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virmillion · 7 years ago

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Bleeding Out

look who’s back with another songfic bc they decided writing a cohesive short story was easier than adding a chapter in a story they’ve already started whoops // back at it again with that good a n g s t // my apologies in advance this is not a happy one

Words: 5k

Song: Bleeding Out by Imagine Dragons

Pairings: Prinxiety if you squint

Warnings: blood, swearing, character death, let me know if there’s more specific ones you need // I am not kidding about the bleeding, if that is in any way triggering to you I am begging you to turn away now, it seems ok in the beginning but it will be bad for you later and I want everyone to be safe PLEASE

I'm bleeding out So if the last thing that I do Is bring you down I'll bleed out for you

Things were never supposed to get this out of hand. Roman always swore on his life that his room couldn’t do any real harm if he didn’t let it. Accordingly, it seemed as if it would be perfectly safe to bring in one of the other sides on an adventure that required a bit more work than one person could provide, even a powerhouse such as Roman. His offer to take a buddy on this quest was an unexpected one, but accepted nonetheless. The fact that Virgil was the one to take it on, however, was quite the surprise to all sides involved. As the pair cracked open the prince’s door to the faraway place beyond, everything seemed full of hope and wonder, from the shining sun to the quaint village. For now.

“Oh it’s terrible, just terrible!” a townsperson wails, clawing at Roman’s sleeve. “Those awful gangs have ravaged our lands again! Our crops have been razed, our stores ransacked, our livelihoods ruined! You have to help us, please!” “Never fear, my good friend,” Roman replies, taking up a self-important stance. Virgil rolls his eyes at the theatrics. “We shall return peace to your village, and bring those dirty heathens to justice, or my name isn’t Roman Sanders!” Virgil refrains from mention that his surname wasn’t technically given, so much as borrowed from Thomas. Ignorant to Virgil’s smirk at the overzealousness, Roman marches through the town, making sure to speak to every citizen and comfort them in their time of pain. For all that the others make fun of him, Roman really knows how to be sympathetic to those he’s trying to help. From the crankiest old man at the far end of town to the little toddlers hiding behind their mother’s skirts, everyone brightens up at the sight of their benevolent prince, come to save the day. With each new villager, the details vary a bit, but the general issue tends to remain the same—a gang of people destroying the town and knocking out anyone in their way. Standard procedure in one of Roman’s adventures, as far as Virgil knows, but the smaller inconsistencies are what worry him. In some minds, the gang is actually one person with a vengeance, while others think that it’s a pack of criminals looking for a fight. Sometimes the gang is traveling on foot, other times it uses otherworldly monsters to move and destroy. As Roman is the one in control, it should probably be fine regardless. His room is just part of the amalgamation of Thomas, right? So everything should be perfectly harmless. “All that’s needed now is a formal invitation from the mayor of this fine land,” Roman says, taking Virgil by the sleeve-covered wrist and leading him to a building nearly identical to every other one they’d passed thus far. “She doesn’t like to think of herself as higher than everyone else, so she insists on having the same amenities as her villagers.” Inside of said identical house waits a heavyset woman in a beautiful flowing dress, with only bracelets for jewelry. She welcomes Roman with an embrace, followed by a nod to Virgil—Roman had spoken with her in the past about how to approach him as a stranger. “Nice to meet you, Virgil, I take it?” At his nod, she continues, “My name’s Lena, and I’m sure you’ve heard the rundown from everyone outside already. Roman, standard procedure, just see if you can find these guys and stop them. We’d appreciate it greatly, as always.” Roman nods with a grin before backing out the door, waving to Lena. Virgil gives her a small smile as well, following his friend. “So, there’s a great lake blocking the village in to the south and to the east, as well as endless plains to the north, which means these people probably headed west, where the mountains begin.” Roman points in each direction as they head out of the town, already equipped with a sword. “The mountains are gonna be a little tough, what with the coldness and all the caves they could hide in, but I’m sure we can handle it. That’s why I brought you along, after all. Can’t expect me to do all this searching alone, can you?” Virgil shrugs, still unsure why he volunteered to go on this adventure. Either way, he’s grateful when Roman conjures an extra set of warm clothes to carry. “I don’t expect it to be too chilly,” the prince continues, “but better safe than sorry. I could probably figure out a way to neutralize the sensation of cold, except I haven’t really tried before, and it’s not like we’ve got the time for it now.” Honestly, Virgil probably already knows this, and doesn’t really need elaboration, but Roman doesn’t care. He’s never gotten to take someone else with him on a quest, so his natural instinct is to fill the air with conversation. At the very least, Virgil isn’t protesting it, either. He even offers a few clever retorts, spurring Roman’s enthusiasm on the way to the distant grey mountains.

So I bare my skin And I count my sins And I close my eyes And I take it in I'm bleeding out I'm bleeding out for you, for you.

“Gloves?” Roman offers, letting one boot-clad foot sink into snow. Virgil takes the offered garment, slipping the purple knit material over his shaking fingers. With hats and scarves already donned, there’s not much more left to increase warmth, but Roman insists that this is how to get the full experience of the adventure, by letting the senses get the most realistic effect. Virgil thinks Roman had one too many second cookies from Patton this morning. “I still don’t see why you needed a partner on this quest. You’ve never needed one before.” Virgil burrows his nose deeper into a striped scarf, his words coming out muffled. “Because I knew that the villains in question this time were in mountains, and it’s always best to take a buddy on mountain trips, just in case something happens where one of us needs assistance due to complications from the adventure. If someone were to be trapped alone in the cold, I can’t imagine it would end well.” “Yeah, I got that, but why haven’t you brought someone before? Is this really the first time you’ve gone into mountains?” Roman exhales slowly, watching his breath curl and drift into the sky like a distress signal. “More that it’s a rare location, and we were never that close before. You guys never really saw my quests as legitimate things until that time with the dragon witch.” He rubs his shoulder, where a scar still resides. Virgil gives a hum to acknowledge Roman’s explanation, while also not knowing how to respond to it. He looks like an angry marshmallow with all the layers he’s covered in, but Roman isn’t about to tell him so, not after he’s finally making progress in the pair growing closer. Plus, when someone agrees to go on a potentially dangerous quest with you, calling them a gelatin treat isn’t usually the best way to assure that they remain on the potentially dangerous quest. They continue in silence for a while, sometimes veering off track to peer inside of caves set in the mountain, all of which are dead ends. Only a few feet deep, useful for the sheer purpose of a brief respite from the relentless cold. That’s not to say they don’t utilize them—in fact, they stop several times to watch the snow fall and catch their breaths, seeing the wind dust over their snowy footprints. Like it doesn’t want them to be found. As soon as Virgil voices as much each time, Roman smiles bigger before taking off, determined to not let a sour thought interrupt the adventure. “So anyway, once we find these jerks, I’m not sure what the exact plan is.” Virgil glares daggers at Roman for this, but the prince continues unperturbed. “I can’t prepare a scheme in advance given the inconsistent stories from the townspeople, but the general idea will be that you remain out of sight, while I go in with my sword. If they don’t attack me, I’ll try to work it out peacefully, but if they appear trigger happy, fists are going to fly.” Roman pats the scabbard of his sword reassuringly, half-checking to make sure it’s still there. Of course, he can always conjure more if need be, but what’s the fun in that? None of the greatest adventurers in those books Thomas loves had that sort of ability on their side, so Roman tries to avoid it as well. “It’s so freaking cold,” Virgil mutters a short while later. “Maybe if you’d wear more layers on your legs, that wouldn’t be a problem,” Roman replies, looking pointedly at his companion’s black skinny jeans. “If you could just let me conjure some sweats or snow pants or something, even flannels—” “Absolutely not, my legs look great in these,” Virgil hisses. Roman raises his hands in surrender, not denying the statement. “How much longer?” “You know as well as I do that the whole point of this expedition is finding them, and that we don’t know the exact location.” Virgil scowls, pulling his hat lower over his ears and straightening his hood over it. “It’s practically been days, what if they aren’t up here?” “It’s been hours at best, and because of the landscape. No self-respecting gang member would risk being caught by hanging out in an open plain, and regardless of the size, there’s no way they could mobilize themselves across a lake as big as the one behind us.” Roman feels a twinge of pride at being able to explain something so close to him as his quests, wondering if this is how Logan gets to feel when he uses longer words that don’t make sense. Maybe the feeling of cleverness is what makes him do it so much. Virgil isn’t calling any of this stupid, which is immensely helpful as well—Roman doesn’t know what he’d do if someone were to be critical of this crucial part of his life. Luckily, Virgil seems to be cognizant of this, and makes no snide remarks at it. Needless to say, Roman is relieved.

When the day has come That I've lost my way around And the seasons stop and hide beneath the ground

“Our footprints are vanishing,” Virgil comments, looking back at the undisturbed white snow. Indeed, the wind has covered all of their tracks. For all they know, they haven’t gotten twenty feet into the mountains, and the only proof that this is not the case resides in the village in the distance, far too small to be that close. Roman glances back as well, more to admire the land from afar than to check for footprints. The sprawling yellow fields, the glistening blue water, the replica houses dotting the roads. In front of them is only white powder everywhere, eating up anything else in sight. Roman begins to worry as they go deeper into the mountains, the scenery vanishing behind them. They really should have found the gang by now, or at least a sign that they’d been through here. His ears grow numb as he grows desperate, trying not to let it show for Virgil’s sake. Roman is the prince, he’s supposed to be better than this. Even now, they’ve been walking long enough that he can’t say for certain which way the village is. The sun is beaming, forcing his eyes to squint, but that’s hardly an indication of anything. For all he knows, they’ve gotten turned around and are heading in the complete wrong direction. Princes aren’t supposed to get lost. Princes are supposed to protect their companions. Princes are supposed to help. Princes aren’t supposed to march their friends into frozen oblivion. Okay, Roman tells himself, if we don’t see a sign of them in one hundred paces, we turn around. Ten. More grey mountains. Twenty. A sniffle and shiver from Virgil. Thirty. Roman’s foot catches dangerously on a patch of ice. Forty. Virgil nearly goes down. Fifty. Roman can’t feel his extremities. Sixty. Now is not the time to lose hope. Seventy. But he may not have a choice. Eighty. Roman begins to panic. At eighty seven paces, Virgil raises a trembling hand to point off in the distance. “Look, smoke!” Indeed, smoke is billowing in the air maybe thirty feet ahead of them, a definite indication of someone’s presence. Be it friend or foe, the most important thing now is to track down the source of the smoke. With a renewed sense of purpose, Roman picks up the pace, as does Virgil, the pair tromping through the snow and ignoring the feeling of the cold seeping through their shoes. Too soon, while also not soon enough, they arrive at a small hill, the last obstacle blocking the site. Roman bites his lip to stop himself from pointing out to Virgil that this, this was why he needed a companion, to push him through the harder moments that he couldn’t surpass himself. If they didn’t need to be quiet right now, Roman would explain it all, how he never truly liked being alone on these quests, how arduous they were alone, how grateful he was that Virgil didn’t reject the invitation. He’ll tell him later, when it’s safe. Roman points at the ground, an indication for Virgil to remain under cover while Roman moves forward to investigate, but Virgil shakes his head. No way in hell is he letting Princey get hurt if he can prevent it. To be fair, that’s the reaction Roman had the first time someone told him to hang back. Begrudgingly, Roman lifts his eyes to the sky for a moment before nodding, holding out a hand to help Virgil forward. He takes it. Around the small hill is a gently roaring fire, watched by one person with only the minimum layers on that could prevent freezing to death. They don’t even shift their gaze at the boys’ approach, staring deep into the flames. At their feet rests a small bag zipped shut, a match to several other bags surrounding the fire. This person obviously isn’t alone, or else they went to a lot of trouble to make it seem that way. “Hey, are you—” Roman begins, a hand on his sword, but the person doesn’t give him a chance to finish, already on their feet with a larger blade in hand. Roman whips out his own, brandishing it in front of himself and shifting to cover Virgil. “I hope this is fun for you, because I’ve been itching to fight for a while now.” The person grins, widening into a defensive stance. When they speak, their voice is rough from disuse. “You’re the wimp they sent after us? Pathetic.” They shift forward, pulling back the arm holding the sword as a wind up before launching themselves at Roman, the blade flying. He blocks it swiftly, stopping their blade with his own as sparks fly out to the side. Virgil raises his fists, knowing full well that they won’t hold up against a sword, but not caring either. Roman forces his sword up and out, throwing the attacker off. “Oh, a feisty one? How exciting.” The person taunts him, circling around the backside of the fire and letting the tip of their blade drag over the snow. Roman and Virgil duck as a chunk of coal is kicked from the fire at their heads, and all hell breaks loose. Swords and sparks are flying everywhere, melting the snow and burning holes in the bags around the fire. Virgil hangs back, ready to jump in at any moment, while also realizing that interfering could easily do more harm than good for Roman. As Roman gets that trademark self-important smile on his face, success assured, he messes up. A misstep. A trip. A failure to block. He sees the assailant weave away, out of his range of attack. Closer to Virgil. Roman whips his head back to check on his companion, terrified for his safety. An accident. An error. A condemnation. The attacker sees. And smiles. And runs for Virgil, sword drawn. Roman throws himself across the fire into the line of attack, in between Virgil and this monster. His sword is swinging forward, desperate to block, trying to protect, and it’s almost enough. Almost. The attacker is quicker. Their sword slices through the air, almost reaching Virgil. Almost. Roman arrives in the nick of time, his sword held out and his face furious, sweat dripping and freezing under his layers, torn and shredded from the fight. Another sword slices forward. Not his. Aimed at Virgil’s heart. Interrupted by Roman’s body. A blade protruding from his stomach. Roman falls. The attacker laughs. Roman drops his sword. Virgil picks it back up, rightly pissed. The foe laughs harder. Virgil stabs the sword clean through their skull. They go down. Roman does not get back up.

When the sky turns gray And everything is screaming I will reach inside Just to find my heart is beating

Roman watches the clouds soaring overhead, dotting over the pale blue sky as the sun sinks. Something is yelling, a vague shout that barely reaches his ears. His mind isn’t racing—rather, it’s puttering along like a snail, turning over each individual thought carefully before gently moving on to the next. Something about a village, a lake, snow, a fight, and Virgil. Roman blinks, watching the sky turn more grey with the dying sun. Whatever that yelling is, it’s incredibly loud, while also almost dull to his ears. Just another sound. Briefly, Roman registers something painful in his core, but he’s more focused on the cold down there, almost like someone poured water over him to let it freeze on his bare stomach. Another voice yells, his own, but inwardly, begging him to focus, to listen, to pay attention. He blinks a few more times, preferring to remain in this dreamlike state, where he doesn’t have to think about why, exactly, he’s in pain, or why the sky is fading away. The voice grows more insistent, pleading and angry and desperate. With no small amount of resignation, Roman gives in. “—it you jerk, you said we couldn’t get hurt in here!” Virgil’s voice finally breaks through the fog. “You swore we’d be fine and you fucking lied and I don’t know what to do so could you just answer me?” Roman groans a little, lifting a hand in the air. Something warm engulfs it, squeezing tightly. “Roman, thank God, can you get up? I need to get you back to the village, someone there can help, I’m sure of it.” The words go in one ear and out the other as Roman settles his other hand on his stomach, something cold protruding out of it. “I know I’m not supposed to take it out since that just makes the bleeding worse but I don’t know if I can get you back to the village in time for them to help you—” Virgil is babbling, panicking more by the second. Roman grabs feebly at his red sash, wrapped around his outermost coat. Virgil seizes it like a lifeline, desperately wrapping Roman’s wound with it to staunch the flow. With some kind of strength that neither knew he had, Virgil gets Roman onto his back, stumbling back the way they came, to the village in the distance. He continues muttering to himself about how this was supposed to be safe, he wasn’t supposed to be able to get hurt, but it’s too quiet for Roman to register as his mind floats away, unconcerned with the folly of two boys on a cold mountain path. The only thing anchoring him is the soft beating of a drum, rare and small, but still present, still there. He vaguely registers it as his pulsing heart, but not enough to worry about it. Not enough to fear how rapidly it slows. Roman considers the sky above them, its greying color twin to that of the snow below them. He never realized how quickly Virgil could move when he needed to. He wondered if it would be quick enough. He hoped that Virgil wouldn’t have to suffer the consequences of Roman not making it. He imagined that would be far worse than what Roman was going through himself. Virgil runs faster.

Oh, you tell me to hold on Oh, you tell me to hold on But innocence is gone And what was right is wrong

“Please stay with me Roman, we’re almost there, I promise,” Virgil says, his legs trembling beneath him. Even with the adrenaline of the moment, he knows he can’t hold out forever, carrying Roman like this, but at least the village is in sight. That mayor, Lena or whoever, surely she’s seen this before, surely she’ll know what to do. Roman has grown limp on Virgil’s back. Virgil runs faster. He begins bargaining with the prince, offering anything he can think of if Roman would just stay awake. His headphones, a positive outlook, more help in the future, less snarky comments, his sick nasty Tim Burton poster, anything if Roman can just hold on. Roman’s breathing slows. Virgil runs faster. Nowhere near soon enough for Virgil’s liking, he begins the final descent down the mountain, his tracks remaining visible in the thinning snow as the village looms ahead. Virgil runs faster. His feet pound into snow, then dirt, then pavement, not as fast as his heart. The prim houses grow as he gets closer, Roman too limp for his liking. “Someone help!” Virgil calls desperately into the streets. He wobbles on unstable legs, searching for anyone. The whole town appears abandoned. Roman is silent. Virgil stumbles his way to the mayor’s house, or the one he assumes to be it, given the similarity of every goddamn building in this town. Nailed to the front door is a piece of paper in curly script, fluttering gently in the wind. Virgil grows more hopeless as he reads it. Welcome back, Roman and Virgil! We’re so glad you could help with our situation, but it would appear some of the gang members returned to do more damage. Accordingly, we have fled over the plains to avoid them, but there is a handsome sum waiting in the town hall for you. Thanks again! Sincerely, Lena and the townspeople. Virgil tears the letter from the door and crushes it under his feet, watching the ink bleed to the edges from the snow under his boot. With two well-placed kicks, he breaks the lock and forces the door open, depositing Roman on a table by the entrance. The sun disappears under the horizon outside, taking with it the warmth of day. Virgil slams the door shut and collapses into a chair by Roman. What he wouldn’t give for telepathy among the sides. He pulls a phone from the pocket of his jeans, ready to send a text, but no dice—the freezing mountains drained his battery completely. Virgil slips a careful hand into Roman’s layers, feeling around for the prince’s phone. Nothing, nothing, nothing, something in his shirt pocket—the phone. Virgil yanks it out, his thumbprint bypassing the lock easily—the sides were all from the same person, why even bother having a passcode? He shoots off a message to Logan and Patton, pleading for them to get to Roman’s room immediately. Virgil doesn’t even know if this will work, as no one has ever been to Roman’s room for an adventure besides him, and for all he knew Roman had to be present to get the sides to the quest. For all Virgil knew, Logan and Patton would open a door to an empty room and assume a joke had been played, laughing off Virgil’s fear. He sends another message, just in case. Roman doesn’t move.

When the hour is nigh And hopelessness is sinking in And the wolves all cry To fill the night with hollering

Virgil watches the moon lift into the sky, bathing the houses outside in a white glow. No response from the other two sides, but the message says delivered. He can only hope at this point. Virgil props his elbow up on the table beside Roman to rest his chin on his fist, fighting to stay awake, to not let Roman slip away from him. He clasps the prince’s hand tightly, feeling the warmth leaking out of it by the second. Outside, noises clatter, echoing through the empty streets and amplifying Virgil’s fear. That stupid note, telling him that the gang returned, was really not what he needed to see. Their possible presence, maybe even in this house, is the only thing keeping Virgil from flicking the lights on, from starting a fire or a candle or something, lest it give the pair away. Raucous laughter burns his ears, swelling and diminishing as dark figures pass the house, never pausing to investigate the shadows camped out inside. Virgil’s heart sinks as tears leak from his eyes, dripping down his cheeks and making their intertwined hands ever colder. Something looms outside the window, its presence foreboding and worrying Virgil that much more. He crouches under the table, praying that his shadow will look like nothing more than an abandoned bag, that Roman’s prone form will just look like decorations, something that can be ignored instead of attacked. The shape outside gets closer, closer, too close, near enough to tap the window. Just as Virgil is about to pick Roman up and sneak further into the house, the form backs up from the window, moving calmly down the street. Virgil thanks his lucky stars in the sky outside. Roman stirs.

When your eyes are red And emptiness is all you know With the darkness fed I will be your scarecrow

“Roman, oh my God, you’re awake, talk to me, please,” Virgil begs, crushing the prince’s hand in his grip. Roman gives a slight cough, wincing as he rests a hand where the blade protrudes. “Virgil,” he gasps, his voice torn and ragged. “I’m right here, come on, Roman.” Water drips down Virgil’s face, splashing onto Roman. Why couldn’t this be like that dumb scene in Tangled, where his emotions fixed his stupid friend? “You need to get through this, tell me how to get back to your room so we can get help.” “Can’t,” Roman gets out, breathing heavily. His eyes crack open, sliding over to Virgil’s tearstained face and shining eyes, pink from crying. “You can’t leave me alone here, how can I help you, please?” Virgil begs, taking Roman’s hand in both of his. “Protect you,” Roman hisses. His voice grows softer. “That’s not good enough!” “Fight for you.” “Roman, I swear I will beat you up when we get out of this stupid quest thing your room forced us into! How do I help you?” “Can’t,” Roman repeats, “can’t can’t can’t can’t.” “If it takes me wringing your neck, you are going to tell me how to get us out of here,” Virgil pleads. “Door.” Door? What door? Three thoughts slam into Virgil at once—they came in through a door in a hill, the door is too far, and he might be too late. Virgil rattles off another text to the sides, worried at their continued absence, while preparing to heave Roman onto his back for the long journey. They’ll never make it. He has to try. Out the door and down the streets, Virgil races between shadows, cowering in fear when the slightest noise creeps up two roads away. Roman has fallen silent. Almost there.

So I bare my skin And I count my sins And I close my eyes And I take it in And I'm bleeding out I'm bleeding out for you, for you.

Roman shudders as Virgil kicks the door in the grassy hill open. “Sorry, sorry!” Virgil squeaks, trying to stabilize himself so as not to disturb the prince. He sidesteps through the door, not bothering to close it behind him before depositing Roman on his neatly made bed. Logan and Patton launch themselves up from their chairs by the door, widening their eyes at the sight of Virgil appearing out of nowhere. “We got your messages, but it was just his room—” “We couldn’t find you and our texts weren’t going through— “What can we do to help—” Logan and Patton trip over themselves in worry before fully understanding the severity of Roman’s situation. The sword disappeared with all the warm layers as Virgil passed through the door, leaving a critically injured Roman without anything to staunch the wound. “Can we conjure something to help him?” Virgil pleads, still holding tightly to the prince’s hand. Patton looks at Logan, unsure of what to do. Logan lifts Roman’s limp wrist, checking the fluttery pulse. Nearly still. “He’s a side, so he won’t actually die,” Logan begins, “but his physical form will be gone. Roman as we know him will be gone, but Thomas won’t just lose his creativity, it will just vanish into an aspect with the others.” “That’s not good enough!” Virgil shouts. “Roman can’t just go, we need him!” “I’m afraid we can’t help him, though,” Logan says apologetically. “We aren’t human, so we can’t exactly get him to a hospital or a doctor or something.” Patton remains silent, his eyes welling up. Roman groans softly, squeezing Virgil’s hand lightly. “Roman, please,” Virgil begs, as Logan and Patton come up behind him. “Stay here, just hold on. Please.” Roman’s grip softens, then completely goes, leaving a cold hand motionless under Virgil’s grasp. Roman shuts his eyes, and slowly vanishes from the bed, his hand a phantom in Virgil’s. Patton sobs. Logan looks at the floor. Virgil screams.

Tag List:

@sakurahayasaki @erlenmeyertrash @lemonpepperpizza @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @milomeepit @leesacrakon

#sanders sides #labhwrites #mine #virgil #roman #logan #patton #bleeding out #blood mention #blood tw #bleeding tw #fighting tw #swearing tw #character death tw #anyway heres some angst whoops #sorry this one is pretty heckin dark my bad #but the song is good highly recommend it #sorry if i overstated the warnings but i really want everyone reading this to be careful and you can never be too careful with that #so hopefully this one was ok #i think i like it better than waves tbh but w/e #gonna be hard for me to beat what/was/missing and taxi/cab im pretty proud of those #also if i talk in the tags about other stories ill probably use slashes and x's now #just so if people are looking for those they dont find the wrong story #idk squad im pretty content with this one i guess but if it sucked hit me up so i dont make this kind of travesty again #a note from labhras after saving as a draft overnight: i liked this better at four am oops

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bisexual-horror-fan · 3 years ago

Note

How about a threesome au of Amber, Reader, and Freddy?

Oh my fucking GOD Anon. This is so massive brained of you to ask, I am shocked, truly SHOCKED, no one has asked for this before. I am so fucking happy you asked for this, like truly, truly, no one has officially asked for Amber like this just UGH. Like I said bisexual culture is reading TMOMD and wanting to fuck both Freddy AND Amber so this will help you live out your dreams, if you pardon the pun. I cannot overstate how into this I am! Sorry it is so long and if it is a bit jumbled, hope you all enjoy it anyway. So lets go in and go off, eh?

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TMOMD Threesome AU Headcannons.

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Rating. Explicit. Length. 5.7K. (I went very, very hard.) Freddy X Amber X GN! Reader. Post TMOMD Threesome AU. Warnings. Everything. Sex. Oral. Knifeplay. Bloodplay. Extreme Kink. Msturbation. Voyurism. Cucking. Dirty Talk. Orgasm Denial. Asking Permission. Creampie. Threesomes. Casual Hookups. Softness. Fluff. Smut. A little angst. It’s got it all.

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-So this is deff an AU because canonically in TMOMD Freddy doesn’t wanna share Amber and she doesn’t wanna BE shared but let’s push that aside and ignore that for the sake of this amazing AU idea.

-How would this start? Obviously you would get with Freddy first. He’d start visiting your dreams in that classic way of his and just as it has with Amber and the others it would turn sexual. How that happens? Same way it does with everyone that the change in context happens to. He feels it. Can feel you want it, have darker desires, see that the chase and the fight isn’t as scary as it is to some, for you, it gives you different feelings.

-So! One night that chase, the hunt, takes a turn, instead of you ending up on the end of his blades, in fear for your life you end up on your knees and back. You of course are very confused but ultimately pleased by this turn of events.

-Visits start to become a regular thing. You have a fantastic time, thoroughly enjoy yourself, but it is ALL physical. There is no deeper level and no rhyme or reason to when he graces you with his presence. He shows up out of the blue in your dreams, fucks the hell out of you, you have your fun and soon as it is over he is gone. You aren’t exactly mad at this cuz I mean hey the sex is good.

-Months of casual visits happen. Until that one night.

-One night you go to bed and it had been a bit since you have seen our favorite bastard and you end up in the boiler room again and you aren’t alone with him. Not tonight. This is where you meet Amber. He is sitting in this chair and Amber is draped across his lap, arms around his neck, leaning into him, looking so right and comfortable. You of course notice right away how attractive she is and take notice of what she is wearing, and it isn’t much.

-You are naturally confused at first until he explains. Amber here is another of his little ‘playmates’ but she is special, she has been around for years at this point, more than proven herself, as he would put it, “A truly remarkable slut.”

-Her reaction to that catches your attention. The fond smile, the kiss she places on his cheek, all “Awe, thanks Fred.” Like it was the sweetest compliment he could give her and Fred? She gets away with calling him Fred. Is in his lap, he is holding her, the casual affection, yeah she is different for sure. With you he is rough and unrelenting, you don’t get this level of softness. Why did you kind of want that level of softness?

-But onto tonight's plans! You learn that Amber likes to watch. Loves that he is with other people and sometimes he treats her to seeing how he is with others and you, yes YOU get to be the lucky star in her voyuristic cucking fantasy for this evening. Something not everyone gets so really you should feel honored.

-It is on a different level that night. It is almost like he is showing off, trying to impress her, and you were into it, weirdly wanting to do the same thing. Well not just impress her but him too. Felt like you had something to prove, show you could be worth it, deserve more than just a good visit from him a few nights a month. Something you didn't know could even be an option till now but Amber was living proof it was possible.

-He wasn’t lying. You kept catching her gaze. She was very into watching. Couldn’t tear her eyes away. Looked like she was seriously trying to commit every second to memory. It was halfway through she asked him, “Can I?” and he was holding your legs open, balls deep in you when he looked at her, telling her, “Surprised you held out this long. Go for it.” Something about that. Him fucking you but looking at her, watching her, got to you.

-How he watched as she pulled away thin sheer material and started touching herself and you looked too and oh my God the view, yeah you got it. Her sitting, feet up on that chair, legs spread and you had no idea where to look. Eyes roaming over long expanses of fair skin, those cute freckles, those piercings, the look in her eyes, how her mouth almost hung open as she moaned and panted, two fingers diving into that frankly delicious looking pink cunt of hers.

-You ended up cumming absurdly hard while looking into her eyes. Well that is how you came the first time, the second was when she started asking him for permission, because she looked and acted like that and still asked for PERMISSION after all this time and that was too hot. He let her have it and then you couldn’t take your eyes off her. That was the first time you got to see her cum and you decided right then and there that you would do everything possible to get to do that to her. To be the reason her back arched and thighs tensed, for your name to be the one she cried out.

-Point is. It was a good fucking night. He really put you to work and you returned every iota of effort and enthusiasm he gave and it showed.

-After he pulled out and came over your stomach you were left on your back, sore and aching, sweating and out of breath as he got up. “Damn. Good work. Real fun time.” The compliment felt far better than it should have when it was so basic. And all you could do was watch as he walked over to her, scooping her up into his arms, “What’d you think shortstack?” He had nicknames for her, how sickeningly adorable, you were lucky when he used your name. Amber was looking at you, sweetest little smile as she said so sincerely, “Amazing. I really like them.”

-You. She liked you. She really liked you. “Yeah?” He almost sounded surprised and she nodded “Mmm. Like em the best so far.” and you felt hope. Sincere hope. “Really? Well that is high praise.” It was. It sure felt like it. Your mind was running wild and you were distracted and then him saying, “See you later.” Brought you back and Amber was giving you a little wave, “Bye!”

-Far too weak to get up, even if you could, what would you do? Go after them? You watched as they went through this door that definitely wasn’t there before, you didn’t see much, just red, a lot of red and the door shut and you woke up with a start in your bed.

-You couldn’t stop thinking about it the next day. It was far too hot. You loved it. Seeing him like that, getting to meet her, you wanted to know more about her, more about him, how they got together, the relationship they had. Curiosity might kill you on this one. Plus the way he fucked you in front of her was somehow even better then when he had you one on one.

-The wait for the next visit was agonizing but not as long as you would have expected.

-You felt so ready. Ready to prove yourself, prove your worth, give it your all. You sucked dick like you never had before, rode with reckless abandon until it felt like your thighs would give out, took any suggestion but took initiative too, tried some new stuff and he took notice. You weren’t kicked out right away like usual. While you were still sitting on him, panting, he was looking up at you, fingers tracing some of the cuts he left on you, smearing blood he said, “I dunno what the fuck got into you tonight but I liked it.”

-Success. You felt proud. Were more sore than you ever had been, woke up with your sheets plastered to you from the mess of your hookup but proud all the same.

-In a month you got to see her again, your efforts paid off from these last several visits. You woke up in the boiler room again and as soon as you saw that long curly red hair and those blue eyes you couldn’t stop the smile that broke out. He used that as an excuse to mock and tease you, “Someone looks real happy to see you Amber.” And she let out the cutest little giggle, twirling a red curl with a manicured finger as she said, “Yeah they do.” Okay so maybe your arousal at seeing her was a bit too obvious but who could blame you?

-That night you didn’t get to touch her. You just were with him again and it was good, so, so good, especially as she made some personal requests that really amped it up between you and him. She could ask for anything in that little teasing way of hers and you’d wanna comply. You imagined he felt the same. She was watching with rapt interest as she asked, “Can I see how deep you can take him?” And by God did you choke yourself on his cock so fast it made your head spin.

-It was when you were done, coming down from your high yet again that she touched you for the very first time. She came over, knelt down, her fingers brushed over your forehead, pushing some of your sweat soaked hair aside, “I really like you. I wanna see you more often.” She said it so sincerely, it almost took your breath away and she looked at Freddy and asked, “Thoughts?” He looked like he considered it for a moment before saying, “I think that could be arranged.”

-You were so happy. So damn happy. Those visits became a bit more frequent, he was alone less and less and you got to see her more and more. She slowly was becoming more and more involved. One night it all changed yet again. He was with you and right after you had cum he pulled out and away from you, she had her arms out, she needed him, begged for him.

-You got to watch. My God for the very first time you got to watch them together. You had seen them curled up, had seen them kiss and share small and basic affection, witnessed the intimacy the two of them had but this? Fuck this was something different.

-The heat behind it when they kissed and how he ripped apart what she was wearing, the way she responded to him being so rough with her. She leaned into every touch and cut, the way he spoke to her, filthy, cruel, some praise mixed in too, and she gave it right back easily, matched him as if it were as easy as breathing. He didn’t clean off what you had left behind on him, still dirty with you he slipped inside her and that was so hot.

-If you weren’t into her before, which you were, then you sure we're now after seeing them together. It was obvious there was history between them, and knew just what to do to get to each other in the worst possible way. It was so good to see, felt like something they didn’t show just anyone, who would have thought watching someone get throat fucked could be so intimate?

-It was like she threw herself into it with her whole being. As if her sole purpose on Earth was to fuck, to please, and you wanted to be on the receiving end of it. Desperately.

-She ended up on top of him, one hand on his stomach as she rode him, you watched as they took their pleasure in each other, how she moaned for him, the way he urged her on, touched her, it was all so good. But then, THEN! There is this moment.

-Her breath hitched and she was looking right at you, eyes met as she breathed out, “I’m close.” Oh my God. “Yeah? C’mon, do it-” And he was dirty talking to her but you weren’t focused on that, you were focused on her, the bite of her lip and the way her brows furrowed, little nod and a whimper, “Mmm gonna cum, fuck-” and you wanted to see her cum over and over. Still wanted to be the reason she did.

-You didn’t think it could get better. Until she climbed off, legs still shaking as she got between his, swallowing him down, tasting the mix of him and her and you. The view was unfairly hot. Getting to see her suck his dick was quite a treat. She went to town. Really knew what she was doing and did not give up until he came down her throat, (seriously did she even HAVE a gag reflex?)

-This became the new trend. He would be with you and then her. Again you did not complain. It was too fun, too hot, you would love to learn what she liked and rile her up, see what got her all hot and then watch her expend that energy on him. It made for great masturbation fuel for yourself.

-A different night it shifted yet again. You woke up to find them already together. It was surprising and arousing, unexpected, you got to watch them, you had come in halfway through, you didn’t complain about getting to watch them together. She was under him, hands on his shoulders, begging for it. Practically panting as she asked, “Fill me, fuck, need it-” He never seemed to make her wait very long when she begged like that. She sounded so pretty you couldn’t fault him for that.

-It was after they untangled themselves that you realized the purpose of you being here. That was the first night you got to play clean up crew. Not on her. You weren’t that lucky. Not yet. But still tasting it on him was a very unexpected treat, she tasted better than you ever dreamed.

-Another night you were teased terribly. Tied down to a chair, Amber in your lap, Freddy had put her there, set her on your thigh, she was grinding down on you, arms around your neck loosely, fingers in your hair. She was so soft, so sweet, sounded amazing, you hated the fact you couldn’t touch her back. She was so wet, head tipping back and she moaned, his name. Ugh it made you want to groan in sheer frustration. She was riding your thigh but moaning his damn name. She was getting close, tugging on your hair, eyes shut tight and you couldn’t wait, even if she was saying his name she was about to cum on you, not him-

-Or so you thought. He pulled her away and had her on the floor in front of you.

-It goes on like this for longer than you would like to admit. It is fun to tease you, they can’t help it. And while yeah you’ve been enjoying it you need more.

-So the very best way to get in between the two of them, to get to them, is through the other. That is how the door opens.

-Amber took notice of how you treated Freddy. How you took direction, how enthusiastic you were, that you gave to him so readily just like she did. She loved him and liked to see you treat him well.

-Same hat for him. While you didn’t get to do much he took notice of how you treated her. You never pushed boundaries, you took whatever she gave, said such nice things about her, and of course, were insanely into her, he saw how you looked at her.

-One night, one amazing night, you were allowed to join in. You got to touch her, got to finger her, kissing was off limits but you got your fill with your hands. You took such care, had been paying close attention to what he did with her, you might have felt nervous with him watching you, especially with that glove on the back of your neck but you didn’t, all you did was watch her, feel her. It was all worth it when you made her cum on your fingers. Never wanted to forget that image.

-After that she wanted more. The very next time she asked to touch you. And so it went, it all started to escalate a bit faster. Hand stuff to oral and oral to being much more physically involved when he and her hooked up or you and he did. Again the more Freddy or Amber saw how well you treated the other kept pushing it along.

-Threesomes. At this point get ready for the threesomes.

-First time you get to be the one to fuck Amber is just-insane? Totally insane. Could barely deal with it, essentially you were instructed on what to do, which was nice, having him tell you just what to do freed up your mind to take it all in, commit the feeling, the view, the sound of her to memory.

-You adore making her squirt, Freddy loves showing you just how to do it, he is so encouraging and it is a massive ego boost.

-They are both just very into cumplay and cum sharing in general.

-This is when you actually get to kiss them. Yeah you have been seeing them and doing all this, had sucked and fucked the rest without getting to kiss them. You might have gotten off on that a bit too hard by the way, that they had you almost every way possible, had made you cum over and over until they kissed you.

-With Freddy, naturally, it was in the heat of the moment, messy, lots of tongue, made you nearly cum right there. Amber it was softer, sweeter, you were coming down with her after a particularly good session and it made you melt.

-But the threesomes! Every angle, configuration, positioning you could think of. Even some you couldn’t think of on your own. Honestly Amber and Freddy are having trouble with it simply because this is so good and WHY did they never do this sooner? Being balls deep in Amber while you used your tongue on her clit was one of his favorites, the way it made her clench around him was fantastic. One of hers was having her hands on you, helping you move while you rode him.

-Freddy and Amber love to gang up on you. The hierarchy goes like this, Freddy, Amber, you on the very bottom. But for those two you do not mind bottoming.

-Any and all kinks you like are on the fucking table.

-Amber is using a strap-on at some point on you. Preferably multiple times.

-Do you like oral? I sure as shit hope so because it is both of their favorite things and they are gonna spoil you with it.

-They are both Bi and are into just all of it. You got a dick? You got a pussy? Either way is a-okay and opens so many doors for them.

-They are SO invested in getting you off and your pleasure, any buck wild fantasy you have? They are gonna make your dreams come true. You can do anything in dreams after all. You don’t hold back and they love the variety you bring to the table.

-Denial. They love getting you off but hey both of them are SUPER into denial too and it will happen.

-One night you wake up to Freddy and no Amber in sight. That night he tells you that you and he are gonna team up on her. That night is one of your favorites. It’s the first night Amber cries in front of you, she looks so pretty when she cries, you get the appeal Freddy is always going off about. Her sobbing from how good it feels, overwhelmed with feeling, it was quite the rush.

-You did so good that a few more of those nights got to happen, lucky, lucky you.

-Soon you were hanging out longer and longer post-sex. Actually having a conversation, it was a weird feeling but a good one. Felt nice.

-During one such conversation you realized that you lived within visiting distance of Amber. She would brighten so much at that, “Oh my God! We should totally meet up!”

-Seeing her in person, outside of the boiler room and these dreams? Seeing her in person? What would that be like? You jumped at the chance. Made plans to get lunch.

-Was it a date? You had no idea. It was probably a bad idea to hope for that. When she showed up you had second thoughts. She looked great. So cute, dress and heels and makeup done, you hadn’t seen her with makeup yet.

-She was sweeter than you realized. Talkative, nice, funny, she also seemed so normal. I mean you only saw her in such a depraved setting, doing some of the most utterly filthy things imaginable. But here she was across from you asking about what you did for work and if you wanted to share an order of bruschetta.

-Long and the short of it is. You clicked.

-Also you thought about the fact that you had your tongue in her cunt earlier that week but didn't even know her job or last name. You knew here on such a deep vulnerable level few people did but didn't know some of the most basic things about her. You shouldn't get off on it as much as you do.

-Lunch turned to shopping and turned to dinner and to drinks and when you finally parted she told you that it was “So much fun! We have to do this again!”

-Hangouts with Amber became more common. You and her began to get closer, actually become friends.

-Seeing her at least once a week, doing something like having her sit on your face while Freddy fucked into you and then the next day meeting up to get ice cream in the park with her, while you could still make out the hickie he had left on her neck.

-One night you woke up and weren’t in the boiler room. You were in a very different room. Shades of red and in an absurdly soft bed sunken into the floor, and you weren’t alone. They were right there. Turns out that this was a room that was just for the two of them. You had been fucking around with them for well over year and half (yes it takes this long to get to this point) and they deemed you fun enough, special enough to get to be in this room with them.

-Things get even better, Really pick up from here. You are brought along more and more often, don’t really meet him one on one anymore, now you get to have both at least two blissful nights a week.

-Around here you find out more about them. They see each other every night, even if it is just for five minutes they see each other every single night. You find out how they started seeing each other, that she was the one to seek him out, their set up quite similar to yours and his, without specifics that they went through quite a rough time and after that they made the switch to seeing each other every night. You wondered if you would ever get to that point.

-Months and months of getting to be in the playroom of them had led to more intimacy. One night Amber and you were both as stripped down as ever, in bed and on your sides and you were looking her over. Taking in the sights. You had learned recently that the piercings she wore were designed and gifted by him. That necklace she wore was too, the one that mirrored his glove, after starting to see her in real life she only wore it in here. You focused on that tattoo on her hip, heart drawn in red and green lines and you asked softly, “You got it for him, right?”

-She had this coy sort of smile on her face, wouldn’t look at you as she said, “Now whatever would make you say that? I just like hearts. And the colors red and green.” An unconvinced hum from you as you decided to let it go. “Sure, Amber.”

-Next you looked at all those cuts, the scars littering her skin. All placed there by him. The main one you found yourself coming back to again and again is that capital F carved on her collarbone. You touched it, traced it without thinking, “He’s hurt you so many times.” She laughed and playfully nudges you, “Like he hasn’t done the same. Check yourself out, you’re catching up.” She was right. And you liked that.

-It keeps on going and going. You get closer and closer to them. Closer to Freddy but mostly closer to Amber.

-The feelings hit out of nowhere. After months and months of getting to have both of them, being invited into that special private room it hits.

-You and Amber had a late night, dinner, drinks, you ended up back at her place. You had been invited back several times at this point, you love her apartment, love getting to share her bed, no one else, not even him, gets to share her bed (forget about the fact it is basically impossible for him too, dream demon and all that but STILL-) and you get up the next day.

-Sitting at that little table with the two chairs on her balcony, having coffee and pastries she bought yesterday that she warmed up in the oven, surrounded by the plants and flowers she grew herself. Paper spread on the table, both of you trying to decide on what to do for the day, you were leaning farmers market, she wanted to get stuff to make you dinner tonight but that was forgotten for now.

-She was reading from a book of poetry she picked up recently, reading out a poem that she said made her think of you. It all hit. You were in her personal garden, she was reading a poem (cuz she liked poetry, you knew her well enough now to know that-) that made her think of you, she thought of you enough to be reminded of you even when you weren’t present. She had one hand on her mug, the other on that book, reading it to you in the early morning light, her hair still messy from sleep, in only that thin silk robe and you said it.

-"I love you.”

-It made her stop reading. A beat. Tension. Nerves. How would she take it? She had this soft smile, she set the book down, leaving it open, she took your hand and her thumb stroked over the back of your hand and she said in the sweetest tone possible. “Duh.” It broke the tension. It was so you guys. The way you and her and Freddy were, all so light and jokey. You both laughed, harder than you should have. She was still snickering as she picked up the book again, “Anyway as I was saying! To be with you-” she was still holding your hand as she read the poem and you felt warm.

-Amber loves to spoil you. So much. Your hangouts were more and more like dates. One day you showed up for dinner and she looked so good and complimented her and she said, “Oh I am so glad you like it! I was out and saw this dress and remembered you saying it was your favorite color-” and Jesus fuck she was buying clothes in colors you liked.

-Let her dress you up. Do you like getting your nails done? PLEASE let Amber take you to get your nails done. If you tell her to pick what you get done she will die. “Can we get matching ones? I know, so corny, but like imagine when we hook up with him later, hands wrapped around-” and yeah okay you saw the appeal.

-One night when you and Amber have a lot of drinks, are in her apartment, you are in her bed, making out and touching and you think you might actually get to-She stops you. Pulls away, you are confused but she tells you, “In your dreams.” You let out a small shocked laugh, “Only?” She nods, “Only. That a problem?” She only wants to fuck all together? Well fine, she was allowed to have her boundaries and you wouldn’t say no. “Besides. We can do other things.” Other things meant mutual masturbation while talking each other up while watching each other and it was so fun that yeah fuck it you could get behind it.

-She also opens up more after your little confession. Tells you about her history and past, her family, part of why love is so tricky for her, love in her house, in her family, in her community was extremely conditional, loving romantically isn’t easy for her. She is appreciative of your understanding and patience that you show her.

-So thing about Freddy and Amber is that they didn’t typically say I love you verbally. She would a bit more but not much. They were much more actions kind of people. She would show it with that look in her eyes as she ran her tongue up the blades of his glove and he would show it when he tugged on her hair with a hand on her throat and a million other ways.

-The way she showed it to you was one night, it was late, you had a rough day, she ran a bath. Let you sit in the tub with her, letting you lean against her, she listened to you vent and rubbed your shoulders and when she said hushed in the low light, “I’m here for you.” You realized that this. All of this was how she said it.

-The night he showed it was a big deal. “I see you lookin’. You want one of your own?” He offered to carve into you the way he did with her. It was huge, you knew it was, if Amber’s reaction was anything to go by. You did want that. You wanted to be like her, wanted to be marked, this was massive.

-You ask their opinion one where to get it and that makes them smile so much. You were such a good fit for them.

-Now where do you want it? If you want it in a public place they will suggest getting it on the opposite side that Amber has hers, on your own collarbone.

-Private? They suggest a place just for them, their own eyes only, they think on your hip. Either or is fine with them.

-The act of it happening is the most intimate moment with them by far. She holds you as he does it, he cuts deep, it hurts, you cry, she comforts you and kisses your tears away and tells you “This is just the first time. If you want it to be like mine we are gonna have to do this again and again.” He confirmed that to be true.

-It hits as you look at him that this is how he says I love you. The act of claiming you, the recommitment of it, marking you over and over, the choice to pick you again and again, like Amber had done with him before. That is when you say it. Quiet and tear stained, “I love you.” it was almost like a broken question, disbelief.

-Similar to what happened with Amber he was smiling and with a scoff and a roll of his eyes he said “Yeah you and everyone else.” Amber laughed so hard she snorted and smacked him on the shoulder, “You fuckin’ dick!” “What?!” he was laughing too now, “They open themselves up, tell you they love you and you pull that shit!” That is when you say “Like you are so much better little Miss.Duh.”

-Amber and Freddy haven’t experienced this kind of shit other than with each other basically. Amber is very independent and isn’t one for romantic love, it’s only ever been Freddy and that hit very unexpectedly and out of nowhere, took her a long time to reckon with those feelings so you should feel really special that you have been chosen to be let into this twosome.

-The way she sighs your name so dreamily when you are in her arms post-fuck is your favorite way she says it. The way he spits it at you mid-sex like he hates you is your fave way he says it.

-Your feelings about all of it are complicated but that is fine with you. Life is complicated, when you were physically with them it was good, you didn't question much, just indulged.

-You are in it now. So it isn’t JUST about the sex anymore. It is about a hell of a lot more than that but the sex is still at the forefront and is fantastic. A few other things change.

-After this you get included in on birthday celebrations, something that was a big deal and kept just between them before, you were told about how they changed that for each other, made them both like their respective birthdays again and you respected it but now that you got to be in on it? Amazing. They spoiled the hell out of you on yours.

-Fridays used to be just for them. They were adamant on that, you accepted it. You got ready for bed that night, ready to dream alone but you woke up to them, confused, “Isn’t it Friday?” and they both shared a look and she said, “Yeah it is, that’s why you are here. It’s date night, right?” And Freddy agreed, “Yeah you hit your head or something? You good?”

-You were better than good. You were perfect.

How would it end? If it ever does? Amber has never and will never want marriage or kids. If you do then it simply won’t last forever because she can’t give that to you, and Freddy? Yeah as if. Part of why they work so well is being on the same page about that. There is the other fact too, that they were always destined to end tragically.

Amber is mortal. She will die eventually. As will you. Even if you do stick around it is gonna end eventually, how long you stick around it is up to you basically. Keep in mind that the only thing that would hold him back is Amber, if you do try to untangle yourself you better do it delicately and carefully so she will support you and stop him from doing anything. Freddy doesn’t take rejections or ‘break-ups’ well.

Enjoy it for as long as you want. Just be careful. They won’t let you go easily.

#TMOMD AU #Freddy Krueger x Reader #Amber Cottrell #BHF asks #BHF writing #I LOVE THIS #THANK YOU #It was literally consuming my thoughts today at work no lie #Happy to get this out #Enjoy #I went so hard #my God I love these two #My new fave request?#I AM DYING #PLEASE #Request more shit like this #MORE AMBER

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tonya-the-chicken · 3 years ago

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I’m not going to change your views but it does feel a bit dismissive when you say it wasn’t that bad because he had rich parents who neglected him but hey they got a maid for him and he probably wasn’t outcasted or bullied so hey it’s not that bad right 🤷‍♀️! I don’t know he definitely didn’t have the worse out of the villains but I don’t know it felt a bit dismissive is all. Although we need to all remember these are fictional characters so have no idea why the other anon needed to get so aggressive! Also the person in the notes I don’t know how to say it but uh the whole the Todoroki’s had a rich father they didn’t have to work a day in their life take is not a good look. Just because someone has parents with money it doesn’t derail the fact that neglect can cause trauma.

Anyways for the real reason I sent this, you wonder why Dabi is so insane. Well take into account the neglect alongside the fact that he burnt to near death up on that hill alone at the age of what 13? That’s got to be extra traumatising, especially for a child that was already not mentally ok. We also don’t know what his circumstances were like after that fire, like was he homeless? Or picked up by someone nefarious? Kind of like AFO(not him exactly but someone nasty) who maybe fed on his brewing anger and hate instead of positive healing. I’m sure we will find out at some point? I don’t think it was just what happened in the Todoroki household or the fire that broke his mind? There had to be other factors after the fire after his “death”!

[[WARNING!!! I love Dabi as a character but I am not a woobifier so if you are too much into him don't read!!!! No complaints taken, y'all will be blocked for being rude I am too old to deal with people unable to interact with me in good faith (anon it's not for you, you are good and I can't understand your point of view I am just not as good as a person and too old for that shit)]]

I don't think I will change my mind either but I feel like the belief that every trauma is equally bad is just... Simply wrong. Like, we can legit compare this stuff and how badly it affects our brain, what do y'all think psychologists research 🤷‍♀️ Like, your therapist won't tell you this because it's not their job to make you understand you not the centre of the Earth (and it won't help because it is a legit trauma response that is very valid but is annoying you're fucking 25 yo). And to say that, neglectful parenthood is probably the worst parenthood style, as far as I know XD I wrote coursework about this (neglectful bitches are having a lot of need to make us the biggest victims (the bitches is me))... It also feels really American to me? Like, are we going to pretend people who got to live in a nice house and were neglect somehow got it as bad as people living in poverty or warzones? Hello? Imagine telling some orphan "I know you have no parents but actually, my trauma of my father not spending enough time with me is just as severe as yours". Bruh couldn't be me sorry... Like, even taking into account the fact that we can have weaker or stronger nervous systems or be more prone to depressive episodes *looks in the mirror and cries* I simply wouldn't find the guts to say my trauma is as severe as idk people who had physically abusive parents or no parents at all or who were disowned for being gay

And like **again** I am not saying that neglect is not traumatic I WAS NEGLECTED THIS IS TRAUMATIZING AS FUCK. I just am living in a country at war and with lots of discrimination problems and I like... Can't say I am the biggest victim. Sorry I can't though there were times when I was a lot more bitchy especially before being in therapy so I understand where you are coming from and I know what I am saying won't resonate with everyone (it's ok go on your own healing journey I believe in you) but this doesn't mean it is garbage and won't help me or someone else... I've already talked once about it but as a person, I am very easily irritated and envious and really not your local Jesus and partially my trauma turned me like this so being more humble about my sufferings helps me not be a complete bitch (believe me or not but people with traumas and mental illnesses are often insufferable *looks in the mirror* not me though I am perfect... BUT IT IS OK TO BE INSUFFERABLE OK??? like, bitch, that's normal. That's normal to stink when you are depressed it's ok to be a bitch when you are hurting. Forgive yourself because I forgive you (when you are not being an abusive asshole but if you apologize and explain yourself I will forgive that too)

The reason why I talk about the fact he is rich is that I've got a disease called leftism and I am a person of several marginalized identities and since this fandom LOVES looking at characters like real humans, I looked at Dabi this way. And if Dabi was a real human, I wouldn't sympathize with him one bit. I would fucking hate him for being the biggest entitled asshole who commits crimes for the reason his Daddy didn't give him attention. Bitch, my Dad didn't give me attention either! But somehow I don't kill people! And I don't even have money!!!! But like... I am not denying that neglectful parents are not a problem. It is. But he is overreacting, bro. He needs to humble down and recognize the fact he is a fucking idiot (he is). He has inherently so much more resources to recover and heal himself than I had... Yes, I am just being jealous at this point but honestly. Making an entire country suffer for you is not a good thing and y'all need to stop using trauma and mental illness as an excuse for people. No! Being abusive to people because of neglect is not valid, is overreacting and you had no reason to do that. I am dismissing your trauma because you are exaggerating it to make me sympathize with your asshole behaviour. I won't judge people with different sets of standards as I judge myself

I bet it would be dismissive and bad if I said it in conversation with someone who is currently struggling with mental health and is not a murderer. But guess what! I don't talk with humans and my friends the same way I talk on my Tumblr about fictional characters 🤷‍♀️ Not to mention I don't have rich friends akabsksbxm

I think with Dabi there's this whole thing where we saw him at 14 (poor baby boy) and 24 (a grown-ass boy) and... Like, I am so sorry for 14 years old Touya not receiving the help he needs (bruh so relatable) but I am not gonna act like 24 years old bitch can't get his ass to a psychiatrist (extremely unrelatable and infuriating). We shouldn't apply the same standards to kids and adults. We can talk all day long about how society is bad and how our parents ruined us but at some points, you gotta take your life into your own hands and do something and be an adult. And it's fucking hard when you're born with a shitty brain that was fucked up by your parents even more in a society where no one gives a fuck but I sincerely don't know another way to live. You will feel bad and want to die but you either keep on recovering or keep on getting worse and at this point getting worse is Dabi's *choice* That's how I live, that's my framework and I am, of course, extremely fortunate in a lot of ways but I just don't know how are you supposed to survive without the notion that grown people are responsible for themselves and their mental health. We can't act like adults are babies

But as a character, Dabi is fucking hot ngl. Like, do I sometimes want to murder my entire family, make them suffer AND commit terrorist attacks? We all do. Dabi is the dark fantasy of us neglectful bitches craving some attention. Gotta kill the president and tell everyone that my Dad sucks. Imagine the entire country hearing your Dad sucks? That's the juice, that's the dream. Trauma makes you vicious. I get the sentiment. Imagine all those fuckers who made you feel like shit pissing their pants and crying? Imagine your Mom being afraid of you the way you used to be afraid of her? People do have the desire for some violent justice but like... Think of bullied kids committing school shootings. But instead of a kid, it's a grown man who graduated school and who also have a rich father

Ok too much about irl stuff and philosophy shit. I know my way of talking is kinda brute so just know the way I treat people is different from that I treat fictional characters, in particular, I don't call real-life humans submissive and breedable... And stuff...

Damn Dabi is kinda good to project your hatred of your parents in bruh, I should write a fanfic about that (would be cathartic)

To the plotline, I am also very interested in what the hell happened with him after burning because... How the hell he wasn't found? I kind of DON'T want him to be groomed at this point because I feel like it won't be as cool as him just more naturally evolving into what he became. Like, surely, he is an asshole but consider this: as a villain, he is morally obligated to be an asshole

I feel like someone hiding him and Touya overstating the gruesomeness of his living conditions to the dude so he feels *bad* for him and hides him and feels sympathy and Touya gets attention but also begins to reassure himself in the fact his Dad needs to be punished... Idk it's a lot of mystery but I feel like more suffering won't deliver the point the way I want it... I mean it CAN be handled this way and initially I thought a lot about Dabi being brainwashed a bit or having his memories altered so it seems worse to him or even him being groomed or lied too but nowadays I am not into it. I mean I believe in Horikoshi and that he will handle him well 🛐

I talk a lot so I will summarize

If we judge him as a real human

14 yo Touya - DID NOTHING WRONG IN HIS LIFE PROTECT HIM

24 yo Dabi - go fuck yourself bitch you older than me and act like a child and kill people, I couldn't care less about your trauma rich boy

If you want me to talk as his psychologist

Yeah, it is painful and sad, I understand him so much and surely, his trauma is valid as is his hatred but probably revenge won't bring him what he wants. And what he wants is love and attention. But he gotta make choices that will lead to his healing. He needs to *want* to heal. And we will step by step go to the healing because it is possible. He is loved and he is enough. AND YOU ALL MOTHERFUCKERS WILL HEAL I BELIEVE IN YOU BESTIES

Also his therapist (behind his back)

You won't believe it but my client is the most infantile attention whore I've ever met

But if we talk about him as a character... Very delicious soup

If you talk with your friends

Please, if your friends are being abusive to you or someone else don't even LET them say how their trauma made them this way. No. Nothing allows you to be an abuser. Call them out and stop them and make them talk to the therapist. Like, surely, there are extreme situations like severe mental illnesses or extreme neglect where we should be more forgiving but babying adults won't do you any good and won't make them recover

Yeah, I guess this is what I forgot to say. When I say "it wasn't that bad" what I mean is that I would be more forgiving to people who had it worse. It's more of a personal measure where I can tolerate stuff from people who had particular traumas or from those who suffered greatly (it's not my place to be a bitch here). I can forgive 14 years old or a poor person for stealing stuff but not the 25-year-old man who got no need for money and is not a kleptomaniac. I would be more forgiving to Shigaraki than to Dabi because Shigaraki was groomed a whole lot. Same for Toga, who is not even an adult or Twice who is a poor orphan. But that doesn't mean I would forgive them completely. All of them are shitty people. It's just that they had fewer resources and possibilities to not be what they became while Dabi had more but he acts like he is extremely hurt and the biggest victim which is like... There will be people like this in your life, please, don't make friends with them, they WILL abuse you

I talked a lot damn. It's adhd I can't shut up

#asks #bnha #bnha manga spoilers #todoroki touya #bnha dabi #killing people is a legit coping mechanism #I mean I possibly do sound dismissive I am very brute in my talking but I really can't be bothered #all I am saying that I am not dismissing neglect what I am dismissing is the idea that is is bad enough to justify Dabi's reaction #neglect was bad Dabi's reaction is disproportionate though #you. don't get to kill people because your Dad didn't love you #you do get to kill people if those people killed your family #just so you understand #I got tired of talking

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huacheng-zhu · 4 years ago

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ok so 2ha. vague spoilers ahead (important spoilers are warned but watch out)

that’s a solid 4.5/5 for me. this novel RUINED me and I loved it for it. it made me feel like very few novels (and even stories in general) did. today I’m STILL shaken over a part of it that I read two days ago, despite the happy ending. I have A Lot of thoughts (shout-out to @whateverwuxian who can testify that I couldn’t shut up about it, love you buddy!!) so I just went ahead and [gestures below]

starting with the negative so we can enjoy all the positive later. feel free to discuss but I’m extra sensitive and these are only my personal feelings so they probably won’t change anyway, so be nice please!

what I didn't like:

too many r*pe scenes. I get that the non-con """makes sense""" narratively and thematically but like. they didn't have to be explicit. at the very least not all of them. sorry but too much is too much. there are more non-con sex scenes/flashbacks than consensual sex scenes! stop! we get it! enough now!

not a fan of a 26yo falling in love with a 16yo. if cwn had initiated Anything I would’ve thrown the novel out the window. but thankfully it didn’t happen, I got invested, and nothing mutual happened until mo ran was 22, so I mostly got over it, but I’m still somewhat uncomfortable with it for very personal reasons.

their first time putting it in. it felt so unfair and I was very upset over it. it could’ve worked without going There? why. was that necessary. and it's heartbreaking for both of them, because mo ran didn't want to do it either. he wanted them to take all their time. he wanted to go step by step. all he wanted was to make sure cwn would be happy and comfortable and never hurt again in bed. for their first time that way he wanted it to be special. but it was just. taken away from them, and for what? for nothing there’s absolutely no reason for it. I get there’s the metaphorical foreshadowing of the upcoming reveal aspect (spoilers) both of them not consenting, mo ran being horrified -> the reveal that mo ran was cursed and so would’ve never wanted to treat cwn like this in the past either if he’d had control (end spoilers) but still?? and it’s never brought up again? I know they don’t get the time until the very end but hhhh. yeah I have Feelings over this

some plot twists hit good emotionally but had no point? thinking of the one about xue meng here.

there’s horny, and then there’s mo ran. it’s not a bad thing, it’s just not the kind of stuff I like reading about and book 1 and 2 are A Lot on that side so in book 2 after a while ME, THE BIGGEST ASEXUAL WHO COULDN’T CARE LESS ABOUT SEX SCENES, WAS LIKE, “oh my god have mercy please just fuck already I beg of you” and indeed they chilled a bit after that. like they were still horny but. less intensely and less all the fucking time. thank god (I still think the farm arc was hilarious to witness though, and I did love it)

kinda wish their reunion at the end was longer and more emotional but that’s just because I love that shit

(spoilers) kinda wish we got to see shi mei again before he went off doing his blind wandering doctor stuff. a talk with ranwan would’ve been very interesting. (end spoilers)

xue meng didn’t get a hug

that one thing at the end you know the one. maybe I'd be more into it if it'd been given time to be explored seriously and wasn't played off as a joke. it kinda ruined the mood of their last scene for me. (spoilers spoilers spoilers this is the end of this section if you don’t want to get spoiled) in that scene I wanted chu wanning to ride off into the sunset with mo ran, not txj. like, txj is the alternate world’s “if there had been no transmigration” version of mo ran 2.0. the whole point is that mo ran IS txj in book 1, but changes and becomes mo ran 2.0. mo ran 2.0, who by the end of the novel has already done all the redemption and deconstruction of his dubious habits. who he was as txj is long behind him. at this point txj will always be a part of who he was, but they are pretty much two 'different' people now. txj disappearing into dust after everything that happens at the end was beautiful symbolism. it meant something. to me there was no point keeping txj around after all that other than for “haha split personalities fighting over cwn’s attention uwu” THAT SAID the fact I'm not a fan of the idea doesn't mean I don't like txj. I care txj a lot and have Emotions over him, and I will definitely eventually explore this in my writing

(still spoilers) the demonic blood reveal was a bit.... deus ex machina? plus I personally would've preferred mo ran staying a regular person (end spoilers)

alright what I liked now:

the themes, both regarding the characters and the various plot elements. this novel really challenges your morals and what you think is right or wrong, what’s redeemable, what’s punishable, and how much one relies on first impressions, amongst other things. this novel is the definition of “don’t judge a book by its cover” but also “look further than the first page” in so many ways

the romance. like I don’t need to say anything there. just, the slow burn, the longing, the yearning, the romance [clutches heart]

the plot twists/reveals. I’m so glad I was barely spoiled (I was spoiled two Big things but very vaguely so I was still surprised) because pretty much all of them had me shouting “WHAT” and/or gaping and/or various “what the fuck!!!”/”holy SHIT”/“NO” reactions

the way a lot of those reveals just completely change your view on things/characters?? that’s my jam

wontons. that was the first time I cried and my first very physical reaction to an event in this novel. I literally felt like time froze. I heard my heart beating. it was painful but AMAZING.

might be nothing in the grand scheme of things but honestly, all the food! I love that mo ran is an excellent cook and can make all those delicious dishes for cwn. as someone who loves to cook for their loved ones I think it’s so lovely that he gets to do that

the character growth. for everyone, but mo ran in particular? like I just. I started off not liking mo ran very much, straight up despising him at times, and in the end I was fucking sobbing over him and cried myself to sleep only to wake up in the middle of the night to cry some more so there’s that

chu wanning? there were aspects of him that I related to heavily, and that felt both like the Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known and very special because it doesn’t happen to me that often

the whole deaging arc. that was deaging done right and it had a purpose in the narrative and their relationship growth, I was “!!!!”

I LOVE how they took their time with EVERYTHING once they got together? that it spanned over several weeks? that it started with the confession, then just holding hands, then kissing, then making out, then sex, and even the sex was step by step! it said A LOT about mo ran’s character growth and it respected SO MUCH the fact that cwn is a 32yo (unrelated but (spoilers) I like to argue that yeah he’s been alive for 32 years but when you’ve been asleep and not aging physically nor growing mentally for five years in a way that makes you a 27yo. so when he calls his body “mature and old” and compares himself to shi mei I’m just. buddy your body is just three years older than shi mei’s there’s barely any difference in maturity right there. I know it’s your lack of self-worth speaking, and believe me I get it, but don’t be so hard on yourself. (end spoilers) anyway, this is an unimportant and unrelevant thought that I had during the mirror scene) who has no experience in any of these things whatsoever. he's not pushed into sex like he's going to be comfortable right off the bat and like it isn’t such a big change in a life that’s been ascetic so far. mo ran is aware of that! and when they have their first time mo ran, who’s been maybe even more horny than cwn all this time - seriously horny is that guy’s middle name, who initiated the sex, what does he say!!! "don't worry about me, tonight, I just want to make you feel good"??? mo ran?? your character development??? I appreciated that so much.

the pain. I’m still bleeding on the floor despite the happy ending but yeah. I like angst and I was not disappointed. it didn’t feel that gratuitious to me, more like, brutally honest? I don’t cry that easily but by the end I think I’d cried, what, close to ten times??

quite a few excellent quotes [lies down] “I realized - I had grown into the you in my heart”?? “hell is too cold”??? I highlighted more but those two are the ones that always come to my mind first

most of the time the flashbacks were perfectly inserted for maximum emotional damage and I respect that skill

xue zhengyong. like he’s not my favourite, my favourites are xue meng, nangong si and ye wangxi but? I just adored him so he gets a special mention

the side characters? like, I legit loved Everyone? when I cry over side characters you know it’s serious

THE CONFESSION SCENE. LIKE. HOLY SHIT MY HEART. it comes reaaally close to the vocal one (because hua cheng confesses so many times without words) at the end of tgcf for me. it was beautiful. I was so emotional. the fact that cwn can't say it no matter how much he feels it. like it's always been plain and clear just how much he loves mo ran. but he can't say the words yet and I just. the fact that mo ran gets it? that he doesn't need the words, just that squeeze of fingers, just what cwn is, at that moment, able to give him, and it doesn't mean less to him than words would? it hit home real hard

unless I think of something else, that’s about it! I can’t recommend 2ha enough, that said, I beg of you, heed the warnings. they are NOT overstated. and even if there were no warnings, take care anyways. the angst is serious, it haunts you. angst always makes me feel like my chest is being squeezed and that’s precisely the feeling I’m looking for when I choose to read angst. I have good tolerance to it, so despite not doing entirely well lately, I thought I was tough and went for it, but I’m a CLOWN. the way it’s written ruins you. this morning despite reading the hardest part of the angst on saturday evening, I still had some physical chest pain. so I recommend it with all my heart, but take care of yourselves. 2ha doesn’t fuck around.

#2ha #bee talks #i will probably tweak and add to this post over time because I probably forgot stuff #anyways I'm gonna go lie down and cry over ranwan as I think about my fic ideas #2ha review

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kenbunshokus · 5 years ago

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this is a (super late) update to this fic rec post! i was planning to just keep editing and updating that post, but it’s been so old it no longer appears on tumblr search system and all, so here we are. be ready for some old school zosans in the mix

all complete

absolute favorites will be noted with a ♡

list will be updated as i find more

story count: 30 fics

last update: jan 5th 2020

CANON-VERSE

Goings On by clarify ♡

Zoro and Sanji understand each other, and sometimes have a very similar sense of humor. Even though they're worlds ahead of most, sometimes they can't help but to act their age.

easily one of my favorites. zoro and sanji are completely in character, being themselves and comfortable in each other’s spaces. for anyone who thinks zoro and sanji can’t get along in canon, this fic can easily prove them wrong.

Part Timer by 8ball ♡♡

Sanji really, really doesn't want to give Zoro a job at his restaurant. Zoro doesn't really even want to work there in the first place, but, well, there’s this thing with Sanji, and this thing with feelings and the whole thing is pretty damn stupid all together.

Zeff just wants grandkids. He’s too old for this bullshit anyways.

a wonderful, heart-wrenching, roller coaster ride of a post-series fic. this fic is not just a mere fic — it’s a zosan magnum opus with guest appearances by so many other characters, lots of crew hijinks and a must-read for everyone who craves for a happy ending for these good boys.

Say It Again by 8ball

Zoro tells Sanji how he feels. And then again. And again.

since we’re talking about 8ball i just want you to know i’d rec everything they’ve ever written, but special mention to say it again — a classic miscommunication trope fic done well where the miscommunication stems from fundamental misunderstanding of each other’s principles and views instead of just some plot-convenient coincidences. and soft zoro. god, he is soft.

The Wedding Night by cuethe-pulse (lj)

Zoro had never expected any of this.

major character death warning. don’t let the first few scenes fool you. note the warning; the last few lines were like a punch in the gut for me, except, you know, the good kind of punch. also, a quick rec of a drabble by the same author to soothe the pain after this one.

Roronoa Zoro: World’s Greatest Bug Killer by insaneidiot ♡

Sometimes, Zoro's life really sucks. He should've known better than to make fun of Sanji's bug phobia, though...

zoro’s internal monologue is hilarious — until today, this author is still my go-to expert on zoro’s voice, especially his more sarcastic side.

Quitting’s Easy by insaneidiot

Sanji decides to quit smoking. This is not quite so easy as he thinks it will be. Also, his crewmates (excluding Robin and Nami, of course!) are assholes.

fun, fun strawhat hijinks and oblivious sanji. the crew dynamics and especially sanji’s voice are pitch perfect. there’s a hint of luffy/nami that you can easily scroll past if it’s not your thing.

I can’t stop thinking that i can’t stop thinking by hieiandshino ♡

In which Brook changes tactics and Zoro is not amused. Everyone else is, though.

holy shit is this fic hilarious. i love comedy fics that manage to slip in thoughtful observations and character study in between the hijinks, and this fic pulls that off with flying colors.

The Walls See All by threesipsmore

Reiju hides a snail cam in her brother's room.

fun short fic from reiju’s pov. there’s never enough zosan set in whole cake island arc and this fic delivers.

Stormbird by Judin ♡

The Straw Hats' first landing in the New World is on Arashi Island, where it looks like they'll be spending a fun week attending the local festival and making new friends. Until they spot a strange pirate ship in the harbour, and Sanji starts behaving oddly. The Straw Hats become entangled with the mysterious Gently Pirates, a crew that harbour many secrets, and whose captain is a man out of Sanji's past who has the power to tear the Straw Hat crew apart.

it cannot be overstated how wonderful this fic is, and how it could’ve fit into the canon just nicely, like a better-written one piece movie, except with zosan. not only are sanji and zoro in character, every strawhat gets a spotlight and has pitch-perfect voices. brook is especially lovely in this fic.

Unintended Consequence by itsmylifekay

A group of marines charge, Zoro slices through them, and in that instant Sanji feels his own eyes grow wide. Because there, on the arm now outstretched towards him, steel glinting in hand, is the stupid bracelet he’d given Zoro. The bastard is actually wearing it.

there’s a reason this is the most kudo-ed zosan fic on ao3 right now — it’s so soft without being ooc, and there’s a quiet undercurrent of affection laid throughout the fic that will warm you up from the insides.

Somewhere Between Sorrow and Bliss by srididdledeedee

Sanji has never cared for winter.

He can see himself, is the thing. There are bits and pieces that poke through, but it’s not all him. It’s like staring in a fractured mirror. He knows, intellectually, that the person staring back at him is himself, but his face is splintered and his shape is distorted and his body is wrong.

a fantastic character study on trans!sanji and how he comes to terms with his identity with the help of his crewmates. supportive strawhats are always a lovely addition to a zosan fic

Give In To Love by libbylune

Zoro knows better than to think about it too much, but between the rowdy festivals and ancient unexplained temples on this island, it's hard to forget about wanting Sanji.

i love how this fic puts as much focus on the boys after the confession as it does before the confession. a good case fic with its own unique island adventure and i’m always a sucker for soft!zoro

Laundry by libbylune

Dealing with Sanji makes Zoro develop a lot of opinions about clothes.

there’s absolutely nothing hotter than bi!sanji who’s completely comfortable with his gender identity and sexuality. also gay disaster zoro fumbling his words whenever sanji is around is 1) accurate 2) hilarious.

Language of Swords by HaveMyWeedCookies ♡

It took them for a while but finally, Zoro asked if Sanji wanted to hold his sword.

i love fics that explore zoro’s relationship with his craft and his swords, and adding zosan into the mix is something i didn’t know i needed. an interesting outsiders pov zosan in the pov of zoro’s swords.

Ghost of a Chance by sabershadowkat

“I know, for sure, that I didn’t expect to miss everyone so much, including you.” Sanji cut a glance at Zoro and rephrased correctly, “Especially you.”

this fic handles tropes that are usually associated with character death fics, but manages to end it with a happy ending. zoro’s devotion here is heart-wrenching.

Idiot Romance by sabershadowkat

"This has to be a joke," Sanji muttered, poking at the colored petals. Zoro couldn't have just given him flowers.

a classic — this is literally the first zosan fic i’ve ever read — and a lovely one at that. sanji is oblivious and zoro attempts romance, not that zoro ever needed to.

festival night by thisislegit

“ANOTHER FEAT BY THE WORLD’S STRONGEST MAN, JORIRI.” The woman turned to Mr. Mohawk and with faux sympathy said, “Oh! Sorry, sir. Maybe next time. We can’t always beat the best, but we can do our best and that’s what matters. Do we have any other takers? ANY OTHER TAKERS READY FOR THE STRONG MAN CHALLENGE? HOW ABOUT YOU SIR? MADAM? YOU OVER THERE? ARE YOU INTERESTED?”

“What kind of shit name is Joriri,” said Zoro and Sanji in unison.

i’m an absolute sucker for fics that have zoro and sanji simply hanging out and enjoying each other’s company, comfortable in a way they couldn’t with their other crewmates, and this fic exemplifies that. just them being little shits and having fun with one another.

No Victory in Hesitation & the Past Has Its Lessons by EudaimonErisornae & vageege

Zoro has a lot of things he wants to say to Sanji, but he just needs one more day. || Zoro tries to fix a mistake he made in the past.

major character death warning. i died a little bit inside after reading this tbh. there are some devil fruits-explained time travel hijinks, but mostly it’s this looming, grim inevitability of death that’s written so pervasively throughout the fic that really got me.

Imperatives by dollcewrites

Zoro is confident in saying that Sanji is a man who doesn’t do what he’s told. Which is why, when a command accidentally slips from Zoro’s lips during foreplay, he is expecting to hear the cook’s scoff as he continues to do what he pleases.

i don’t tend to do pwp, but this isn’t just one — it’s a completely in-character piece about their relationship and dynamics.

when you say by bluewalk ♡

It's a long time in coming. Usopp can promise, but.

this fic is as much sanuso as it is zosan, and usopp here is — still very much usopp, but also a very beautiful take on his character as someone who spent a lot of time behind sanji’s back, and realizes that when he watches sanji’s back, he gets to see zoro’s, too.

a complete guide to falling in love by ThousandSunny

Sanji was trained in the Bridal Arts; this does not go unnoticed by the rest of his crew.

while the main ship is still zosan, the fic also focuses a lot on zoro and sanji’s relationship with the rest of the crew, and it’s one of those fics that really makes you realize how much of a family the strawhats is. a lovely read all around.

destructivity is a poison that run through our veins by wasteofmind

Zoro thinks that, someday, they are going to kill each other.

a dysfunctional take of their relationship. it’s fascinating in the same way a car crash is fascinating — there’s an undercurrent of something violent, something visceral. this is one of the fics that inspired me to write migratory animals.

ALTERNATE UNIVERSE

Ocean’s Child by 8ball ♡

Here's the truth: Zoro couldn't swim. He fell in the water and sank like a stone because there had never been anyone to teach him how to move his arms. He forgot that if he screamed for help the water would get in his mouth, and he even opening his eyes hurt.

Here’s the other truth, the one that stays a secret: a mermaid saved him.

a fascinating retelling of the one piece canon with mermaid!sanji. it feels a lot like a love letter to the seas, and it’s mesmerizing how sanji’s mermaid backstory is seamlessly weaved into the one piece canon.

with you by Cirro

How to find your life partner in three easy steps: 1. Punch them in the face 2. Insult their cognitive abilities 3. Embarrass them so much they agree to marry you

a wholesome two-part modern au series. my personal favorite is the second part, where sanji brings zoro home to meet zeff — complete with the two of them teasing sanji in their own ways.

The Proper Reaction (or What To Do When Your Son Brings His Boyfriend Home by three_days_late

Holidays at the Baratie were always hectic, but it's nothing Zeff can't handle. Sanji's new boyfriend, on the other hand...

on the topic of meet-the-family: the only thing more fun than zoro meeting zeff is zoro meeting zeff and the entirety of baratie staff. also includes one of my favorite line about bi!sanji: “sanji loves nice girls and bad boys”.

Exclusive by cuethe-pulse

Zoro loves Sanji, Sanji loves Zoro. Zoro wants to be exclusive, so Sanji should, too. Right?

this is a circus/bakery au. yes, you read that right, and yes, it works. i went into this fic with a lot of doubts and came out very satisfied with how fleshed out everyone in this au is, and i’m forever in awe with how the author can set up an entirely separate, vivid universe with so few words.

Delivery by styx_in_the_mud

Sanji is stuck delivering pizzas when Patty is out of commission for a while. Zoro likes to order pizza after training. Both of them are sort of idiots, but Zoro can be smooth as fuck if he puts his mind to it.

a fun, in-character au with good ol’ banter and cute get-together.

The End of It All by xpiester333xx

Humans have been forced underground due to the effects of a chemical weapon that has made surface life impossible. Sanji lives in one of these underground colonies and though he dreams of bigger things his life has been mundane; spent following strict rules and obeying higher commands. Or it was, until a stranger shows up and changes everything.

the author labelled it as sci-fi au, but I personally think it’s more dystopian-like? either way, while this fic is on the long side, it manages to keep everyone in character until the very end, which is something that can’t be said for a lot of fics.

well, there we go! feel free to drop me an ask if you want to rec me fics or ask for a more specific/themed rec list; i’ll also update this post regularly !!

i also have an ao3 donutsandcoffee if you want to see my take on these dorks o/

#opgraphics #zosan #roronoa zoro #sanji #opfanfic #one piece #fic rec #mine*#mine: fic rec #//#zoro #op

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benhardyaf · 5 years ago

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WHEN IN LONDON | PART ONE | H.O

Summary: Elliott moved to London with her boyfriend and a plan. When she loses one she didn’t realise it would mean losing the other. Maybe Harrison can make her realise that no plan is perfectly fine.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Harassment? (put your hands up if this happens to you every damn weekend!!! no means no gd)

A/N: Hi! So this is the second fic I had planned for Haz but it seems to be a quicker write so it’s coming out sooner than I thought. Please let me know what you think of it, any feedback is welcome. Also if you wanna be tagged in this series just ask??? lol I’ve never done this tag thing and probably no one wants to continue it but oh well. Enjoy!

It had been a week since I’d broken up with Dylan, but almost two months since I realised I didn’t want to be with him. It wasn’t an easy thing to do; we’d been dating since we were 17 years old and we moved to a different country together. He wasn’t a bad boyfriend, he loved me, doted on me at times, treated me right. But I couldn’t stop imagining what my life would be like without him in it. I didn’t wait eagerly on the tube home to our flat just to see his face, I didn’t get butterflies in my stomach when he told me he loved me, I didn’t feel the need to accompany him to his work dinner events. We were friends - that was all there was to it. Sure, I loved him, but I wasn’t in love with him.

Last Thursday night was difficult. He was surprised, not sure he thought we would ever break up. We were comfortable. I don’t think Dylan had spent a day in his life uncomfortable. He had a wealthy family, lots of connections, a good body and a smile that lit up a room. Most things came very easily to him. He told me I could keep the flat, which was so nice. I was the one who’d broken up with him, shouldn’t I move out?

Of course, keeping the flat was causing me a little bit of stress. When it was the two of us, it was easy to pay the rent of a two bedroom with two full time salaries. Now, I had to fork out that cash on my own, which was going to be difficult.

That was how I found myself, a week after turning single, walking into a Luau themed bar on a Friday night to meet people I worked with for a few drinks. I’d walked from the Tube station and I already regretted the shoes I was wearing - nothing too flashy, just some leopard print sandals - but the strap was digging into my heels. I flattened my denim skirt as I looked for their table, I was feeling a little nervous to see everyone. Despite knowing Dylan and I weren’t meant to be together, it was a lot easier having him by my side as a comfort.

After pushing through dozens of people and dodging tables with tiki torches lighting up drunk faces, I spotted a group of people by the far wall. I recognised Chloe and Jesse first. They were my closest friends at work, I shared an office space with them. They waved at me and I walked over to them quickly.

“Elliott, you look cute.” Chloe pinched my arm, smiling up at me. “Sit down and grab a drink.” I smiled my thanks, falling easily into conversation with the group and settling my stomach slightly for the night.

I giggled along helplessly to something one of the boys had said, throwing my head back in exaggeration. I was a few drinks in and at this level I thought everything was funny. Our group had dwindled in the hour that had passed, leaving me alone with Jesse, Chloe and a few of the other guys. In my overstated snickering, I slightly lost balance and bumped into someone walking behind me. I turned around to apologize but they weren’t looking at me, they were looking at Ryan, who worked on our third floor, and had a very strange look on his face.

“I’m so sorry.” I said, still smiling. “I emote outwardly.” The person I had knocked looked at me now. He had very short hair that looked recently shaved and dark brown eyes.

“Not a problem, love.” He smiled back. Luckily I hadn’t knocked any of the beers out of his hands. He walked a few more steps and sat down at his own table, which was placed next to ours. He handed out beers to his friends, who began chatting with him.

I turned back to my group, thinking about the encounter I’d just had. The guy was attractive, that much was obvious. And I had always loved British boys, not that I’d ever had the opportunity to be with one, seeing as I’d been with Dylan the whole time I’d lived in England. The thought hadn’t crossed my mind until that moment, but I was now free to sleep with whoever I wanted, whenever I wanted. I was single. It was a freedom I could get used to.

Another hour passed and more people began to leave until it was just Jesse, Ryan, Chloe and I. We were chatting about nothing in particular. I would zone out of the conversation every now and then, fiddling with the paper straw in my Pimms that had started to get soggy.

“Elliott.” I was munching on the cucumber soaked in alcohol, not listening to the boys trying to get my attention. “Elliott!” Jesse waved his hand in front of my face.

“Sorry, zoned out.”

“Ryan was asking when you broke up with Dylan.” Jesse took a sip of his drink. I told him and Chloe about the break up the day after it happened and they got to hear all the gory details, but I hadn’t really talked about it much to anyone else from work.

“Oh.” I frowned, looking down again. This sort of conversation could really put a damper on my good mood. “Last week.”

“Why?” Ryan moved closer to me, the sun was setting behind him and I moved to put my sunglasses on to cover my eyes.

I shrugged my shoulders, wanting the questioning to end. “Sometimes things just end.”

Ryan nodded his head, his hair falling into his eyes. I suppose he was objectively good looking, but I’d never really cared for him. His arrogance was something I could never look past. Chloe talked about him constantly, and how his blue eyes and black hair combo could do things that no other man ever could. I often told her that she should have higher standards if her only prerequisite was black hair and blue eyes. She thought I was crazy.

I stopped listening to the conversation again after that, paying more attention to my drink and feeling a little uncomfortable. Jesse didn’t mean any harm but I couldn’t stop thinking that he could have quelled the subject completely before it even came to me. Chloe seemed to eat up the words that were coming out of Ryans mouth, her eyes never leaving him.

I came to when I felt a palm slip onto my thigh. I looked at Jesse, who had both his hands on the table, ripping up the label of his beer bottle, then to Ryan, who smirked as he continued telling whatever story he was in. I felt like throwing up.

I excused myself and went to the bathroom. The spot on my thigh where Ryans hand had sat was burning. I knew that technically I could do whatever I wanted, I had no attachments anymore. But everything about Ryan screamed dirty to me. I didn’t like the way he stared at girls, I didn’t like the way he talked about himself and I didn’t like the way he took credit for other people's work. I threw some water on my face and tried to cool down. The warm summer air seemed to triple in heat and I was feeling very flushed. I spent a few minutes using the water to calm the redness in my cheeks and went back to the table, deliberately choosing to sit on the other side of the table next to Chloe.

“You look a little stressed. Are you okay?” Chloe asked me quietly, taking the last gulp of her drink and placing the empty glass on the table. I nodded at her, not confident my voice would come out properly. Chloe shrugged and went back to the conversation the boys were having.

Eventually she decided she needed another drink and got up to get the group a round.

As soon as she left, I felt worried again. I felt the stares of the boys on me as they expected me to join in, but I couldn’t make myself focus on the discussion. The night was ruined. I told the boys that I was tired and was going to go home and was met with protestations.

“Just stay a bit longer.” Jesse whined, pouting his bottom lip.

I laughed half-heartedly, shaking my head at him. “It’s been a really long week. I need a good sleep.”

Jesse nodded. Ryan looked at me, I couldn’t really read his expression.

“I thought we were having fun.” It wasn’t a question, he was telling me.

“Oh, yeah.” I gulped. “It’s been great.” I nodded, trying to convince myself.

“Then don’t go.” He said, rather firmly. I had made it to the other side of the table, heading towards the door. I started to shake my head when he grabbed my hand. “You should stay.” I didn’t know what to say to him. I was trying to pull my hand out of his grasp but he had quite a tight grip on it. “Stay here.” When I looked at his face, his eyebrows were pulled into each other. He seemed angry. I tried to object but he stood up, his frame towering over me.

I hadn’t considered him an intimidating man before. Sure, he was conceited and arrogant and rude but he had never seemed harmful. Then, though, I wasn’t sure what sort of man he really was.

Words died on my tongue as he took a step towards me. My heart was beating a little faster. I looked at Jesse, who was confused. He didn’t do anything though.

“I really need to get home.” I found my voice, faking a smile and hoping I sounded sincere. “I’ve got an early start tomorrow.” I took a step backwards, hoping he’d let go of my hand. Ryan was about to say something when a voice cut in.

“Hey, mate.” I looked to the owner. It came from the table next to us, with the guy that I’d bumped earlier. The person speaking was sitting across from him, frown plastered on his face and eyes so blue they seemed to glow. The dying sun was on his right, leaving his skin glowing golden. “Leave her alone.”

I looked at the rest of the table, each face was turned towards me. There was a litter of different expressions, one of disgust, one of anger, another of judgement. I didn’t know what my face looked like, but I hoped it wasn’t betraying my panic.

The nice brunette guy from earlier spoke up. “Not sure you can take the hint so we’ll spell it out for you: she’s not interested.” Hums of agreement followed his statement. Ryan didn’t release his grip on my hand though.

“What the hell does this have to do with you?” Ryans teeth were gritted.

There were a few chuckles from the table. “God.” The boy with blue eyes ran a hand through his hair, messing it up slightly. He looked annoyed. “Nothing really.” He rolled his eyes.

“But it can involve us if you want it to.” One of the boys next to him chimed in. It wasn’t really a threat. The brunette who had said it was even smiling. His tone wasn’t menacing and he didn’t look like he wanted to even get up from his seat. But the implication was there - we will not tolerate this.

Ryan looked across the table, noticing that he was completely outnumbered. Finally, he released my hand. I looked down and could see a red ring around my wrist where his fingers were. I then looked to Jesse, who had a look of shock on his face.

I couldn’t find any words so I just looked at all the boys around me, unsure of what to do next. Ryan had had enough and stormed off to leave, throwing his shoulder into mine on the way. I winced slightly but didn’t react otherwise.

Chloe arrived at that moment with three drinks in her hand. “What did I miss?” She looked around at all the tense faces. “Where’d Ryan go?” She placed the drinks down and walked up to me. Still no one had spoken. “What’s happening?” She half whispered, seeing that Jesse wasn’t going to say a thing she hoped I would. I shook my head at her, unsure of what to say.

“You know what, I’ve never liked Ryans.” The brown-eyed boy from the table next to us announced. The others laughed. I looked at them all, smiling slightly myself.

Chloe just looked even more confused. I shook my head, trying to get a hold of myself. “Ryan, um.” How do I put this lightly? “He left.” Explaining nothing seemed easiest.

“Oh, okay.” She still looked confused, but didn’t push the subject.

I didn’t know what to do so I just sat down again, hoping Chloe would sit as well and we could forget about everything. Thankfully, she did. But as soon as we were about to continue our night, Jesse stood up. “I need to go.”

I hurt me a little that he didn’t want to sit with me. I didn’t know what to say to him. Had I offended him? Was he angry at me for making a scene? I felt so guilty, but also embarrassed that so many people had witnessed everything.

I briefly looked to my left, the group of boys was talking again as if nothing had happened. They chatted and laughed and sipped on their drinks, having a great time. As I was about to look away, my eyes met one of theirs. His lips curled up in a smile and he nodded his head at me, his blonde hair shining in the sun. He raised his drink in a cheers fashion. I reached forward and grabbed my own, slightly lifting it and smiling back at him.

#harrison osterfield #haz osterfield #harrison osterfield fanfic #harrison osterfield fic #haz osterfield fanfic #haz osterfield fic #harrison osterfield writing #harrison osterfield blurb #harrison osterfield fluff #harrison osterfield au #harrison osterfield story

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duhragonball · 6 years ago

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Dragon Ball Z Movie 3: Tree of Might

Movie time again. This time around it’s “Tree of Might”, which premiered on July 7, 1990, between Episodes 54 and 55 of the anime.

I feel like this is one of the more popular movies of the lot, but it’s never been high on my list. There is a lot to appreciate here, but there’s some things that bug me, and I guess they don’t bug anyone else quite as much. It’s definitely way better than “World’s Strongest”, so I don’t want to overstate my case here.

The movie opens with a space probe heading for Planet Earth. Pretty sure someone making this movie had just watched “The Empire Strikes Back.”

On Earth, Bulma, Krillin, Oolong, and Gohan are on a camping trip. Okay, so I guess there was at least one other meeting between Gohan and Oolong after Movie 2, and this was it. I’m curious to see if they ever interact in any later films, or the TV series.

Honestly, I’m not really sure why Oolong would be involved here. In the last movie, it made sense, because he was the only one who would drag Gohan out on a Dragon Ball hunt, which drove the whole plot. Here’s he’s just chilling out with the trio who went to Namek. He feels like an odd man out.

I feel like this movie is angling at being an epilogue to the Namek Saga, since it depicts everyone safe and sound on Earth. It doesn’t fit well with continuity, but the Namek Saga was still in progress when this movie came out, so I can’t blame the writers there. In any case, the implication is that Bulma, Krillin, and Gohan all got back to Earth, and the first thing they wanted to do together was spend some quality time with Oolong.

Anyway, Gohan’s mom made him pack a ton of stuff he probably wouldn’t need for a camping trip.

Nearby, that probe lands in the forest and the heat of the impact starts a fire! Ruh-roh!

Krillin wakes up to the smell of burning everything, and we see all the animals fleeing in terror, including this little dragon.

Krillin tells Gohan to use his ki to put out the flames.

While they do that, Gohan notices the dragon trapped under a... log? It looks more like a really long piece of rock, but I don’t know what you’d even call that. Gohan lifts it up and the dragon moves to safety.

Later, the fire’s out, but the forest is still ruined, and the gang feels sorry for all the homeless animals. I don’t know, maybe I’m jaded, but I always found it a little cloying how all the animals just stand around at the edge of the forest, looking all sad, like they’re neighbors or whatever. I don’t know what real deer do in a real forest fire. Maybe they just die, but I’m pretty sure the ones who don’t just keep running until they find somewhere else to live.

Then Krillin has a great idea...

Dragon Ball Z! Wow, this is a great idea, Krillin. This show kicks ass, but unfortunately they already made it, so it’s not really your idea, you know?

But seriously, Krilln plans to track down the Dragon Balls just so they can wish to have the forest restored. In lieu of the usual opening credits, we get this montage of the gang collecting the Dragon Balls. Here’s Gohan flying an aircraft. I’d ask why they thought this made sense, but they had Gohan fly an aircraft in the last movie, so whoever made Tree of Might can just claim that the precedent was already set.

Just a thought, but maybe the reason Gohan does all this zany stuff is because Chi-Chi makes him study too much. By that I mean, she wants him to become a scholar, but for some reason she made him read an entire pilot manual, just in case it ever came up in some entrance exam. We’ve seen how well Gohan absorbs information, so naturally he’d finish the book and want to try it out for himself. Chi-Chi probably made him read a book about lion taming, and then she wonders why Gohan ran off to join the circus.

Here’s a variation on the OP, only with a dinosaur chasing Gohan instead of Bulma. Gohan ought to be strong enough to kick that dinosaur’s ass, though.

For some reason, Tien and Chiaotzu happen to be jogging by while they’re at it. Small world, I guess.

And then Gohan shows up with the last ball. Good thing, too. The theme song was almost over.

And finally we get the title card. Granted, these trees in the background don’t look very mighty, but bear with us, we’re getting to that.

DRAGON DRAGON! ROCK THE DRAGON! DRAGON! BALL! Z!

DRAGON DRAGON! ROCK THE DRAGON! COME! COME GET ME!

The sight of Shenron panics that little dragon Gohan saved, and it tries to attack him? That seems like an unusual response. Gohan calls him “Haiya Dragon”, so I guess he named him off-screen?

In the English dub, the dragon was named “Icarus”, which I frankly prefer, because what kind of name is “Haiya Dragon” , anyway? That’d be like naming your son “Hello Human.”

Shenron flails his tail around, and maybe he was getting ready to slap some sense into Icarus, or maybe he didn’t even notice the guy. Anyway, Gohan holds Icarus back and makes their wish.

And the forest is saved! I assume the gang finished their camping trip and went home. All the animals return to their burrows and trees and bushes or whatever, and the probe robot crawls out of its crater. Wait, that can’t be good.

The probe sends signals back to a group of aliens. They confirm the presence of life signs on Earth, although no one can believe it, because they know the Saiyan Kakarot was sent to Earth, and he should have wiped out all of its life a long time ago.

Okay, but why did they bother sending the probe if they didn’t think there would be anything there worth finding? Well, anyway, the probe reports that Earthis a suitable environment for the Shinseijuu Tree, which is Japanese for “Divine Essence Tree” Tree. Um, I think the subtitles goofed a little. I’m just gonna call it the Tree of Might.

That reminds me, the actual title of this movie is Chikyū Marugoto Chōkessen, which means “A Super-decisive Battle for Earth.” It’s also been called “Super Battle In the World”, which sounds pretty dumb. For some reason, most of the movies have Japanese titles that absolutely refuse to indicate what they’re about. Literally every DBZ movie could have been called “A Super-decisive Battle for Earth.” Well, I guess Movie 6 was a battle for New Namek, but Meta-Cooler would have attacked Earth eventually.

Later, we find Goku and Gohan chillaxing in the oil drum they bathe in. Chi-Chi’s tending the fire that keeps the water hot. Does Chi-Chi bathe in this thing? She’d have to, right? I’m surprised that erotic DBZ fan artists haven’t jumped all over that concept. “Oh, now that the fire’s going and I’ve taken off my clothes, I can climb into this oil drum and take a bath! It’s a good think I live in the middle of nowhere, so no one can see my boobs!”

But then Icarus shows up and frightens Chi-Chi until Gohan explains who he is. Chi-Chi immediately takes a dislike to the creature, and I’m with her on this one. Icarus is a stand-up dude and all, but he looks kind of creepy. He’s supposed to be cute, but he ends up looking like one of those Precious Moments figurines.

Chi-Chi tells Gohan to take the dragon back where he came from. Goku tries to stick up for him, but she won’t hear of it.

Gohan shoves Icarus away, but let’s be real here, he could carry Icarus all the way back to his forest if he really wanted to.

Then Goku leads them both to this cave he fixed up as a hideout for Icarus. This seems pretty dumb. Goku tells him not to let Chi-Chi know about this, but how did Chi-Chi find out about Icarus in the first place? He followed Gohan to the house where she could see him.

But Icarus is grateful, and he licks Goku. See, Goku looks way, way cuter than Icarus. They really tried to hard with Icarus’ design.

Meanwhile, Yamcha’s cruising around in a car he bought with a 15-year loan, when suddenly he gets blasted out of the sky by...

... one of these assholes, I guess. If I understand correctly, they blasted a big crater in the ground so they could plant their Tree of Might seed, but I don’t really understand why they couldn’t just use a gardening spade.

Tell you what, let’s go over these guys names right now. The big red one in the center is Amond. The guy on the left is Daiz. He wears pink leg warmers.

The alien in the silver armor is Cacao. I think he’s a cyborg, but who cares? And the two little purple guys are Rasin and Lakasei. They’re all wearing Frieza Soldier gear, so does that mean they work for Frieza? Well, we’ll get to that.

The seed starts growing almost as soon as it hits the soil.

Meanwhile, the aliens’ mysterious leader notes that this was all made possible by Goku’s failure to destroy the planet’s population as he was supposed to do.

The Tree of Might is huge, to the point where its roots erupt underneath a whole city, which I’m pretty sure is miles away from the forest where it was planted.

In the forest, Icarus watches this enormous tree finish growing, and he knows things are looking bad.

Meanwhile, most of the major Dragon Ball characters have gotten together at Goku’s house. I’m not sure why. Also, they didn’t invite Launch, which is kind of bullshit.

Bulma gives Yamcha shit for buying such an expensive car, and accuses him of trying to impress girls. So yeah, about the continuity of this movie. These characters won’t be reunited on Planet Earth until Episode 120 of the TV series. By the time that happens, Gohan’s a few years older, and Goku’s learned to turn into a Super Saiyan, so this whole movie just doesn’t fit. Nevertheless, it seems to depict a possible scenario where the good guys managed to return safely from Namek and wish all their dead friends back to life. In other words, this is the first time Bulma and Yamcha are seen together again since his death in the Saiyans Saga, and what is she doing? Yeah.

Same, Tien, same. Chiaotzu’s not gonna let this stop him from enjoying free refreshments though.

Then Icarus shows up at the window, and Goku and Gohan get caught trying to keep him, but they miss the fact that Icarus came back to warn them about the Tree of Might. Too bad he can’t talk.

Fortunately, King Kai can talk, and he can communicate with Goku telepathically, and he warns him about the Tree of Might. Well, “warn” might not be the right word. According to King Kai, the Earth was doomed the moment the tree took root. It’s basically a parasite on a planetary scale. As it grows, it sucks the nutrients and life force from the host planet, reducing the whole world to a lifeless desert.

So where does something like the Tree of Might come from? King Kai says it was originally grown so that the gods could eat its fruit. That sounds halfway plausible, until you consider that a lot of the “gods” in this franchise aren’t nearly as awe-striking as the Tree of Might. It’s hard to imagine someone like Kami planting a tree like this, destroying a whole planet just to eat its fruit. King Kai literally cooks his own meals, and he seems to eat the same stuff as everyone else. King Yama has a tree in hell that bears fruit reserved specially for him, but it’s not nearly as big as this one. I could imagine Beerus snacking on fruit from a tree that kills whole planets, but he’ll settle for cup ramen. More importantly, Beerus and his ilk wouldn’t be introduced to the franchise for another 23 years.

I’m not sure what King Kai is trying to tell Goku. If it’s too late, why bother telling him about this at all? Is he trying to suggest that Goku should evacuate the planet?

Well, King Kai should know better, because Goku stone cold does not give a shit. As soon as he hears about this crisis, he immediately makes plans to go beat up a tree. His plan: Let’s all go shoot it with our best hand lasers. Diagnosis: Awesome.

Then they all put their hands together in a show of solidarity. It’s time to show that tree who’s boss! Look at Chiaotzu. He’s literally lying on top of the table just to reach the others.

Then Gohan tries to join in, because hell yeah. Gohan can help. He fires some really good hand lasers, especially for his age.

But his mommy said no, so he’s gotta stay home. Better luck next time, kid.

Krillin notes that his wish to restore the forest was a total waste, since this stupid Tree of Might wrecked it all over again. I think the whole point of that forest fire was just to give the characters a reason to use the Dragon Balls early, so that way they wouldn’t be able to wish their way out of this situation. I’m not sure Shenron could remove a tree this huge, but it’s a moot point now. The Dragon Balls won’t work again for another year.

So they shoot their finest energy blasts at the base of the tree, and it does nothing. Krillin suggests another try, but Yamcha points out that if they use too much power they could destroy the Earth instead.

Then these jerks show up. Okay, so this is one thing that’s always bugged me about this movie. From here on, much of the action takes place on the Tree of Might itself, so you end up with a lot of indistinct backgrounds which are probably meant to be super-giant tree bark. It just makes it hard to tell where anyone is in relation to anything else. What exactly are they sitting on here? Why does the Tree of Might have all these convenient ledges and horizontal surfaces for people to stand on?

Yamcha demands vengeance for his dearly departed car. Uh, yeah... Whatever gets you in the zone, buddy.

The boys square up for a fight. You know, I remember watching parts of this movie on Toonami back in 1999, and scenes like this, and Yamcha’s appearancs in the Frieza Saga, were really my first introduction to the character. What really stood out for me was that he looked almost exactly like Goku. Kind of like how Flash Thompson was a big fan of Spider-Man, and one time he dressed up as Spidey for a Halloween party, and the real Spider-Man had to trick Green Goblin into thinking that Flash was the real thing. It just really looks like Yamcha is this jock who decided to dress up like Goku because he loves Goku so much.

Anyway, these two guys do some dumb shit. I really hate Rasin and Lakasei. Just... everything about them sucks. They sound terrible in every dub, they look like inflamed hemorrhoids, and they do absolutely nothing to move the story forward.

Tien blinds them with the Solar Flare, and that’s about the only effective offense the Z-Figthers manage in this whole movie.

It’s really a shame, because this is one of the few movies that actually bothers to use Yamcha, Tien, an Chiaotzu, and they get jobbed out. Would it have been so bad to have Yamcha use his Spirit Ball on Cacao and actually hurt him? Krillin’s Kienzan is one of the more serious techniques in the series, so I might have been cool to actualy see him kill somebody with it. I’m pretty sure Chiaotzu has never won a fight in Dragon Ball up to this point. Would it have been so bad to just let him kill Rasin? But no.

I always wondered why they included Yamcha, Tien, and Chiaotzu in this particular movie, but now that I’m watching them in sequence with the anime, it makes some sense. Around this time, the TV series had just revealed that they were training with King Kai in the afterlife, and one could certainly speculate that they would get resurrected later on, and play a role in the final battle with Frieza and/or Vegeta. I think “Tree of Might” was trying to play along with that idea, except it never actually pays it off.

Chiaotzu is in trouble for a while, until Gohan suddenly shows up to help. Turns out Icarus managed to bring him to the forest where the battle was going on, so now he’s here to turn the tide. Or something.

This attracts the attention of the boss alien, who recognizes Gohan as a Saiyan.

So he goes out to meet the kid, and realizes that he must be Kakarot’s son. He introduces himself as Turles and...

Yeah, he looks like Goku. That’s the big twist.

Only it’s not much of a twist at all. Turles explains that it’s not even that big a deal that he and Goku look alike, since they’re both “disposable, lower-class warriors.” According to Turles, low-class Saiyans “only come in a few types.”

I’ve seen this line interpreted in many different ways. Some fans have suggested that the Saiyans cloned their low-class warriors. I think a lot of fans prefer the idea that Turles an Goku might be related somehow. Bardock and Goten’s close resemblance to Goku seems to support this. Hell, Gohan looks a lot like Goku if you don’t take the hair into account.

I think there’s always been a desire to make something more out of Turles than what the movie offers. The fact that he looks like an evil Goku is easily the most intriguing thing about the character, and this movie does absolutely nothing with it. Turles himself acts like it doesn’t matter, and Gohan is the only character who even seems to notice. So why did they bother making him look like Goku in the first place?

I feel like part of the idea here was to explore the idea of what Goku might have been like if he hadn’t hit his head and turned good. Turles could be a glimpse into what Kakarot might have done as a villain, although he’s so different from the real Goku that it doesn’t seem all that convincing. They could have made him look like another Saiyan, and it wouldn’t really affect anything.

Turles’ main personality trait is that he seems to want to recruit Gohan and Goku to his cause, saying that Saiyans should stick together. I’m not sure if he truly believes that, or if he just thinks that his gang could use a couple more Saiyan lackeys. He talks up the space pirate life as an endless romp around the universe, taking whatever he wants and enjoying food and drink as he pleases. Again, I don’t know if that’s a genuine sentiment, or if it’s just his recruitment pitch.

Piccolo shows up and tries to save Gohan, but Turles makes short work of him, and goes back to tormenting the kid.

Turns out he can make one of those fake moon things just like Vegeta.

He forces Gohan to look at it, and then he destroys it as soon as Gohan turns into a giant ape.

He says it’s because he doesn’t want to turn into a giant ape himself, but why wouldn’t he? Why did he turn Gohan into a giant ape? He doesn’t need any help to beat the Z-Fighters. Is he trying to prove a point? Gohan won’t even remember anything he did in ape form. Also, shouldn’t the transformation wear off once the fake moon is gone? Turles accounts for this by saying it’ll stick for a little while, even after the power ball is gone, but that doesn’t sound right. When Piccolo blew up the moon, Gohan changed back immediately.

For that matter, what good is the fake moon technique if it can be dispersed so easily? Krillin could have attacked it during the Goku/Vegeta fight instead of trying to cut off Vegeta’s tail.

So now Goku has to fight his own son in giant ape form. To the movie’s credit, this is a big highlight, because it’s the only DBZ movie to feature a giant ape transformation. And that’s all well and good, but it seems kind of empty to me because I have no idea why Turles set this up. Does he want Gohan to kill Goku? Is that supposed to make Gohan more eager to join him?

The fight ends up in a cavern, which I think turns out to be the same cave Goku used as a home for Icarus. That, or Icarus just happened to be here. Either way, just seeing Icarus calms Gohan down.

This is cute and all, but it seems odd that Oozaru Gohan would react so strongly to Icarus when he didn’t even recognize his own father.

Irritated, Turles tries to attack Icarus, which turns Gohan against him. Turles tries to kill Gohan with a laser donut...

But Goku cuts off Gohan’s tail before it can hit him, and he shrinks back to little kid size just in time to fall through the donut. I guess it’s lucky that Turles relies on donut-shaped attacks.

Turles then offers to spare Goku if he pledges to join him, but Goku refuses. He came her to whip a tree’s ass, and if Turles is pro-tree, then he can get wrecked along with it.

Then all of these creeps show up to fight Goku first. See, this is dumb. They not only made a clean sweep of Goku’s teammates, they didn’t even defeat them on screen!

Here’s a shot of Tien passing out from the hypothetical beating he took from Amond or some other guy.

Well, at least this sets up a cool scene where Goku has to fight them all by himself, right? Not really, Goku squashes them all in matter of seconds.

Meanwhile, Piccolo tries to take on Turles, but he’s just no match for him.

Boom, roasted.

I mean, why couldn’t Yamcha take this guy out? What was the point of having Yamcha in the movie if Goku was going to beat all the bad guys by himself?

With the rabble cleared away, Goku finally gets down to business. Turles panics when he sees how strong Goku is, so he runs away...

...and picks a piece of fruit from the Tree of Might. Why does he stick his tongue out to eat it? That just looks kind of weird.

Basically, the fruit of the Tree of Might ramps up a person’s battle power, which allows Turles to overpower Goku with ease. This is the core concept with Turles, I think. The challenge with this movie was to invent a new villain who could challenge Goku in the same manner as Vegeta and Frieza. Well, that’s a tall order, because Frieza was hyped as the strongest guy in the whole universe. A Saiyan villain would have made sense, except Vegeta was the strongest Saiyan, and the only one left. To introduce a new Saiyan, you’d have to explain why he’d be strong enough to rival Vegeta or Frieza.

The solution is the Tree of Might. I can’t find the line now, but there’s a part of the movie where Turles or one of his crew mention that the Tree of Might will make Turles strong enough to defeat Frieza. It’s pretty clear, then, that he’s a renegade from Frieza’s organization. They have their old uniforms, but instead of working for Frieza, they just roam the universe looking for places to plant their Tree of Might seeds. They grow a new tree, eat the fruit, get stronger, and then repeat the process. Turles started out as a weakling like Goku once was, but he found a way to cheat the system, and now he’s on his way to becoming the strongest in the universe.

Turles leaves Goku when he refuses to surrender, and then Goku’s friends speak to him telepathically. I’m not sure when they learned to do that, but whatever. They beg Goku to get up and try a Spirit Bomb, and Goku finally musters the strength to try it.

While he does that, the Z-Fighters assemble for one last stand against Turles. I guess this is supposed to buy time for Goku, but I’m not sure he needs it. Turles isn’t actually doing anything at the moment.

But it doesn’t work. The Spirit Bomb relies on borrowng life energy from everything on the planet, and that’s been drained away by the Tree of Might, so Turles thwarts Goku’s attack with ease. Oh, he also clobbered the Z-Fighters, so they’re down too. Triumphantly, Turles looks at his fruit crop. Where exactly is this that he’s standing right now?

But Goku isn’t beaten yet. He drags himself back into the fight, and confronts Turles one more time.

See, this time, Goku has a way to make the Spirit Bomb work. If all of the Earth’s energy is in the Tree of Might...

... then he’ll just draw the energy from the fruit instead of the planet, and make a Spirit Bomb from that.

There’s this tense standoff, and then they both attack each other in a single instant, and Goku’s Spirit Bomb wins out. I always have trouble remembering how this movie ends, and I think it’s because the climactic moment is so quick. I’m pretty sure they tried to imitate a gunfight from a western.

Turles gets consumed by the Spirit Bomb, and it drives him up through the trunk of the Tree of Might. Really, this makes a lot of sense as a finale. Turles’ trump card was to eat one piece of fruit from the tree, but Goku drew power from all of the fruit, so naturally his Spirit Bomb would be stronger than anything Turles could handle. And it’s an elegant solution to the problem posed by the tree. It was completely invulnerable to Goku’s own power, so he ended up using the Tree of Might’s own energy against itself.

All of this causes the Tree to glow yellow and disintigrate into sparkles of light, which rejuvenate all life on Earth.

So this dying deer is okay again, and presumably so is everything else.

Later, everyone celebrates with another camping trip. Launch got snubbed again.

Oolong tries to praise Icarus for his role in the battle, but Icarus nearly bites him.

And Piccolo sort of chills out by a waterfall somewhere, and that’s the end of the movie.

So it’s a pretty decent entry in the movie series, but I find it to be a mixed bag. The highlights are things that don’t quite get developed enough. Yeah, you have Turles, Great Ape Gohan, Yamcha, Tien, and Chiaotzu, but for my money, merely having those things in the movie isn’t enough. It’s what you do with them that counts. I find it particularly frustrating that the Dragon Ball Wiki has all this lore on Turles’ gang, but none of it ever made it into the movie itself, which is their only appearance. What’s the point in having a backstory for Daiz if it never comes up anywhere? His entire character arc was blowing up Yamcha’s car, and then getting decked by Goku.

Still, if you like Spirit Bombs, this is one of the best Spirit Bomb finishes ever. And the Tree of Might is a pretty cool idea. And the visuals are a big step up from World’s Strongest.

#dragon ball #2019dbliveblog #movie 3 #tree of might #goku #gohan #krillin #yamcha #tien #chaiotzu #piccolo #chi chi #icarus #turles #amond #cacao #rasin #lakasei #daiz #dbmovieliveblog

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thelastpodcast · 5 years ago

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Graduation Speech Transcript

[This was the working draft so there are some changes and additions I made on the fly.]

Let me start by saying what a total mindblowing honor it was to have been selected by my classmates to speak on their behalf. I already told them this once in private so they would know I really meant it and wasn’t just saying it to endear myself to the alumni, but it bears repeating. To endear myself to the alumni.

Class of 2019: It’s no exaggeration to say that I consider all of you to be superior human beings to me—you know, in terms of your career accomplishments, charitable activities… personalities. I was legitimately intimidated when I read your bios in our little binder. Especially since mine was just me drinking an iced latte and making jokes about my dog or whatever. You all lived up to the hype and the multi-hyphenates, that is for certain—and that’s why I felt so shocked, but also so validated and accepted, to be chosen.

And I don’t know if I even mentioned my dog once, this whole program, did I? Her name is Shoshanna and she’s uh, half puggle half demon, and the less said about her the better.

We’re not here to talk about my dog, luckily. We’re here to look back on our experience these past six months, and to look ahead to where we’re going now.

It all started at the Brown Center, for our opening retreat—and listen, folks. I thought I knew a thing or two about team training activities? I do a lot of that for work a little, you know, I’ve been around the block a bit, I’ve got some game. Or, I thought I did. It turns out I have absolutely no game, because Bill from the Brown Center knocked me out with all of his Jedi Mind Tricks. Remember that activity where you had to keep a familiar person between yourself and someone who was unfamiliar? Alumni, did you do this one? If you’ve never done this, I want you to try it out the next time you are 5 hours into the process of slowly meeting 40 new people. Outside of Leadership Seacoast I’m not sure when else that might happen, maybe like a hostage situation at a grocery store? Something to keep in mind!

So, what you do is, you stand in a big circle and you look across and you find someone who is familiar and someone who is not. You don’t say it out loud – nobody knows who picks who. Like all the best games, most of this one happens in your mind.

Fred was my familiar guy—we’d been on this Puzzle Team together so we were already bros for life. (Fred hand signal.) That’s me and Fred’s secret hand shake. And Bridget was, at the time, a person I was unfamiliar with. Luckily, Bridget, that would change! But anyway, once you’ve picked your two people across the way, you start moving out from the circle. And as each PERSON tries to physically keep his or her familiar between their self and the unfamiliar, everybody scatters crazily around the room—it’s total chaos. Then Bill, this master of his craft, Bill! He flips the script. He says, you gotta keep the unfamiliar person between you and the familiar guy. So, guess what happens when you do that? All of the people who have scattered around the room suddenly clump together, like we were magnetized. As a physical exercise, it was stunning. As a metaphor, it’s even better. When we shield ourselves with familiar people and places, the community is disparate, chaotic, disorganized. When we reach out, to someone new, when we step out of our comfort zone, the community very quickly becomes more unified, close-knit—maybe a little too close for people who need their personal space, but undoubtedly stronger.

Feeling warmed and inspired by this, we met Peter Francese, who told us all about how we are going to die.

OK, ok, not how we are going to die—it wasn’t that bad. He just wanted to warn us about the state’s swiftly aging population, and how these trends would, you know, collapse the economy, annihilate property values and give rise to blood-harvesting robots…in the next five to ten years. So we’ve got that to look forward to!

Now, Demographic doomsaying aside– in his talk Peter highlighted something that turned out to be very important for virtually every session that followed – which is I guess what we can politely call the “structural shortcomings” of our dear granite state. I mean mostly that there’s no money, but also… you know how our stubborn independence creates an unwieldy number of local fiefdoms and gerontocracies instead of something more streamlined or cost effective or efficient or whatever? I Also mean that.

Live free or die! Maybe both.

Because from the opening retreat onward, at each program day, we were brought face to face with the open space between people in need and available services. Each time we saw problems over here with apparent solutions over there but no funding or obvious state mechanism to connect them.

Nowhere was that more clear than on Health and Human Services day. The scope and seriousness of the addiction epidemic in New Hampshire can’t be overstated. And we learned to call it an addiction epidemic and not an opioid epidemic. Because it is not new and it is far from over.

And yet, I found myself so inspired to meet the people working against it. Capable, confident, dedicated individuals from all walks of life. And importantly, there were so many of them—so many people, so many organizations, voluntarily filling in that gap between the problem and the solution.

Next up was Economic Development day, and almost every member of the class of 2019 that I’ve talked to about this day felt intimidated by the subject. Economic Development. Was there going to be math? I mean, everyone in this class is a right-brained, touchy-feely type. Even those of us who work at banks. Even Josh! Yes, even Josh is, deep down. You’re the man, Josh. You’re the football coach I wish I had.

Anyway, Economic Development. It wasn’t so bad, was it?

We all left that day excited about our community, very well caffeinated, and wondering which place we should move to: Somersworth, or into a Macy’s? Let me explain that: Eric Chinburg told us that big box stores are the mill buildings of the future. Since obviously malls are no longer a place people shop, we might as well put some apartments in there, right? That might sound crazy to you, but buy her a drink and Sarah Wrightsman will tell you why it’s not. I love the idea, if only for the rich joke potential. Did you hear about Kir’s new apartment, oh yeah, he finally left that dusty little studio and he’s upgraded to a beautiful spacious Anne Taylor Loft. Oh, the natural light!

Oh, and did you all hear about the developer who wanted to put 5 affordable units in his new building? Due to cost overruns, he’s down to just one Payless.

If you can think of a good one please let me know after the speech, I’m trying to write a standup set for the next Workforce Housing Coalition meeting.

So, I connect with science more than I thought I did – I learned that at Environment Day. I’ve never thought of myself as a science guy, nor did my chemistry teacher in high school, but I guess I am. I really connected with what people like Cameron Wake had to say. Which is why I no longer sleep at night!

And by the way, if you have to learn about catastrophic climate change, it’s best to be somewhere as beautiful as Odiorne. I mean, worst case scenario, everything looks like Odoirne, right? Sorry.

But anyway, being a person who connects with science now, and with a couple of program days behind me, I started to put the all these pieces together, and started to see better the gaps between the need and the resources, between the economic development and the education, between the government and the environment, I started to think of the state of New Hampshire itself as a kind of organism. I first thought of this metaphor at one of the Margaritas meetings, by the way, and I think it’s pretty solid. Shoutout to Margaritas, by the way, the unofficial program sponsor of Leadership Seacoast 2019.

The state of New Hampshire is like a plant that grows too close to the ground to get any sun. The sunlight, in this metaphor, is tax revenue. The stem of the plant is too weak to stand up on its own—it would have needed to add, you know, like an income tax or something in order to produce more chlorophyll. I swear to god this metaphor tracks, just bear with me here.

We’re a plant, and we grow too close to the ground. But instead of shriveling up and dying, over time, we have evolved this vast, far flung network of little leaves that push their way out into the sun and keep the plant alive despite its shortcomings.

Every person we met at every single program day, is one of those leaves. Out there, on their own, pushing toward the light, finding a gap and filling it.

I’m talking about the incredible and dedicated people we met from groups like Hope on Haven Hill and Seacoast Family Promise

As well as people like Terry Robinson, who came to Portsmouth by way of Louisiana, on the strength of his fashion career, and is now working with the Portsmouth Black Heritage Trail and is still somehow only 19 years old? What? He identified a gap in the education of Seacoast kids of color, a gap that was invisible to most of us. He’s filling it now.

And what about Anna Brown and Jacquelyn Benson, the dynamic duo from Citizens Count. They are like a walking West Wing episode and I could listen them explain the nuances of the New Hampshire legislative system all day. It might take all day to understand it, but that’s why they’re working so hard.

Emmett Soldati talked to us about the need for gathering spaces in the community. In Somerworth, he saw a gap, and he filled it in himself by opening Teatotaller, which is a really special place Where once there was problem, now there’s Kirsten Gillibrand watching a Teen Drag Show. That’s pretty good. That’s a lot of light for one leaf.

That’s also how a lot of us felt about Justin Roy, the principal of Spaulding High School: a lot of light for one leaf. From where does he find the energy? Oliver, let’s talk to Revision about hooking that guy up to the grid. On Education Day, he very appropriately gave us a lot to think about. How we felt about the education we got, however long ago. How much the system might need to change going forward. How much it would take it change it, and whether or not we had the stomach for that. Education reform is a grand and consequential experiment, and the laboratory is right there in Rochester.

Speaking of experiments—Justice Day certainly was that.

Down at Strafford County Correctional, we’re very lucky to have an administration in place that recognizes addiction for what it is: a medical issue, and we heard from some people working very hard to turn their lives around. But they’re funding these programs with extra money they’re getting from ICE to house undocumented immigrants. The jail superintendent, Chris Brackett told us: he doesn’t know where these people came from, what they did, if anything, and where they’re going next. This is a tough thing to contemplate. But we can’t look the other way. So don’t.

The most remarkable part of justice day happened at the end, and it came from within the group itself. John and Kerry, and Christine and Tim and Josh, members of our own class who have come at criminal justice reform in their own ways, in their own fields, led a spirited but respectful discussion about everything we’d just seen. I learned too much that day to even try to relate here, but more than anything, I just felt grateful for your perspectives—for all of your perspectives, across every program day and every small group and every chance encounter in the wild, may there be many more.

And I’m grateful to Lori, for carving out a big block of time on justice day to let something like that unfold. Can we just get a round of applause for Lori Waltz Gagnon, people? She was incredible. I’ll be honest, We’re kind of an unwieldy group, a little rowdy. We get cranky when we don’t have snacks. And she managed us with aplomb and also with some little chimes that she would ring to get us to shut up. Speaking of which!

Some of us were thinking—the chimes are great and all, very final savasana, but maybe you’d like some variety for the class of 2020? So --- Jay Dennett made this bag by the way – check it out. Blue Dolphin, everybody.

What we’re going to do here, is I want you all to talk amongst yourselves for a second, and then I will try to bring you back to focus with an item from the bag, OK? I will give you a topic. How would YOU have changed the Game Of Thrones finale?

That was great! OK, let’s try again. More controversial topic this time: does a hot dog count as a sandwich? Go.

We’ve got some good ones. I really like the maracas—because it’s like, Ooooh, are we going to learn about PFOA contamination… or are we going to do some salsa dancing?! Speaking of Salsa Dancing, Erika Mantz, where are you? We took some lessons together after Arts & Culture Day. Erica stepped up and collected donations from the class of 2019 to fund a scholarship for someone next year.

What do we do now? My dog, we covered that. New Hampshire is a plant that grows too close to the ground. Covered that. Webster’s Dictionary Defines Leadership as… we don’t need that. Secret hand gesture for Fred, we did that. Webster’s Dictionary defines Seacoast as… we don’t need that. Ah, OK, here we are, What do we do now?

I think for a minute there, maybe about halfway through the program, this became the sort of overwhelming question on everybody’s minds. What do we do after all this? Everything we are learning, everything we are seeing, all the need, all of the problems. Climate Change! Local Government! Single-Use Plastics! Homelessness! Oh my god! Where do we start?

And then it became less of a worry, because we were already starting. Everywhere, across the group, it was happening.

Elaine Way went back to work after Health & Human Services Day in January and pretty much immediately directed a $2400 donation to Seacoast Family Promise. See, we both work for LTC Partners, and she had that money from our company’s annual holiday basket raffle—Elaine’s department always makes the best basket. They win every year! It’s a little annoying.

Karene immediately went out and signed up to be a cuddler at Hope on Haven Hill.

Fred went to one of Sarah’s workshops and learned all the cool affordable housing lingo, like NIMBY and CAVE and BANANA. (Explain Banana.)

Kelly’s starting a New Hampshire Volunteer Chapter for Wells Fargo--

Whitney joined the board for Marsha’s Hospice Help Foundation--

The list goes on.

And our class facebook paged has been lighting up on a daily basis with volunteer opportunities and events. What I’m saying is – I don’t need to tell you where to start. We’ve already started. It’s already happening.

But keep starting, please. Keep in touch, keep an eye on what others are doing, and keep an eye out for the kind of gaps you can fill, or that you think one of us might be able to fill instead. Think about the space that other people in the class are already occupying, have been occupying for years, and keep thinking about how you could help them. And tell other people about what they’re doing, and what you’re doing! Don’t be shy about it.

I mentioned earlier the validation and acceptance I felt when you all picked me to be your speaker – acceptance in particular, acceptance by teams, is something I’ve had in short supply for most of my life. I was never a star athlete and I think I finished school RIGHT BEFORE phys ed teachers got the memo that having kids pick their own teams was cruel and unusual punishment. I’ve told plenty of you that at the opening retreat I really resisted getting involved in some of the activities because of their resemblance to … shudder… team sports.

Well, listen, class of 2019 – I am so happy to be on your team. I am so excited to see what we’re doing already, and what we’ll do next. And if you ever get stuck – look to your left, look to your right. And the people on the ends, I guess like, look backward or forward? You get what I am saying. Look to each other. Keep helping each other help others. Grow the team. Fill in the gaps.

There will be no shortage of opportunities to help in a state like this, with an alumni network like this, with a team like this.

Thank you, Lori Waltz Gagnon, thank you all for listening – thank you to my wife and my mom and my boss for all coming—and most of all, thank you, class of 2019.

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dontcallmecarrie · 7 years ago

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LTTR Shatterpoints

Yes, another one. At this rate the series might just end up being me remixing this one premise over and over again, because they just keep coming. Plus I’m trying to put off the inevitable major character death that I’d tagged for, there’s that too. Slow going, on that front.

So, I’ve already done several everyonelives!AU shatterpoints [or, well, almost everyone], but I’ve been going over LTTR and looking at the buildup and one jumped out at me.

See, I’ve been trying to be as nice as I can to Howard, trying to show how his vices screwed him over and how WWII and everything that came after changed him. Hopefully, it showed through in both LTTR and the minific thing set in the same universe [Just Hide Behind Your Pride].

Howard, in my interpretation, is a complex character. The alcoholism is a huge vice I can’t overstate, and he cares but his communication skills are shit and add in his other issues and you do not get a case of ‘love conquers all’.

Reason this all comes up is: in LTTR, I’m trying to be nice to his character. This shatterpoint, however, is anything but, even if it’s slightly happier in other ways.

Because in one universe, Maria stayed with Howard through thick and thin, in sickness and in health, and died at his side nearly two decades later.

In another life, however, Maria Stark divorced her husband in 1973.

Howard’s alcoholism had become a bone of contention, not long into their marriage. Maria hated it—each fight was more exhausting than the one before it.

Because when he was home, Howard Stark was almost always drunk.

And when he was drunk, he got loud, he broke plates and glasses and the only reason he never hit his wife was an unconscious, instinctive urge for survival, warning him even at his lowest to not provoke the other in the room, the gleam in her eyes sometimes putting him on edge in a way he could never explain sober.

In one life, Maria would’ve gritted her teeth and stuck it out, would’ve done her level best to try to keep her husband from crawling into the bottle and never coming back out, and even somewhat succeeded.

In this universe, however, Howard’s sense of self-preservation lapsed for a moment, and during an especially terse shouting match, he tried to hit his wife. Emphasis on tried, because Maria caught his hand.

But that was the last straw, for her, and where before she’d politely pretended to buy it when Howard acted like he didn’t remember what happened when he was drunk, this time she looks him in the eye and smiles even as she says, “I want a divorce.”

Because before, Howard had been pushing everyone out of his life. That, she was willing to deal with. The secrets and the way he put her at risk because he kept bringing his SHIELD-related work home, she’d been dealing with. But she had her limits, and she drew the line at domestic violence. If Howard didn’t want her in his life, all he needed to do was say so and she’d leave.

Divorce was a-okay with her, screw social norms, screw everything, she didn’t care, she’d married him out of love. If he didn’t love her back, then what was he doing wasting his time with her?

Howard, of course, tries to fight it. Tries to say no, he doesn’t want to, he was Howard Stark and that meant something, didn’t she know?

Unfortunately for him, Maria was just as stubborn as he was.

And when he brought in the lawyers, she didn’t hesitate to bring up PR, and after making it clear that she didn’t care about his money, didn’t give a damn about alimony or anything, everything else fell into place. She even had a cover for it, ready to go the day after their last fight: anyone asked, they could say she was infertile, and use that if necessary.

They didn’t have a child, after all, it’d be easy to pin it on that and she didn’t care about what the world thought about her as long as she could get this over with stat. And he’d never see or hear from her again, and everyone could carry on with their lives. [Or maybe she says something about spreading a rumor about infidelity, because Maria doesn't care about her reputation, she just wants out.]

From there, it’s a no-brainer, really.

Howard’s not happy, but when it’s put that way, everything’s lined up perfectly and it’s not like he can argue. Not when he suspects that if he doesn’t sign, Maria might just end up walking out the next time he leaves for the Arctic.

So he signs, and tries to ignore everyone else’s yelling at him as he does so. Because Peggy’s sharp enough to read between the lines, knows both him and Maria well enough to know that Maria wouldn't have divorced him without one hell of a push, and Jarvis had quit outright in protest. Well, not in protest, but the look his old friend had given him had stung. [Especially since there was an uncomfortable amount of truth in there.]

So Howard Stark signs the divorce papers, and Maria Carbonell and Edwin Jarvis then proceed to vanish off the face of the Earth.

Not that the cameras care, of course: the world was interested in the rich business tycoon first and foremost, now that he was back on the market. Sure, there was a bit of speculation as to where his ex-wife was, but really the story presented was pretty much cut and dry, and interest waned after a while.

Howard’s alone, now, in his mansion. Nothing but him and the bottle, and the knowledge that he had something good and blew it because the reminders of his brilliant, brilliant wife are everywhere.

In SHIELD:

Peggy won’t speak to him if it’s not for strictly professional reasons. Then, she’s absolutely glacial, and the look in her eyes is practically daring him to try anything.

Nick Fury, Peggy’s apprentice of sorts, is also side-eyeing him too; has been ever since he got wind of the divorce, ever since he last saw Maria walking away with nothing but a messenger bag with everything she’d had to her name prior to getting married.

Hell, even Hank Pym had commented on it.

he’s even worse after losing Janet, though: now Howard’s pretty sure Hank pretty much hates him, because he had a wife and let her go, instead of...well.

if there’s rumors of infidelity floating around, then it’s even worse because Hank just pities him and Howard hates it.

Even in Stark Industries, he can’t catch a break.

it’d been his Legal department who’d helped with the divorce, they’re the ones privy to the details. They’d mentioned, more than once, just how unusual it was, that the wife of a rich man didn’t care about alimony. Howard didn’t doubt they side-eyed him even now, sometimes.

his PR department is working better than ever, and also, very clearly, all-but-hated him.

He’d known Maria had been involved in it, but to the extent where an entire department was acting like he’d fired their head after the divorce?

Obadiah, at least, does what he can to help. He hadn’t commented much on the divorce itself, beyond mentioning how much of a pity it was.

However, he’s also starting to talk about remarrying, and Howard doesn’t want to think about it right now but his friend’s right, he’s not getting any younger but after Maria—well. He’ll figure something out. He’s busy right now, but...damn he needs another drink.

aka I’m not sure if Howard remarries or not, in this AU. Probably not, to keep things from getting too complicated and for added drama later on because...

On Maria’s end, she had to get creative to get back to Night Vale, but she manages it. She’s home, not two weeks after getting divorced, and with Jarvis in tow to boot.

...and finds out she’s pregnant shortly afterwards.

Maria tries to let Howard know about it, but he’s always out and never picks up the phone. The one who ends up answering it is a newly-hired lawyer who thinks it’s a crank call and goes ‘you say you’re Howard’s ex, and that you’re pregnant with his kid? yeah, right, keep harassing him this way and we’ll sue’ [because he doesn’t recognize her voice, or whatever] which...yeah. Oops.

[aka Tony’s born and raised in Night Vale]

Tony’s born in Night Vale General Hospital, just like his mom, and grows up terrifying.

Sometimes, sure, he’s curious about the outside world, about his biological father. But for the most part, he’s content with showing up Desert Bluffs when science fair season rolls around, or when Jarvis is doing his thing, or when his mom’s coming back from her job at the library. [Or maybe Maria works at Night Vale Community Radio as a sort of go-between of Station Management, or something?]

Thanks to the internet, he knows what his biological father looks like, and it’s really uncanny how much he looks like him. [Weird, but cool.] Both his mom and Jarvis have plenty of stories to tell, but Tony can also pick up pretty easily on what they’re not saying, too.

Still, the older he gets, the more curious Tony can’t help but feel.

And from there I can imagine a few ways things’d end up panning out:

Option A: Howard dies in a ‘car accident’ before Tony can meet him.

The outside world doesn’t learn about Tony until after a green rage monster crashes through and passes out in Mission Grove Park. Bruce Banner wakes up to a very apologetic Tony because “sorry, that knockout gas is still in beta, didn’t expect for it to do that”. The discovery that this small town just rolls with him having the Other Guy is mind-blowing, to say the least.

Bruce soon gears up to head off because he fell from the Helicarrier and knows they’re probably going to need help for whatever Loki’s up to, and gets a ride not via a moped, but one of Tony’s...creations. Not only that, but Tony goes with as well, because possible alien invasion meant science and he was, above all else, a scientist.

The Avengers get a heart attack when Bruce Banner shows up after having disappeared from the Helicarrier. SHIELD gets a heart attack when an unknown shows up and starts doing heavy damage, and Steve Rogers gets a heart attack when said unknown lifts his faceplate and he’d been told Howard was dead, had died without children, yet this man’s his spitting image, what was going on?

Option A1:

[I’m pretty sure it’s been done before, but meh]

It’s not the Other Guy who crashes into their little town.

Instead, it’s a hammer, followed by a very loud and very buff blond guy. Except here, the Destroyer gets taken care of by Street Cleaners, or Hooded Figures, and Thor has to jump through quite a few more hoops to prove he’s worthy.

or maybe it’s Steve Rogers on his motorcycle, exploring America after getting unfrozen and trying to get his bearings back, only to stick around after he meets Tony.

or maybe MCU canon ensues without Tony, for the most part, right up until Thanos shows up. Unfortunately for him, he picked the wrong planet, because if Night Vale could take on a Smiling god, they could take on a Mad Titan.

Option B: Tony decides to visit the outside world the summer before entering college, and accidentally ends up interfering with the assassination attempt.

Tony’d gotten quite a few strange looks the entire time he’d been traveling, but he hadn’t realized just how much he resembled his father until he’s at a party in New York City and a security guard takes one look, pales, and proceeds to take him by the arm and all-but-frog-march him to an office.

Less than an hour and quite a lot of yelling later, Tony meets his father. And is distinctly unimpressed.

Of course, by then Howard’s probably remarried or something, which doesn’t help. Here, he doesn’t, because there’s no damn time between SHIELD and SI and more drama that way.

Especially since it takes several repetitions and a letter to explain that yes, actually, his mom had tried to let Howard know about his having a son, but nobody believed her so she’d given up after a while. No, he wasn’t after his money, Tony just wanted to at least meet his biological father even if it’s just the once, and now that he’d seen him he was okay with walking away, no harm done.

Suffice it is to say, there is a lot of yelling.

Apparently, everyone’s very interested in both him and his mom. Yes, she’s fine, she’s currently the one wrangling press conferences for City Hall, happy as a clam. He’s about to enter college, no, he’s not going to say where because he likes his privacy. Again, Tony just wanted to meet Howard, now that was done they could both go on with their lives, simple. See? No? ...well, shit.

so, so much yelling.

Howard, for his part, had been urgently called away from the party, and escorted by a very tense security team to a small office on premises, who’re keeping him updated on the situation. It sounds ludicrous, like a bad joke, but when he first sees the young man languidly slouching in the tiny office chair, all doubts vanish. Because Howard couldn’t deny it if he wanted to—the resemblance was just too much. And Tony—that’s what he called himself, even as he’s lazily waving a school ID for Anthony Carbonell— had his mother’s eyes.

The evening just gets more mind-blowing from there, really.

Howard Stark has a son, and he never knew—heads would roll for that alone, he was sure. Howard has a son, who didn’t seem to care about his money, who’s only remark remotely to that effect had been a joke about child support but nothing else. Howard has a son, who’s a genius, because he’d been doodling on a piece of scratch paper for like 5 minutes that looked disturbingly like the schematics for a laser gun of some kind. All right then.

Given the number of bombs being dropped in succession—his ex-wife and his old friend were both alive and well despite having vanished off the map decades ago, he had a son he didn’t know about who was about to enter college—Howard feels he’s excused for clocking out early. He’d expected a gala, and got...this.

So he heads home early, and has Tony come with him because hell, might as well get to know his son, right?

...of fucking course there’s an assassin. What is even his life—why’s his son throwing a fireball at their attacker?

aka Tony ends up fighting off the Winter Soldier and saves his father’s life. And Howard has so many questions as to when and how a seventeen-year-old managed to pick up the skills to take down a veritable Terminator.

Shit goes down, and Howard’s blood pressure skyrockets because he keeps getting more questions and Tony’s very good at keeping secrets. The most Howard gets is his son’s hometown, but even that’s a dead end—he should know, given he looked long and hard for it, back when he’d married Maria, and it didn’t seem to exist anywhere he could find.

Tony leaves, not long after, but at least Howard managed to wrangle a promise of keeping in touch because...well. He’d just discovered he had a son and wrapping his head around it all was going to take a while.

Time passes, and he manages to keep it mostly quiet, with only the people in his social circle being made aware of it. He wouldn’t have believed it himself it he hadn’t experienced it, if he didn’t have the Winter Soldier in custody and currently getting treated for his various third-degree burns, if he didn't have a few photographs of his son(!).

Nick Fury had managed to meet his son as well, actually: Howard had called him as soon as he’d arrived home, because of obvious reasons, and when his old friend had shown up he’d taken one look at Tony’s carefully keeping watch over the man who’d been privately revealed to be Barnes, before turning around and just giving Howard the single most deadpan look he’s ever gotten. [Part of Howard thinks he might’ve been shocked by the Barnes thing, if the rest of the evening hadn’t desensitized him to it.]

...then Howard and Co. find out about the HYDRA thing after interrogating the newly-captured Winter Soldier, and you guys can guess the rest on that front.

Peggy learns about Tony from Nick Fury and just gives Howard a look because she suspects him at first, but then Tony visits again during the weekend and she gets to know his son. Tony’s very amiable, disturbingly well-versed in interrogation and brainwashing tactics and whatnot, and when he mentions ‘yeah, mom wanted me to know dad but the lawyers said they’d sue’, she finally drops it. Obadiah, meanwhile, gets caught flat-footed in all this, and gets sloppy in his double-dealing. Since this is so soon after the HYDRA scare, he gets made not long afterwards.

Steve Rogers wakes up to Bucky sitting in the chair next to him.

Well, technically no: he wakes to the sight of Tony very carefully and very deliberately removing the screws in his sleeping friend’s chair, and running away cackling when Bucky fell backwards.

“That little shit,” Bucky growls after running a hand through his hair and cursing even more because apparently Tony got glitter on him too, and makes to chase after him before a strange sound comes from the bed, and his thoughts derail because Steve’s awake. And laughing at him, but first things first.

“You get off this time!” He calls down the hall, and after another look at Steve, adds, “And get your dad!”

Then he turns to Steve, and smirks. “What he doesn’t know is I switched out all the coffee in the house for decaf, so he’s going to be crashing soon.” Then he sobers, and smiles with more warmth than before. “Hey, Steve. It’s been a while.”

...okay I think it’s safe to say I have a problem with making AUs. Anyone mind my remixing LTTR multiple times?

#behind the scenes #shatterpoint #Live Through The Rain #Only The Names Change #Just Hide Behind Your Pride #thinking aloud #brain don't do it #my brain did a thing #gdi brain #behind the scenes mini fic #might as well #fic ideas #fic idea

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writesbatty · 7 years ago

Text

days 14-29

complete with unedited content notes from the facebook group i’m in

29/30

i love to rewrite the classics

to make persephone send hades running

(keep that 'rewriting the story of persephone as a love story’ shit several hundred miles from me, thanks.)

to give echo back her voice

to let arachne weave her tapestries once more

rewrite pride and prejudice so lydia bennet does not marry a rapist

get jane eyre out of her aunt's home sooner rather than later

find ophelia a therapist

remind everyone that tragedy can still have a happy ending

28/30 content warning: mentions/discussions of sex and consent. this is very vulnerable and im uncomfortable and DOING IT ANYWAY rip

i tell my boyfriend i think we should start scheduling sex

but that this is not some indication of failure in our relationship

i know he worries that my complicated relationship with sex is some reflection of how attractive i find him

(it doesn't help that the past few years seem to have taken my ease of flattery away from me

i don't know when it got so hard to tell the love of my life he looks good in tank tops

and black jeans like the ones he wore when i met him)

but it's not that

it's that i don't think about it, the same way i don't notice i am hungry till i'm starving, don't notice i'm thirsty till my head aches and spins, don't notice i am anxious until i am already in the middle of panic

it's that i was in a relationship where i never thought about the word no, it never occurred to me as an option, and now i end up consumed with pointless worry that i do not really want this

i try to talk to my therapist about these things, but i never really know what to say

how to explain my ex never set out to hurt me and half of it was my fault, but i am still feeling the aftershocks years later

without sounding like i am making excuses

(maybe i am, i don't know, i have always had a hard time with blame, with holding others accountable)

but at the same time i never want to imply what happened was more serious than it was

nothing like a genuine violation, nothing that should label me victim or survivor

nothing like what others have gritted their teeth and fought through

maybe some of it is the meds

it's hard to tell

how much is the meds and how much is the trauma and how much is just me

and why has it been six years and i still can't

-casually tell my boyfriend he has a nice ass

-sit in my boyfriend's lap

-fearlessly messily uninhibitedly make out with my boyfriend

because some paranoid corner of my mind is afraid to say 'no'

(nothing would happen if i said no, because everything would stop happening, it's not fear that makes me question, it's the idea of disappointing someone i love, and that's all on me, not on him)

my boyfriend is an angel with a nice ass

(seriously, i am not overstating this, he has a very nice, round butt)

and when i tell him

i think we should start scheduling sex

he kisses the top of my head

and talks about how bob and linda on bob's burgers schedule sex, and they have like, the best marriage on television, so clearly we're in good company

and pulls me over to the couch to feed me ice cream and scratch my back

27/30 warning for like. harry potter/jkr 'discourse' or something i guess?

listen, we all should have known jk rowling was going down in flames the moment she made harry james potter a fucking MAGICAL COP at the end of the series

i have a list of problems with the deathly hallows epilogue that is longer than the actual epilogue and this is at least three of them

will somebody cut harry a fucking break?

why on earth would someone punish this abused, traumatized, exhausted person by giving them a career that will repeatedly remind them of every bad thing that has ever happened, which is most things that have happened to harry potter

harry potter should have been the defense against the dark arts instructor

harry potter has intimately seen both sides, every inch of light and dark

and he saw them as a child, he grew in them like a weed in brackish water, an in between neither fresh nor salt

(but he chose good, he always chose good, and it was always a choice, and it wasn't always easy)

let him teach other children to protect themselves

let him eat lunch with neville longbottom so they can discuss their students and make sure no teacher ever treats kids the way snape treated his students

the way snape treated harry and neville

let harry spend his weekends in hogsmeade with friends both old and new remembering only the light spots in the dark days of his schooling

let him know the joy of helping a struggling student

(this is how he will carry on remus lupin's legacy; that and the bar of honeyduke's finest chocolate in his desk)

let harry potter retire and spoil the ever loving shit out of all of his grandchildren

let harry potter put the past behind him

consider the fact that we don't all want to devote our lives

to fighting the demons we met in childhood

26/30

nightmare at 20,000 feet is the most terrifying episode of the twilight zone

and what an apt title

what an apt metaphor

because what could ever be more nightmare then knowing the worst is just outside the window

but no one else can see it

25/30 this ends like super abruptly but idk how to end it Properly and i need sleep so. shrug emoji.

it's like a bad joke, this harmless word that never stops following me

you know those tasteless reddit posts about trigger warnings? how there's 'no way' someone could be traumatized by something so normal

so small

that's me. i am that joke.

a man at the aquarium calls his young daughter pumpkin and i–

i swallow a wave of nausea

i try to ignore the way my skin begins to crawl

and my heart speeds up

and i can hear the sound of his voice

it's like time travel

it's like a curse

just say 'pumpkin' and i fly back in time and it's like my body does not know that he is dead

that he hasn't called me pumpkin in nearly a decade

you would think it would be the mocking, the insults, that would ring like shots through my echo chamber brain

but

it's that fucking petname

it's 'i'm sorry, pumpkin' in his voice and the look in his eyes as he digs the hole in my chest just a little bit deeper with another fake apology

an apology all for him

when he came to my high school graduation there were rules

-he could not drink

-he could not apologize

-he could not call me pumpkin

24/30

it's funny

this disconnect between the me i know and the me other people know

at home i pace the floor, building up the courage to call for a cab

at work they tell me i am good with people, that i am no nonsense

at home, i twist my hair in my fingers as i struggle to tell my partner of nearly six years i need something to eat

at school they called me confident, self assured

i wonder where this other me is when i need them most

where is this confident and self assured version of me when something actually happens?

when someone is in trouble?

when someone gropes me in the street?

when someone needs them?

when i need them?

23/30

weirdly specific sections i wish i could find at the bookstore:

unconventional sci written by women and queer people

dystopian fiction that ends hopefully

non-ableist romance novels with disabled protagonists written by disabled people

young adult romance novels about lesbians and magic with happy endings

poetry for queer girls who really like artemisia gentileschi's art

collections of personal essays about hospital waiting rooms

college kids from dysfunctional families getting their shit together and falling in love

narratives about found families of misfits

young adult novels about queer romance and theatre kids

the exact novels you needed to read at 15 when you were scared and alone and will still make you cathartically sob while reading in a public park

(this last section is real except it's just the francesca lia block shelves in the young adult section)

how to guides on how to be a person when your body and the world you live in are crumbling to pieces rapidly

advice on how to make your best friends move out of state to be closer to you

novels where the protagonist goes through hell but they come out the other side and are still an essentially good and optimistic person despite their trauma because the world is a terrifying place and we need fiction and narrative to remind us of the potential for hope

22/30

edit: i just word vomit typed this directly into the comment box and it got weirdly long so Be Aware

elle woods is my personal hero

i'm blonde

'yes sarah'

i'm sure you're thinking

'i know, i have seen you'

but it's more than that, okay? i am blonde on the inside. my heart and soul are blonde. i talk to people and they say 'i can't imagine you not blonde' because the concept of me any other way is absurd

maybe because its the one thing everyone always loved about me. when i was a kid, everyone wanted to play with my hair. i had barbie hair, disney princess hair. long blonde waves like strands of gold.

i grew up telling blonde jokes, so everyone would know i was Smart and Cool. i got teased for being a nerd and a four eyes and for awhile everyone called me 'dictionary' because i knew how to spell zombie. smart was more important to me than cool, but i still told blonde jokes. the blonde swims ninety percent of the way to the other shore, gets tired, and swims all the way back, and god if that isn't a metaphor for my life. god if i haven't spent 25 years fighting not to be the blonde who turned back.

when i almost failed math in my freshman year of high school my father told me i should give up and become a playboy bunny because i didn't have a future. a childhood friend asks when i will grow out of the color pink.

i am a blonde the way i am pink. spiteful. elle woods walking malibu barbie through the halls of harvard. elle woods taking notes in pink sparkling pen. elle woods handing in her scented resume printed on pink paper.

elle woods saying

'what, like it's hard?'

i tape my thesis pages to the wall with glitter tape and pin my blonde hair back with a flower clip and i wear baby pink leather heels with bows on them.

'what, like it's hard?'

21/30

why do the aliens always want to kill us?

why do we always build a giant weapon?

why can't the aliens come to earth to help us?

why aren't scifi movies about healing?

20/30

ode to vestibular stimming

i do not like metal music

i'm sorry, it's just not my thing

but good god do i understand why people head bang

and why people mosh

when i was a kid i loved jumping on the trampoline, and the way it made my heart and brain jump and soar and bounce

now i can't jump on trampolines anymore but

i can listen to british pop music in my living room and laugh and feel that soar and jump and bounce as i swing my head from side to side and up and down and sometimes, for extra fun, twist my torso around a little

like i am so much energy and so little body but finally it has somewhere to go as my hair swishes against my face and an unstoppable grin spreads across my face and

don't you ever wanna just let go?

don't you ever wanna shake your head until the dizzy chases everything else away?

19/30

i like to talk to the creatures in the tanks when i do my aquarium rounds

the old man of an octopus in the floor tank i call gramps

my favorite sea star, a purple velcro star in the touch tanks, i call zippy

mostly i just call everything 'buddy'

'hey buddy, how ya doing today?' or 'come on buddy, scootch down from the top of the glass'

i apologize to the anemones when they close up because people have touched them too much

and i apologize to the jellies when it takes me more than one try to scoop them out so i can change their water

in middle school i noticed a rip on my baby doll's neck so i made her a neck brace from the sash of a build a bear robe and propped her up on pillows every night, so she wouldn't rip anymore

i am nearly 25 and i still feel guilty when my stuffed animals fall to the ground

i am nearly 25 and i keep multiple stuffed animals in the bed i share with my boyfriend of nearly six years

a common misconception of autism and other similar social disorders is that people on the spectrum do not experience empathy

and in some cases this is true

but an often ignored aspect of these disorders is that anything you could lack, you can also have too much of

hyper-empathy is when you are so receptive to others feelings they become your own

they become so much your own it causes you physical distress

and everything

everything

has feelings

i once got sad about throwing away a pair of pants because i had them for just... so long

i once cried on an apartment balcony because my neighbors i had never met, never even SEEN, were fighting

today i watched a young boy scare simon, a seagull who hangs out by the aquarium, by screaming at him

and it broke my heart a little even though i not especially fond of birds and am, in fact, kind of afraid of them

sometimes i sit and think about the things my dad experienced and my aching too big heart thinks

maybe it was okay

maybe the things he said were okay, because of what happened to him

my aching too big heart always forgets

things happened to my mother, too

things happened to me, too

and neither of us turned out like that

articles on the internet talk about hyper-empathy like a super power

call it 'being an empath'

to me it has always felt more like a bruise

like my aching too big heart just can't stop pumping blood to the tender surface of my skin

18/30

a very angry letter to a lady who came into the aquarium yesterday. less poem and more just 'complaining' but wow, i am still mad like 36 hrs later

for the love of god, lady

what is your fucking problem?

you are a grown adult. you have multiple children, some of whom are teenagers, and this is how you behave, in public, in front of your family?

are you incapable of basic human decency? did no one ever teach you manners?

yes, there is a disabled person and their caretaker in this aquarium, and yes the person is making noise. people make noise. you are in a fucking public place. children scream in here literally all the time. the seals scream. parents scream. sometimes the people who work here scream, because it is the only way you can hear us over the damn seals.

so why, lady, do you feel the need to make some rude ass comment about a person you don't even know, and look at me like

you expect me to play along

i wish i could say something to you but i am an employee and that is not polite but

if i was just a person i would tell you to shove it

but i wish i could have been a staff member AND told you to shove it

so i could have told you, hey, lady

this person helping you, telling you all this information about sea stars, is also fucking disabled

and your rude as hell eye roll and 'oh great, here we go' and 'really?' and loud scoffing is not appreciated

and frankly you can kiss my autistic ass and get the fuck out

17/30

capitalism is broken

and the reason i know this is because of jurassic park

not the franchise but the canon, the universe it exists in

every time i complain about the jurassic park universe

demanding to know why, for the love of GOD, do people keep opening these parks full of dangerous dinosaurs

someone always tells me 'the money, obviously'

as if capitalism was a reasonable excuse for making a super t-rex that eats people

as if money were an excuse for making yet another death trap

yet another super dinosaur that's going to –inevitably– escape and eat and/or traumatize someone

the idea that the people who built jurassic world looked at the events of jurassic park and thought

the money is worth it

we won't fuck up this time

is completely fucking baffling to me

i suppose maybe i am meant to see this as a heartwarming representation of the american refusal to fail

if at first you don't succeed, try try again, after all!

but i think about the news article i read last night

about how insurance companies worry curing diseases is not profitable

and i think about all the lives lost and therapy needed because everyone in jurassic world refused to learn from john hammond's mistakes

and i don't think any of this is saying americans refuse to fail

it's just saying we don't care how many times we kill people if there's good money to be made

16/30, inspired by how affectionate the characters on new girl are with each other

all through high school i did theatre, and i don't know if this is a universal theatre kid thing, or just something we all did

but we were all about physical contact

we were a bunch of misfit touch starved pets

piling seven teenagers on one sofa, every part of you touching somebody, every part of you warm

and i miss that

all that platonic but physical affection

i am a very affectionate person, and i find myself fighting to seem 'normal' in social situations

reminding myself not to wrap my arms around people, or rest a hand on someone's leg, or call casual friends babe, or offer people bites of food

this is how i lived all of high school

sitting in laps, holding hands in the halls, kisses hello, shared drinks and forks

i miss it

i don't understand our desire as a society to deem intimate touch romantic

why shouldn't i kiss my best friend on the cheek? why shouldn't friends hold hands?

we are social creatures, after all

we don't start out like this

we sleep in heaps at slumber parties, we play doctor, we play house, we do each other's hair

why does all that stop because we get old enough to want to kiss people?

doesn't that seem silly?

15/30 write more love poems about your friends guys. love your friends tell people you love them. i love telling people i love them. i love u. all of u. here's a poem about my best friend aka the greatest human on earth, the guildenstern to my rosencrantz

so i've known my best friend since 9th grade

except

except actually i met her in 3rd grade and didn't know it until 10th grade

and she wasn't my best friend until college

except

except she was, i think, maybe the whole time and we just didn't know it

on my fifteenth birthday she came with me to get my nose pierced and gave me a hand drawn birthday card that quoted my favorite green day song

once we spent six hours on skype drawing bad caricatures of celebrities

and when i left to grab a snack she yelled after me

"don't you go where i can't follow"

our senior year we read "rosencrantz and guildenstern are dead" for ap english and we started calling each other rosencrantz and guildenstern

and when she gave her senior project speech on william faulkner she cried, not because she was nervous, but because she loves faulkner and she got emotional

she is exactly 12 days older than me, and a taurus, and she plays a bunch of different instruments and one day we're going to start a folk punk band called the rebel amish

last summer we went to the deyoung together and laid in a shag covered bean bag chair watching the light show in the summer of love exhibit for like an hour

and we took a selfie in some giant gold antique mirror

and when i picture my future, she is as much a part of it as my boyfriend

this other love of my life, this girl with the bright eyes and the once broken nose and who is always willing to sit and talk about books

or the shitty people we went to high school with

or weird titles for potential memoirs

this amazing person, who is the only person i would trust to drive me through marin county while eating a mcdonalds cheeseburger

it is a different kind of love, sure

but it is a love story

and it is ours

14/30 which i wrote but forgot to post because i was playing video games

i wish my own mysteries were this easy to solve

just look for the spot that glows

and unearth what's hiding

no crying

no years of therapy

no buried memories

just point and click

#napowrimo #National Poetry Month #National Poetry Writing Month #LONG AS FUCK im sorry

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fae-fucker · 7 years ago

Text

Crown of Midnight: Chapter 3-4

Chapter 3

Nothing fucking happens. Sardines has a nightmare about Cain and later she and Nehemia talk about the rebellion and the king’s plans without really saying anything, and my hatred for that fucking dog just keeps growing. Observe.

Fleetfoot took off through the pale grass like a bolt of golden lightning

[...]

Dorian had never said what breed, exactly, he suspected her mother had mated with. Given Fleetfoot’s size, it could have been a wolfhound. Or an actual wolf.

Are you telling me this fucking dog is a fucking golden wolf?

I will eat this spaghetti-lookin’ bitch.

Nehemia’s creamy brown face paled slightly.

Why does the word “creamy” upset me so much in this?

Nehemia wants Sardines to try to figure out what the king is planning, but Sardines is like “nah”.

She wasn’t even sure if she truly wanted to know what the king was up to—let alone share that information with anyone else. It was selfish, and stupid, perhaps, but she couldn’t forget the warning the king had given the day he crowned her Champion: if she stepped out of line, if she betrayed him, he’d kill Chaol. And then Nehemia, and then the princess’s family.

But then, literally the next sentence:

And all of this—every death she faked, every lie she told—put them at risk.

Sardines: Hmm. Finding out the king’s sinister plans and telling my allies about them is a bad idea -- even though said allies desperately need that information -- because that might put them at risk, but saving various noblemen for no reason and put my unknowing allies in danger just so I can keep the moral high ground makes total and absolute sense!

What a master schemer this idiot is, huh?

WHAT A KWEEN.

People say they love Sardines but hate Alien and I frankly don’t get it. Sardines has always been a dumb, selfish twat, that will clearly never change.

Celaena swallowed hard. That word—“act”—scared her more than she’d like to admit.

Good self-burn there, buddy.

Chapter 4

Salad (which is my new nickname for Chaol) and Sardines are having a jog.

They’d bundled up as best they could without weighing themselves down—mostly just layers of shirts and gloves— but even with sweat running down his body, Chaol was freezing.

Layers of gloves? What the fuck?

Noticing his stare, she flashed him a grin, those stunning turquoise eyes full of light.

Eat my entire ass, Sarah.

Salad angst about how he killed Cain. He’s very sad about it. This is what you get for hiring an inexperienced twenty-something to be the captain of the guard. But if we don’t make him young it’ll be icky for Sardines to fuck him, and if we don’t make him captain then he’s just NOT GOOD ENOUGH for Sardines, ain’t that right, Sarah?

I’d say you’re being transparent but you’re already pretty white.

He was the Captain of the Guard—he was bound to have killed someone at some point. He’d already seen and done enough in the name of the king; he’d fought men, hurt them.

SJM: Hey guys I’m clearly aware that this is dumb but if I acknowledge it’s dumb you’ll accept it, right?

No.

Salad asks Sardines if she ever thinks about the people she’s killed, and since she’s the most ruthless and epic and badass assassin the world has ever known, ever, she angsts on about how she never forgets anyone she kills.

I don’t give a single shit.

Salad angst about how he desperately wants to nestle his dick between Sardines’ pearly white and hairless asscheeks, but can’t because uuuuhhh angst angst loyalty to the king and also Dorian wants to do her and he doesn’t want to betray his friend.

Whatever. I don’t give a damn. Unlike many other antis, I don’t consider Chaol to be a good character and I couldn’t give less of a shit about his problems.

Listen. You guys only think he’s good because everyone else is pretty much terrible. You cling to him because his mediocrity looks impressive when compared to the literal ass-garbage that is the rest of the lineup.

We jump POV back to Sardines.

And what’s this? GIRL HATE? FOR ME?! IN CHAPTER FOUR?!

Christmas Yulemas has come early this year.

Since Salad is all sweaty from their jog and his shirt clings to his HOT MUSCLED MALE MANLY MASCULINE VIRILE MAN-BOD, there are DUMB VAPID BITCHES there to check him out.

Celaena could have sworn their eyes had bulged out of their heads and their tongues had rolled onto the ground.

Then the next morning, they’d appeared along the path again—wearing even nicer dresses. The day after that, more girls showed up. And then several more. And now every direct route from the game park to the castle had at least one set of young women patrolling, waiting for him to walk by.

“Oh, please,” Celaena hissed as they passed two women, who looked up from their fur muffs to bat their eyelashes at him. They must have awoken before dawn to be dressed so finely.

You see, when Sardines ogles Salad or Doriass, that’s okay because uuuuuuuuh Sarah loves her little baby girl and she can’t do no wrong and also she feels TRU WUV (even though her TRU WUV is made irrelevant with the arrival of Ratty to the point where every other love was just useless before that I guess) when she checks those boys out.

THESE GIRLS DRESS NICELY!! TO IMPRESS MEN!! WHILE ALSO CHECKING THEM OUT!!

THEY’RE VAPID DUMB BITCHES!! EVEN THOUGH THE ONLY WAY FOR WOMEN TO GET POWER IN THIS SOCIETY IS THROUGH MEN!! LOOK AT THEM AND LAUGH!! SO PATHETIC!!

Cool cool.

God, I hate this series so much.

Salad offers Sardines to help her with her Archer-related business and she turns him down.

Hey Salad, aren’t you, like, I dunno, the captain of the guard? Don’t you have STUFF TO DO?!

Sorry, I forgot that this world and its characters all revolve around Sardines and her problems. How silly of me.

They come across Doriass who is walking around with his cousin Roland, who I’m sure is totally chill.

His voice was pleasant enough, but something in it made her pause. It wasn’t amusement or arrogance or anger … She couldn’t put her finger on it.

[...]

Just the way he spoke told her enough about his history with women.

[...]

As she let Chaol lead her inside the castle, she realized she was in desperate need of a bath. But it had nothing to do with her sweaty clothes, and everything to do with the oily grin and roaming eyes of Roland Havilliard.

Yeah, I’m sure this guy is totally cool!

We all know that SJM can clearly write very nuanced characters and that this incredibly obvious and cliché character introduction is just here to mislead us and make us think that Roland is a gross douchebag only so Kween Sarah can prove us wrong and develop his character into someone truly heroic!

Anyway, turns out that Roland is the “lord” of some place called Meah, which doesn’t tell me anything, but whatever. He’s been offered a position on the king’s council, which is suspicious, apparently, because Roland is more interested in getting his dick wet rather than politicking. This is framed as disgusting, even though that’s pretty much exactly what Doriass is. It’s not the first nor the last time SJM makes hypocritical exceptions for her faves.

Doriass introduces Sardines as Lillian.

They still used her alias whenever she couldn’t avoid running into members of the court, though most everyone knew to some degree that she was not in the palace for administrative nonsense or politics.

So the official story is that a petty jewelry thief became the king’s champion, then?

Holy shit, this world is filled with morons.

I also love how “administrative nonsense” and “politics” are looked down upon, but when Sardines does her BRILLIANT MIND GAMES, it’s not politics, it’s uuuuh ... Fuck man, I can’t even begin to imagine how SJM’s mind works.

Roland hits on Sardines, and her two daddies really don’t like that.

Chaol smiled—if you could call it that. It was more a flash of teeth.

Have you considered that I don’t care and that this clarification doesn’t matter?

She wouldn’t mind working with him—but not in the way Roland meant. Her way would include a dagger, a shovel, and an unmarked grave.

Actually, her way would include a corpse, a staged murder scene, and the hope that he stays hidden and nobody recognizes him for who he is.

Eat my entire ass, Sarah.

We switch to Doriass’ POV.

Chaol positively hated Roland, and whenever he came up in conversation, it was usually accompanied by phrases like “conniving wretch” and “sniveling, spoiled ass.”

So Sardines and Doriass, respectively, though “conniving” might be overstating it.

Roland was a pain in the ass, and too aware of the effect his looks and his Havilliard name had on women, but he was harmless. Wasn’t he?

Dorian didn’t know the answer—and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to.

SJM: Subtlety? I don’t know her.

We switch back to Sardines’ POV.

Her salary as King’s Champion was considerable, and Celaena spent every last copper of it. Shoes, hats, tunics, dresses, jewelry, weapons, baubles for her hair, and books. Books and books and books.

Books? She likes reading? How relatable? You like reading too, don’t you, young female reader who is the target demographic for this book? Don’t you feel connected to Sardines on a deep, meaningful level?

You see, when other women dress nice, they’re whores and idiots and brainless. When Sardines does it, she’s just embracing her femininity!

Ain’t that right, White Feminism?

Whatever. Doriass is there in her room/s when she returns, which she doesn’t approve of.

“Aren’t friends allowed to visit each other more than once a day?”

She stared down at him. Being friends with Dorian wasn’t something she was certain she could actually do.

Seems like SJM has been taking writing lessons from Cakeass.

Didn’t you spend an entire book angsting about how you couldn’t be friends with Doriass and then deciding that you would rather stay friends than be lovers? And now you’re back on square one? Are we really doing this again?

I’m so tired.

“And you have so much time on your hands these days that you can spend hours with me again?”

“Well, I have my usual flock of ladies to attend to, but I can always make time for you.”

Dorian is written as a player, but whenever we see him interact with women who are not Sardines, he’s shitty and hateful towards them. But it’s okay though, right? Because those dumb sluts are worthless and stupid, not amazing and brilliant like Sardines! It’s okay that Dorian clearly doesn’t respect any other woman aside from Sardines (and presumably Nehemia, since SJM has bestowed her godly blessing upon her for now), because those other women are simply not worthy of any respect!

And obviously, even though Dorian clearly wants Sardines but plays around with other women, that’s totally fine! Women checking out men though? That’s disgusting.

SARAH J MAAS IS A FEMANAST KWAAAN!

Doriass makes it clear he still wants to tap that, but Sardines tells him to fuck off.

Alone in the foyer, Celaena clenched and unclenched her fists, suddenly disgusted with all of the pretty packages on the table.

Eat my entire ass.

#eff reads: crown of midnight #book rants #anti tog #anti sjm

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luirlar · 8 years ago

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HOLY SHIT. Kara has John, John has bombs attached to his chest, they have a virus of some sort. Flashbacks and present time events introduce a new big bad while sending off an old one. Everything looks very big and very bad in this episode, and it is great to watch. And I get a lot of John x Harold feelings, which is great to witness, I hope. This one is long but I am pretty happy with it. Buckle up.

I have watched the whole show before, so SPOILERS MIGHT HAPPEN. Big spoilers will be blanked out but references and irrelevant spoilers are going to be out in the open.

Last bits on POI: After months of looking for The Man in the Suit (I cannot ever overstate how ridiculous this nickname is to me), Donnelly finally catches on and catches up with Carter and Reese. He is ready to bring them to jail and then Kara Stanton rams a literal goddamn truck into the plot (and my heart), shoots Donnelly, and sedates John.

The episode opens exactly the moment where we left off. Carter’s phone rings: it’s Finch. Carter tells him that she thinks the woman who took John used to be his CIA partner, and just as she says this, Finch enters the latest number he’s received from the Machine: Kara Stanton’s. So what the hell is up? A fucking ride that awaits us in this episode and the mess that it triggers, which directly and indirectly carries on till the series’ end. It’s that big of a bad, friends.

John wakes up in a bus, next to Mark Snow (who we last saw warning Joss about a Big Thing “She” Has Planned), opposite to Kara, and he strapped to a bomb vest.

Kara: I know you don’t care about yourself, John, but you’ve got enough semtex strapped in you to spread a lot of misery around.

Gosh. Kara Stanton makes me melt every time she opens her mouth. So cold, so evil, so calm and certain about the absolute havoc she can wreck.

John: So what’s this really about? Kara: This is about three dead little spies in a brave new world. It’s about the afterlife, John, and us negotiating our places in it.

Well, that sounds like a good, wholesome time.

Carter is called to the crime scene where Donnelly was shot, where she was but isn’t telling. Fusco suspects something is up, but Joss can’t tell him squat. I always feel a special appreciation for Fusco. He knows the least about what’s going on at all times, and he knows people hide shit from him, and yet he always helps. He has faith in the team, and I love him for it. They all set out to find out more about Kara and what she might be up to, which is difficult, what with her being declared dead a few years back and all.

On the first stop of their #assassin #throwback tour, John and Mark are supposed to pick up a hard drive, but the sellers try to get smart about the payment, so Kara gives out a kill order. Both Mark and John hesitate, so Kara shoots the sellers for them. Wait, she was in the room with them? No, no. From a rooftop, across the street, with a sniper rifle. She gives no shits whatsoever.

*fans self*

[2010] We are taken back to a scene we’ve seen before, where Alicia Corwin and Mark Snow send Kara and John to Ordos to retrieve the laptop, and where Mark tells both Kara and John separately that their partner has been compromised and needs to be killed. We also get a repeat of the scene where John refuses to shoot Kara, Kara shoots John, and John connects the dots about them being set up. We again see John running away from the building just in time to escape the missiles sent to bump them both off, but then… we see Kara wounded, and being picked up by some sort of uniformed squad. She wakes up in a hospital-looking place, and an Ominous British Man (not yet named) greets her. He tells her that he knows who she is and why she’s there and he doesn’t need her to talk, and that they’ll get along great. Not creepy at all.

John and Mark’s second stop is knocking out some ATF (Alcohol, Tobacco & Firearms) agents and impersonate them. In what? A fake bomb threat in an office building. Because Kara couldn’t resist the joke, apparently. I too love joking around while strapping explosives to my former coworkers. John sends a text to Finch indicating he is carrying explosives, and the text allows Finch to know where he was, and who the phone belonged to.

Once inside the building, Kara tells the bomb bros to go to a super secured floor that doesn’t exist in the building’s public records. We know this because Carter, Finch and Fusco are good at detective-ing. Because the episode was not stressful enough, Kara informs us that the signal might be bad inside whatever super secured secret place the boys are headed to, so she puts a timer on their bomb vests.

[2011] We’re back in the hospital-looking place, but some time has passed (I hadn’t noticed the time stamp! This episode and plot point makes more sense to me now!).Ominous British Man babbles about the Titans – Kara’s bosses are the old gods, Kara is part of the new gods, the old gods wanted to eat her because they were afraid of her, or something – and Kara is done with his shit.

Kara: If I break your neck, can I go back to watching TV? She may be tired and is probably being tortured, but she can still sass people out like a champ.

Ominous British Man clarifies that he doesn’t work for any government, and that money is not his business, information is. He offers Kara the name of the person he labels as responsible for the state she is currently in, the person who sold the laptop Kara and John were sent for. (How badly did they psychologically torture and manipulate Kara for that to make sense to her, that the person responsible for her misery is not who gave the kill order, but the person who sold a laptop that she knows nothing about?! Anyway.) In exchange for what, Kara (and we) ask?

Ominous British Man: Do you remember how the Titans were finally killed? Before they could eat their youngest child, Zeus, he wrapped a boulder in his swaddling clothes, then watched as his father choked on it.

What the hell is this Brit on? It’ll all become clear in time (or not, I had to think really hard and read some wikipedia shit to get it, but I’m not a greek mythology buff so maybe you know exactly what this means right now.). He speaks in very obnoxious riddles. I wish Kara would have broken his neck to be honest.

Carter and Fusco are at the building where John and Mark are, but downstairs. John manages to quickly call Finch, and they both figure that since theyre basically in a DOD cyber weapons lab, Kara is probably trying to steal a virus that would shut down the entire internet, or specific networks, or something. She’s stealing something big, that’s for sure.

Unless… Unless John is the most predictable broody white knight in the world and Kara is a cold-hearted bitch who knows him too well. Kara knew John wouldn’t follow orders, would assume Kara wanted to steal something, and would erase all the drives with all the Very Bad Viruses.

Kara didn’t want any of the Very Bad Viruses, because she had a Very Very Bad one. Or at least, a very specific one that she needed to delete the others for. I don’t know how any of that works, can you tell? In any case, she unleashes the virus into the world, sets the timer of the bomb vests to 5 minutes, and skedaddles. But not before John tries his usual emotional “you don’t have to do this, we can hold hands and make the world better together” shtick, and Kara stares dead in his eyes with zero emotional response. Yikes, John, your white knight moves are starting to rust or something.

Mark tries to make a run for his life, with less than 5 minutes to do whatever he can. And then, then All Of The Feelings happen: As John is trying to head to the rooftop (cause his broody white knight redemption arc has to end in a fucking rooftop, right?) to try to hit as little civilians with his explosion as possible, Carter gets to his floor.

Carter: You don’t have to do this. John: You know I do. ‘Cause you’d do the exact same thing.

I mean, I mock his broody self-sacrificing shtick a lot, but it is absolutely the thing to do when you know you’re in all likelihood gonna blow up. And I think it’s because John’s character rarely shows emotions in his face, on purpose, but when he does, it cuts through my misandrist soul and makes me want to hug him and then punch him for making me Feel Things. Between that, and the amazing score as per POI usual, and Taraji’s always amazing performance, I am More than a Lil’ Stressed™. John heads to the rooftop, ready to die. Show’s over folks. But then again…

Finch: So I see I’m not too late…

So, you see, when John warned Finch over the DOD phone to stay clear of the building, what Finch actually heard was, “get as close to me and the building and the fucking bomb as humanly possible”. John tries to stop Finch by… pointing a gun at him? Which, for one, is rude, and more importantly, ridiculously useless in this context.

John: This is my past catching up to me. This doesn’t concern you. Harold: But this moment does. I’m not leaving you, John. So can we please stop wasting time?

Husbands that hang ’round bombs together, stay together. Unless their remains are scattered by the explosion. Sorry. Finch has 3 attempts at one of five combinations. Yikes. And the first one fails.

John: … Sorry.

In the meantime, Kara is making her way out of the building and calls Ominous British Man, who is still not given a name, a purpose, a boss, or a plan. Just a vague creepy Big Bad feel. He carries on speaking in riddles, making grand empty statements, and Kara cuts him off and asks for the goddamn name of the person who sold the laptop and indirectly sent her to Ordos, the name she went through all this trouble to get. Ominous British Man tells her a name is all he has, since this person apparently doesn’t exist in any known database. She jots down a name in a piece of paper. *INTRIIIIIGUE*

Back up in the rooftop, everyone is about to cry. Except me, I’m already crying.

John: I’m pretty sure I’d be dead already if you hadn’t found me. Harold: It’s hard to say. John: Not really.

This is a beautiful moment, except… why does Harold say it’s hard to say? It’s pretty straight forward to say, no? (Except… wait for it.) Harry looks like he is about to cry, which I guess one would if a bomb was about to blow up literally on the face. Goddamn, though, Michael Emerson is an acting champ. This is, on paper, a super contrived moment, but they make it work for me. In a completely unrealistic cliche moment that is only made bearable because the alternative would have been Captain America and his sugar daddy dying, Finch deactivates the bomb on the third and final try, 7 seconds before it is set to detonate.

We’re taken back to Kara’s car, and something is beeping. Her backseat. That has Mark Snow in it. He decided to do something positive (in-universe, negative for all Kara fans like myself) with his life for once, and take Kara with him to the sweet sweet afterlife. Goodbye, you sexy Big Bad motherfucker. John gets back to the library where Bear greats him happily, and John thanks Finch, all teary eyed. At the precinct, the FBI tells Carter that Mark Snow must have been the Man in the Suit, so they close that case. All’s good and right and there are no mysteries left to solve here. Ta-dah!

What, you thought that was all? Sweet summer child. Did you forget Kara got the name of the guy who sold the laptop and started a whole trainwreck of events that brought us to this very episode, and in a way, brought this whole series into being? Maybe you don’t care. That’s fair. Who cares. Fuck The (Ominous British) Man.

Unless…

Mother of HECK. Yes, you read that right. Harold Finch! How? Why? When? What was that latop, then? (Sure, *now* you wanna know..!) WHAT THE FUCK?! *INTRIIIIIIGUE*

I know, I know. But the whole history of the laptop will not become clear until the second half of season 3, so you’d better get comfy with that unsettling feeling in your stomach. Aaaaand the virus Kara activated is set to go off in five months and change. *INTRIIIIGUE*.

** A note on Kara’s time with Ominous British Man: BIG SPOILERS FOR SEASON 4 AND 5 AHEAD ** Why do I say she was in all likelihood tortured? And that the time stamps make this episode make sense to me? Well, the first (and second) time I watched this episode< I wondered how come Kara turned so easily on her country – because remember, she always did her job, or said she did, for her country. Why would she do a job for a dubious mysterious man, a job that could endanger a lot of people? She asked zero questions for a man who was in no way her boss, or shouldn’t have been. I suspected some torturing or intense indoctrination might have taken place, but I didn’t think much of it other than “really? that easy?” But then season 5 happened. And we see how Shaw gets tortured and gaslighted and manipulated. On the one hand I’m glad we don’t get to see that, but on the other the blanks that aren’t filled make Kara seem like a godless spiteful easy traitor. Not because your bosses sending to kill you isn’t good reason to be vengeful, but it shouldn’t be for a trained, hardcore agent. Unless extreme measures were used, which they probably were. Anyway, I love talking about Kara Stanton and I love her.

Today I (re)watch: Person of Interest, 2.13 HOLY SHIT. Kara has John, John has bombs attached to his chest, they have a virus of some sort.

#Dead Reckoning #Decima Technologies #John Greer #John x Harold #Kara flashbacks #Kara Stanton #Person of Interest #POI season 2 #poi2x13 #the Ordos laptop

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amazingviralinfo · 7 years ago

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Wests life and music have combined into an ongoing piece of performance art one that appears unsustainable at this pitch

In an era when the likes of Beyoncé can release perfectly formed records without warning, the saga of Kanye Wests seventh album has been comically messy. He first announced it a year ago, under the name So Help Me God, but postponed its release by several months while renaming it Swish, Waves and, finally, The Life of Pablo.

In the weeks prior to its grandiloquent live-streamed launch at Madison Square Garden on Thursday an album playback featuring celebrity guests and an army of black models debuting Wests latest Yeezy fashion line he posted a series of perplexingly self-destructive tweets on topics including his ex-girlfriend Amber Rose and Bill Cosby. Even for a man who clearly subscribes to Oscar Wildes dictum, There is only thing in the world worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about, it was a bizarre display.

West, 38, is arguably the most important pop artist of his era and certainly the most compelling, for good or ill. He speaks, and indeed acts, in superlatives. In recent years he has described himself, not always entirely seriously, as the greatest living rock star on the planet, the new Steve Jobs, a potential US president and, simply, the nucleus. Inevitably, he inspires extreme reactions.

When he was booked for last years Glastonbury festival, more than 130,000 people signed a petition calling for an insult to music fans all over the world to be dropped. The vehemence of such attacks on an apologetically outspoken black man doubtless had a racist dimension but that alone does not explain why the rapper is such a uniquely polarising figure.

West was brought up to achieve great things. Born in Atlanta, Georgia, but raised in Chicago by his mother, Donda, an academic, he was given the name Kanye meaning only one Omari wise man and she taught him above all to love himself. In her memoir Raising Kanye, Donda wrote that West inherited from his father Ray, a former member of the Black Panther party, little patience for what he thinks is unjust. Wests kindergarten teacher said to Donda: Kanye certainly doesnt have any problem with self-esteem, does he?

That dude was focused since he was a shorty because he knew what he wanted to do and he had a mother who supported the shit out of him, his friend and fellow rapper GLC once told Complex magazine.

Kanye West in 2004. Photograph: Frank Micelotta/Getty Images

After enrolling at art college in 1997, West dropped out to pursue production work for the likes of Jay Z, with a signature sound based on accelerated soul samples, and then fought doggedly to be taken seriously as a rapper.

I realised that he was going to make it happen and he didnt mind being an asshole, Damon Dash, Jay Zs partner in Roc-A-Fella Records, told Complex. If you dont mind being an asshole, youre not going to lose. He wasnt scared, he had gall. A decade later, West told the New York Times: I knew I was going to make it this far; I knew that this was going to happen.

In October 2002, West was involved in a car crash that shattered his jaw and changed his life. He was convinced that God had saved his life and that he needed to write more profound lyrics. He described this epiphany in his 2003 single Through the Wire: a superheros origin story in which he emerges from a life-threatening accident stronger than ever. I knew I was dealing with a different human being after the accident, his managerGee Roberson told Complex. From that day forth, it was game on.

Unlike his mentor Jay Z, the middle-class West couldnt draw on a violent, hardscrabble youth for credibility so he had to create his own drama, trumpeting his talent and ambition to a degree that was unusual even by hip-hops self-aggrandising standards.

Im the closest that hip-hop is getting to God, he told journalists at an album playback in 2005. Talking to the Guardian afterwards, he described his florid braggadocio as both a form of self-motivation and a theatrical performance. Its like Im walking on this tightrope. Its like, damn, what if he falls? And if I do make it, its like, damn, he made it! But either way youre saying damn. Everybody else is just walking on the ground.

West backed up his rhetoric by constantly redefining what hip-hop could be. The College Dropout (2004) bridged the gulf between mainstream rappers and socially conscious underground MCs. The lavish Late Registration (2005) was co-produced by thefilm score composer Jon Brion. The Daft Punk-sampling, Nietzsche-quoting hit Stronger, from Graduation (2007), began hip-hops lucrative liaison with EDM. Most of its current stars, including Drake and Kendrick Lamar, walked through doors that West opened.

West is a tireless enthusiast with constantly expanding tastes and an ear for whats next. He has been adept at choosing collaborators, from big names such as Rihanna and Daft Punk to up-and-comers such as Arca and Kid Cudi, and taking inspiration from fashion, cinema, architecture and visual art. He is a famous perfectionist who claimed to have mixed his single Stronger 75 times before he was satisfied.

Logic would seemingly state that an album with so many people working on it would sound disjointed, but what Kanye manages to do is get the best out of everyone working towards one sound, the producer Evian Christ told Pitchfork in 2013. You cant really overstate how difficult it is to do that.

West is also an unpredictable lyricist who is equally capable of self-aware jokes, crass, misogynist punchlines and eloquent examinations of race and class. Early in his career, he spoke out against homophobia in hip-hop and blurted out George Bush doesnt care about black people during a telethon for victims of Hurricane Katrina, although he has only sporadically engaged with politics since. He is often at his best when he is being inappropriate. (Five years later, Bush called the incident the all-time low of his presidency.)

Wests behaviour changed dramatically after Donda Wests death in November 2007, from heart disease. He rarely talks about the loss but last year told Q that he blamed himself: If I had never moved to LA shed be alive. West became a more haunted and guarded figure, returning to music with 808s & Heartbreak (2008), a brave, introspective album that featured more Auto-Tuned singing than rapping and paved the way for Drake and The Weeknd.

Kanye West takes the microphone from Taylor Swift as she accepts her award during the MTV VMAs in 2009. Photograph: Jason DeCrow/Associated Press

The loss of his mother invited sympathy but the next turning point in Wests life inspired fury and derision. In 2009, he interrupted Taylor Swifts acceptance speech at the MTV Video Music Awards, bringing to the boil a long-simmering backlash. (West ungallantly references the incident on his new song Famous.) He retreated to his bunker if Hawaii can be called a bunker and made his decadent epic My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy (2010) with a legion of collaborators including Nicki Minaj, Bon Iver and Elton John. He later described it as a long backhanded apology.

In recent years, Wests ambition has become both grander and more diffuse. During interviews and concerts to promote Yeezus (2013), an audaciously abrasive electro-punk primal scream that he called a protest to music, he delivered long, furious monologues about his struggle to break into the fashion industry.

He increasingly seems more interested in clothes than in music Right now, over 70% of my focus is on apparel, he told Paper magazine and much more besides. He has compared himself to such world-changing figures as Picasso and Walt Disney, befriended the tech stargazer Elon Musk, and talked about his ambition to inspire an army of risk-taking cultural soldiers. You can see the growth from Im gonna be this great artist to I wanna do something that ignites a fire in peoples souls, he told Q.

However much credit West gets, it is never enough. In a 2013 interview he compared his critics to the eight-grade basketball coach who would not include him in the team even though he hit every shot. The next year, he made the team. West is driven by the desire to prove his doubters wrong, and fired up by his previous ability to do so.

While most high-profile artists accept that they cannot please everybody, West craves approval from establishment institutions that he appears to hate, from the Grammy awards to European fashion houses, as a point of principle. I dont care about the Grammys, he told the New York Times. I just would like for the statistics to be more accurate.

It is unclear what will happen when West can no longer hit every shot. The singles he released last year, including collaborations with Paul McCartney, were coolly received. His Glastonbury performance promised to be either a triumph or a disaster but, most reviewers agreed, fell somewhere in-between. Pitchforks Jayson Greene wrote: He is responsible for the current zeitgeist, but listening to his slightly confused new material, you get the distinct sense that hes struggling to find his current footing in it.

Reading Wests recent tweets, it is impossible to work out exactly what he is trying to achieve. He is clearly a more volatile and erratic character than he used to be. Marriage and fatherhood are often stabilising influences but marrying Kim Kardashian in 2014 has pitched West into a tabloid world with an endless appetite for gossip. It is unlikely that he could retreat from the spotlight, as he did in 2009, even if he wanted to.

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Kanye West releases album and fashion collection at Madison Square Garden

His life and music have combined into an ongoing piece of performance art which is unsustainable at this pitch. No artist can remain the nucleus of pop culture indefinitely. One day, this extraordinarily successful figure will face the new challenge of learning to cope with no longer being the man everyone is talking about.

Potted profile

Born: Kanye Omari West, on 8 June 1977 in Atlanta, Georgia

Career: Began producing music for local Chicago rappers in his teens and landed his first high-profile job in 1999. Launched his solo career with The College Dropout in 2004. Has released six platinum albums, won 21 Grammy awards, designed several clothing lines, and featured twice on the Time 100 list of the most influential people in the world. Runs the record label Good Music and the creative content company Donda.

High point: Bouncing back with his magnum opus My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy in 2010 after his snafu at the Video Music Awards temporarily derailed his career: even Barack Obama called him a jackass. In December 2014, Pitchfork named it the best album of the decade so far.

Low point: The death of his mother in 2007, soon followed by his split from fiancee Alexis Phifer.

What he says: I will die for the art, for what I believe in, and the art aint always going to be polite.

What they say: Hes a brilliant madman. He cant help himself. Like, he doesnt have the same filters other people have. He has to blurt things out hes always saying inappropriate stuff. But he also has brilliant ideas, if you can get him to pay attention long enough Madonna.

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