial query poses an unusual challenge. And it's this:

After pushing fifty years of doing this work (or indeed, you had it right, this Work) for money, everything comes out looking fairly polished.

And this can't be helped. Once you've been doing this work for long enough—once doing it well starts being the thing responsible for keeping you and your family fed—you will inevitably (eventually) evolve the ability to exude smooth-looking prose at minutes' notice. Over the years your internal prose filters will get trained into being increasingly fine-meshed... and the longer this goes on, the more flatly they'll refuse to let clunky stuff out onto the page any more. You don't really even think about it. You just keep refining a given phrase/sentence/paragraph in your head until it feels acceptable.

After a couple/few decades, this ability becomes an ever more finely-honed survival characteristic. You can no sooner emit actively coarse prose (without trying purposefully to do so, which is another story...) than you can stop breathing for minutes at a time without suffering the consequences. (shrug) It's just the way your life experience has taught your Drafting Brain to conduct itself, going forward.

Now... this doesn't mean at all that the drafted material, be it ever so polished-looking, is necessarily what you intended (or needed!) to write. Oh no. I could this very day show you some prose that by my standards is still really rough, because I wrote it five minutes ago... and you'd look at it and be very unlikely to be able to see what my problem was with it.* Whereas I'm sitting staring at it and muttering "Dammit, something's missing here. No idea what. I'll come back to it tomorrow."

And indeed I wrote something about three hours ago that (as I got it onto the page in its earliest form) left me literally gasping about how obtuse I'd been about the situation and emotions described in it, as recently as early this afternoon before I had lunch. It was a scene that had been missing from something I'm completing at the moment—indeed not merely missing but completely uncontemplated—and as it spooled itself out on the page all I could do was shake my head at my own idiocy at having missed the opportunity earlier, while I was nailing down the plot.

And I would love to show you that piece of prose right this minute, so that you could see what minutes-old prose from me looks like. Except it's seriously spoilery, and I refuse to sabotage a larger work by allowing out any material that's so loaded... and which viewed out of context would deprive it of most of its power. So, as we say around here, 'Sorry not sorry.'" Though I promise I'll come back to this and talk about it "in the clear" later, when that work's published.

...Anyway. The best advice I have for you just now is that trying to make your filters-in-training less effective is—to put it as gently as Captain Amelia might—a mistake.

That urge to have the first draft—or the "zero draft" as some are calling it these days: I use this myself—be as good as possible is frankly a lifesaver. Indulging it, sentence by sentence and paragraph by paragraph, will only leave you with less frustration, less editing and re-editing, and way less Flat Forehead Syndrome over time. You are going in the right direction, even if it makes you feel like you're losing valuable time.

Your brain's attempts to draft to the highest possible level are not ill-advised. Indulge the urge to get your drafting more right, even if it makes you suffer a bit. No one ever said this writing lark was going to be all fun. (And if they did, they lied to you.) Also: hunting through other people's WIP excerpts, be they rougher than yours or more polished, in a search for something that your excerpts or drafting style should or could theoretically look like, will do you no good in the long term... and may do you harm. All you're likely to be left with, after you haven't found anything useful in the wake of the shoulder-peering, is a sense—almost certainly an inaccurate one—that you're somehow doing it wrong.**

You're not. You're finding your own way, at your own speed. This is the Writer's Journey. (As opposed to the Hero's, which I have characters shouting at me about at the moment.) (eyeroll) As you continue going your own way, your drafting will gradually pick up speed without losing quality. ...And don't neglect your outside reading. You need to be reading outside your own genre and your own century to pick up, as it were, new (or old) plugins for your filters.

Anyway. If (as it seems) you're in this for the long term: get right down here with the rest of us and suffer your way (briefly) through it. We all agonize unnecessarily over the effectiveness of our process from time to time. The only cure is to say "fuck that noise" to the back of your Writer's Mind, and get back to the actual writing, where these problems are worked out in the only way that counts.

So: go do your thing, and let the chips fall where they may. And I hope this has helped! Let me know, over time, how things go.

*This situation is also, BTW, a bit of a problem for a writer in a career stage like mine. In an inversion of the usual rule—where "the Perfect becomes the enemy of the (Merely) Good"—the "Really Not Bad At All" becomes the enemy of the "Could Have Been Way Better If You'd Given It A 'Should I Maybe Sweat Over This A Little More?' Pass". Because the Not Bad At All genuinely isn't... but if you're not careful, you stop seeing where to kick it into the next stage when you're distracted by all the other junk going on in life.

**...But this is one of the downsides of the community, and communality, of the writing life online. We wind up endlessly looking over each others' shoulders to try to find answers that—in many cases—were already sitting between us and the screen, on the keyboard.

(And now a suggestion for those who find these occasional excursions into the Advice Barrel useful: at various folks' request, I have a Ko-Fi now. If you find the advice useful and you feel so inclined, send me a sign.) :)

[cosmic-chronologer]

i may have made this gothic dnd-adjacent setting and decided to turn it into a fun sona challenge~

I put the full context for the au under readmore for whoever’s interested!

{+COVENANT+}

(more might get added later if it becomes more of a thing)

+SETTING+

Post-POST apocalyptic gothic castle towns. The world was burned asunder centuries ago, leaving the remnants of humanity to rebuild society anew amongst the desolation.

Not long after the initial restoration of society, beings known as Emissaries showed up demanding that humanity bend to their will as they reshape the earth. Many who outright refused were damned to become monsters. Others fled for self preservation and became known as Heretics. Some did as the Emissaries asked and joined their ranks as Acolytes.

+FACTIONS+

Heretics: survivors of an unforgiving world, refuse to follow the Emissaries

Acolytes: servants of Emissaries, slayers of the damned and heretics alike

+HERETIC CLASSES+

HUNTER-

Hellion: hunt with ferver, gain the strength of monsters by devouring them

Assassin: hunt quickly and stealthily, have the shadows bend to you

Marauder: hunt with good fortune, unnatural luck is on your side

WITCH-

Haruspex: make blood sacrifices to cast spells, yours or others

Seer: able to see beyond the natural, unlock secrets and commune with spirits

Necromancer: summon and control unholy creatures

ALCHEMIST-

Apothecary: heal the sick and injured, poison your enemies

Enchanter: place enchantments on items, place hexes on your enemies

Architect: mend or create objects, exchange materials for what you seek to build

+ACOLYTE CLASSES+

Knight: put down the wicked with holy weapons

Cleric: heal and protect the wounded with your words

Prophet: receive answers and blessings directly from emissaries

Exorcist: banish evil spirits or trap the wicked with holy runes

+LOCATIONS+

Paragon: a fortified castle base for the Acolytes located in Altaire

Altaire: the largest city, overrun with Acolytes

Lazuli: a city now in ruins, ground zero for the arrival of the Emissaries, overrun with cursed monsters

Eris: castle town overflowing with secret passageways, semi safe haven for Heretics

+ENEMIES+

The Damned: monsters cursed by the emissaries for their “sins”, they are no longer human and will usually attack on sight

Emmisaries: wrathful angelic creatures from above, creators of calamities upon the human world

Acolytes: humans that align themselves with the Emissaries, often travel or fight in groups

Covenant Sona Challenge!

you can make your sona a Heretic, Acolyte, or even an Emissary if you’re feeling quirky~ go nuts basically! originally this was just going to be for Heretics, but I figured someone might wanna join the otherside for funsies, so I added a few classes for Acolytes

who knows, maybe if we get enough people in each faction we can even have an all out war

[wlwanakin]

all your fics sound so fun!! but i am going with obi-wan microaggressions or, if that's already taken, no, sferatu

@cheesenames

for the wip ask game i posted at the beginning of the month lmaoooo. i’ve been swamped with work and planning my upcoming vacation and you asked about the two that i have written the least of!! like genuinely these files are so empty and illegible and i was planning on carving out a day to work on them and then answer my asks with what i added but i have had ZERO time and therefore a) wrote a lot less than i would’ve liked and b) am only answering right now instead of three weeks ago

i feel like i’ll disappoint not having huge chunks to share like with the other au lmao but they’re both fun so i will share anyway (and i’m still breaking the rules bc these are not a sentence they are Paragraphs). also anakin is a trans woman in both of them #predictable and it’s an essential aspect of the microaggressions one and completely trivial and serves only to alienate my audience in the nosferatu one. anyway here’s the rundown for both:

obi-wan microaggressions is a fic entirely inspired by twitter convos i had with @lesbiananidalas about how obi-wan would respond sooo badly to anakin coming out as trans not out of bigotry or malice but because he is chronically incapable of understanding anakin or challenging his own perception of things. so the basic premise is that it’s a post-rots happy au where anakin leaves the order to fuck off to naboo with padmé and the twins and blah blah and this leads to a falling out with obi-wan and then they don’t talk for a few years. and then by circumstances i haven’t decided yet he re-enters anakin’s life only to be completely blindsided by anakin having transitioned in the years they were not speaking (so blindsided that he straight up doesn’t notice until a few days later and just assumes anakin is like, unusually well-rested and haircut averse and that is why she looks so radiant and womanly these days). and he puts his foot in his mouth about that repeatedly, naturally. but it’s a lot less about gender and a lot more about growing apart from someone you thought you knew and realizing that you did not know them all that well. here is a kinda whatever paragraph:

She hasn’t changed all that dramatically, in many ways not at all. She smiles more, and wider, and she seems taller even though Padmé says she’s shrunk half an inch. The bags under her eyes are the lightest they’ve been since she was a child. She’s the exact opposite of what Obi-Wan imagined an Anakin outside the order to be; he’s still waiting for the cracks to show through.

no, sferatu is literally just my nosferatu au that i have discussed on here exclusively through tags. calling it a nosferatu au isn’t entirely accurate bc it’s also inspired by dracula (the novel) and i’m not sticking to either version of the story strictly at all but it is an idea sparked mostly by 2024 nosferatu because of ellen’s connection to the supernatural and all the grooming-esque stuff going on and blah blah you get the gist. i just wanted to do a very classical vampire thing with gothic heroine anakin and her and padmé having an idyllic little (boston) marriage that’s threatened by this looming monstrous figure cuz that’s just revenge of the sith.

this one is very much in the “jotting stuff down non-chronologically to remind myself i had the idea and edit it later” stage and not really in the style i want the final product to be in at all. there’s no real context for this, i just had a visual of anakin and padmé lying in bed together in what i imagine is the beginning of the third act?:

She sleeps with her hand on Padmé’s chest, palm pressed flat so she can feel her heartbeat. She needs the assurance that it’s still there, that it hasn’t been stolen away in the dead of night. Her mind wanders back to the depths of the black sea it always returns to, back to Sidious, to his gnarled, lifeless hand on her shoulder and time-worn voice scraping her ears. She wonders if his pulse can be felt under his cold, waxen skin; she doubts he has one at all.

idk this would be after padmé returns from her jonathan harker/thomas hutter esque business trip (that i have yet to decide the circumstances of) half-dead and in my mind there’s also like an equivalent to that scene in the herzog movie where dracula visits lucy one night that happens between anakin and sidious except it’s more manipulative so it’s more like the eggers scene between ellen and orlok? but i’m not doing the three nights thing and it’s not as sensual as the eggers scene. i don’t know. i haven’t even decided what decade this is set in much less the plot structure. dracula!

[jedi-enthusiast]

Hello! You requested questions and I just happened to rewatch the Clone Wars Micro series last night and had forgotten the ceremony in which Anakin is Jedi Knighted. (The Jedi Council held their lightsabers upright in the dark then Yoda did a take on medieval knighthood to refresh anyone's memory.) Does this ceremony appear in any other Star Wars media or do you have an opinion about it? Thank you!

As far as I'm aware, a specific ceremony like what happens in TCW doesn't happen in any other SW media (at least not in what I'm familiar with, which is Disney + Lucas Canon, I have like...zero knowledge on Legends).

We don't get a whole lot of info on what actually happens during the "Knighting" process---we know that it's a test of readiness and skill of some sort, since there are multiple mentions of a "trial" or "great trial" of some sort, but we don't ever really get told what that's supposed to be. We know that someone going through a particularly difficult challenge is seen as fulfilling said trial, since Obi-Wan was Knighted after defeating Maul and Anakin was Knighted after trying to rescue Obi-Wan and protecting Padme on Geonosis, however I think that those situations are likely outliers given that they happen in a kind-of wartime context.*

Given what we're shown and told about the Jedi and their culture, I think a more normal "trial" before someone's Knighting would kind-of be like what we see on Ilum during "The Gathering" episode and what we see Ezra go through when getting his kyber crystal.

During that episode we see the younglings face difficult, but ultimately harmless, challenges that test their skills, flaws, and fears. Ilum tests them to figure out if they're ready to receive a kyber crystal (and therefore a lightsaber) and all the responsibility that comes with that, as well as their ability to apply what they've been taught to their situation---things like selflessness, bravery, determination, and kindness.

And when we see Ezra get his kyber crystal in Rebels, he goes through a very similar process. The Jedi Temple tests him but it specifically tests his ability to let go, to not have attachments, to be able to deal with loss---which is something that we see Ezra struggle with throughout the show. The Temple shows him very real things that could happen, notably Kanan dying and Ezra being hurt (emotionally) by the Ghost crew, as a way to see his reaction and how he deals with pain, anger, and grief---basically testing to see if he can handle those things, or if he's going to turn to the Dark Side the first time things get bad.

The episode culminates, and Ezra is finally given his crystal, when he shows that he can deal with those negative emotions and practice let go in a healthy way---when he proves that he's ready for the responsibility of being a Jedi.

Personally, I think a normal "trial" would probably include the Council evaluating said padawan and sending them on a mission tailored to their weaknesses and faults as a way to test said weaknesses and faults, either alone or with a knight/master whose job is SPECIFICALLY to just sit there and watch: no interference unless things get to a point where it’s a disaster and clear that the padawan can’t handle it.

The ACTUAL Knighting ceremony, though, I like to think there’s a small personal ceremony—like the one we see with Anakin—but then in peace time there’s a larger ceremony each quarter, to celebrate all the new knights and the passing of the torch: they have been taught and now it is their turn to teach- (with the obvious caveat that they’re always still learning, growing, etc.).

I also think it’d be really cool if the Jedi had specific robes for their Knighting ceremonies, more intricate and colorful than their usual outfits with details that represent different challenges they’ve faced, missions they’ve been on, their specific focuses, etc. but that’s just me wanting an excuse to see the Jedi in fancy robes lol

----------

*With Obi-Wan being Knighted after defeating Maul and not Falling after his master's death, I think that is 100% an outlier because like...how many padawans are facing a Sith after a thousand years of their "extinction" and I doubt a lot of padawans watch their masters get murdered right in front of them, given that they've had peace for hundreds of years at this point.

And with Anakin I also think it's an outlier since his Knighting literally happened right after a war had started. I think that Anakin wasn't really ready to be Knighted, as shown by...literally everything in AotC, but the Jedi were stuck between a rock and a hard place because a war just started and they need everyone that can to help fight the fascists and protect democracy and innocent civilians. I think it was a case of "he's rough around the edges, sure, but we trust him and he gets most of it, and we don't have the time right now to smooth things out like we would usually want to before Knighting someone" so they chose to Knight him then instead of waiting. So, again, an outlier.

[ninadove]

feligami and chlolila!!!!!

Great choices, Noctie. You know me well.

Chlolila ✅

1. What made you ship it?

Let’s be honest. This is not a ship you get into because it’s cute, or because you hope for a happy ending. And I’m not exactly known for my appreciation of Toxic Yet Fascinating Dynamics ™.

THAT BEING SAID — they are a great plot device. Just like I don’t enjoy whatever Gabeminath had going on, but recognise how it pushed the story forward. So I am likely to write Chlolila in the future (When? Who fucking knows. Certainly not me), as part of a bigger project, purely because the narrative potential is through the roof.

2. What are your favorite things about the ship?

See above! ☝️

3. Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

Despite everything I stated above — I can totally see how they could have been written as an evil, yet healthy duo. More on that here.

Now that this is done. Let’s move on to serious business, shall we.

Feligami ✅✅✅✅✅✅✅✅✅✅

1. What made you ship it?

This iconic exchange from the Diamonds’ Dance, which I stumbled upon with exactly zero (0) context a little over a year ago.

Listen. I was so prepared to be annoyed. I, too, was an aro Felix truther. I, like many others, was a Marigami enjoyer before anything else.

ALL OF THAT GOT THROWN OUT THE WINDOW SO FAST WHEN I SAW THESE 20 SECONDS OF INTERACTION.

Everything is there already!!! The instant recognition of someone who has been messed up by life in the same way you were (child abuse, queerness, neurodivergence, you know the drill)! The challenging of each other’s worldview! The softness of her hand in his! Disobedience as an act of devotion!

And upon watching the episode — is there anything more beautiful than this evil genius/desperate kid abandoning the masterplan he dedicated his entire life to, the scheme he threw away all moral considerations for, just to make this pretty and deeply hurt girl he just met happy?

2. What are your favorite things about the ship?

Every. Single. Aspect.

What can I say that I haven’t said before.

They are incredible representation (AH!!!!! See what I did there?) for basically every marginalised group ever.

They are incredibly soft, even though they were created to be perfectly emotionless (Kagami) or perversely cruel (Felix). Not only is their relationship forbidden, their capacity to love itself is an infraction to the blueprints crafted by their parents.

The ease with which they switch moral alignments for each other, which is majorly overlooked on Kagami’s part. More on that in another post on another day.

Felix willingly following her guidance in Representation is the ultimate proof that he has achieved freedom; devotion is meaningless if it is not freely given.

THEY HOLD HANDS SO MUCH. WHEN THEIR AMOKS ARE FUCKING RINGS. IF THAT ISN’T THE ULTIMATE SHOW OF VULNERABILITY AND TRUST I DON’T KNOW WHAT IS.

And much more. I am slightly drunk right now, so I’m probably forgetting a lot.

3. Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

Shipping Feligami is controversial in itself, somehow. Let me tell you, many people out there have weird grudges against 14-year-old characters, and absolutely zero reading comprehension. DO NOT READ THE COMMENTS ON BUGGACHAT’S LATEST CHAPTER, Sunny. You would be shocked by how many advocate for violence against our boy.

Other than that, as you said yourself — childfree Feligami for the win. There is no way these queer (!) abuse survivors (!!) who defy any and all societal norms (!!!) would have kids. I rest my case.

Thank you for the ask, Sunny! 🖤☀️

Ask game here.

[spikemd]

The Blu-Ray Project: Aquaman

My wife and I are watching through every movie we own in alphabetical order, which is truly a weird experience that I've been tracking here. It feels like we've been trapped in the A section forever.

Disclaimer for this movie: I'm not generally a DCU person. I've seen a few of them (like both Wonder Woman films) but otherwise just know the movies through things I've read about them or seen here. All of which is to say that I'm absolutely missing some context from prior films, and there's a chance this would make more sense if I'd seen Justice League.

I was very thrown by the pacing and dialogue of this entire movie. The choice to give all of the backstory in flashbacks repeatedly ground everything to a halt and felt like someone was telling me "this is why that conversation from a minute ago was meaningful and emotional!" There were no moments when I felt the emotional payoff of feeling that something we had previously seen led to what I was now watching. Even Arthur's movement from "I will never be king, I'm just helping prevent war" to "I'm challenging you to be king" happened abruptly with zero explanation for why he changed his mind. And don't get me started on Mantis -- he already hated Aquaman in the first scene (which was hilariously one-sided since Aquaman had no idea who he was), and adding his dad's death just felt gratuitous. Also, less than zero chemistry between Aquaman and Mera. I could not care less about their interactions. In general the film just didn't trust the audience to tolerate any build up -- we went almost immediately from "we're going to fight the surface dwellers" to massive tidal waves, with no time to make it feel tense or ominous. It was so abrupt that I honestly thought it was a dream sequence for far too long.

Visuals were pretty fun for the underwater travel scenes and I was a big fan of the seahorse dragon mounts; the de-aging tech on Arthur's parents was a crime against humanity.

The funniest moment for me was when they traveled down into the trenches and emerged into the Hidden Sea, Journey to the Center of the Earth-style. I greatly enjoy the armor aesthetic of "I made this from monsters I fought," but Brittany and I were just giggling because How to Train Your Dragon 2 did it so much better. Also don't show me tiny dinosaurs and then have that not be important.

I do think every movie should include Julie Andrews as a giant sea monster fucking shit up. And the moment the Brine King spoke I was like, "Gimli?!!!"

So many feelings about the mediocrity of this movie. There was so little believable human interaction among anyone that I couldn't even come up with a queer headcanon for anyone. I can't believe I'm going to voluntarily watch the second one.

[stillthewc]

DISVENTURE CAMP ALL-STARS: FINAL FIVE PLACEMENT PREDICTION

With Episode 16 wrapped up and the thirteenth contestant eliminated from All Stars, I wanted to take a quick second to post my placement predictions for the rest of the current cast. I'll do my best to explain my reasoning for each person, and will add a "read more" in order not to immediately spoil anyone. With that out of the way, let's get started!

5. RIYA

While I was horribly wrong about my previous prediction of Riya going home last episode (rip Alec), I'm about 95% sure she's going home next, assuming the person in fourth place doesn't usurp this placement for her. Riya's arc this season has very much been about trying to maintain her "villain" branding while pushing away someone who still believed in her, and this episode's left enough breadcrumbs to have me thinking it'll officially wrap up soon:

With Alec being disposed of, and Grett having zero loyalty towards the villains anymore, Riya's essentially all alone voting-wise (outside of maybe Ally, but she seems more obsessed with getting Jake out than legitimately working alongside her at this point). This makes me think Riya will realize how isolated she made herself, and see how flawed her pursuit of "villainy" truly is.

This episode's opening and closing set pieces heavily emphasize how corrupted Riya's become, with her selfishly asking for a perfume bottle back he apparently gave her as a gift (not sure of the full context of this since this is my first DC season, but obviously it was a show of goodwill), and disposing of it after seeing Connor's disappointment in her desire for it. This metaphor feels like a nice semi-cinematic closer to their story, representing the end of this arc.

Add in the fact Ally's being built up as the next big antagonistic force, and the eventual pushing out of Riya feels like an inevitability at this point. I do genuinely hope it's sooner than later though, please let this storyline die already Odd Nation.

4. GRETT

It pains me to put Grett at such a low final five placement, since she's probably my second-favorite person still left in the competition. Her arc about breaking free from Yul was extremely cathartic, as is seeing her gain confidence in herself and take control of the competition. However, that's precisely the problem, she's in too good of a position right now.

Obviously, Ally's seen through her strategy of playing both sides, making it clear that she'll probably have a hand in Grett's elimination. But it also worries me that Grett won the last episode's immunity challenge, with this demonstration of how capable she is feeling like the climax to her story. Plus, on a pure logical level, she doesn't really have the votes to stay at this point: while Connor's chill with her, Jake's open about distrusting her and Ally's growing suspicious of her. Tl;dr, things aren't looking very good for Best Girl in the long run 😔.

3. CONNOR

The man, the myth, the legend, Connor's my personal fave of the season by far. The man's carrying All Stars on his back at this point, with me loving his positive influence over the heroes, his desire to prove he's capable of winning, and even his exploration into his destroyed relationship with Riya (even if I wish the arc was exponentially cut). However, I have difficulties thinking he'll actually win.

While he has enough plot points at this point to make me think he won't immediately be evicted after Riya's gone, I think the major theme with him post-Riya elimination will be the "proving himself" arc. However, I don't necessarily think it'll end with him proving himself as the best contestant, but rather realize the positive effect he had on others: Jake basically sees him as a father figure, Alec is gay for him admires him as a person, and even Riya has the slight potential of being influenced for the better by him. I can totally envision him fumbling the bag just before the final two, but being shown just what his worth truly is, and helping my pick for the winner... well, win the season.

2. ALLY

As much as I really, really, really don't want Ally getting to the finals, it pains me to say the story would just make more sense if she came in second.

Although I personally find the writing of her arc substandard at best, Ally's descent into villainy is a perfect mirror of my current winner pick: while their arc's been about them growing and changing as a person, she's ended up regressing to the same petty, annoying contestant they once were, making them nice thematic parallels to one another.

Plus, with Riya likely leaving relatively soon, and Grett's "villain" status being up in the air at this point, it just makes sense for a newly-corrupted hero to be the final boss of the season. Hell, with her desire to be liked, perhaps the newly-found disappointment from her friends will be the reason she loses. Who knows?

1. JAKE

I've been on Team Jake's-Winning-Disventure-Camp-All-Stars since Lake's character shilling to Aiden about him in Episode 11, and with everything I've watched following it, I can't see any outcome that doesn't have him being the winner at this point. He's easily what I'd consider the main character of the season and, while his arc hasn't exactly been the most enjoyable to me personally, is the one I'd consider having the most win equity to it.

During the first half of the series, Jake... isn't exactly the most pleasant, to put it mildly. Due to the early arc of Jake's paranoia over Tom's relationship with Aiden, he spends most of his initial screentime being snippy with his hero alliance (mainly Aiden and Ally), something weaponized by some of the more villainous players. This petty feuding leads to the hero alliance's darkest moment: Ashley, aka Jake's most trusted ally at that point, getting voted out as collateral.

However, after Best Boy™️ Connor returns to the game, and subsequently calls the heroes out for their pettiness, Jake begins to take small steps to stop being such a self-destructive person. He manages to turn his sour relationship with Aiden around into a genuine bond, helps Connor out of his Riya-related funk, and has his currently-best moment of winning Episode 15's immunity challenge, using his emotional openness to pass a truth-based challenge. This is wrapped up in his pre-challenge exchange with Connor in Episode 16: he's realized he can change for the better.

All of this makes me think the finale will focus on the dichotomy between him and Ally: while Ally's fallen into the same paranoid and spiteful line of thinking as him, his ability to grow as a person will be karmatically be rewarded by his win.

...And that's it, that's all! Thanks for reading my predictions! Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna see how these stack up as the new episodes roll out, lol.

[incomingalbatross]

I've been thinking a lot about redemption arcs lately, and I have a theory that people inherently sense that redemption is something that comes from Someone Else, but the incorrect assumption is that person must be the victim. (Mixing redemption with reconciliation, which really only applies in a Divine Context? Didn't think that part out.)

The kind of harsh truth here is, the victim does not have the privilege of refusing redemption. The villain doesn't need the permission or forgiveness of the person they hurt to become better. Obviously trying to repair the damage done is part of becoming better, but sometimes that's rejected or just flat out impossible. Redeemed Villain honestly just has to let that go and move on.

I think you're very right!

Redemption does seem to get mixed up with (human) forgiveness/reconciliation, which immediately makes things weird. Because on the one hand, the villain has zero right to demand forgiveness from their victim(s), let alone positive reconciliation. But also YES the victims have no say in the villain's redemption, and the villain DOES have the right/ability to become a good person regardless of what the victims think about that.

...I think this is also part of why repentant characters who refuse to forgive themselves strike a chord, sometimes. Like Eliot from Leverage, who seems to have rejected any idea that his past IS forgivable but is trying to do the right thing going forward anyway. If you look at forgiveness/redemption as something granted by the victims, it shows a lot more dignity and even selflessness for him to refuse to even consider it possible. He knows he can't make amends to his victims, and has no right to their own or their families' forgiveness for his vague-yet-murderous past, so he's resigned to carrying the weight of his sins forever. It shows he's taking his crimes seriously and he's also not asking for handouts - it's very Stoic.

It takes the addition of a Christian perspective, though, to say "yes but maybe that Goodness you are trying to serve now CAN, and WILL, forgive you - already has, even - regardless of whether the human people you hurt can. Maybe you don't have to make amends for your sins yourself to have them lifted from you."

Because that's ALSO challenging. The idea that someone's sins can be blotted out even when they really can't make amends for them. But that's what forgiveness IS.

[manynighstinbangkok]

Scene 1 with Jira - part one (my first sexual seduction)

After Sanun, Pat, and Ratha, I was a changed man. I had been an exchange student in Bangkok for a few months and had already engaged in sexual relationships with three girls. Looking back, I can admit that I was a bit too cocky and uncharming with my newfound confidence.

However, I began to identify myself as a perfect 10 among men in a Thai context. When the girls praised my height, fair skin, brown hair, and repeatedly mentioned how much bigger my penis was compared to their Thai partners, it was challenging to stay grounded. I must admit it was a significant shift from when I first arrived in Thailand.

The truth was that there were still many Thai girls who showed absolutely zero interest in foreigners like me. Some weren't attracted to foreign men, and others probably thought we were only interested in sex – which was true, but I didn't see it that way. I believed I could have it all.

Now, let me tell you about my first sexual conquest, by which I mean the first time I actually seduced someone. Sanun, Pat, and Ratha were all girls who had shown interest in me in one way or another, and to be honest, they were the ones who had taken the most initiative.

One girl I had my eye on at the university was a girl named Jira. I had actually noticed her during the first days of school. I remember the first time I saw Jira. She sat in the cafeteria with her friends, wearing a tight white school shirt that seemed too small for her chest. Her breasts seemed to struggle against the fabric, and the buttons appeared to be wrestling with her boobs. As a "boobs guy," I found it difficult to look away.

She was normally the kind of girl I initially thought I'd never, ever, ever get. With those breasts, she was the type of girl who likely had 100 guys after her. Short, petite girls with large breasts - there are few 20-year-old guys who wouldn't lose their minds.

Under normal circumstances, I would have given up without even trying. But at that moment, my confidence was sky-high, and I wanted to see her naked and I wanted to go balls deep on her.

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

I definitely agree with many things said here!

I also want to go ahead and take a moment to describe my own relationship to sign language in both speech loss/aphasia episodes, and outside of them.

I think the first thing that matters to say is that I come from a culture that "talks with our hands." I don't mean that we are especially active gesturely while speaking, or that we are "native" sign language speakers, because neither of those things are accurate. The "gestural language" I was raised with developed alongside spoken language, and serves an assistive role in spoken communication by assigning certain communicative indicators (e.g. tone indicators, emotional context, spatial relationships within the narrative, etc) to certain specific gestures.

I also was taught introductory sign language (ASL/ISL) for several years in primary school, and it turns out that I *really* quickly integrated sign language into my gestural language, because several other people in my life also used ASL/ISL and would respond effectively when I did. Additionally, I grew up in a hard of hearing household, so communicating entirely gesturally was pretty common from the jump, and remains very common in my adult household due to my own challenges hearing (side note, wifey adapted to this shockingly well for someone who was much less inclined to "speak" gesturally when we first started dating, altho tbf I don't think I really remember how different things were 13 years ago lol, just that I remember noticing her having an easier time at some point).

So while I would by no means consider myself "fluent" in a sign language, I have found that it can be effective for communicating in ways that were already relatively normal for me.

One of the ways these started is by my mom using sign while she sang to me when i was dysregulated enough to not be capable of hearing/speech. Often, I was not able to communicate anything complex in these times, and I struggled more verbally than gesturally, possibly in part because so many of the gestures in my (actual) native assistive dialect are much less "words" and much more "externalization of internal psycho-emotional experience", so my guess is that it was easier to convey loose and psychotic cognitions through that medium. This tended to show up like me signing the gestural cues in my mom's lullabies when I needed her to sing, queuing that Incouldn't be touched when my sensory overload kicked in, or being able to use "yes, no, thank you, eat, drink, sleep, pain, sorry" as concepts in response to communication from others, and that sure wasn't all the information that would have been important to share, but it did build a floor eneath which I would never have to neglect my needs in those moments.

I genuinely don't know if something similar would be effective for someone without similar language development. It's entirely possible that my experience of this as a partially hearing/non-hearing person is part of what makes it work.

I will say, that as a whole, even if it's not always accessible in crisis, having communication alternatives usually increase my odds of being able to effectively need-seek in those moments. The more (fully internalized) options are available to me, the more likely one of them is to feel semi- or entirely accessible during a cognitive rupture. I will also say that I have never suffered from TOO MANY PEOPLE understanding my signing, but I have certainly suffered from having NO ONE around me who could. So even if something ends up being a bust as a personal technique/tool, I really have ZERO interest in discouraging people from learning to sign. Whether they learn bits and pieces or real fluency, someone having intentionally taken the time to learn something usually results in improved communication experiences for me. Deaf culture is closed, yes, but the language EXPLICITLY isn't. I'm actually kind of nervous for my own ability to interact (regardless of the presence or absence of speech/communication loss) with others if people think that somehow learning to "speak" a form of sign is like. Appropriative? Or unwanted? I'm not sure where it's coming from and seeing more and more of it crop up lately makes me wonder where the discourse is starting from. Because when I was growing up in Deaf/HoH spaces, the prevailing sentiment was that OF COURSE we wanted hearing folks to learn the form of communication we could reliably and consistently use rather than being exclusively forced to interact with the world through a form of communication we could not count on for ourselves. OF COURSE we wanted more people to be able to use sign, that meant WE COULD RELY ON IT BETTER.

I don't know how I feel about fully rejecting and reversing that perspective. It makes me feel like my world is shrinking around me and I am losing important resources, only now when I bring that up people are going to tell me it's respectful of my culture to not put any effort into accommodating my communication needs???? That feels. Bad. I don't know if maybe a conversation about that piece is happening somewhere I'm not seeing? But if so I'd appreciate learning more about the plan to address that shrinkage of access that will inherently come with making hearing folks think it's not okay to learn sign.

That said I do actually think it's important to really talk about the difference between sign and AAC, because they really do often serve different functions! Plus, one of the pieces of sign languages being, you know, languages, is that it turns out learning them is just as good for the brain as learning any other language in terms of the role that becoming multi-lingual can have on strengthening communication and self-expression skills and capacities! Admittedly this isn't my area of expertise lol, so I'm not 100% sure. But I've always wondered if having as many forms of communication/language as I did from such an early age (ISL, ASL, English, Spanish, gestural assistive, etc) was part of what helped me maintain degrees of expressive ability even during cognitive overload. I imagine that's an interesting research question for someone lol.

I wanted to make a very blunt post about hearing people using sign languages for speech loss episodes because I think a lot of people really need to hear this.

..... I really do not know what you guys are expecting to get out of sign language as an alternative to speech

let's start with some facts:

sign languages are their own distinct and separate languages from spoken language. ASL is not English with your hands, ISL is not Irish with your hands, and so on and so forth.

sign languages have their own unique vocabularies, grammar, and syntax

learning a sign language is exactly as hard as learning a spoken language. the idea that learning a sign language is easier is a myth. it is a second language and will be as difficult to learn as every other second language

sign languages rely on a complex system of facial expressions for grammatical reasons. facial expressions are not optional. [PT: facial expressions are not optional.] you will not be understood without facial expressions

from my understanding the majority of people who experience speech loss episodes lose their ability to speak because they are overwhelmed, overstimulated, upset, tired, or otherwise in a state that's upsetting or overwhelming. from my understanding, the majority of people who experience speech loss episodes are losing their ability to use language, they are not losing their ability to use their mouth.

if you are not losing speech in a way that exclusively affects your mouth then a sign language will not help you. full stop.

[PT: if you are not losing speech in a way that exclusively affects your mouth then a sign language will not help you. full stop.]

as I mentioned above a sign language is a second language for you* unless you have grown up signing you will be stuck translating your thoughts into a second language. if you're struggling to use language you will only struggle more to use a second language. it's like if you were monolingual English speaker and you lost speech and decided the solution would be to try speaking Spanish instead.

*okay, there are hearing people who learned sign as a first language**, but that is not the majority of you

**baby sign is not sign as a first language

I also feel like a lot of people seem to forget the experiences of Deaf autistic people when they're trying to figure out using sign language as an alternative to speech during speech loss episodes. Deaf people lose speech too. [PT: Deaf people lose speech too.] as it turns out the complexities of sign language can become too overwhelming and difficult when we are overwhelmed too, and sign language is often our native and/or primary language. if you are not someone using a sign language as your native and/or primary language then what makes you think you'll be able to communicate with it during a speech loss episode better than us?

you are going to find it very difficult to communicate in a second language when you're losing speech.

now for those of you whose speech loss episodes exclusively affect their mouth:

you are treading in dangerous waters. let's start with: sign languages are not AAC. Deaf people, who ultimately control the sign languages and were the people to create them, do not have a communication disorder. we are speakers of a non-dominant language. sign languages are more than just a communication tool for us, they are also endangered languages and cultural languages. they should be treated with respect in regards to those facts. if you treat sign languages as AAC (which therefore treats them as tools for your use as a hearing person) or outright call them AAC you are disrespecting the language and its cultural significance. if you would not call English "AAC for Americans" do not call sign languages AAC.

if you decide to use sign language to assist you during speech loss you should also be using your knowledge of sign language to protect and preserve this language. hearing people can be part of the Deaf world if they sign. you shouldn't shy away from communicating with Deaf people.

If you decide to use sign language to assist you during speech loss you have to [PT: have to] understand the culture behind the language and treat the language with respect to that culture. Deaf culture is a closed, minority culture. it is not free to take from and use as you please. us allowing you to use sign language is a gift, it is not something to take for granted. if you view sign languages as a tool for your use as a hearing person you are stealing.

but back to practicality, I'd encourage you to use AAC over a sign language. you don't tread the same dangerous waters by using AAC and it will also allow you to be understood by more people. most people do not know any sign language, and most people who do know sign language are unwilling to use it.

if you want to commit to learning a second language in its entirety and want to commit to doing so with respect I will not stop you but you should consider whether your motivations are yourself or whether your motivations align with and protect the Deaf community. your motivations should not be selfish.

[ID 1: a userbox saying "this user is deaf"

ID 2: a userbox saying "this user has autism"

ID 3: a userbox saying "this user communicates via sign language]

[inklore]

—🍊. 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐀𝐔'𝐒 𝐎𝐔𝐓

this is not a writing challenge, this is just a list of summer au's that have been collecting dust in my google docs that i'm both sick of looking at, and also feel like for those who also really enjoy writing summery fics, could always use more inspiration or ideas for au's or scenario's (even if it's just smutty or fluffy blurbs).

please make note that anyone can use these for any fandom or character. it's literally for everyone, for whatever ship, gender, or verse. no one owns au's and everyone makes them their own and writes differently. so please do with the content below as you wish!!

you don't gotta tag me if you use one but would i love to read your beautiful work? hell yeah so feel free to if ya feel like it.

i separated each into categories + some might have added context or prompts because i have zero self control and like to be extra and add ideas onto things lmao.

hopefully someone finds these fun and helpful, happy writing my loves <3

LOCATION.

beach

ocean

ice cream parlor

lake town

ranch

summer camp

summer school

island

boat

fishing town

resort

the woods

national park

public pool

destination wedding

renaissance fair

lake house

bar

theme park

capecod

italy

winery / vinyards

country club

cruise ship

concert

RELATIONSHIP BASED.

brothers best friend ('unfortunately' spending the summer with your family)

neighbors au

exes back for the summer

bodyguard au (character a has to follow around reader whose some princess/rich girl on a vacation, bonus points if she's supposed to be on lockdown but refuses to stay at the hotel, even more bonus points if her parents sent her on this vacation as a rehabilitation for her bad habits)

best friends dad (you're spending the summer with your bestie and god her dads hot as hell)

mermaid x human

frat boy x good girl (last minute studying together before summer break, or maybe the frat is throwing a big grad party and reader decides to let loose for the first time in forever)

frat boy x sorority girl (it's giving rich hoes who can't stand each other who get caught doing something and have to do community service with each other alllll summerrrrr long, can you think of anything worse?!)

sitcom stars (they're both on some summer love show but fall for each other instead, or you're two celebs supposed to be fake dating on some mtv drama show in palm springs but you actually fall for each other)

park ranger x someone who thought going camping alone would be fun but oh shit i know nothing about the wilderness au

ex-best friends ex (a summer love but put revenge and 'we're only fucking because this friend screwed me over and it'll really show them' au anyone??)

lifeguard x parent au (or you saved my life let me repay you wink wink)

dads best friend

house sitter x house owner (or neighbor, or family member who came home early and wtf are you doing here and who are you?? or even the old i asked the neighbor to watch our house but also my wife wink wink)

babysitter who tags along on vacation with the family au

fake dating (for the summer)

friends to lovers was made for summer au's!!!

superhero x vigilante (nightly meet ups to keep the streets safe)

friends with benefits but only for the summer au

painter x muse

body found on beach x person who found them (+ the added bonus of the two of them working together to figure out wtf happened and how they got there)

sugar baby x sugar whathaveyou (free vacation? hell yeah)

roommates (renting a room for summer what could go wrong)

tour guide / local x tourist

camp counselor x parent of camper

friend group on a drama filled vacay au

the only single people at this resort for couples au

sad housewife x pool boy

DARK THEMED.

cult au

slasher au

hitchhiking gone wrong (or right)

monster au (summer is the perfect time to go exploring for the monster in the woods or the lake, ocean even, obviously)

haunted house au

ghost hunting au

hunter x prey (bonus points if they don't know they're being hunted until it's too late)

safe house au (gone wrong)

kidnapping au (it's giving 365 days but less shitty ok)

stranded au (on an island, in a creepy town, etc)

bestie's trip gone wrong au (the innocent looking guys at the pool who are gorgeous are actually super shitty and deadly omg, or the couple in the hotel room next to us are insane wow, or someone is killing us off...but it's someone within the friend group)

stuck in an abandoned amusement park au

INSPIRED BY.

grease au

dirty dancing au

x au (70s-80s pornstars au + added slasher element if ya wanna make it dark)

daisy jones & the six / rocker au (summer tour anyone?)

the white lotus (cheating au?? a couple hoping a vacation will fix their marriage, maybe even the whole shitty husband leaves you there and you fall for one of the resort workers)

50 first dates au (but make it 'i bet i can make you fall in love with me by the end of summer)

jurassic park au

i know what you did last summer au

friday the 13th au

the final girls au (aka you end up in your favorite movie and have to find your way out with a side of 'oh shit there's my fav character what if i stayed and made them fall in love with me instead', or go full final girls au and you're stuck in a cult horror movie and have to survive the night to get out of it)

outer banks / goonies au

schitt's creek au

romeo and juliet (1996) au

mama mia au (the prequeal tho aka boning a bunch of people and omg i'm pregnant who is the baby daddy tho??)

overboard au

OCCUPATIONS.

naturalist

farmers market vender

dog walker / dog sitter

dive bar singer

surfer

swim instructor

vet

journalist

camp counselor

author

cowboy

undercover pi

contractor

car wash attendant

lifeguard

gardener / landscaper

summer intern

tour guide

tutor

nanny

theme park owner

bartender

house sitter

summer farmhand

golf course caddy

sign-holder

movie theatre worker

uber driver

wedding photographer

hotel receptionist

RANDOM.

heatwave (how ever will we stay cool?)

shipwreck / stranded on an island au

rainstorm / hurricane au (stuck inside oh no what will we do??)

love triangle that shit

matchmaking au

love letters in a bottle au

drunken karaoke

kissing in the rain is top tier

workaholic letting loose au

(illegal) car racing au

road trip au

[streets-in-paradise]

Child Soldiers in a Secret War - Teen!Andy Barclay x (Fem) Teen!Winchester Reader

Masterlist

Word Count 1.8 K

Warnings: Minor crossover with Supernatural, the reader is a twin sister of Sam Winchester. The family dynamic and some aspects of her personality show she has a resemblance with Gabriel. 

Summary: The national widespreaded news of the death of the Play Pals CEO right after the company’s last attempt of launching the Good Guy doll reach the trained eye of your hunter family, but your father is way too bussy somewhere else and your brothers don’t seem interested. Quick research on the Chucky case shows that is only constant is the original survivor, a boy named Andy Barclay, so you infiltrate at a military school to protect him as you follow the lead discretely acting as his bodyguard. 

Tags: @losersclubisms​ (I’m posting this only because you said you liked the idea and wanted to see it.) 

Notes: I stretched the timelines of Child’s Play 3 events for this to work, but let’s ignore it lol. 

The almost natural affinity that Andy Barclay had to find trouble was clearly not stopping on Chucky. In barely a few days since his arrival at Kent he managed to get picked on by the biggest asshole around. Luckly or unluckly for him, he wasn’t the only newbie on Shelton’s sight, but he was indeed the one who was having to stand it without a reason, because that other was a weird girl who seemed to have tons of fun provoking him. Anyone would think it was merely someone who was just following the steps of Da Silva, tired of being an easy target for when his attempts to tear her down wouldn’t work, but her comedy style was perhaps a little bit beyond hers. As if annoying that douchebag was a new hobby for her boredoom, she compensated for her overall awkwardness by making everyone laugh from time to time. 

No one knew much about her, except from her last name and some hilarious takes. Fame described her as a complete lunatic, his roommate said he was almost convinced that she was the prodigal child of a military family being sent there to reform. Andy’s curiosity was mostly linked to the fact of how oftenly he would end up stumbling across her. It was as if she actively seeked to get punished with him all the time and he couldn’t find a possibly understandable reason for that. 

The sentence on that particular time was cleaning and he found out on the spot that they were, once more, punishment partners. The resting stance she had was odd, at least, as if she was not thrilled at all because of being waiting for a challenge, or some storm to hit the place. It actually reminded him of someone else… 

Himself. 

There were no collaborators on the crime that brought you there, but you knew Shelton despised that boy and he was going to find a way to make him land for punishment anyways. Trying to act natural, you pretended to ignore him and you kept to yourself mopping the floors while humming a song.

“ … Hi!” Andy awkwardly saluted you. “ It’s Winchester, right?” 

“ Yeah, like the rifle.” You joked as confirmation. “ Enough with the bullshit, I know your name is Andy. Just call me (y/n)” 

“ Well, it seems that we are in this together … again, (y/n).” He recalled. “ Why did he send you for?” 

You raised your stare from the ground to look at him. 

“ Shelton? He found out I stole three packages of salt. The ‘ zero tolerance’ shit is real, dude.” 

Andy couldn’t help laughing and you could tell he was weirded. 

“ Why would anyone need that much salt?” 

There was no point in hiding yourself from him, he had to be aware of things to some extent, although you weren’t sure of the limits of his awareness. 

“ I let him believe I was planning a prank, which in other contexts could have been completely true, and this is just the start of the punishment he gave me.” Was your still mildly vague confession. “ Sending the girl to clean the kitchen… the originality is killing me. I swear that dude is boring even as a sadist.” 

More chuckling followed and you felt incentivized to be as open as you wanted. 

“ I stole it because of the ghosts, in places like this you never know when you are gonna find one. Watch out for any spot where military antiques could be stored.” 

The boy was completely clueless, looking at you as if you would have spoken in another language or said something delusional, probably wondering if you were crazier than he was. 

“ I believe in cursed objects. Did you know that some people think the Winchester last name is cursed because of all the people that were killed with the rifle?” 

The strange tease fell tasteless to him.

“ That is way less funny than what you think.” 

“ Not if you knew my family, I truly believe we must have been cursed.” You insisted. “ You are not the only one, we are all child soldiers in a secret war.” 

The phrasing choices were quite strange, but he felt thrilled. 

“ Is that philosophical?” 

“ It’s the family business.” Served you as clarification. “ My eldest eldest brother loves it, but he only wants to pick serious shit. The middle bro has one step in and one out so I am the only one who wanted to take this. Send the little one for the cursed objects while we fight demons! Classical Dean. You are lucky because, unlike my bros, I live for bizarre cases. Give me the cringe, if this is the stupidest thing you have ever heard of then leave it to me. Collecting fun anecdotes is the best part of this crap.” 

Andy had no idea of what you were talking about, but he could only guess it was ranting about your brothers and their positions regarding a military career. 

“ Has someone around you served? Is that why you are here? ” 

He made you remember of your casually perfect cover up, that you almost forgot completely while relaxing with him. 

“ My dad, he fought in Vietnam… He has this rude army man act that he pulls everytime he wants to find obedience from us, so I’m really used to the ‘ yes, sir’ thing we have to use here… but I also like to mock it. I’m never gonna be the perfect child, I’m not the queen of confrontations either so why not evade things with jokes? Why try so hard to impress him or waste so much energy on fighting him when I can make him laugh and pretend everything is fine? Court jester’s privilege, it works just fine with many authority figures. I may try it with Cochrane someday.” 

Andy felt stressed out just by thinking about that. 

“ … Please don’t. You are going to get us in more trouble.” 

Using annoyance as a form of bonding, you seeked to figure out things for the case. 

" Did you know that, according to voodoo lore, Damballa never ever speaks? He can only make snake sizzling sounds." You casually commented at him, then emulated the snake-like sound. " It's funny, because I bet Chucky never shuts up." 

Andy was confused because, for one part, he couldn't agree more, but he also couldn't understand why you were implícitly showing to believe in him.

" Why are you telling me this? " 

" Hello? It's called info dumping on a common interest, that's how people get close. I don't know much about voodoo, but I read a few random facts that are gonna change the course of your life." 

The explanation emanated a charisma that was hard to ignore. 

"... Let me guess, it's about Damballa." 

" He is the creator of the universe, kinda like a voodoo equivalent to what christianity calls God. Nothing impure should touch things consecrated to him and this rule is super strict." You kept rambling out loud to him. " He is associated with all things white because... listen this... HE IS A WISE, KIND, BENEVOLENT AND PATIENT DEITY, only with not much regard for everyday mortal issues."

Andy laughed so loud that you both almost got reprimanded by the kitchen staff watching you over. 

" You gotta be kidding me..." 

" I'm not! I swear it's true, my sources are legit." You defended yourself. " My father would say ' You gotta kill them all, this is war.' but i think It's not the god's fault if Chucky uses corrupted versions of his worship rituals. Have you ever wondered if you yourself are a tool of Damballa punishing him for crimes against religious nature and that's why you beat him over and over?" 

" What you try to say is that Damballa himself put me on Chucky's way and ruined my life to give him a lesson??" 

" That's the theory I am working on. Damballa likes pureness and what is purer than a child? It's like the greek gods and their favorite heroes: maybe Damballa likes you so much that he chose you and he didn't mind it was gonna damage you. It would fit with the lore description I read: he is a god that deals with the bigger picture but doesn't think about the details of mundane human existence." 

The amount of effort you were putting into what he thought was just trying to make him feel better was heartwarming. 

" As a consolation it is not the worse i have heard." 

" Just be careful... and remember that Damballa's day of the week is Thursday, he loves the color white and all things lightfull. Communicating with him is extremely difficult, but you can appease him with random little acts like adding something white to your everyday outfit. His preferred offerings are uncooked white eggs and white flour."

He stared at you and you could tell he was about to laugh. 

" ... White flour?" 

The fact that your quickly researched lore seemed so plausible to him was an offense to your work and you chose to take payback with a joke. Sneaking to reach an open package of white flour that one of the cooks was using, you took only a handful of it. Then, with your palm extended as if you were about to blow kisses, you actually blew the flour in the direction of Andy's face. 

" You are welcome, now you are blessed."

The breakfast of the following morning was a follow up of inner jokes. It was a Thursday and you made sure he would watch you on the line asking for white bread with eggs and milk. One of your fingernails was painted white and you made it be the one that would be visible when pulling the trigger of a gun. However, Andy had an even bigger surprise for you. 

A white flower picked from the school ground that he secretly gave you in the hall once both of you were done eating. Your heart beated fast and you mentally cursed yourself because you could tell it was the building of a crush on the boy you were commanded to protect.

The next thing you did was checking if you had mail. your brothers were supposed to send you extended research info and some practical things that you asked for, but your little battle kit didn’t arrived the last time you consulted about deliveries meant for you. Ríght at the spot where you were supposed to check that you came across Tyler, the nice kid that was always saluting you everytime he would pass by. 

He was in a big hurry, ignoring you completely while carrying a package.

"Hi, Tyler... Bye, Tyler!" You mocked the situation, wondering what the hell was wrong with him. " Well, I trust the boys so I know there must be something for me today." 

[wingsyliveblogs]

I was considering just responding to this one with something snarky, like “takes one to know one”. But I like Amity too much to leave it at that, so let’s look at this line a bit closer. 

Ahaha whoops this one got a bit long. Cut for length!

When we were first introduced to Amity, she was doing the exact thing she’s now accusing Luz of - bullying a peer. And she was at it again last episode as well. By definition, that makes her a bully herself. But I don’t see Amity as the type to be deliberately hypocritical in this way, so I have to conclude that she doesn’t think that what she’s doing is bullying at all. This is very interesting, because Amity has felt like a fairly self-aware character up until now... but with this line, suddenly she has an enormous blind spot in her perception of herself that’s waiting to be addressed.

When it comes to her relationship with Willow, Amity is unnecessarily cruel and insulting towards her former friend. Willow is hurt by what she does, and Amity needs to acknowledge that, especially if I’m correct and she hasn’t realised it at all. Even back in Episode 3, part of me wondered what Amity was trying to accomplish by interrupting Willow’s private pep talk to herself in the woods, and I still think there’s a slight possibility that she wasn’t intentionally beating Willow down. 

What she did in that scene, underneath all the condescension, was: she assessed the state of Willow’s abomination, had her own abomination tell Willow she was a “star”, and said that she thought it was possible for Willow to get a passing grade. Now, every single one of these statements was accompanied by a whole load of insults and sarcastic remarks, but thinking about this from Amity’s perspective, did she really realise how that would come across? I’m not sure. 

I don’t think I can say this for certain until I’m able to see how Amity and Willow’s dynamic develops over the course of the series, but I think it’s possible that Amity was legitimately trying to encourage Willow. But between her having zero people skills, and being surrounded by people like Boscha and her siblings who are incapable of being nice to people, any positive effect her words could have had was drowned out by layers of insults and condescension. (In fact, I would go so far as to speculate that the company she tends to keep probably has a lot more influence on her general demeanor than we may know at this point.)

Then we come to Episode 6, where Amity’s insult towards Willow is a direct response to someone else - in this case, Boscha, who opened with a deliberate attack towards Willow in a very similar way to what Amity was doing in Episode 3. It’s Amity’s words in particular that hurt Willow, and lead to pretty much everything that happens with the Moonlight Conjuring in this episode, but Amity doesn’t really seem invested in what she’s saying at all. Adding in her statement in this episode that she doesn’t want to seem cruel, but she can’t afford to show weakness - even if the context of this statement was her dynamic with Luz, and not with Willow - and it makes me wonder, just a little. 

When it comes to Amity’s relationship with Luz... things are definitely a bit different. Luz doesn’t have the history with Amity that Willow does, and although she has challenged Amity in both Episode 3 and Episode 5 for the sake of one of her friends, the result of both confrontations was that Amity was the one who ended up feeling hurt and humiliated. Luz doesn’t want to be Amity’s enemy, though she won’t hesitate to do what she feels is necessary to look out for her friends. But Amity doesn’t know that. 

From Amity’s perspective, Luz showed up pretending to be an abomination for who knows what reason, and the very first thing she did was get Amity in trouble. Even if the principal took Amity’s side, she was still sent to his office in front of everyone in the cafeteria, and (although she didn’t see this herself) Luz was nothing but happy about this at the time. Then when Amity vented her frustration at Luz because it seemed as if Luz was pretending to be a witch, too, Luz responded by challenging her to a duel, proceeding to cheat, and then having her exposed for supposedly cheating. Even if everyone in that audience knew it was Eda and Lilith who were actually cheating, it was still humiliating for her and she’s still upset about it. 

The thing is, up until now, Amity’s perception of both Willow and Luz seems to have been... slightly off. She’s seen how powerful Willow is, but she still says that she has no talent. Nothing truly bad came of her brief humiliations, but it feels as if it did, and so she can’t let those experiences go. Again, I can’t say for sure what her intentions towards Willow are, but with Luz, she tends to assume the worst of her, because she keeps witnessing Luz’s terrible decisions and thinking that Luz is doing all this stuff on purpose when she really isn’t. Even in this episode, Luz didn’t want to hurt Amity, but she got so caught up in accompanying Amity’s cool siblings that she couldn’t bring herself to speak up against what they were doing until it was practically too late. 

Ultimately, I think Amity is wrong here. Luz isn’t a bully, but Amity is. However, that doesn’t change the fact that Amity is hurt right now, and it’s at least in part because of Luz’s inaction. I’m certain that Luz will do whatever she can to make things right, and I can only hope that Amity will eventually do the same for the person that she’s hurt as well. If Amity truly doesn’t realise that she’s been engaging in bullying herself, I hope she’ll figure it out sooner rather than later, and give her old friend a proper apology. Willow deserves that much.

Anyway, back to the episode... takes one to know one, Amity!

[ultfreakme]

Well, I think it's kind of unfair to compare Jay with Kitty, J'onn, Vision etc when those three have had decades of time and writers to figure out the extent and limits of their powers and how they work meanwhile Jay's main focus as a character is primarily as a journalist and he's only recently been a hero in his character arc.

Nicole Maines gave him the weakness, not Waid. From what's been shown, I think we can surmise the hard limits for his powers.

From his fight with Nia, we know his phasing can't go through magical/dream-based constructs (Nia's powers are hard to place currently since it's both an alien power and a magic power and lies somewhere in between).

His powers activate on reflex as you said, but specifically when he is in danger. I assume it's like an automatic flinch of a hand, or dodging out of the way. It exists, but we've seen that it specifically activates when he's under physical, external threat.

Since he gained those powers through forceful experimentation which I suspect will have involved chemical injections, I think it'd be safe to start of with saying things like food and poison would be able to affect him if he ingests it.

We also see in Superman: Son of Kal-El & in Absolute Power: Ground Zero, he needs to concentrate to have any amount of control over his powers to make them useful. Eg: He couldn't run on solid ground while phasing if he didn't take the effort to unphase at every step He also seemingly can't extend his phasing to other objects and his phasing disrupts properties of objects he phases with- Jon gave him a Legionnaire ring which he could use to fly, but to activate that feature, he needs to be solid. So when flying and fighting, he had to make conscious and present decisions to not be phasing while switching to phasing again when physical attacks came his way(Tom Taylor gave him that drawback).

You listed one of the major drawbacks of his powers- it can protect Jay, but it's much harder to use it to protect others, which is a challenge he'll have to tackle in the future if he's continuing as a hero. I think the fact that it only protects himself is a good way to do character commentary- he WANTS to help others, but his powers are focused entirely on himself- how can he improvise and adapt to function to help others?

EDIT addition: Jay mentions that he needs to focus to stay present, and implies it's more natural for him to phase. He;s got the reverse problem of every other intangible character. Him being present and focusing on making himself being the reason he gets hurt is also great character commentary.

I think that establishes a fair amount of things? Not everything, obviously, but again he's got about 20-25 issues to his name excluding the pride stories.

While Jon is relieved Jay cannot be hurt, we see in SOKE how both of them are naive in that assumption- Bendix knows Jon cares about people so he holds his mother hostage and uses her to fight Jay. This emotionally wrecks Jay ad Bendix manages to physically hurt him too since Jay is unwilling to fight his mom. Deadeye also, obviously, shoots him. Jon viewed himself as expendable & capable of taking on every risk because of his powers, and assumed the same for Jay- but a lot of stories they've been in show this is not the case and they can both be hurt regardless of their powers.

I wouldn't call Jay's powers a crutch when it's evident he can be hurt in multiple ways? It's more like- well when considering the context of Jay's character and the symbolic implications. Jay speaks of his intangibility like he is a ghost, like he is not present or someone who is often unacknowledged- which works into his story theme as a journalist from a colonized country whose suffering is hidden under propaganda(he is made into a "ghost" by Henry Bendix, his country's plight is also hidden by Bendix). There is the obvious Lois comparison in-text but the text also presents multiple other things going on with the meaning his powers hold to him as a character. Though it seems like a great advantage at the start, it came from a lot of pain(human experimentation), and has continuously made him a target(one of the reasons Waller targeted him is because he is a posthuman).

Jay's used his powers actively in like, 10 issues? Of which about 3 are the ones where it kicks in during combat. It's a little too early to determine if his powers are written badly when the other listed characters have had the grace of adapting over decades of storytelling. I think we're going to have to wait a while before making any hard decisions on his powers but so far, I think we have enough to work with to figure out the basics of his powers.

Fandom Musings: Writing Intangible Characters

     One of the issues about having a creative mind is that you start going down rabbit holes.  This is especially true if you see something written that just doesn’t seem right.  There’s something off, and that part of your brain isn’t going to rest until things are settled.

     One of the issues about being a pop culture fan is that you’re frequently bombarded with stuff that doesn’t make sense in real life, and yet you try to.  Our minds are constantly going on about powerscaling, who can beat who in a fight, how this character’s powers work/don’t work, etc.  Hey, it’s made for some great clickbait articles on certain pop culture websites that shall not be mentioned.

     (O ye who have tried to create a canon or coherent timeline for Doctor Who, I feel for you all.  It is a Sisyphean task, not helped by writers who have said basically, “don’t worry about it, just enjoy the show.”  It’s kind of like saying to us, “oh, 2+2 really does equal 5 in the Doctor’s universe.”  It just feels wrong.)

     Let’s take phasing, aka intangibility, for example.  At its base level, it’s the ability to go through solid objects without harm.  Four characters come to mind with this power:  Kitty Pryde, aka “Shadowcat,” the Vision, J’onn J’onzz, the Martian Manhunter, and Jay Nakamura, aka “Gossamer.”  Let’s compare how this basic power is portrayed with these characters.

     Kitty is a badass genius.  I don’t state that lightly.  She’s highly trained in martial arts and has genius-level intellect.  Her phasing ability allows her to walk on air and can be extended to those she touches.  She can phase through electronics and disrupt them along the way.  Her phasing ability can also help camouflage herself and anyone she’s touching.

     What are the drawbacks?  Well, she has to breathe.  She can’t do that while phasing, so she instinctively holds her breath.  She also finds certain materials (e.g., adamantium) harder to phase through, slowing her progress.  And if she ever goes solid inside of something, that’s Bad.  She also has to will herself to phase (except for that time when she was phased by default and had to will herself to be solid).  So, that means that she can be taken by surprise.

     Very interesting, you say.  So, what’s the point?

     I’m getting to that.  Let’s go for another example:  J’onn J’onzz, aka the Martian Manhunter.  I’m going to concentrate on his phasing ability and not the fact that he’s won the superpower lottery.

     J’onn’s phasing is similar to Kitty’s.  It’s an effort of will.  However, unlike Kitty’s phasing, he does not appear to be able to share this state with others, nor does his phasing have any side-effects with the items he’s going through.  Then again, given his superhuman toughness and strength when he’s solid, he’s not going for subtlety.

     What’s his weakness?  Well, there’s the whole thing with fire.  If he can’t concentrate, he can’t phase—and his weakness to fire is primal and ingrained.

     Is there a point?  Yes, there is, but I have one more example before I get to it:  Vision.

     One of Vision’s powers is to alter his molecular density selectively.  So, he can be as hard as a diamond, or insubstantial so that he can phase through objects and fly.  He has used this ability both defensively and offensively.  He’s selectively phased through an opponent, only to alter his density just enough while in contact with the opponent to knock them out.  Of course, a less principled person could have used this to lethal ends.

     What’s his weakness?  Well, Vision can take damage if he goes up against someone stronger.  And again, his intangibility is a conscious act.  He can be taken by surprise, but he’s incredibly resilient even if he does take the hits.

     And then, there’s the Johnny-come-lately, Jay “Gossamer” Nakamura.  I have some issues with how his powers are portrayed.

     First, his power is reflexive—and often, without him realizing it.  It’s an automatic reaction.  It basically boils down to “if this can hurt me, my body phases.”  Yes, he can do it at-will, but the primary conceit of his version of phasing is that he “can’t be hurt.”  Oh, he can will himself to be solid to take some hits, but he gets hurt in the process.

     Can he share his intangibility/phasing?  No.  Is he versed in combat?  Well, not that we’ve seen.  Has he been shown to selectively phase through objects or people?  To a certain extent, he has, but only as part of the weakness that Mark Waid gave him:  He has to be touching the ground when he runs, so that part of him isn’t phased.  Which…kind of ignores the whole “super leaping” and “partial invisibility” that Taylor gave him.

     Jay’s power is vague and ill-defined.  He just does it automatically and he supposedly can’t be hurt under most circumstances.  And if something can potentially hurt him, his body goes intangible without him realizing it.

     So, does this mean that Jay can’t be hurt by what he eats?  Does his body somehow know that the triple-decker bacon cheeseburger he’s ordered will clog his arteries, and his body phases before he takes a bite?  Or will potential assassins resort to a binary poison—compounds harmless on their own, but mixed together, are lethal?  (Hey, it was in the 1989 Batman movie.)

     So…Jay can phase through rubble to reach people, but he can’t do much when he gets there.  Shadowcat can grab someone and they both phase to safety.  J’onn and Vision can phase through the rubble, then pound their way out.  Jay can only really talk to people in that situation, but if oxygen is low, then that’s not ideal.

     My point is that it’s not the power you give to a character, it’s what you do with it.  Kitty, J’onn, and Vision and clearly-defined strengths and weaknesses.  Jay?  Not so much.  In fact, Mark Waid had to add a weakness so that he could get Jay captured in Absolute Power—something that Tom Taylor tried very hard to avoid.

     (I just realized that I’ve totally ignored Phantom Girl from the Legion of Superheroes.  Mea culpa.)

     With Kitty, J’onn, and Vision, being able to phase adds to their character because there are also drawbacks.  With Jay, it actually takes away tension, urgency, and agency.  It was designed to be a “get out of difficult situations free” card, and a reason why Jay and Jon are supposed to be together.

     Well, Clark will freely admit that Lois is far more risk-taking and daring than he is when it comes to chasing the truth.  And she doesn’t have the crutch of intangibility.

     But that’s just my 2 cents.  What do you think?

--Doc

[all-things-fic]

Somewhere Only We Know

A/N - Hello, you lovely lot! Hope you are all keeping well in these utterly shit Covid times. Who would’ve thought that we would still be here in December?! Please see my offering for @goldenbluesuit​‘s Christmas Fic Challenge. Hope I’ve done a bit of justice with this piece.

I can remember Katie texting me telling me about the challenge, and I’ll admit I was given first dibs and now I’m absolutely shitting myself because I’ve seen all the brillaint entries so far and I’m not sure I really cut the mustard with this piece but I’m proud of myself for being able to put a solid 70% of this together in just one day (that one day being today).

Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Katie has done a brilliant job and I know how grateful she is towards anyone who has joined the challenge or supported by reading/sharing etc.... I need to stop rambling... Okay, thank you for sticking with me as always and happy reading! .x

***

The last thing you remembered actually reading in the group chat was “make sure you have your wellies”. You were glad that you remembered that part at the very least.

Winds whipped around you as you buried your face further into your cream roll neck cable knit jumper, all but hidden underneath your tobacco borg teddy coat that someone had already likened to Macklemore.

Nothing like being back home with your closest and oldest friends.

Mud squelched under your feet as you walked in line with two of your oldest girl friends, eyes looking over the four males in front of you as they led the way over the grassy hills.

There had been zero planning on what today’s events would bring. It was quite clear that the seven of you just wanted to be reunited with the country air and wind bitten cheeks.

It was nice. How simple it was. On the surface at the very least. That was until you zoned in on the little things. 

Like his laugh. The same laugh that always carried somehow and it seemed like the wind was making it that much more prominent than usual today.

There was no denying, he had this glow about him. Even from the back of him. You felt silly for thinking it, but it was true. It was in the way he held himself as he attacked the grassy hills with his feet clad wellies and brown trousers.

Life had changed a lot in over a decade. Christ, had it been that long? You’d all gone from baby teenagers to fully fledged adults. The age range of your friendship differing slightly, the odd person here and there slightly older than a couple of people in the group.

Nonetheless, many of the experiences had been the same. The big job offers, and the even bigger promotions. The heartbreaks, regardless of their prominence or lack of, had been the felt the same. The flirtation between some of you sparked probably a bit more so now with a finesse that didn’t have you rolling your eyes but rather leaning into it. 

Four out of seven of you were single. Jack and Jonny were virtually married off, however neither of them were with their partners this year with both deciding to spend Christmas at home and New Years with their significant others. Alice was still loved up and going strong with her fella, as was Grace who you hadn’t heard a peep from as she constantly checked her phone to see when the person she was besotted with finally arrived up North thanks to West Midlands Trains pulling into Crewe. 

So that left Will, you and Harry. Harry who had  quite publicly made it known that he was single. Well, according to your Mum he had, in several interviews. Including the one that she had described as an ‘incredibly relaxing watch and nice background noise to my Sunday evening brew and ironing session’. 

That was a strange one for you, his honesty. In earlier years of friendship, he always seemed quite aloof. Like he was keeping his options open. Guarded in a way that frustrated at least 75% of the friendship group, in the nicest way possible. You knew that was a contradiction but any annoyance came from a good place. 

You remembered one night in 2014 when he wouldn’t quite give you a straight answer over tequila shots whether he was shagging someone or not. You also remember the way he’d been pulled away from you tactfully by Alice that night when she sensed how you were about to blow up at his lackadaisical attitude. 

The same had been felt in 2016. Not so much in 2018, but you weren’t single then so maybe you just didn’t care. 

2019 was significantly different though.

See the thing was, you knew him now. Like, knew knew him. 

Some would think it was a lapse of judgment, a reading that you would agree upon given what had happened two days prior if ever prodded about it publicly.

Others would vehemently disagree. Stating how long any sort of energy between the two of you had been bubbling for a number of years. 

Looking back you couldn’t even understand why you’d attended his show. You lived in Camden and it made sense, but that’s where the sense stopped. Even the ways he had reached out had been one of the most random messages you’d received from him

There was no context, just a simple ‘I’m playing the Electric Ballroom and there’s tickets waiting for you if you want ‘em.’

And the thing was, you loved that venue. The grungy-ness of it all. The way you had stuck to the floor while trying to dance along to the likes of The Hives and Kings of Leon when seeing them playing there, basking in your sweaty happiness. 

But the stickiness of the floor and sweatiness of the room didn’t compare to the stickiness and sweatiness you later found yourself partaking in as Harry took you from behind over the side of his couch. 

A shiver rolled through you at the thought, one that you would blame on the December bitter chill because it was a secret. One that neither of you had mentioned since it happened on Thursday night, or to be technically correct the early hours of Friday morning. 

He’d been good. Of course he had been.

He had that way about him that night that pulled you under a false sense of endeared security. From his dimpled smile to gleaming eyes. He was happy. 

And the way he had shone as he found you on the balcony had warmed you like nothing you had known in the longest time.

It caused you to forget about the worry that had laden you limbs as you turned up at 9.13pm to the wooden doors of the building, wondering how many songs he was in to the set as you convinced yourself he would start at 9.00pm.

As you’d been ushered over to a clear box window and uttered your name to a dorky looking man wearing a tracksuit pull over and watched him handover a white envelope through the circle hatch. 

You stood in the dark, next to two much younger girls who enjoyed the way his glances lingered over at their side. Eyes had found Gemma in the opposite corner of the balcony, her dancing and singing with some recognisable faces mainly more so because you had seen them on social media.

You, however, kept yourself to yourself. Until you were anchored in the tightest hug from Gemma that you had ever felt from her and swayed from side to side as she made it known how pleased she was to see you once the concert was over. 

That familiarity had been nice. The vibrancy of nostalgia consuming you in your entirety. 

Watching him work a room when he finally entered the after party was a sight to behold, in his navy blue pinstripe suit and yellow ‘I’m gonna die lonely’ t-shirt. 

He wasn’t. Gonna die lonely, that is. 

He glided so smoothly from one person to the next, spilling a drink down himself in the process you’d seen (and later felt when your hand clung to the fabric of his t-shirt as you kissed), making time for everyone in his own unique way.

Big eyes followed you over Gemma’s shoulder when he had finally found himself within your circle and hugged his sister once more that evening. They were hard to read but also openly filled with a glimmer of hope as he dropped his gaze to see what you were wearing.

And when he approached you, he hugged you in a way that managed to pull you into the darkened corner of the dingy space. Spinning your body to keep your face concealed from any prying eyes. 

He revealed to you how he didn’t think you were going to turn up, scanning you with his gaze as he spoke. You did the same, a bit taken aback by just how attractive you were finding him. He had always been handsome but the aura he gave off, made your fingers itch to have him closer to you. 

Words ran away from you that night as he begged and pleaded with you to tell him what your favourite song had been. Based on first impressions, which the show has been, then Canyon Moon and Watermelon Sugar had smothered you and given you no other option but to pick them.

If he were to ask you now you’d probably say To Be So Lonely, thanks to the drive home being longer than originally thought and said album being your choice of road trip music. 

Forget Driving Home For Christmas, nothing slapped more than one of your closest friends admitting to being an arrogant son of a bitch. 

After your chat, he mingled some more but Harry was always tactile and that night had been no different. He veered conversations with people you had never seen before to take place by the zone that you all occupied.

He actively kept his back against yours, allowing the faintest of touches and brushing of arms - sometimes hands too if he dropped them down heavily enough with his arms as he spoke - to entice and create a spark. 

You were kept late enough to miss the last tube. Battery dangerously low on your phone that you didn’t know if a transaction with Uber would be worth a try. 

Jumping into the same car as him had been easy. His soft and tired eyes findings yours in the cab as he leant his head back against the headrest in the back seat and let his lips tip upwards in an expression of tenderness that had you melting in your seat. 

“‘S been a while since we’ve both been a bit pissed in the back of a taxi,” he mused, pushing his fallen locks out of his eyes to ensure his view of you wasn’t obscured. “Come an’ cuddle me like you used to do when we went out a’ home and were worse for wear.”

Falling into his side was almost second nature, eyes closing as you let your forehead rest against his jawline and let his worn in cologne fill you senses and scatter your judgment.

You don’t even remember how you ended up kissing that night. A mixture of confessions about missing each other and praise of how good you both were in your own ways. The sound of his whispered, “are you coming home wi’me?” against your lips an offer too good for you to refuse as you sat pressed into his side and half in his lap. 

The giggles that night, around dramatic shushes as you tripped and shuffled from the car to his front door were almost haunting in your memory as he tried to chastise you around spluttered laughter about being respectful of his neighbours. 

Getting the key in the lock proved unchallenging -  one of the better analogies aligned to your memories and latter sexual endeavours - as you slipped into the house. He enjoyed watching the way you walked ahead of him into his home, not realising how much he needed that visual of seeing how well you fit in. 

While time seemed to slow in that moment, movements desperately sought the opposite. Hands gripped and clawed like their lives depended upon it. 

Looking back now, both he and you wished it hadn’t happened the way it did. Skirt lifted and over the side of his couch. Teeth clashing and hips knocking.

It had been every inch a drunken fumble. A first meeting slightly cheapened but wanted nonetheless. Only made even cheaper by the hush-hush concealing of it ever occurring. 

But a secret it was and a secret it would remain. 

And oh how you wished you had a pillow you could press you face into right now and scream, this time for an entirely different reason. Unlike that night. 

“Not seen a sign of any deer yet, mate,” you heard a voice break you out of your indulgence of recollecting past events. Harry was the worst at wanting to get a reaction. 

“Christ, have a bit of patience would yer?”

You smiled at the bickering, just like it always was as the River Dane could be heard in the distance somewhere as you walked. If you listened really close, that is. 

Lifting your eyes, your smile lingered as you watched Harry spin his body around and let his hands get lost in the massive pockets of his parka. He walked backwards holding your gaze softly with his eyes twinkling before he gently rolled them at the overreaction and impatience of your friends.

He seemed pleased that you’d enjoyed his teasing as you once again hid you smile into your jumper. 

You’d be alright.

***

You heard giggles and screams ahead of you as your friends stumbled in the dark and messed about as you got closer to the viaduct. This place or the people didn’t change, and at times while it filled you with a warm nostalgia, it could be heavily jarring.

A soft and lazy smile pulled at your lips as you felt his heavy forearm lightly tug you closer to him, his lips finding your hair. And then there was Harry. 

“Think we should go this way m’self,” Harry mumbled, the nudge of his hips against yours had you stumbling slightly in your heels away from the direction of your friends and somewhere completely different. 

“And why’s that?” You turned your face slightly, cheeks warm and flushed thanks to the mixture of alcoholic beverages; eyes glazed as they lifted up to look at him. 

“Cause you never would’ve let me when I was sixteen,” he admitted. 

“You didn’t ask.”

“‘M askin’ now.” 

With slow blinking eyes, you looked at his own unfocused vision. A soft shine to his skin, hair blowing gently against his forehead. The softest of smiles tilted at your lips.  

“On yer go,” he nudged you forward, this time more so with his crotch and his hands, which wrapped around your hips to help steer you. Harry was met with only a small amount of resistance from you as you split off from your friends and turned in the different direction. 

You bit back your laugh, dropping your head slightly as you felt your heels started to sink into the grass as you walked. Harry was level with you when you sunk down noticing the way you legs slightly gave way, a soft chuckle omitting from his throat as he asked, “You alrigh’?”

“I’m sinking in these bloody things,” you grumbled, pulling your heel from the grass and trying to place the sole of your shoe onto the ground beneath you first. 

“So much for no’ being able to take the country out o’ the girl. London’s changed yer, swear it.”

Shaking your head, you cut your eyes to give him a harsh stare for his wind up. His amused expression lit a fire in you like no other. He really wasn’t one to talk though, was he? 

“Gi’me your hand ‘ere,” he held his out to you, quickly cupping it when you handed it over and pulled it under his bent elbow. “Remind me again who’s idea this was, eh?”

He didn’t need reminding, he had been one of the keen instigators for the whole jaunt down Twemlow Viaduct. It usually was him, or Jack. The two of them often reminiscing on times they had both raided their parents' alcohol cupboards and managed to sneak out with some dusty bottle that held a liquor that tasted out of date and stale, and if not that then, cheap. 

“‘S still fucking freezing down ‘ere, in’it?” He asked, lifting his left hand up to his mouth and blowing against it to try and get some feeling back into his fingers.

“We’re so close to the river, I don’t know why you’d expect anything different?”

“Is this why everyone was always so insistent on necking anything with over 11% alcohol in it when we came down ‘ere as kids?”

“Probably,” you softly laughed. 

“‘S a bit different now though innit?”

“Oh, I’m not so sure,” you started to correct him, shrugging your hand out from under his elbow and reaching for your bag. Quickly fumbling with the clasp, you lifted up the quilted flap and managed to pull out the stainless steel hip flask.

Harry cackled a harsh laugh, his eyes crinkling as he slowly let his laughter die down and softly let his joy wash over his features. “Impressive. Gone all proper on me.”

“You know I haven’t,” you held his eyes watching as he nervously cupped at the back of his neck for a short while, a gentle bite down of his bottom lip, as you quickly uncapped the item and held it out to him. He looked like he needed the courage.  You continued, “We’re just a bit more refined, that and we earn a good living. Some more than others, and by some I mean you.” 

He held his hand up towards you with an amused grin at your comment. “You first, ‘s yours after all.” 

Lifting the item and knocking back your head, you swallowed the whiskey with a small grimace, before offering it to Harry once more. This time he accepted, his right hand making light work of taking the item from your hands and sipping at the contents.

His face wasn’t as contorted as your’s when he swallowed, a fan of the chosen beverage if needs must. “‘S the proper stuff, tha’ is,” he commented with a quick lick of his lips before continuing, “Come a long way from sneaking the bottles of dusty Blossom Hill from the back of the cupboard.”

“Don’t know about that,” you smiled, taking the item and pushing it back into your bag. “I’d still drink if, if it were on offer.”

“‘M sure Mum’s got a bottle or two going at home?”

“Is that your way of asking me to go home with you?” You paused. “Again.”

Harry remained silent at your words. Both you and he knew it was going to happen. A mixture of sparks and lovelorn, lingering glances was enough to make anyone both want to give up, while also giving a burning confidence usually unknown. 

Neither of you expected it would be you who started the conversation, however. 

“It is, ‘f it’s gonna work. ‘M not sure I could wait any longer t’be’onest wi’yer.“

Laughing, you reached up to push at his shoulder. He always knew exactly what to say, but no way was he going to make a laughing stock of the whole thing. “Oh, give over,” you spoke, harshly swallowing when he kept your hand against the thick cable knit black jumper he had on. “You’ve made it this far, thus far just fine.” 

“‘M not playin’,” he whispered, hand gently curling around your own and lifting it up to press against his face. His cheeks were warm underneath the cooler hands, despite the cold night whipping around you both and your mind quickly wondered if he was just as embarrassed for his lack of acknowledgment as you had been. “Homes nice, you’re nicer.”

“I thought we weren’t going to talk about it,” you let your soft voice get taken by the wind.

“An’ what gave you tha’ impression?”

He did. He gave you that impression. By not mentioning it. By treating you how he always did.

“You.”

“Me?” Harry responded, indignantly, blowing out a sigh that had his cheeks puffing out underneath your hand. “‘M not doing a very good job then am I? I can’t keep m’eyes off o’you. ‘S not my fault you don’t bloody notice ‘em.”

But you had noticed them. 

His eyes, gaze following your every move, near enough. Stupid little touches. Glances of approval. Not just now, but from years before. 

Treating you how he always did.

Oh, treating you how he always did.

Bringing your eyes back to his figure, you saw the way his gaze darted and nervousness dragged at his features. A frown began to set itself between his eyebrows from worry. 

“Changes everything.”

Running his tongue along his teeth, Harry pursed his lips. “Everythin’ has changed, changed a long time ago an’all.” 

You dropped your hand down, it now massaging against the back of his neck and shoulder as you felt the tension of his body radiating through his clothes. Under the dim moonlight and the odd spotlight that had been added to the viaduct with each passing year for safety, Harry exhumed everything anyone would want in a boyfriend. He was soft, and so bloody gorgeous. Not just because he was personification of an almost six foot tall string of handsomeness, but his character did the talking for him.

He knocked the door before he walked into a room, for example. Who really did that kind of thing anymore? 

But you could also still see the heartbreak that lingered, albeit not as strong as it once was, it was still there. And that was problematic and scary. To be on the receiving end of it. Not that you would hold it against him, because you had been him at one point too. At many points in fact. 

When the two of you had shagged, because let’s face it that is exactly what it had been, while a sense of familiarity in the person was prevalent it was definitely overruled by the desire to just hit a euphoric high that if hit right could not be topped. 

Familiar overruled in other aspects, and it wasn’t to be brushed away. But was familiarity a mask that would slip sooner rather than later? Was it the start and the end?

The both of you experienced similarities in your life that could not be matched by the friends in your friendship group. London had chewed you up and spat you out, ruthlessly so. While rewarding you with long hours but fat pay cheques, careers that catapulted you to new heights and enabled you to see parts of the world that two country kids (which in one way you were) could never have imagined. 

Sure Harry’s had been on a much, much larger scale - you would not ever deny that - but you no longer fit in. 

And neither did he. 

This was a place that only the two of you knew. A place where you watched those around you fall in love and have the time to do so. A place where your friend's happiness was created a lot easier than it wasn’t and allowed a sense of success to weave its way in, through the most unexpected of happenings.

Not a place where you found happiness in your work because there was less of a space for happiness to blossom elsewhere. Not really. Not like you; both of you. 

Understanding was vital. 

This had been a place you knew like the back of your hand. A place that had you feeling the earth beneath your feet, fresh air in your lungs and had at times made it so you found yourself sitting by a river and finding yourself feeling complete. 

Yet looking over at the almost 26 year old, that just wasn’t the case anymore. 

And for once you didn’t feel alone. 

The sound of the odd piece of cobbled pavement underneath Harry shoes, buried beneath overgrown grass and plants, broke you from your thoughts, as you watched him kick at the ground and scuff his shoes.

He sighed, head tilted back before he knocked it to the side and caught your eyes. A small scoffed laugh left his lips as he shook his head and dropped his gaze to his feet.

“‘S it fucked?”

You hummed, a small frown lacing your features.

“Fucked it, haven’t I? Fuckin’- idiot-“ he breathed out a noise as he clenched his teeth, one that wasn’t quite a growl but enough to let you know he was agitated. Only strengthened by how tight his jaw became. 

Before you could even think, the back of your hand gently brushed against the pulsing hinge of his jaw. Muscles taut as you tried to soothe him in a way that your mind was screaming was far too intimate.

You didn’t want him having any internal battle about right and wrong. Not when you had both taken the same steps to get here. 

“Thought it was just meant as a one time thing,” you admitted. “Like you needed it, and I needed it. Was what it needed to be at the time. Bit rough, bit sloppy-“

You cringed are the use of the word. Wanting the ground to swallow you in a weird fashion. You should be able to talk open and honestly with someone who you had known longer than hadn’t. 

“Rough?“ Harry swallowed audibly, his face fallen. “That’s not-“ 

His eyes held an emotion similar to sorrow at the mention of the word. “That’s not the impression I wanted to give you.” 

“We were both drunk, it happens.” 

“Not with me it doesn’t. Not when it’s me, wanting to be wi’you.”

“I mean I was into it if that helps anything?” 

“Were yer?”

You looked at him from the corner of your vision, watching his lips try to fight a smile as you rolled yours into your mouth to not give yourself away. You knew what you were trying to do by speaking those words aloud but you wished you hadn’t. Awkward breathy laughs were shared by the two of you as you held his eyes. 

“Was I?”

You hummed in agreement to answer his question, letting your smile dance along your lips now and watching as Harry’s dimples started to show. His expression was youthful, slightly smug. 

“Good t’know.”

***

Finishing saying your goodbyes to your friends and ignoring their suggestive expression because ‘Harry was stopping as an extra pair of hands’, you shut the heavy wooden door and reached up to close the deadbolt lock at the top. Shortly after, you let your feet drop as you stopped standing on your tiptoes and pressed your forehead against the door. 

The silence of the pub was always a strange one to you. A place that was usually thriving, whether it was just your friends, or your parents friends. When the lights were turned out, it was actually quite a lonely place. Regardless of growing up around this sort of industry your entire life and having parents as publicans nothing was more depressing than an empty bar, lifeless and nothing like it was intended.

A suggested lock-in from Jack, who managed to interrupt both yours and Harry’s conversation earlier had not been a bad shout after all. You knew it meant that you would have to deal with the fallout with it being Christmas Eve, but it wasn’t very often that you found yourself in the setting. 

Turning to move from the door, you almost jumped out of your skin when you heard the opening of a familiar Lily Allen song start to play over the speakers. 

Harry emerged from the corner of the pub that housed the jukebox, slowly rubbing his hands together before he wordlessly picked up the scattered pint glasses that had remained on one of the tables that had been missed by the staff on the evening shift. His eyes glanced over at you, as you stood with a hand to your chest.

This wicked smile and gleam washed over his face as he paused his movement. “Did I scare yer?”

“Do you not think it’s a bit loud?”

He wrinkled his nose at you, a soft shake of his head no, to answer your question. 

“‘S your fave innit?” He asked, head nudging to where the jukebox was now hidden.

With a small smile you nodded, “Prefer the Keane version in all honesty.”

“Don’t have it in the bloody jukebox though, d’yer? Can’t like it that much.”

Your smile deepened at his exclaim and how prominent his accent sounded as he spoke, the small clink of the glasses he was holding only heard if you really zoned in. 

“Where d’yer want these?” He asked, holding up the five pint glasses he had collected. “Behind t’bar?”

Humming, you nodded and watched as he weaved his way through the tables to you. You frowned as he got closer, not understanding why he hadn’t bypassed you completely.

Once he was close enough to you, you watched as he reached for what you knew to be your own glass of wine that was almost finished. 

“Fancy the rest of this or can it go too?”

Looking at him and down to the glass, you gently wrapped your hand around it and brought the lip to your mouth. You knocked the item back quickly, swallowing the rest of your wine, before handing over the now empty glass back to Harry.

“Good girl,” he joked, light laughter lacing each word. “Sit yourself down.”

Wearing an amused and quizzical expression, you let yourself sink down into the wooden chair. Resting your chin on your hand, you spun slightly in your seat to keep your eyes on Harry as he placed the glasses down and lifted the hatch so he could step behind the bar. 

With your free hand, you started to tap the worn beer coaster labelled with the Cheshire Brewhouse logo against the table. Part of you hated how Harry had a knack for anything, including knowing his way around a bar. 

He busied himself with collating the glasses once more as you let your eyes take in the surroundings you had known, loved and even grown out of. 

Your parent’s pub was cosy and friendly. A truly 

classic and quintessential British village pub, featuring open fires, bookcases found in the very far corner or the jukebox in the other, lots of old oak and a really pleasant garden with benches for the summat and heaters for the winter. You know the kind that had its regulars that had kids who had seen each other grow up.

The bar was the centre of the pubs house, with an extensive array of whiskies amongst many other delights. A nice range of local ales and a well-balanced, great quality list of wines on offer designed (which you would be taste testing if the service hadn’t decided to take a break) to complement the food menus designed daily by a team of chefs who all have a passion for great cooking using fresh, seasonal and local ingredients.

It looked as Christmassy as Christmas could get, with a real tree which was locally sourced from one of the many surrounding farms and traditionally decorated with golds and reds. Twinkly lights shone, not only on the trees but as part of the garland that was hung above the bar each year, much to the annoyance of your Dad and the delight of your Mum.

Slowly dragging your eyes back to the bar, you watched Harry as he poured you another glass of white wine and started to recap the bottle. He must’ve felt your eyes on him, his gaze meeting yours almost immediately. 

“Service is a bit slow,” you jibed, once you knew he was with you. “Going to ruin the reputation of a fine establishment.”

His chuckle was breathy in response, but warmed you through as he turned his back and pushed his tumbler glass up against the device at the bottom of the Glenfiddich distilled malt whiskey, not once but twice going for a double. 

“Helping yourself to the stock now, as well.” 

“‘M sure your Dad won’t mind,” he responded, twisting his body back around to reach for your own glass and place it onto a tray that sat along the bar top. “In fact he’d probably make a comment about how it’d put hairs on m’chest.”

You laughed, unrestrained, knowing just how right he had been with that comment. 

Over the otherside of the room, Harry smiled and shushed you as he walked closer, easily holding the tray with your drinks upon it. “Being a bit loud,” he taunted as he slid the tray down to the oak table.

“Oh, now you’re concerned about the noise.”

With his hand against the back of the chair which was currently housing your outstretched legs, you felt him start to wobble the seat to give you a warning. 

“Hang on,” you said, “Plenty of other chairs.”

“This one’s mine,” he responded.

Wanting to roll your eyes but deciding not to, you let your legs drop down and gave the seat back to Harry. Once he was comfortable and he’d taken your drink off the tray, he gestured with his right hand.

Not entirely focused, he had to do the ‘come hither’ motion a couple of times before you finally cottoned on. He was willing to let you put your legs on his lap instead, while he may have taken the seat it didn’t mean he wanted to take away your comfort.

No sooner had your legs been raised to rest against his tan washed velvet corduroy trousers, was he fiddling with the buckle of your stiletto sandals.

“Got mud everywhere,” you commented, wiggling your toes that were painted a festive red and inspecting the little dots of dirt that were splattered against your skin, as Harry dropped the first shoe to the floor and quickly worked on the second. “Dread to think what they smell like.”

“Smell alrigh’ from ‘ere,” he mused, smirk faint but glaring obvious in his tone of voice as he threw a quick and mischievous glance at you. As you elongated your foot against his thighs, the tips of your toes were just about able to press into his thick jumper to try and jab at him for his comment. 

Before you were able to put any sort of force behind your action, Harry’s hand clamped down around the top of your foot causing your eyes to snap up away from his hand and up to his eyes.

There he sat watching you, top two teeth pressed into his bottom lip keep his smile at bay. Releasing his lips slowly, his whispered threat left his throat, “I will tickle.”

You tried to fidget away but to no avail. With a whined laugh, you frowned as Harry goaded you by slowly raising his eyebrows. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

You had tried him. 

Truth be told you wanted to again.

If he wanted to.

Reaching for your wine, you took a hefty sip and let the silence swallow you both. Harry, who kept his hand on your foot and his fingers dancing gently against the top, let his head fall back awkwardly against the hardwood. His head dropped to the side taking in his surroundings and their familiarity. 

“Do you ever get tired of coming back?” 

You hummed, sure you had misheard due to the way the blood was rushing around your ears. He turned to look at you, all double chin and puffy cheeks.

“Of everything being the same, but different?”

His whispers captivated you, hushed confessions not quite meant for anyone else but his own mind yet spilling from him with such an ease that he did nothing to fight them. 

“I’ll admit, I come home for other people. Not for me.”

“People?”

“Mum, Dad,” you paused. “You.”

His smile deepened. His chin knocking down to his chest, his eyes looking up at you from underneath his curling hair from being caught in the moist winter evening just hours before.

“You can stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you did three nights ago.”

Harry breathed in deeply, his nostrils flaring and his chest expanding. A lick of his lips, before his mouth dropped to sit slightly agape. 

“What if I don’t wan’to? What if I want t’look at yer like this all the time?”

You found yourself unable to respond, nose burying itself into your wine glass as you pressed your lips against the cool outside to try and hide your burning smile. 

His lips curled lightly, before he breathed a laugh once and gently shook your foot with his hand. “Eh? Come ‘ere-“

“Harry,” you breathed.

“C’mon, c’mere. ‘S room for more than just your feet.”

If it wasn’t for the creak of your chair as you slowly started to push yourself out of it, you wouldn’t have consciously been aware of how you were making your way to him. 

His body relaxed, somehow managing to become closer to horizontal than sitting upright in his seat, as he peered as you walking the short distance over to him. 

With his legs widened, he pressed his face into your side now that you were close enough. His nose inhaled the familiar scent of your perfume which was only faint now due to the other senses and scents it had mixed with throughout the evening.

Rolling his face out of your body, he knocked his head back and pressed his chin where his face had been. The face you showed him was worn with worry, an expression he did not want to meet.

“‘S wrong?”

His ask was lazy. Not wanting to dig deep and know. What if he didn’t like what he found? 

“We know how this is going to end.”

“Do we?” He prodded. His eyes moved over your features quickly before they partly disappeared to him, thanks to your curtain of hair which slowly fell down.

His hand reached up, desperately brushing it away and cupping at the back of your head as best as he could while he remained seated. 

“How’s that? Tell me.”

“Same, but different.” 

You knew you shouldn’t use his words, not in a way that could be considered against him, but they - in the most ambiguous of ways - described everything perfectly. 

“Not if I have my way.” 

His words were almost lost against your stomach as he pressed his face against you once more and wrapped his hands around you; sweaty, nervous palms pressing to the backs of your thighs. 

“Same, but better.”

Harry guided you down to his lap, his lips somehow managing to remain pressed into stomach, or your chest, or your clavicle, as your face became level with his. 

“Different, but better.” 

He kissed against your cheek slowly, nose nudging at your skin as he willed for you to relax against him. “I don’t know how you like it, like this,” he whispered in confession. “Show me?”

A puff of air left your lips as you turned to look at him with hooded eyes. His mouth was closer to yours than you originally thought, corners of lips brushing as you slightly pulled away. 

When your lips met, it was in the softest of pecks that trembled under your nerves. Both sets of eyes looking back at each other as you innocently engaged. 

If you were to take your eyes away from him in any way, you would notice those fluffy curls of his falling over his forehead and the lightest dusting of red blush making itself known against his cheeks and the tops of his ears.

He felt like a school boy, lost and clumsy. The kid who was once again flicking paper at you in science class just so he could pull a face at you over something your teacher was saying to get you to laugh. 

Mouths hovering over each other, your breathing mixed, as Harry nodded to you slightly. You pressed your lips to his once more, feeling the way he gradually opened up to you, warmed and softened underneath the puckering of your mouth against his. 

His hands, that slightly trembled, smoothed over your hips trying to pull your body so that it was more so flush against his. You moaned softly, your hands running over his jumper covered shoulders, fingers digging and pulling at the material just below the nape of his neck. 

The chair beneath you moved lightly against the floor, not quite a scrape but a dull drag. Neither of you broke the kiss, but his hands against you allowed fingers to dig in to hold you steady to him so if you were to fall from where you were sitting, he still had you. 

His lips slowed, moving to press against your cheeks again as he panted and his warmth breath bounced off your skin. “Think I got it,” he heaved. 

“Do you?”

Harry hummed his ‘yea’, before pressing his lips so tenderly to your chin and the underside of your jaw. He felt how you swallowed heavily, throat dry from the way your mouth hung open and your neck further exposed itself as you lolled your head back. 

You were falling further and further back, finding it hard to stay upright as he devoured you and made you weaker with each pulling kiss. His groans were needy, muffled and making your ache. While yours were silent and making his desperate to pull something from you. To build is confidence in that he was doing something right, you liked it this way too. 

Hands fumbled and dragged upwards at your skirt, faintly aware now how it was similar - if not the same one - to the garment you wore to his show. 

“Gonna take this off properly,” he mumbled, feeling the way your hips moved slightly from his hands to roll over him. 

“You don’t have to-“

“No?” 

Your voices were rushed as you spoke to each other, barely audible but loud enough all the same. His head was knocked back slightly as you hovered over him and you found yourself admiring his blissed out face even only in the lead up.

This was a sight that you hadn’t received last time, and if you had your way it was one you were going to greedily enjoy in all its glory.

Like watching the way his eyes closed and he softly grinned, the left side of his teeth started to show as the one side of his face reacted first while your hands blindly moved to lift up his jumper and the white tee he had on underneath, to allow you to find the button of his corduroys.

“What ya doing?”

“Nothing,” you mused. 

He pulled a face, the kind that down turned his lips, eyebrows raised and head slightly tilted to the side. The kind that had you smiling. 

“Not trying to get m’trousers around m’ankles for a second time within a week then?”

You giggled. “No.”

“Please do.”

A low moan left you as you pressed your forehead to his jaw and dropped your eyes. Your hands slowly started to pull at the brass button and pop it open before seeking out the zip thanks to his desperate plea, encouraging you to continue. 

Hands quickly sought out the waistband of the trousers and gently pulled at the item. From the way that you were sat, you knew there was no way you were doing to make them budge.

“Stand up fo’ me,” he mumbled, quickly helping you get off his lap so that he could make light work of his clothing and pull down his trousers and underwear. 

His bare bum made easy contact with the cushion leather beneath him, eyes carefully watching you as your hands moved to underneath your skirt. 

The fabric of your underwear slipped so easily down your legs, his eyes just about caught the sight of them as they pooled against your ankles and you kicked them away. 

Legs pressed together, you slowly untucked the v-necked blouse you had chosen and pulled it over your head. Wearing nothing but a fancy black bra, and a tight little skirt you hastily snatched for your wine and took a hefty gulp.

You could feel his eyes on you, a gruff groan catching in the back of his throat and when you finally turned your eyes from where they had been looking down at your heaving chest and how great this bra made your boobs look, causing him to move his hand down to start playing with himself. 

His name left your lips in a breathy gasp, causing you to look up quite surprised at the find of his right hand gently tugging at his hard length.

“Keepin’ me waitin’,” he groaned, his left hand sloppily reached for the back of the collar of his jumper and tee, pulling the item roughly over his head.

“Fuck sake,” he mumbled under his breath, agitated that he was unable to get both items of in one go.

“Smooth.”

Harry stared up at you with a playful squint, before he gently fell back and moved the chair as he did so, the dull scrape heard once more. 

And if you didn’t know he was flushed before, when you first kissed, you were definitely aware now. His eyes were blown out and hungry as they devoured you. Hair wildly haphazard before he let go of himself with a soft slap of his skin and harshly pushed his fingers through it.

“‘S it still a couple of quid for a strip of three,” his words brought you back to him. This smugness radiated off of him as he groaned and leaned forward to push his trousers down all of the way. Over his vans and socked feet, before he toed them off as well be harshly pulled at his white sport socks. 

You didn’t even need for him to explain what he meant, staying silent as you watched his hands tug at his corduroys from the floor and retrieve his wallet. As his fingers moved around to find a couple of quid, the jangle of the coins was taunting. 

One leg crossed over the other, you swayed and found yourself blushing when he looked up at you once he’d managed to find enough money and then some. With his wallet thrown on the table, he stood proudly from the seat and closed the short gap between your both.

Leaning forward he easily took your lips with his own before pulling away. With his face still close to yours he whispered, “Promise not to look at my arse.”

He didn’t hang around long enough for your reply, instead turning away and brazenly giving you all the time you would ever need to admire him, his fantastic bum and his hairy legs before he opted for a jog-walk type of thing, suddenly conscious that he was absolutely walking around naked from the waist down in a pub owned by your parents. 

While you waited you took a quick pull from his whiskey, needing the heftier burn for Dutch courage. Nervousness returned when you heard the endings of what you believed to be Harry whistling. 

“Machine ate all m’fuckin’ change,” he grumbled, regardless of the twinkle in his eye at the strip of overpriced condoms he had managed to score from the men’s bathroom. “‘S Durex. Business must be booming, your Dad’s definitely gone up in the world.” 

“Please don’t talk about my Dad.”

He smiled brightly before he reached for your face with one hand and pulled you towards him mumbling his ‘sorry’s’ against your lips as he gave you several kisses in quick succession. 

His other arm loosely wrapped around your back and pulled you with him as he walked backwards and slowly lowered himself back onto his previous seat. The chair creaked as you joined him, slipping into his lap and feeling the way he was smiling now.

Pulling away from your kiss, he quickly tore away one of the condoms allowing the others to fall without much care to the floor. Teeth took a hold of the foil-like packaging and he tore it not so elegantly with his eagerness.

With his cock nestled in the crease of his own thigh now, the heat radiating from it matched your own agonising yearning. Scooting back to give him space, you heard him groan as he gently rolled the condom down onto himself. Eyes looking up just in time to see him knocking his head back and breathing deeply through nose. The foil-like packaging was back in between his teeth once more as his hands were otherwise preoccupied.

Slowly your hand reached up to take it from his mouth, feeling some playful resistance as Harry continued to hold it in his teeth. His eyes were open and boyishly sincere, as you tugged at the item and he finally released it when you lightly laughed. 

“Gi’me a kiss.”

Obliging him, you leant forward and slotted your mouths together a lot easier than you had done at the start of the night. A heat built easily between the two of you, as Harry gave you his tongue and you felt the flex of his jaw under your hand as he worked your mouths together.

He was eager, his hands tightening on your waist before he growled when he understood he had to grab handfuls of skirt before he could cup your backside. But when his skin met yours and you ground down onto his lap, the groan that left him was the most animalistic sound imaginable. 

The frown your face fell into showed your desire to whimper, as he kept you atop him and marvelled in the way you writhed, both from satisfaction and keenness at the pressure of his cock against you. 

“Can I have you again?” He asked, the startings of sweaty hair being pushed off your face. His eyes peered at you, searching for his answer as you seemed to be able to do nothing but pant and look back at him yearningly. “Are you letting me?”

You dragged your fingers down his t-shirt covered torso and lifted it slightly just to see the quiver of his stomach as pulled you onto him once more. 

“Like this?” you voiced, meekly.

“‘F this is what you like then, yea’”, he breathed into your mouth, hands shifting your pliant body. “Is this what you want?”

You wordlessly nod, mouth falling open in a breathy gasp when he managed to move you so he sat so enticingly at your entrance. He was teasing both yourself and him, wanting to keep you both on the edge. 

Harry blinked a few times as he looked at you, and you revelled in the way he couldn’t seem to concentrate. His hands held your flesh tightly, fingertips dipping into the skin of your bum cheeks as he gently guided you down.

An unattractive and dull, quite strangled noise, left your throat as you let your forehead fall against his temple. Eyes falling down you see the cups of your bra fall slack, you felt his hands softly gliding over your shoulder blades and shoulders. 

He rid you of your bra, hands moving to your chest to squeeze your breasts. His jaw fell slack when you found yourself sitting snugly on his lap - on him - settled and already feeling spent.

This was so different compared to the last time; if not overwhelming so because of the way you both appeared to be so present. Each movement of your hips, and the way they rolled and grinded and dragged felt too much. So much so that you had become nothing more than a mess of short, quick breathing and blushing, sweaty cheeks. 

Slack-jaw, you were unable to find it in you to return Harry’s kisses, and his joyful, breathy chuckle seemed to lead you to believe he was fine with it. In fact he was happy to keep going as you were. 

Your movements were frantic, and despite the build up, not entirely driven by lust either. Harry continued to encourage you to move as you were; slow, grinding motions on his lap that caused the filthiest of groans and dirtiest of laughs from the two of you. Laughter that was only made stronger as the chair that held you both started to creak too. 

You couldn’t do much about it though other than to breathe into each other’s mouth, and rock your hips together with more fervour each time. 

“Yea’,” he breathed against your lips, left hand at the back of your head holding you to him, while his right rested just above your bum. “‘S better. That’s better.”

It was better. Better than last time. Better than anything before. 

And while it hadn’t been frantic before, it was now as your legs that were hanging down either side of the chair started to tremble and your toes started to dig into the worn carpet beneath them. Hips knocking and your clit dragging heavenly against his public bone, you grasped his name as you buried your face into his neck and dug your nails into his nape.

Harry hissed his approval which fell to a groan as your nails pushed up into his hair and lightly pulled as you sought leverage. There were so many things you were learning this time around and his penchant for liking his hair pulled from time to time, was one of those things. 

“God, ‘m gonna come soon,” he admitted, gruntly as he forced your hips down as he anchored his legs and widened his seating position. “Are you close?”

“Yeah,” you whined. “Yes. Like this-“

And as you pressed your face to his once more, he was everywhere. Soft but hard, loving but commanding. Smelled like clean washing detergent but of country air. Inviting and alluring, allowing you your lingering kisses between grounding breaths that became staccato in unison with the movement of your hips. 

You aren’t ashamed of the whines that escaped your throat as you squeezed down on his cock, praised by indecipherable works that left Harry but were nothing more to you than lips moving against your rough and dry ones. Word that made the burning feeling of your pending orgasm spread through your entire body, warming you and setting you alight.

It was long and deep, with your toes curling into the carpet they were pressed against now. Barely able to catch your breath, sucking in harshly and shaking. 

And when you came to, thoroughly exhausted, you noticed that he was waiting for your say so. That he could let go and enjoy the pleasure brought about by your shared labour. 

“Coming-“ was all the warning that you got and was enough to encourage you to watch him as he came, his face completely void of anything other than pure pleasure. Wrinkles and frowns fade, his mouth falling open with his pink lips glinting prettily under the dim Christmas lights around you.

His forehead gleamed with sweat as he wrapped his arms around you tightly and his hips bucked up one, two and three times for good measure. “Fuck me,” he heaved gruffly.

You were suddenly desperate to feel his lips on yours despite the way you both continued to fight to get your breath back, but settled for resting them against the skin of his cheek, which was hot to the touch. 

When you felt Harry start to go soft, you reluctantly pulled away and let him slip out of you. He wasn’t so keen to let you get too far, holding you just that bit higher than before with his hand cupping gently but firmly at your hip. “Where’d you think you’re going,” he hummed, eyes still closed as he continued to heavily inhale and exhale. 

You softly smiled, taking in his soft face and responded by nuzzling close to him again. 

Nowhere. Somewhere. Anywhere with him.

A place where only the two of you knew, like the back of your hand. The same way you knew each other. Now and possibly forever.

[tiny-crecher]

Unus Annus Secrets

Here I’m going to try and explain all of the Unus Annus codes + possible lore. If I have forgotten some information or if one of these links doesnt work/is incorrect please let me know. This post will be updated when needed. 

This is LONG, so be prepared. 

At first, these codes were only in videos edited by NerdFiction, but as of October 26th this is no longer true. (The possible exception to this would be the first video I’ve listed, as the editor is not in the description). 

1) 5 Weird Apps That Predicted Our Death

 “Here at Unus Annus the end is nigh... when the timer hits zero we will cease to exist. is it fate? is this a simulation? Can anybody hear me? My name is.... [FILE REDACTED]”. Timestamp - 0:14

2) Ethan Roasts Mark for 15 Minutes Straight

 “and in the comments, you will read the words you soon will see are wise controlling pawns who type our deed ‘That is Discord, not FaceTime’” Timestamp - 0:40

“within this truth a question stands, is the pee sauna ever close?”. [“Pee Sauna”was uploaded about a week afterwards] Timestamp - 0:40

3) Our Fans Try to Scare Us with Their Homemade Creepypasta

“What will happen if the clock stops”

“Could I find a way to keep it going?”

“If neither hand is right, what deals are left?”

“Who is the master of the clock?” (all around 8:44)

4) Learning to Cry on Command to Increase Our Youtube Views

“remember the key, the incompletion of a logolept’s corrective action” [a logolept is “a person who takes a keen interest in words”. Marcus is likely referring to himself.] Timestamp - 1:49

“the long wait ends with twenty four more for a path of destiny chosen before”[“Pee Sauna” was uploaded the day after] (closely after the last code)

5) Becoming One With the Horse

“They heard me, I knew it could work!” (timestamp currently unknown; to be updated)

Around this time, NerdFiction’s Twitter bio said, among his normal information, that he was “trying to stop the Unus Annus clock from within.” 

6) Preparing a 5-Star Meal for Our Youtube Famous Dogs

“I couldn’t stop it. Will I die with the machine?” (Timestamp - 21:33)

7) Does This Magnetic Skincare Routine Really Work?

“freed or so I thought. Another layer, but still the clock.” (Timestamp - 9:45)

“The Beginning of The End”. 

On July 26th, at 12pm PST, a video was uploaded to Unus Annus titled “Traversing the Desert to Find Our Inner Truth”. This video was only up for a few minutes before it mysteriously disappeared, only to be replaced by another video, titled “The Beginning of The End”. At first glance, the videos were identical, save for different titles and slightly different descriptions. However, the second video was slightly longer than the first, and upon further inspection, many came to realize that the audio was slightly different as well. You can listen to both audios here. There was a rumor going around that the captions of “Traversing the Desert to Find Our Inner Truth” said something about looking out for Norbert Moses, but no one has been able to confirm this to my knowledge. 

8) Puberty Simulator

“Happy birthday to the beast or to the body that once housed me. A transfer made for pity’s sake. Tricked into the machine as he had my cake.” (Timestamp - 14:36) [The same code was found a week earlier in “Mark and Ethan Shave Chica”, uploaded on NerdFiction’s birthday. The original code was very difficult to make out, so it is likely he inserted it into a different video to make it easier for us.]

On the same day, NerdFiction’s Twitter bio read “Everyone must leave something behind when he dies. Memento Memoriae” (remember memory)

In “The Koala Challenge: TikTok’s Intimate Couple’s Trend” one of the clips is edited to look like a TikTok video, with the user ron_somberest being used. Ron_Somberest is an anagram for Norbert Moses. This TikTok account does actually exist, and the icon is a zoomed in and brightened photo of Norbert Moses’s face with the eyes scribbled out. 

Around this time NerdFiction’s Twitter bio read “’It’s not dark, never was’ - Ron Bestsmore”. Ron Bestsmore is also an anagram for Norbert Moses. It is possible that the “dark” being referred to here is Darkiplier, and NerdFiction is trying to imply that Dark is not involved in this. 

About a week after the koala challenge video was “How to Start a Fire (except don’t)”, which featured an appearance from Unus. NerdFiction’s Twitter bio read “In the end, who is your savior and what are they saving you from?” 

Things were quiet for about a month. NerdFiction eventually erased the cryptic message from his Twitter bio. 

9) Learning To Use The Force

“wait no something is wrong. he knows!” (Timestamp - 10:45) [translated from small coded words hidden in the montage]

“STOPTHISWHATAREYOUDOINGO3″ (Timestamp - 11:40)

“it worked” (a spectrogram, derived from a sound played at the end of the video)

10) Momiplier Tells Us True Scary Stories from Korea

“As I was, as I’ve done to him now. Am I right to decide his fate?” (Timestamp - 5:44) [Right before this, Mark’s mom is talking about a nightmare she had where she was paralyzed, possibly implying that nerdfiction was once paralyzed and has now paralyzed someone else (pointed out by @/minervas-sandwich)]

11) Cryptid Olympics

“I thought you’d join us but, hey, that was just a theory, Memento Doctrina” (remember learning). (Timestamp - 5:49) [The code references the Game Theorists channel, which had uploaded a video about Unus Annus earlier that same day.]

- From here on, every video has had some sort of code -

12) Edward Pumpkin Hands - This was the first coded video not edited by NerdFiction, instead being edited by Diceroll.

At various points throughout the video small parts of a url are seen. When pieced together, this link is made: https://imgur.com/a/tyDewJ7. It leads to a photo of the Unus Annus hourglass. When edited, a series of binary text is shown, which translates to “zhIaNL2“. Inputting this into another imgur link gets you to https://imgur.com/a/zhIaNL2. After editing the photo (although you can still sorta see it without doing so), a cipher of a custom alphabet is shown (I posted an edited photo here).

At 5:01 in the video a weird image is shown for only a moment (a slightly brightened version of it here). Nobody knows what the hell it means.

At the same time, there is a reversed audio of someone (presumably Ethan; it sounds like him) saying “we did that”. For context, the sentence said right before that line was “if one of us dies, the other has to take over for the remainder of time”. This is possibly implying that someone, or multiple someones, has/have died and been replaced.

13) Blood Bath - edited by rad_r

“Everything’s fine”

The Unus Annus timer is shown. It counts down for three seconds before counting up for one second. Heavy breathing can be heard over it. It is then cancelled by an error message

“ITS NOT FINE HELP” (this and the previous two messages are hidden at 5:57)

“you’ve done it now.. a machine observed. there is no returning.. a machine unnerved. there is only.. a machine unconqured.” (right at the end of the video, before the timer)

14) The Unus Annus Annual Costume Contest - edited by nerdfiction

“I saw just one door in a hall filled with many, I locked your gate but they were too late to join me. He was re-placed, she was undone, I had escaped yet he had still won”. (Timestamp - 2:05) [possibly talking about diceroll and rad_r. The pronouns would line up, and it would make sense with those two now having edited coded videos.]

15) Ethan Turns Mark Into a Werewolf - edited by rad_r

“futility or farewell? only time time time.” (timestamp - 7:17)

16) Ethan Kidnapped Mark - edited by Diceroll

Two spectrograms are shown in this video; one at 14:08 and one at 17:38. Combined, they create an imgur link: https://imgur.com/a/gKB62sv

The imgur link shows a photo of a key. On the key is a code translating to “stop the clock”

At the end of the video before the timer is a set of text in the custom alphabet previously mentioned. Translated and decoded it translates to “I can hear it coming theres not much time left the ones that tried to stop it have had their hearts cleft it is now your turn to put this loop to rest take us out of here and show us a new nest”

17) Being Brutally Honest with Each Other

“It is alive, no longer living / misunderstood beats unforgiving / escaped that fate but lost the tale / does a hope yet remain or just one final nail?” (Timestamp - 26:03)

18) Recreating Every Single Unus Annus Video

“The bottom of the spiral” (timestamp - 10:55)

19) “All Our Video Ideas That Never Happened”

“Be careful for what you wish for” (taken from two different codes)

*20) The Unus Annus Last Supper + Who’s Cutting Onions In Here??? - both edited by rad_r

“We’ve asked... we’ve tried... is there no way to stop the end? To those who aren’t deterred: how much will you sacrifice to ascend?” (A quotefall puzzle, split into 2 parts)

21) Everything’s Legal If You’re Dead

Norbert Moses is mentioned at 10:50. Look closely, his name is only there for a couple frames.

These have been the only codes I’m aware of as of 11/11/20. 

(be sure to check out @gemstone6’s list as well!!)

Link to my Unus Annus theory