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bears-ao3-blog · 1 month ago

Note

May I request Engie and Spy? I'm very curious about their relationship since it has only been implied through the story.

Need a Fixin' - requested by @limon-tagetes

There was a soft knock on Spy's quarter's doors and the Frenchman lifted his head from his catalogue of various gears and gadgets, pausing in the middle of circling one very interesting-looking, personally engraved cloak and dagger, since his old one had recently busted and was in need of replacing. He huffed in mild displeasure at being interrupted in the middle of his very important business, but he stood up regardless, setting his magazine down. He took a slow drag and put out his cigarette as well, offering up a simple:

"Just a moment."

before he finished and approached the door. He carefully turned the knob, on is guard as always, but it dropped the second his eyes trailed slightly down to see an awkward-looking Engineer attempting to put on a casual act. What the hell was Engineer doing here? Usually Spy was the one to approach the inventor. That's how their odd little relationship began. Engineer would always be working, a constant, something you don't often among the RED base, and if Scout or Pyro weren't already taking up his time, Spy would join him. At first, Spy never really said much, just smoked close by. Then Engineer had asked him to grab him a tool, and was pleasantly surprised that Spy could retrieve it without asking a million questions on what it looked like, what it did, how to use it. Spy simply got up, rummaged through Engineer's toolbox for a few seconds, and swiftly handed him the implement he asked for.

"Thanks, pardner, that was quicker'n a hiccup! I might hav'ta keep ya around."

Spy remembers the way the shorter man had looked at him, despite those stupid goggles that the sleuth hated – which he hated because they looked awful, of course...definitely not because Spy wishes he could see the other's face completely. Absolutely not. But the way he looked at him with that lopsided smirk as he spoke with that Texan accent in that voice of pure honey.

It made Spy question some things. Like his sanity, of course. Why the hell was this overqualified hillbilly who waves a wrench around getting a reaction like that out of him? Was there a gas leak? Were all of his years of smoking finally coming to a head as an incredibly misplaced tumor in his brain rather than lungs? This was ridiculous.

And it got even more ridiculous, because as the two continued to spend time together, Spy found himself looking forward to seeing him. His stupid jokes were actually funny. He wasn't annoying to be around like literally everyone else he had the displeasure of sharing a living quarters with. The man was fairly educated and could keep up with Spy's pretentious conversation topics. He genuinely enjoyed being around him. Now, he wasn't some schoolboy with a crush. It's not like he lied awake at night thinking about him!

...and then he started lying awake at night thinking about him. Seething that this tinkering simpleton in overalls managed to catch his attention. Fury coursing through his veins that he found this country bumpkin attractive. Maybe there was a gas leak, because there's no way in hell Engineer managed to lodge himself into Spy's usual type of quick-tongued, badass, capable women.

"Uhh...hey, Spooks."

Oh, yeah, he was right in front of him. Spy broke out of his freeze of mild shock, clearing his throat quietly.

"l'Ingénieur, I am surprised to see you here. Iz there a problem?"

"Oh, no, no. I just, uhh, haven't seen ya around lately."

Spy looked back into his private quarters and realized in horror that he was turning back and offering the other to join him. They both stared at each other in surprise and quickly reddening cheeks before Engineer smiled that damn smile and nodded.

"Well, sure!"

Spy hesitantly widened the door so Engineer could slip past him, tensing when the other's shoulder brushed past his chest. He peered down either hallway for any prying eyes, knowing news about this encounter would spread like wildfire. Spy never let people into his smoking room. So why in God's name was he letting Engineer?

It occurred to Spy that there were no places for Engineer to sit, and he was about to speak up about it when Engineer hopped up onto the arm of his lounge chair without a second thought, and Spy wished he never opened that stupid door. He gingerly sat down in the seat, looking up at Engineer, who had to twist to see the other. Engineer smiled again, tilting his head questioningly.

"So, whatcha been upta, Sneak?"

Spy pushed aside his panic at being so close to the other, despite the mildly awkward position they found themselves in, and hummed while thinking.

"Not much, I suppose. My cloaking watch has stopped working, so I was just in ze process of finding another."

Engineer perked up, his smile widening.

"Well, why didn'tcha say so sooner? Give it here, I'll take a look at it."

Engineer stuck out a gloved hand, an expectant look on his face. Spy eyed him skeptically before fishing the golden watch from his inner suit pocket, also taking out his cigarette case in the process. He lit up another while Engineer eyed the device quizzically. The tinkerer made a small sound of understanding and fished out a couple small tools from his belt. He twisted around again and the two made eye contact one more – well, as much eye contact as possible when one of the two's eyes were covered.

"I see what's wrong. I'll get it fixed in a jiffy, don't you worry."

Spy wanted to scream as he felt his face warm. He was so close and that stupid, godforsaken accent that he should not like was making his chest squeeze and he was kicking himself internally, repeatedly, to "get your jaw off the floor and speak already!"

"R-Right, yes. Of course...er, sank you, mon ami."

He was stuttering and mumbling like an idiot. This stupid man was making him stutter and mumble like an idiot! How embarrassing. He needed to pull himself together, immediately.

Thankfully, they quickly fell into their usual comfortable quietness as Engineer finicked around with the cloak and dagger, and Spy returned to browsing his spy catalogue for anything that caught his eye, time passing as they idly did their own thing in the other's company. It was 15 minutes or so later that Engineer pressed the activation button with a tiny click, and he suddenly vanished, slightly startling Spy. He froze as a shadow suddenly case over him and he slowly looked up to see Engineer directly in front of him, looming over him with his pleasant smile, offering the watch back with a small chuckle. All the moisture in Spy's mouth vanished as well, and he swallowed with a nervous click as he slowly took the watch. He quickly found himself, and his wide eyes and slightly raised brows were quickly replaced with his usually gloomy expression, glaring up at the man above him.

"Sank you for your assistance, but I must kindly request zat you refrain from toying around with my belongings, Ingénieur."

The inventor's smile turned sheepish and his hand trailed to the back of his neck to rub at it, and he laughed again, more nervous this time.

"Ah, sorry, Spooks. I'll keep that it mind."

There was a small pause before Engineer spoke up again.

"I should probably get back to the shop. Wanna tag along?"

Spy tore his eyes away from his fixed watch, to look at the other again, before his eyes averted as he gave it some thought. He sighed, feigning a begrudging look, despite the answer being a resounding yes within the privacy of his own mind.

"I suppose."

And then Engineer smiled that damn smile again, and Spy wonders how long he can keep doing this before he goes insane.

#team fortress 2 #tf2 #ao3 fanfic #tf2 spy #tf2 engineer #napoleon complex #spy x engineer #engineer x spy #old man yaoi <3 #spy is down bad and he is PISSED #prompt request #prompt responses #Bear's fics #so you see #that's where the trouble began #that smile #that damned smile #engineer is a cutie guys lets be honest

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bored-frog · 1 year ago

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Born and Raised

When I blew up at you, I was unable to properly express myself and how I felt, I let my anger take over, causing another drift between us because I can not be mature and maintain all the feelings coursing through me, ready to leap out of the prison that is my skin.

You don't know how guilty I feel for yelling, for arguing with you over something like this, a topic so delicate and important, I deeply apologize.

I am emotionally stubborn, everything I feel is felt strongly, nothing is half-assed inside my heart, which is why I'm so upset.

I understand that we walk in different shoes through life, you didn't ask for your pair and I didn't ask for mine, you don't know the pebbles and splinters tightly strapped beneath the material of mine, I don't know the full extent of what goes on beneath the surface of your socks and laces, but sometimes I feel that you judge me, that you compare yours to mine and get hostile with me because I must be walking on a fucking cloud; Appearances deceive.

When the world is throwing shit, you don't have to throw it at me too, I am not your enemy, I do not view you as less than, so why does it feel like you look down in disgust at me for the things I have no control over?

I feel positively shitty, I must be the dirtiest asshole bundled up in name brand toilet paper, right?

"You don't understand, but you can empathize."

"You'll never fucking understand, but I'm sure you can imagine the dirty caked up shit path I'm forced to walk through, while you glide through in a carriage you don't even have to work harder than everyone else to earn, don't insult me and say you do, how the fuck could you possibly get it?"

I hate it when you do that, when you say that, I am not riding on some high and mighty horse, my situation is just different, it's so god damn infuriatingly-annoyingly-frustratingly unfair when you do that, when you compare the two, it's as if I'm getting the biggest scowl from you every single time you bring it up; A "snobby brat" whining about her basket of lemons to an "untouchable."

I get nasty, snippy, and rude because of this sneering chokehold in the air between us when talks of the future is brought up, I dread the conversation every time, I don't want to discuss any of it, about me and "oh the places I can go," I try to give you hope and you roll your eyes at me, scoffing.

I'm a pretentious dick wasting the privilege I walk around with, this prized gift, this golden ticket that I want nothing more than to toss out because it feels awful to have; A worthless piece of shit wins the lottery but spends her life watching TV, a fucking insult.

I don't like the way you mentally side eye me, as the clock of aging ticks, you get more and more passively bitter with me, I uncomfortably twiddle my thumbs, wanting nothing more than to deal you a new hand of cards, for Life is a terrible dealer.

I understand and empathize that the fissured road you walk on isn't easy, nothing about the journey is brisk and fun, that it feels so demeaning, and that you have put in all your efforts alone as ungrateful assholes with birth rights and money drive around and honk at you, that they view you as this dirty dog beneath them, but don't look over and assume that mine must be a fucking breeze.

My cracked piece of opaque rubble carries it's own challenges, ones that I do not share, I sweat and moan in silence on this bumpy ass path, I trip and stumble, mentally scuffed and bruised as I force myself to keep going further down, I want to just stop dead in this traffic, shriveling up into a pathetic ball of tears, because I too am dealing with my own shit and it's not fucking easy, but you make me feel like it's nothing, that I couldn't possibly have problems.

I know you don't believe it, but I fully believe things are going to work out for you, right now it just feels like some asshole has set your lawn of potential on fire, I promise you it will get better, you are strong and beautiful, I know it feels like the world is against you, that no one is on your team, I am there, I'm the weirdo cheering and rooting for you from across the street, who will help you put out the fire.

With mastering the toughest task of patience, I assure you things are going to work out, that you are cable of so much more than what people assume based off of looks because they are jackasses living in the past, so please, have faith, don't lose hope in your future, and I beg of thee, stop telling me I don't understand, because I do, because I understand you.

- Autumn(Me)

#poetry #poemsbyme #original poem #poems on tumblr #poets on tumblr #creative writing

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swinging-stars-from-satellites · 3 years ago

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idk how many people would even want to see this BUT i wanna yell about Leela and Brax so here's a list of all their scenes togethr/scenes pertainng to them that i can recall (pLEASE add on if i missed anything/ you have any additional thoughts!! i could talk about these two all day!)

right off the bat in Weapon of Choice when Leela is on the outskirts of the Citadel and Brax goes to bring her back (which is interesting in and of itself, bc usually i would imagine a chancellery guard would go do that so what made Brax decide to instead??), Leela kinda goes off at him bc she's hurting and instead of trying to actually explain what's going on Brax doesn't even try to argue he just says "we need you" which is great bc Leela has that instinctive desire to be needed and to help people and he's speaking right to that -- also as far as we know, this is Leela and Brax's first actual meeting in canon? it's implied that they know of each other, which makes sense, but it doesn't seem like they've ever directly interacted before: Brax seems almost slightly uncertain, and Leela is combative, but when he's gentle with her she's actually quite receptive

the literal next scene after that, where the OT4 is all in one room for the first time (they still kinda hate each other at this point but still !!!). Narvin explaining Gryben and being a real jerk about it and Leela (understandibly!) questions if Gryben is a prison world, and Brax (who to this point has been mostly quiet as Narvin and Romana brief Leela) jumps in to both clarify Narvin's previous xenophobic statements while also maintaining the inherent questionable/negative connotations

(btw it's actually pretty important to note that Romana self-edits herself a lot when talking to Leela, especially in the earlier seasons; you can actually hear her revising the things she says to put it in terms that she thinks Leela will better understand. and i mean she does it out of genuine consideration for her friend associate but it often comes across as varying levels of patronizing. Narvin also obviously "dumbs things down" when dealing with Leela early on, but like... Brax never does that on any level. the only difference i can tell in how he addresses Leela vs how he talks to anybody else is that he seems much more kind with her than almost anyone else???)

their conversation about the Matrix in The Inquiry: this is REALLY important (and if you've ever talked to me on ao3 i've probably gone off to you about it lol) because it's layered. they're talking about the Matrix but they're also not because in answering Leela's question Brax is making a very thinly veiled allegory (which he outright states a minute later) to Time Lord society/politicians/most importantly HIMSELF -- he's actually strangely open about his morals/beliefs in this scene and i'm living for it tbh -- and i find it very interesting that even though he does directly explain what he means ("how do you know all this?" / "because i am a politician.") he also leaves it for Leela to work out the implications. like it's a very nuanced conversation bc there's double meaning in it and most people on Gallifrey seem to think that Leela is tone-deaf and can't pick up on that stuff (even Romana sometimes oversimplifies things to her) but Brax totally just lets her take from it what she will bc he believes her intelligent enough to understand. he doesn't think her any lesser because she's human.

ALSO on a secondary note to the above: the fact that Leela has a question/needed clarification (sorry, haven't listened to this in a while i forget how it actually happened) and actively sought out Brax to talk to about it?? like she knows Romana better she could have gone to her but i feel like Leela kinda imprinted on Brax and someone she can go to for help if she needs it; maybe it's partly bc she knows he's under marginally less pressure than Romana is but also the truth of the matter is that Brax was the most genuinely helpful person to her in the previous stories and that probably means a lot to her (esp. bc he acts like the essence of everything she hates about Gallifrey but he doesn't treat her the way she would expect from that). btw this topic is gonna come up again in a hot minute

that part where Brax gives her that information that might help her re: the Andred thing, even though he really probably shouldn't have done that -- it kinda makes me think about what he must have been like with Theta tbh???

actually this is mostly my own conjecture but there's some neat stuff in Spirit bc during the *waves hand vaguely* bodyswap dream sequence thing, Romana is very "!!!! Brax can help us !!!" which is tecnically Leela brain talking, so like there's the implications of the stuff i've said above about Leela having this idea of Brax where she knows he's someone she can go to for help

can u tell i'm soft for them

Leela sounding really sad/distracted when she talks about how Brax isn't there YES i'm grasping at straws but a lot of this relationship really is conveyed through the voice acting bc of how little direct focus there is on the characters. there's actually several scenes in Mindbomb where she mentions him and she outright says that she misses him during her discussion with Matthias

that implied scene with them in Mindbomb!! i have a Lot of thoughts about that!!! it's all conjecture and fanfic fodder!!! but the reason i mention this is because it seems pretty meta that out of the whole Gally Gang, it's Leela who first sees Brax when he comes back to Gallifrey and in turn she's the first person (besides Matthias, i guess) that he sees upon his return?? idk i just feel like that's somehow a meaningful detail??? also her reaction of utter shock after spending the entire episode missing him and how worked up she is when she tries to tell Romana, like I desperately need to know what happened in this missing scene MR RICHARDS PLEASE TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED

Leela insisting on going with Brax when Pandora starts hurting him and their whole conversation there is just. so good. like they're both just so soft and then when Darkel comes in Leela instantly goes into protective mode. like they just have such an open relationship bc Brax doesn't even try to be all pretentious with her, like he doesn't even try to keep up any facades when he's with her he's just very genuine and it really says a lot about both of them -- Leela is so good at seeing people, like getting down to the core of who people are and what makes them them (which is why she's good for Romana, btw, bc Romana has a lot of identity issues) and Brax is so tangled up in who he presents himself as that he barely knows who he actually is anymore but Leela can see that and she makes it so he can truly be himself and he doesn't have to hide. also she's so gentle with him when they talk about Pandora, she's very caring and empathetic and wants to make sure he's okay and i am WEAK

it's been a hot while since i listened to Panacea but I think i remember Brax being really soft with Leela when he first brings the gang to the Axis, like just sounding really glad to see her

ok other than the fact that Brax is lowkey relatable in Reborn (daydreaming fanfic about yourself/people you know? simping for Mary Tamm Romana? yeah mood, my man) there's that scene where they're first appraoching the Citadel on the alt!Gallifrey and it seems like none of them, and Brax specifically, have seen it from the outside in a good long while bc he's very in awe and he tells Leela that he wishes she could see it and he sounds sO hEcKiNg sOFT oh my word-

and once again with Leela thinking of Brax as someone she trusts for help: in Dissassembled when everything is going to crap she straight-up says that she wants to go find Brax bc he'll know what to do/be able to help

at the beginning of Annihilation when Romana is depressed and questioning if Brax truly was her friend and Leela INSTANTLY, NO HESITATION assures her that he was; i lost where i had her exact lines written down but she actually kinda goes off to make sure Romana gets the point

literally forcing myself to talk about this bc it makes my brain stall out but like,,, the Brax Hound in Annihilation,,, Leela being like "goodbye, Braxiatel... again" she sounds so sad and like UGH i always kinda forget how sad it actually is for them to lose Brax in Dissassembled bc like, it was so sudden and they didn't get to say goodbye and Leela is always losing people and i have many many feels about this scene and how all that emotion is made very clear in how they each respond to the Hound (might make a separate post abt this later if anyone is interested ::eyes::)

Enemy Lines is utter bullcrap about these two and I will never stop being salty about how they not only sidelined the very good, very subtle friendship they had in s1-4, but they??? made Leela acutally not trust Brax??? when literally this entire time she's been the one person who probably genuinely trusts him the most?? what the heck, David

I haven't heard TW3 or 4 yet but i'm assuming there's nothing worthwhile in those with regards to this duo (correct me if i'm wrong tho lol, i would love to be mistaken in this assumption)

TL;DR Leela and Brax mututally imprinted on each other and have probably the most open and healthy relationship within the OT4 and it is an absolute CRIME that nobody besides Gary Russell and Justin Richards cared enough to actually build on it in canon

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the-volume-is-astronomical · 4 years ago

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The Crown, The Sword, and The Gay

Knight's Mistake

A/N: y'all some people actually cared so i decided to share this chapter which is def shorter but hope y'all enjoy and remember to stay alert there could be clues as to what happens next anywhere (also let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist!)

First | Previous| Next

words: 1601

summary: Roman’s in the tower and he is now alone with his new knight in shinning armor pairings: eventual prinxiety, eventual intrulogical, eventual moceit

warnings: some potty language (not much), stress, anxiety, pretentious character, violence (near the end), talking down to someone, blatant sexism

(let me know if there's any other)

“Your majesty…” Trent opened the door for Roman, he didn't react at all. He kept looking out the carriage window. Ruth asked Trent to give them a minute and he nodded looking complacent but, she saw from the corner of her eye his smile drop and his eyes roll...she’d have to look into that later, for now…

”Roman, I truly do hate to bring you back to reality but-” Roman seemed to sober up at her voice “I know, I know.” They both got out of the carriage, Trent at the ready with Roman’s possessions. Ruth and Roman gave each other a goodbye. “I'll be back in the morning. I hope by that time with Remy..” Roman chuckled

“And I swear if I see you reading that damn book-” “No! I promise I'll read something else this time” Roman knew Ruth was just joking “You are such a bad liar- I thought I taught you better!” Their little moment was rudely interrupted by Trent’s over exaggerated coughing.

Roman turned around almost forgetting Trent was there. “Sorry for the interruption, Your majes-” Roman interrupts Trent “No, please, call me Roman” The knight gave a tight nod and gestured towards the tower which Roman purposely ignored. Roman gave Ruth a hug, afterwards Trent helped her to the carriage.

Roman watched his only way out leave with his nurse. Trent was getting tired of being ignored. He grabbed Roman’s arm, not forcefully, the Prince was his only way of proving to the King how much potential he had. He had heard how ingenious the heir could be, he had outwitted several knight before, it was obvious the royal hadn't done it to embarrass the knights but, the other trainees always made fun of those who were fooled by the young prince.

Trent did not intend to be one of them.

Roman quickly twisted his hand off “his” knight’s grasp, he just started walking forward without saying another word, not even looking to where he was going. From an outsider perspective it might look as if he had memorized the path to such a degree he could get to his destination with his eyes closed, they would be right.

After arriving at the top of the tower, he went towards the nearest shelf and took out the only book with any color that wasn't brown or gray, he sat by the window but instead of rereading his favorite book, Trent spoke up trying to make conversation.

“So, I heard Hugo had been your knight before I” dropping Romans possessions as he spoke. Roman looked up pretty confused, he wasn't used to talkative Knights, he usually had to fight stories out of Hugo.

“Well yes, there was a time where Hugo was planning to retire but all the knights that applied to be my babysitters, to upgrade rank of course, were very easily fooled” Trent ignored almost everything he had said just waiting out until it was his turn to talk “Yeah, yeah.. Did you know Hugo actually taught me for a while?”

Trent obviously expected curiosity, which he got. “Really? Hugo has never spoken of you, I've asked him about his life for so long, I could write a whole book about his life.” Trent looked a little annoyed at that “He did indeed teach me for a while not for long though, it was back in Meadowfort…” making an obvious pause expecting Roman to ask for more details about Hugo’s home, he was a very private person

… What he did not expect on the other hand was Roman to start monologuing about what Hugo had told him about the place.

“Oh, Meadowfort!” He jumped up starting to look through a trunk, until he pulled out a drawing “Gosh, I remember Hugo telling me so much about his home” Trent didn't really know what to say, he looked at the drawing that Roman had laid on the desk, and it was Meadowfort.

He only had a foggy memory of what the place looked like, last time he had been there he was a child. “Hugo went back a few years ago, he got an artist to make me this painting of his hometown. I had completely forgotten about it till you mentioned it!” Roman rambled admiring the drawing.

Trent, still trying to impress Roman, spoke up. “Yes! That's um... his street, his house was…” he trailed off looking around the drawing, actively trying to remember which was Hugo’s house, before his memory could be refreshed the Royal next to him beat him to it, “...I believe it was this one, Hugo always told me what a perfect view he got from his bedroom window.” He was very hesitant as he felt he was interrupting his new knight too much.

Trent agreed with that sentiment. He was incredibly annoyed with the prince. Trent tried to impress him by other means but, Roman proved to know a lot about Hugo’s life. So he headed towards the big shelf and picked up one of the philosophy books he recognized.

“Ah! ‘Philosophy Without A Goal’, an amazing piece of literature... though, I certainly don't agree with all it’s ideals” he again expected a reaction of awe towards his knowledge on a type of book mostly used to teach royalty but he got none of it

“Oh yeah, I think I remember a bit of that book. I wasn't really interested in the topic and my professor was very considerate, he always included some adventure or fantasy book when it was time to practice reading, after my parents found out he got fired...always felt bad about that.” Roman spoke while eyeing the red book that sat abandoned by the window.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

After several attempts of trying to impress the prince with the amount of knowledge he had but, being out done by the monarch, Trent gave up. “It’s getting late, i'm going to head to bed...where exactly am I going to sleep?” Roman stood up and quickly headed for the door “There's a room we passed while heading up-” Roman, hand on the door handle, was going to show Trent where he was going to sleep but, the knight panicked thinking this might be the prince trying to trick him.

“No!” He ran towards the door and slammed it, startling Roman “I can find it myself- thank you though, your majesty” Roman was very confused and still a little shocked at the outburst “Um...sure, if you have any questions about anything let me know, i’ve spent half my life here.” there was something bitter tracing his voice, not that Trent noticed nor cared so, he excused himself.

Trent actually found the room pretty easily, he was unsure how he had missed it before. He was unbelievably annoyed once he realized he'd have to be in the tower with the royal for an undisclosed amount of time, why couldn't the prince shut his mouth from time to time, on the other hand, he could handle it as long as he could cut a few extra steps and effort to actually get to a position of power.

Though life isn't always ideal.

(In this case, he definitely had it coming)

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Roman woke up to raised voices, in his half-asleep self he couldn't make out what they were saying but he did recognize Ruth’s voice and how much anger she laced her words with.

He stood from his bed concerned for his nurse and who might be on the other end of her venom, she only really had patience for those she cared about. He hurriedly put a robe on and headed out his room. He found Trent and Ruth arguing, his nurse was absolutely fuming, and in a lack of better words “ready to kill a bitch”.

As Roman finally realized they were arguing, he tried to listen as to what they were fighting about. “The King gave me direct orders to not let anyone who wasn't of importance in, that obviously doesn't include a random servant bringing the Prince some tea. Trent emphasized on the word King, as if to prove he was somehow above Ruth.

“Look hun, I get it you think you’re hot stuff because ‘the king chose you to babysit the prince and that's going to help your career’ or whatever, just let me in to see how my baby is doing...ok?” Ruth sounded tired but Roman could hear the murderous edge to her tone.

“Did they not teach you to not to talk that way towards a man?” Trent apparently heard the tone she was obviously trying to hide and he also didn't have a will to live, Roman was about to say something but, Trent spoke before he could.

“Just leave the food and head back, you sure as hell aren't strong enough to get by me.” Roman genuinely thought Ruth was going to go off on Trent and go on a screaming match. However, he did not expect his nurse to, in a blink of an eye, have Trent on the floor, one of her hands on his back and her other hand extending Trent’s right arm while putting a foot on his left arm, basically having this trained knight in an armlock.

Roman was confused and impressed but, mostly too tired to analyze what was happening in front of him so, when a random purple haired knight showed up holding a piece of paper and made eye contact with him, looking extremely concerned and confused, he just shrugged and yawned as if, his nurse didn’t have the his assigned knight in an armlock.

taglist:

@meowthefluffy

#roman sanders #ts roman #ts sanders sides #virgil sanders #sanders sides patton #ts virgil #prinxiety fic #prinxiety #roman angst

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consumeconstantly · 4 years ago

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If at first you don’t succeed... just live with your mistake

“My mommy’s the Style Queen.”

“Well my mommy’s an Italian Ambassador.”

Chloe scoffs. “So? My dad is the Mayor of Paris.”

AKA Chloe and Lila have a dick measuring contest.

______________________________________________________________

“This is your fault, Audrey! She acts exactly like you when you’re jet lagged and caffeine deprived. She definitely got it from you.”

“Excuse me?” Audrey delicately slams her iced mocha down on the imported Rosewood table. “She got it from me? I’m not the one whose name Chloe has dropped in every one of her little school fights.”

“I just don’t understand.” Gianna Rossi nurses her head in her hand. The whiskey that was delivered to her didn’t have the opportunity for water to condense on the sides, so the table remains free of stains. “How did Lila end up this way? I’ve always tried to lead by example, and I spend as much time with her as I can!”

Audrey pats Gianna’s forearm with a gloved hand. “Maybe it’s just teenage rebellion, darling.”

“I wish,” Gianna says, glumly. “Do you think it’s because she grew up without one of her parents?”

“Nonsense,” Andre waves his hand, still wearing the pretentious ribbon that proclaims he is the mayor of Paris. “Chloe grew up with a mother, and she turned out exactly the same way.”

He mutters more quietly, “Though a mother that was gone so often she might as well not have even been there.”

Audrey smacks Andre on the arm. “You know very well that you were gone more often when she was a baby. We agreed that we would rotate focusing on our careers every few years.”

“Yes, honey, but I’ve been on Chloe duty for the past eight years. You only took care of her when she was a toddler.”

“Who was the one who had to change diapers Andre? The one who woke up at 3 AM to feed her? The one who taught her the goddamn alphabet? Tell me that, Andre, tell me that.”

Gianna motions for another drink to be brought over by the butler that Andre and Audrey employ. Audrey holds up a hand and shakes her head. “Don’t do it, Gianna. It’s almost 4:30. School is going to get out soon.”

Pressing her head up against the lacquered wood, Gianna sighs. “All the more reason for me to drink.”

“You don’t want to be inebriated when you have to deal with Lila, do you?”

“I do,” Gianna wails. “I have to be! Do you know that Lila makes me drink more than my job does? And I’m the one who has to file all of those awful akuma attacks that always end up targeting Italian tourists because some people are still not over what we did in World War II!”

“Italy did do a lot of awful things back then,” Andre mutters.

“Shut it! Whether it’s right or wrong, one akuma attack out of every twenty five deals specifically with the prejudice against Italy. Italian tourists get caught up in seven attacks out ten. I’ve had to issue so many incident reports that I think I’m going to get carpal tunnel soon.”

“I can’t believe you have the statistics on those.”

Gianna’s voice shoots up two octaves. “You’re the mayor of Paris. Shouldn’t you be keeping track of statistics like these?”

“Ah,” Andre laughs awkwardly. “Of course I am. But back on topic. Who do you think it’s going to be this time? Chloe or Lila?”

A moment of silence. Then, in tandem, all three of their phones buzz.

“You just had to jinx it, didn’t you, Andre?” Audrey pulls out a pocket mirror, reapplies her lipstick, then stands. “Let’s go see what our girls did this time, non?”

Placing her sunglasses over her eyes, Audrey continues, “A hundred euros that the Dupain-Cheng girl will be one of their targets.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, honey. That girl has too much of a spine for either of them to get her involved.”

Gianna sobs for the umpteenth time that afternoon. “If Lila was just a little bit more like Marinette, so many of my problems would be relieved! Do you think if I pay her enough, she’ll be friends with my daughter?”

Audrey and Andre exchange glasses. Andre shakes his head. “Friendship won’t work. We tried to get our Chloe to play with Adrien. He’s still as well-mannered as ever, but Chloe… In any case, I’ll raise your hundred euro bet to one fifty and say that Sabrina will be involved.”

“That’s no fun,” Audrey complains. “You always take the obvious bets.”

The three parents make their way to Andre’s limo. Gianna may or may not take two shots of vodka on her way there.

“Chloekins!” Andre stretches his arms out to his daughter. His bad knee pops twice as he gets down to kneel.

“I don’t know why he insists on playing good cop bad cop when it hasn’t worked once in the past five years,” Audrey says to Gianna.

“At least you have a significant other to make that work. I have to be the good cop and the bad cop, all in one person, and it hasn’t worked ever. Maybe I should try looking for other single parents. Adrien’s father is single, right? And Adrien is such a sweetheart. Maybe I should try--”

Audrey waves her clutch slightly in the air to cut her off. “Trust me when I say that is an awful idea. Not only does the man still believe Emilie is alive, but he also keeps an obscene amount of iconography of her in his bedroom in his manor. And even if he somehow gets over Emilie, wish isn’t going to happen anytime soon, that snake, Nathalie, has been waiting in the wings even before Adrien was born.”

Gianna’s shoulders slump. “I thought ‘the good ones are all taken’ is only a phrase that’s supposed to be used by students.”

“Daddy!” Chloe stomped her foot. “I demand that you deport this-- this miscreant from Paris at once!”

“Daddy’s so proud of you for learning a new big word.” Andre continues to fawn over his daughter while Chloe and Lila’s classmates look on disgustedly at the dual display of affection and undermining Chloe’s intelligence. Nino lets out something that sounds suspiciously like, “Sick burn, dude.”

“Daddy!” Chloe’s voice gets even higher, and Audrey counts at least five of Chloe’s classmates cover their ears and wince. Andre glances back at Audrey, clearly expecting her to come in and lay down the law. Audrey doesn’t even bother raising an eyebrow in disbelief, She just stays completely still until her husband gets the point and turns back to their daughter, shoulders slumped.

“Sweetheart, we can’t just deport Lila for no reason,” Andre tries to placate Chloe, unsuccessfully. Somehow, the classmates and the teacher have gotten a hold of popcorn, and are now sharing it amongst themselves.

“I told you. It’s not for no reason. It’s because she’s a miscreant!”

Andre falters. He’s always given into Chloe’s demands, and Audrey has always been the one to fix things after. He gives in. “Okay, sweetheart. Then we can--”

“Hold on.” Gianna steps in between Andre and Chloe. Audrey smells alcohol coming from her mouth. Gianna’s cheeks are slightly pink. Audrey, herself, doesn’t believe in midday drinking, or really, drinking at all-- she thinks that it ruins skin and that inebriated people simply aren’t attractive-- but perhaps if Audrey wasn’t so involved in the fashion world, she’d be a little more similar to Mme. Rossi. “How about we hear both sides of the story before deciding what needs to be done?”

Lila and Chloe lock eyes, then immediately turn away with each other, crossing their arms at the exact same time. If Audrey didn’t remember every detail of Chloe’s birth because it was so painful, she’d be inclined to believe that the two girls were twins, or siblings at the very least. They’re just too similar in their mannerisms to believe that they’re completely unrelated.

Fluttering her eyelashes and playing up the image of a false saint that precisely nobody in the school believes anymore, Lila, looks at Andre and Gianna through watery eyes. “Chloe was bullying people! I simply had to intervene.”

“That’s not true! She was the one who started it!”

Gianna sighs. If she were any less of a woman, she would immediately buckle to the ground. But she’s been dealing with the Italian-Parisian politics, which are often fraught with tension, for nearly three decades, and with one Lila Rossi for thirteen years. “Why don’t we hear from an impartial third party?”

The three parents turn on the rest of the classroom. Sometime during the chaos, Caline Bustier fainted, and was promptly escorted to the nurse’s office by Mylene and Ivan. No matter. Caline isn’t the most… impartial or intelligent person they have to choose from. Audrey does feel slightly responsible for her lack of intelligence, as Chloe beaned Caline in the head with objects of various size and weight throughout Ecole, which is why the woman isn’t out of a job.

“Marinette and Adrien. Why don’t the two of you tell us what happened?” Audrey points at the two teens that are whispering to each other. They certainly have an interesting dynamic. If Marinette was taller, she’d love to have the two of them model for some of her shoots, together. No matter. She still has time to grow, and she has it on good word that Sabine is doing all she can to make sure her daughter grows to at least Tom’s height.

Chloe gasps. “You remember Maritrash’s name, but not mine?”

Beneath her sunglasses, Audrey rolls her eyes. Really, she makes one attempt at the younger generation’s humor, and it backfires on her horribly. She fired the intern who recommended that joke to her, so there’s really nothing more to be done. This is why it’s just so much easier to be harsh.

Luckily, Adrien deescalates the situation before Chloe starts on a second tangent that will likely end in tears instead of a fit of rage. Audrey wonders if she’s really that emotional when she’s jetlagged and in need of a pick-me-up. She’ll have to ask her assistant, next time.

“Well, it really started as two seprate issues at first.” Adrien rubs the back of his head and looks down at his feet. Maybe there’s a tradeoff. Indiscriminate rage in exchange for common sense. Confidence exchanged for timidity. “Chloe was… upset because she didn’t get a perfect on the last assignment Sabrina submitted for her.”

Audrey rolls her eyes again. What, there’s a reason she wears sunglasses everywhere she goes. She simply can’t deal with people’s stupidity, or when people make clearly exaggerated-- or in this case, very, very, almost criminally under exaggerated, judging by the bruises forming on Sabrina’s knees-- claims.

“And Lila was spinning another lie about Jagged Stone to Nino. Something about her being his lovechild,” Marinette finished. Now there’s a girl who has confidence, is more than confident at her craft, and is pretty. Really, the only negative things that she’s heard about the girl is that she’s sort of a clutz and rather bad at getting places on time, but both of those can be remedied. Etiquette class and a personal driver, and everything will be fixed.

There’s also the small matter about her apparently having the capability of picking locks and hyper fixating on whatever she likes, but Audrey has been trapped by men trying to get a ransom from Andre at least four separate times, and she wouldn’t be here today if she wasn’t a bit of a daredevil of lycee. As for the hyperfixation, so long as she’s able to move onto a new area of interest in time for each new collection, Audrey sees no reason why Marinette can’t excel in the fashion world.

“Lila Rossi! You know you are not the daughter of Jagged Stone! You’re going to be grounded for two weeks!”

Marinette nudges Adrien. “Excuse me, Mme. Rossi. Why don’t we finish the whole story before issuing any punishments? There’s… more.”

Adrien is associated with that good boy next door kind of aesthetic, but he pulls off unintentionally mildly ominous like he was born to do so.

“The short of it is that Chloe pushed Sabrina, Sabrina fell onto Lila, and that made Lila and Nino kiss. After that,” Marinette eyes Nino, who is wiping his mouth with his eighth wet wipe and being soothed by Alya with an arm on his shoulder. “Well, things kind of devolved from there.”

“You mean,” Chloe hisses. “That this wannabe pulled my hair, scratched my face, and knocked me to the ground!”

“You made me bleed!” Lila pulls her sleeve up. There aren’t actually any marks, but there aren’t any marks on Chloe, either.

“They did roll around on the floor for a while,” Alya admits, “But both of them were so up in each other’s business that it's difficult to make out who actually landed a hit on who, if either of them did manage to hurt each other. I have the footage, but even after we watched it a few times, it really just looks like the two of them are bear hugging each other on the floor.”

“Are you guys forgetting the real victims here?” Kim half shouts. “My beautiful face!”

Alix slaps him on the back. “Don’t worry about it. If it scars, it’ll just make you look mysterious. If it doesn’t… well I can’t say that your looks were ever good to begin with.”

Sabrina shuffles her feet. She’s definitely less injured than Kim’s nail scratches, with only bruising on one arm and on both of her knees.

“Chloe didn’t do anything bad,” she defends. “She’s perfect just the way she is!”

“That’s right, servant.”

Marinette turns to Adrien with a question in her eyes. He nods.

She bangs her head against his shoulder.

“Sorry about that, Chloe’s voice just really grates on me sometimes. I need to knock my head in order to get the ringing to stop.”

Lila shoots a smug look at the blonde girl. “See?”

“Lila’s too,” Marinette says, then bangs her head against Adrien’s shoulder one more time for good measure. “Adrien, Alya, do either of you want to continue?”

Adrien pulls Marinette into his chest. Alya steps forwards as the Champion of the Truth. “After their catfight, Kim and Sabrina broke them up. Sabrina took Chloe, Kim took Lila. After the two of them were separated, Mlle. Bustier went to M. Damocle’s office so all three of you were contacted. Chloe tried to go at Lila again once Sabrina loosened her hold, but Marinette geupplexed her.”

“Seriously,” Marinette stares at Chloe’s completely unruffled appearance. “What kind of hairspray does Chloe even use? Her hair is made of steel.”

“Her hairspray is made from venom and spite, dude.”

The tell tale sirens of a police car approach. “Oh, by the way, did M. Damocles not tell you that the police were going to take both of them in for questioning?”

“No,” Gianna Rossi says, curling in on herself. “No, he most definitely did not.”

Chloe and Lila are led away in handcuffs while the parents stand in a group, almost numbly.

“Why are our children like this?” Gianna pulls her hair. She’s had to take off so much time from her job this month alone in order to accommodate Lila’s ridiculous behaviors.

“Be comforted by the fact that they’re not working together. Can you imagine the kind of plans they’d think up?”

“Actually,” Alya interjects. “They have. Were you never contacted for the time they sent Marinette flying out the window?”

“WHAT?”

#original content #miraculous ladybug #chloe bourgeois #lila rossi #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #nino lahiffe #alya cesaire #audrey bourgeois #andre bourgeois #gianna rossi #crack #comedy #everybody is done #lila salt #chloe salt

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toonbly · 3 years ago

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4 and 6 for bideo games

6: A game that’s changed you the most?

OH MAN THERE’S A FEW.

honestly id have to name two: Pokemon Mystery Dungeon Explorers of Darkness and Pokemon Ranger Shadows of Almnia.

LIKE OKAY.

Mystery Dungeon was my first exposure to large narratives in video games. With all the emotional punches and plot twists and turns all over this thing with some of the BEST foreshadowing and character writing I’ve ever seen in a spin off Pokemon game, this is one of the things in my early childhood that got me really into storytelling. i remember specifically like, my first time doing written out prose was trying to make a novelization of mystery dungeon! i started making stories abt explorer teams with my toys and cards n stuff bc i was like 10 yknow what i mean HFKJDHFKSD

but then i also played Rangers: Shadow Of Almnia. this game was the reason i made my first ever comic! it was basically a comic version of the game but with my ranger OC Lola! she was also secretly a fairy whos parents were vaporeons but she WASN’T a pokemon ok she was a fairy and she has a deep seeded rivalry with darkrai who tries to kill her at some point but its fine.

yeah i was like 8 what do you want from me HJFJDSHFKDS

BUT LIKE LEGIT. THAT WAS MY FIRST EVER COMIC. I WOULD NOT BE MAKING FERRYMEN NOW IF IT WERENT FOR MY WEIRD MARY SUE RANGER FANFICTION I MADE WHENEVER I WAS IN LIKE? 2ND OR 3RD GRADE FHDJFHKSDJF

theyre the games that got me into stories!! and i wouldnt be where i am or who i am today without storytelling

4: Worst game you’ve ever played?

oh baby you already know its YIIK

I’M PUTTING THIS BIT UNDER A READ MORE BECAUSE GOOD LORD DO I HAVE A LOT TO SAY HERE FSJDKHFKJDSF

i bought the game to “give it a chance” sometime last year i think? bc like listen. listen. i only vaguely knew about the problems with it, i knew it had supposedly bad writing and the dialogue could be a little awkward. that was it. i took a look at it and tbh i liked the visual style! like

i genuinely like the art style for the talk sprites! and i get the vibe theyre going with the low poly models and the very bright colors, its supposed to be very 90s-esque!

it does kinda feel like its missing that little Spark that really ties it all together? its missing a little pizzazz to make it really stand out and REALLY get the vibe its going for, it misses the uniqueness mark but! it does its job okay enough for me to get what its going for!

plus honestly i found the intro sequence with the crow asking you questions really charming! in full context of the actual shitshow i was about to get into it was a little tryhard-y, but i liked it when i first saw it!

so i figured hey, what the heck, i’ll give this thing a try. the intros cute and i like the art style, maybe people are giving it too much flack.

and then. and then alex picks up that first phone call.

AND IT GOES. SO DOWNHILL. FUCKING IMMEDIATELY

LIKE OKAY. THE GAMEPLAY IS SO BAD AND REPETIVE AND GENUINELY BROKEN. im no game design expert so i cant really explain why, but combat in yiik DRAGS ON so much that its GENUINELY fucking draining. no joke while trying to complete this game i had to put it down multiple times bc it made me dissasociate. i WISH i was joking. i WISH that was exaggeration. it isnt. it is far fucking from it.

AND LOOK USUALLY. USUALLY. I CAN PUT UP WITH MEDIOCRE OR EVEN TERRIBLE GAMEPLAY IF THE STORY IS GOOD.

BUT THE STORY ISN’T FUCKING GOOD. ITS AWFUL.

it’s somehow both over explained and absolutely fucking nonsensical, characters will repeat themselves THOUSANDS OF TIMES in these long, repetive exposistion dumps that explain every single detail while making sure you understand NONE of it. the characters are unlikable (ESPECIALLY alex, the main character), it’s tone death and insensitive, and it’s just so. fucking. pretentious.

there are other issues in the game like racism, sexism, insensitity towards very serious topics (like using the real life death of Elisa Lam for shock value. no thats not a joke. the devs themselves have admitted this was intentional.)

not to mention all the shit the devs have done which we dont have TIME to get into-- LONG STORY SHORT YIIK IS A MASSIVE FUCKING SHITSHOW OF A GAME AND DON’T WASTE YOUR MONEY ON IT LIKE I DID. i WISH steam would let me refund it. my brains gonna explode.

i think the devs owe me compensation for damages. just damages in general. /j

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irkimatsu · 4 years ago

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Okay, after way too much delay - it's my Eurovision 2021 Final Ranking! This took me a while for a lot of factors - took extra hours at work to make sure I could get time off this week, some recent family events... and most relevantly, the fact that this year is so damn good that no matter what, I knew someone was going to get ripped off by ending up somewhere in the bottom half. Just know that being toward the bottom of the list doesn't necessarily mean I dislike it, especially this year - it just means I like other things more. This year is going to be an absolute bloodbath. I am both excited and terrified.

Try not to take my ranking too seriously, by the way - I'm an American who unironically listens to stuff like Scooch and Dolly Style. I'm not exactly a seasoned music critic. I just know what sort of music makes the happiness center of my brain light up, what the hell is music theory

Ranking made with the sorter at http://esc.gerbear.com/sorter2021.htm, then slightly adjusted when it put some songs concerningly low on the list. Okay, so I cheated a little

Firstly, in the interest in completion - if Belarus didn't get disqualified, they'd be in the big fat 40 rank, with a big bold "Hate" right above. Fuck that song. I've only listened to it once and am so glad I have no obligation to acknowledge it any further. Those fucking lyrics. Mother of Christ. Fuck you guys.

I also offer my condolences to Armenia for their having to bow out this year. I'm sure whatever you guys sent, it couldn't have possibly been worse than "Chains On You".

Now, for the songs that actually matter:

Indifferent:

39 – Spain - “Voy a quedarme” by Blas Cantó: Welp, already I’m gonna get shot. I can’t remember how this song sounds at all. I know it’s tender and genuine and sweet and everything… I just… kinda don’t care. Nothing to say. I liked his entry last year even more, and even that was pretty damn dull. Just not destined to be a Blas Cantó fan, I guess!

38 - North Macedonia – “Here I Stand” by Vasil: I’m with most other rankings I’ve seen; what the hell is this? I at least kinda remember it, which is more than I can say for poor Spain, but oh my god it’s so boring. I really liked “You” last year! What the hell happened, Vasil?

37 – Albania - “Karma” by Anxhela Peristeri: Another “oops” from me, huh. It’s another one I immediately forget about the instant it ends. I at least don’t remember it boring the crap out of me, hence it placing higher than Spain and Macedonia, but I still can’t say anything nice about it – or anything at all, really – so I’ll leave it this low. I acknowledge that I’m in the minority, I won’t protest if it qualifies, but personally, it’s not my pick.

36 – Georgia – “You” by Tornike Kipiani: Give him points for passion, I suppose! At least I’m not laughing at him like I was last year. On the other hand, less ridiculous also means more boring. Points for earnestness, but this is just another song that goes right over my head.

35 – Portugal – “Love Is On My Side” by The Black Mamba: An English song from Portugal? That’s new. Too bad it hasn’t rescued the song from the darkest depths of Boring. I will confess that I spice it up a little by associating it with Homura from Osomatsu-san, thus rescuing it from the deepest pits of my ranking list… but it’s still stuck down here. Portugal and I have never gotten along well Eurovision-wise. I’ve come to accept that.

34 – Slovenia – “Amen” by Ana Soklič: I’m gonna call this a song that I respect more than I like. She’s got a great voice, I can’t deny that… but when I’m ranking this purely based on what I’d go out of my way to listen to, this one falls flat. I warned you at the beginning that I have no taste! I’m not normally into straightforward ballads, the religious connotations are lost on me… this isn’t the song for me.

33 – Austria – “Amen” by Vincent Bueno: Back to back “Amen”s! Tip for getting me to like your Eurovision entry, apparently, is “don’t call your song Amen”. It’s a ballad, earnest and trying but overall not my type of music. I’m running out of ways to say that. Breakup song, a tad bitter, we’ve all heard this sort of song so many times before. It doesn’t stand out, and I think it’d be a waste of a spot in the final.

At least, I thought this was a breakup song when I first wrote this, but apparently it’s about the death of a loved one…? I would say that makes me hate the bitterness, but… given how I’m handling a death in my own family right now… god, I don’t know. I just can’t handle this song, not at any time but especially not now. It doesn’t even provide catharsis like a song later on in the list. It stays this low regardless of its meaning, I just don’t like it, I’m sorry, moving on.

…” 'Cause it all feels like you didn't even try to save us, all this time wasted on a lie”… ugh, my personal problems…

32 – Switzerland – “Tout l'Univers” by Gjon’s Tears: Another one I respect more than I like, and another opinion I’m gonna get my ass beaten for, I’m sure. I respect the artistry, but this is so far removed from anything I’d ever listen to on purpose. It might have landed even lower if I wasn’t afraid of pissing people off. I’ll understand if it wins, but I’ll also be hoping for most anything else.

31 – Russia – “Russian Woman” by Manizha: I don’t get it. Sometimes it’s pleasant enough to listen to, but overall I don’t get it. It’s unique, I’ll give it that! I understand why it won its national final, and why so many people enjoy it! But for me, it doesn’t quite cross that line between “interesting” and “enjoyable”. I'm not Russian - this isn't for me, and it wasn't supposed to be. Though I will confess that there may be some bias at play here. God, I miss Little Big…

Okay:

30 – Estonia – “The Lucky One” by Uku Suviste: The voice is okay, the music is okay, I like how the bitterness is handled here more than in Austria’s… but this is still as high as I can go on this one. It’s serviceable, but this year has so much better to offer.

29 – Sweden – “Voices” by Tusse: Sweden really does like sending the same song over and over again, huh? I don’t hate it, but it does strike me as a lesser “Too Late For Love”, sound wise. Sweden almost never takes risks, and it’s causing me to look over them more and more with every year. I respect it too much to put it in the “Indifferent” category, but given how the rest of my ranking played out, this the best I can do for it. (But again, do not trust the opinions of someone who teethed on cheesy Europop and fondly remembers when Sweden was flooded with the stuff…)

28 – Belgium – “The Wrong Place” by Hooverphonic: Once again, Hooverphonic help Belgium fill the role of Eurovision’s “Most Likely To Appear In A Bond Movie” song. It’s fine. It’s a song! I don’t know what else to say about it! It does its job well enough, it’s just not really a job I care for that much.

27 – Ireland – “Maps” by Lesley Roy: It’s cute enough! A cute little radio tune. It’s no “Story Of My Life”, though. If “22” couldn’t qualify then this probably won’t, either, and I can’t say I’ll miss it all that much. Still pleasant enough when it comes up on the shuffle.

26 – Bulgaria – “Growing Up Is Getting Old” by Victoria: I admit it, this ranks as high as it does because of anime and that’s basically it. If I was still doing plain category sortings this would have landed straight in “Biased”. My favorite anime is about a bunch of 20-somethings learning that growing up sucks and trying as hard as possible to avoid it, and I first heard this song around the same time that I watched that show’s relatively melancholy season finale, so it ended up sticking with me on that note. Don’t have much to say about it musically, just that it makes me picture sextuplets crying and that’s one of my hobbies, so I’ll grant it an “Okay”. (It may also worth noting that if I heard this song before 2019, in the state my life was in before then it would have probably left me too inconsolable to listen to it more than once. Growing up is growing old indeed!

…it’s also worth noting that after I wrote this blurb, a major event happened that really enforced that growing up is getting old, so I listened to this quite a bit for a few days, among some other non-Eurovision songs. I’m probably gonna have an emotional breakdown on Thursday when this one starts. So, um, look out for that, guess. Between this one and Austria’s, I swear to god…)

25 – Italy – “Zitti e buoni” by Måneskin: I’ve been trying to get this one to rank higher, I really have, but its inability to crack the top 20 just says a lot about how damn good this year is. It sounds great, it’s very well done, and I wouldn’t hate to see it win! It’s earned its popularity. Everything holding it back in my own personal ranking is just that, personal – I do lose something when I can’t sing along or understand the lyrics, and there’s another rock song this year that I like way better. Still wishing you guys the best!

24 – Netherlands – “Birth Of A New Age” by Jeangu Macrooy: This song has a great style that I respect a lot. The message, the vibe – even if it’s not a culture I’m a part of, I feel and appreciate the hell out of it, and I really hope it does well. I don’t understand why so many people seem to think it’s not interesting! It may not be the sort of thing I’d go out of my way to listen to, but I’m glad it’s here. Catch me singing out “Yu no man broko mi” on Saturday! It’s been a while since I’ve given a shit about a host country’s entry, so I’m really glad for this one.

23 – Romania - “Amnesia” by Roxen: I’ll admit something else unpopular – I hated “Alcohol You” last year. Didn’t see what the big deal was at all. It sounded okay, I guess, but the lyrics were so pretentious and awful, and I’ve never liked the topic of “I love you even though you have no redeeming qualities whatsoever and you make me feel like shit”. But it seems like in that year, Roxen has discovered that self-love is important, actually, and it’s not worth it spending your time on some shitbag who consistently disappoints you. I appreciate it for that alone. Character growth! Plus, I feel the whole thing of “forgetting how to love yourself because everyone around you sucks”. It’s not the perfect song, not by a long shot, but it has a nice melody, and Roxen has a nice voice. It’s good to hear her using that voice on something I don’t find obnoxious.

22 – Norway – “Fallen Angel” by TIX: Okay, I’ll admit it, this is one where I watched the live video the first time I heard the song, and I was too busy laughing at his outfit to take the song seriously. Jesus Christ, dude, what the hell. Well, that’s Eurovision for you, and the more I listened to it, the more I admitted to myself that I’m a sucker for “I love you but letting you go for your own good, not sure what I ever offered you in the first place” type songs. Knowing the song is inspired by his own disability and self-loathing really twists that knife, to the point where I feel bad that I almost threw this at an anime character. I know I’m usually cold on songs that try to evoke emotions about the singer’s personal problems – Germany 2018, and this year’s Austrian entry – but this one really works for me. Only reason it’s in “Okay” tier is because of its competition – it’d rank way higher in a weaker year.

21 – France – “Voila” by Barbara Pravi: I like a good waltz, I guess! It’s a unique number, and the French language sounds nice, especially with the music. It’s yet another example of how this year is filled with so many interesting entries that I appreciate the hell out of. God bless this diverse year! (Or maybe everything just sounds so good to me because last year’s cancellation left me in withdrawal.) I expect a really nice performance for this one – this song isn’t one you can perform while just standing there, especially not during that speedup toward the end.

20 – Australia – “Technicolour” by Montaigne: That song that sounds like it’s about stripping if you don’t know that she’s saying cloaks. (Guilty as charged.) It’s catchy and fun, and I really love it when it first starts… but unfortunately, it does wear out its welcome toward the end of things. It’s a good party song, just a little repetitive. I still like it just fine, and wouldn’t mind seeing her in the final this year! Hope the performance is colorful and sparkly, it’d suit the song well

Like:

19 – Germany – “I Don’t Feel Hate” by Jendrik: I know stereotyping is bad but I was not remotely surprised to find out that Jendrik is gay. This song is pure gay sass, and god, I love every minute of it. I fully expect it to fall on its ass – this wouldn’t make it to the final if it wasn’t an automatic qualifier – but I’ll have a grand old time watching it! The sarcastic lyrics, the cheerful little ukulele, the middle finger costume… this song is a delight. Only thing that I think really brings it down is that weird spoken bit that interrupts the song. That’s so annoying, brings me right out of it. And I did purposely rank it below songs that aren’t complete shitposts. But thank you for your existence, Jendrik, your contribution to Eurovision is much appreciated.

18 – Israel – “Set Me Free” by Eden Alene: I said it this year and I’ll say it again this year, Eden Alene is a goddess of a woman. Absolutely gorgeous. Appreciation for pretty women aside, it’s a fun party song in a sea of fun party songs! I really do like it, I like her voice, but there’s so much else this year that drowns it out – not much stands out here compared to later entries on the list. Still a good song, though.

…and I do not expect for an instant that this is going to make it to the final. …my personal ranking is based on how the song sounds, okay? Just the song. Just the song. Nothing else. Just the song. Anyway…

17 – United Kingdom – “Embers” by James Newman: What’s this? A UK entry I don’t find bland as off-white paint? That doesn’t happen often! I didn’t like his entry last year, romantic ballad bla bla bla whee, but I’m always down for a good party song. It’s a little generic and radio friendly, sure, but that doesn’t mean it’s not fun as hell to sing along with!

16 – Greece – “Last Dance” by Stefania: I really liked last year’s “Supergirl”, but figured it didn’t have too much of a chance because it struck me as being a little too teen poppy to be taken entirely seriously. It seems like Greece thought so, too, because they’ve ramped it up with this year’s entry. They’re not playing around anymore, sending a grand, powerful song that, like “Embers”, is fun as hell to belt. This is another one I’m really looking forward to the live performance for – the music video is gorgeous, and I hope they capture that same majesty on stage!

15 – Moldova – “Sugar” by Natalia Gordienko: Oh, Moldova, I’m so glad you guys decided to be completely batshit again this year. I’ve missed your nonsense so much. Dancing ice cream cones. Cake men. This video is glorious. And the song goes well with the insanity! A catchy dance tune that can only be improved with downright insane staging. Please let the dancing ice cream cones be on stage, I’m begging you

14 – Latvia – “The Moon Is Rising” by Samanta Tina: A unique electronica number backed with a powerful as hell voice. I can see where all the wubbing would get on people’s nerves, but personally, I love it! I love the voice, I love the attitude, Samanta just oozes confidence, and if she doesn’t make it to the final it’s not gonna be because she didn’t give it her goddamn all.

13 – Poland – “The Ride” by RAFAL: Why is this one so unpopular? You people don’t know how to have fun. Yeah, yeah, last year’s “Empires” was a powerful song… but I like my club nonsense much more, so I’m favoring this one. Yet another song that gets me pumped – this whole Contest is gonna leave me with a smile on my face, there’s so much good party music

12 – Azerbaijan – “Mata Hari” by Efendi: Yeah, they’re basically just sending “Cleopatra” again, but “Cleopatra” was so goddamn good that I can’t even blame them for it. This song needed a chance to compete, and I’m glad it’s getting it again this year. I like it so much that I can even forgive the line about being a “godless”. Oh, Europop, don’t you ever change.

11 – Cyprus – “El Diablo” by Elena Tsagrinou: Huh, I didn’t know Cyprus had perfected their Lady Gaga cloning technology. Neat. More seriously, the early 2010’s club vibe of this song is exactly my jam, enough that I can forgive the “I’m in love with a horrible person” theme. (I think I forgive that theme a lot more from catchy party songs than heartfelt ballads I’m actually supposed to feel for.) Hell, I even like the creepy chanting! Sure, it’s a little cheesy, but cheese is always a good ingredient when used in moderation.

(How many songs are we going to get this year, not just in Eurovision, about wanting to fuck devils? I mean, not that I don’t get it… mmm, Akuma Ichimatsu… um. Anyway.)

10 – Czech Republic – “Omaga” by Benny Cristo: And here we enter the top ten of a strong year, where I’d love to see any of them win! Benny, what is with that title. Why. Ah well, like I said earlier, I do like moderate amounts of cheese, and this song is more than fun enough to have earned itself a ridiculous lyric or two. It’s unique, I’ll give it that! The song is just so bouncy and fun that I manage to ignore how pushy the singer is. Another one I expect big things from the staging for.

9 – Lithuania – “Discoteque” by The Roop: Ignoring the current events that surely inspired the song, I do love the more generic “party song for introverts” read on it – if only you knew how many one-person dance parties I’d had in my own house. This song speaks to me deeply. I can’t even begin to call it a joke song; I think it’s doing exactly what it set out to do, and it’s doing it oh so well. God, those synths. Totally okay with dancing alone!

8 – Iceland – “10 Years” by Daði og Gagnamagnið: I want Daði Freyr to adopt me. I don’t even care that he’s younger than me. He’s just such an earnest, fun guy, and I love his 8-bit aesthetic! And come on, he submitted a song about how much he loves his wife! If I ever stop loving this song it’s because my heart shriveled and died. Love isn’t dead, it’s just in chiptune now. I will throw things if this doesn’t make it into the final, do you all have no souls, this is too damn cute

7 – Serbia – “Loco Loco” by Hurricane: Another group I am so excited to see return, because I adored “Hasta La Vista”. I don’t know if I like this one quite as much, but it’s still catchy as hell! I love trying to sing along with it despite not knowing a word of Serbian.

6 – Croatia – “Tick-Tock” by Albina: Another catchy-ass club song! What more can I say? I love how much of this stuff we got this year. I will absolutely be screaming “Don’t go, don’t go, don’t go!” Oh god that was cheesy… I’ve been working on this ranking for too long. Don’t know what else to say about this one, just that I adore it. Just barely missed the top 5.

Love:

5 – Malta – “Je Me Casse” by Destiny: This girl’s got pipes– not surprised to hear she won the Junior contest before! I get major “Toy” vibes from this song, and you all know just how much I adored that one. Aaa, those horns! Expecting big things from you, Destiny! We may have our winner!

4 – San Marino – “Adrenalina” by Senhit – As much of a soft spot I had for last year’s “Freaky”, I don’t think it was gonna make it into the final, unless Senhit had the blessing of the same angels who were looking out for Serhat in 2019. This one, though? San Marino tasted the final two years ago and they are never giving it up again! This song goes hard! Love the song, love the video’s aesthetic, I even kinda like Flo Rida’s rap, even though I’m still baffled by the idea that I have been regularly listening to a song featuring Flo Rida on purpose. I don’t know what he’s doing here but I’m glad he is. Please, please make it to the final, San Marino! You clearly want the hell out of it this year! Favorite club song in a year of amazing club songs.

3 – Finland – “Dark Side” by Blind Channel: After spending about five seconds disappointed that Finland wouldn’t be sending Pandora this year, I gave this song a shot, and was not expecting what it gave me. I feel like an angsty middle schooler again, and it is bliss. This is everything Hatari wanted to be, but unlike Hatari who just confused me, I absolutely love the hell out of this song. …some of those lyrics, though. “27 Club, headshot, we don’t wanna grow up”? Yikes. But as dark and questionable as it might be, I can’t help but get pumped when I hear it. Definitely my favorite rock song of the year – sorry, Italy!

2 – Denmark – “Øve os på hinanden” by Fyr & Flamme: I love you, 1983. I don’t care how dated it is when my entire soul consists of a disco ball. The song’s so damn cute! This is the one member of my top 5 that I’m most terrified of losing – I know it’s not popular, with everyone calling it dated, but my top 5 always has that dated song that I love the hell out of becauseit sounds so classic. The translated lyrics are adorable, too. Even if you guys flame out in the semi, you’ll live on in the disco in my heart.

Favorite:

1 – Ukraine – “Shum” by Go_A: Holy fucking shit. There’s something about the blending of traditional and electronic that gets me hyped – see KEiiNO – and this one does not disappoint. The last minute of this is the best minute of Eurovision this year, and god, the buildup! I don’t even know Ukrainian but I am trying my damnedest to get the lyrics down, phonetically, at least. You know that “dancing goths” meme video? That’s me whenever this song comes on, especially during that speed up. Love the hell out of it. Could Ukraine be on its way to another victory already? I sure hope so, because this song fucking rules. Definitely checking out the rest of the discography someday, if all of their songs are in this folktronica style then they’ve gotta be a treat to listen to. Go Ukraine!

Ideal Qualifiers (favorite of each semi in bold):

Semi 1

Australia

Azerbaijan

Croatia

Cyprus

Israel

Lithuania

Malta

Norway

Romania

Ukraine Semi 2:

Czech Republic

Denmark

Finland

Greece

Iceland

Latvia

Moldova

Poland

San Marino

Serbia

This is definitely not what's going to happen - there is no universe where Switzerland and Sweden don't make it - but it'll be interesting to compare the reality to my hopes.

Let's go, Eurovision 2021

#irk blubbers about nothing #irk talks eurovision 2021

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mrs-nate-humphrey · 4 years ago

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aight aight, real shit; let's say you got the chance to rewrite the entirety of gossip girl exactly how you want. make a brief description of what would happen in each season. (you can decide whether there's a fourth season or not)

oh i LOVE this ask, and i am so flattered to be asked this, haha. i have SO many thoughts, i’ve been thinking about this non-stop, but i’ll try to be as brief as possible. also, disclaimer, i don’t remember all the seasons equally clearly. like i barely remember s2. haha, whoops.

season 1: i love this season as is, for the most part. i think the tone of it was actually very serious and involved? like the show was actively trying not to be frivolous with heavy topics, and the way we were getting to see the characters seemed like they were trying to bring out character depth and the complexities of their lives in very deliberate ways. nate’s whole thing with his parents gets so much focus, and it’s not something the show glorifies, it’s something that is meant to make you uncomfortable and worried for him.

i would have nate be less of a dudebro, jenny & nate’s friendship being a little more solid, dan being a little more involved in jenny’s problems + helping her find her space, vanessa/nate to happen earlier - after nate breaks up w/ blair and realises she looks happier, i would have him not try and get back with her (lol, dude, the fact that she’s happy after breaking up with you means you probably shouldn’t be dating her.) more exploration of eric’s mental health. more dan and blair friendship. i would keep chair the way it is this season. i would not have a derena breakup - i’d have them take a break after the georgina reveal and get back together during the summer after talking about it and deciding to be more honest & open with each other. and, what the hell, i would have lily not blame serena (???) for being taken advantage of in the whole pete fairman situation. serena wasn’t sober, she was 16, that dude was in his 30s, georgina was taping her w/o her consent. how is any of this serena’s fault??? i hate lily’s reaction so much.

season 2: i... don’t remember enough of this season, sadly. it’s been too long since i watched it. i would majorly change jenny’s arc here, though. eleanor stealing her dress was majorly, majorly fucked up, and i think jenny should’ve done something then and there. also the whole thing with ‘lily is a mother to chuck’.... i would’ve loved it if lily had been like that to jenny. the girl needed it, and lily would’ve actually been able to help jenny establish connections in the professional world and whatnot. i think jenny should’ve transferred out of constance - not necessarily homeschooling maybe, but gone somewhere else. unlike dan, she didn’t even want to get into an ivy, she wanted to make it big as a designer. so. that.

oh nate my love. i’d get this trainwreck of a boy some therapy. while i hate that the catherine thing happened, things like that do happen all the time, and i’d be interested in sort of handling the aftermath of it in a responsible way. i would not have... a lot of serena’s arc and decisions (from what i can remember) were really random in this season. i’d have her break up with dan at some point. and vanessa would need a new subject for her short film, and she’d choose serena.

nate doesn’t really date anyone, this season. but he and jenny open up to each other abt having gay crushes on people who treat you like shit - jenny’s thing with agnes - nate rescues her when they’re taking those pictures in her flat and let’s say she doesn’t go back to agnes. instead of kissing her, nate talks to her instead, and tells her about carter, tells her about chuck. and jenny talks about her feelings for blair, her feelings for agnes. and both of them sort of go... “it sucks, but all we can do is try not to become the kind of people we hate, right?”

dan pines for nate. majorly. massively. obviously. i think the only person who really notices is blair, and this would lead to new hijinks and shenanigans. also!! i do not want chair in s2. maybe it can go there for a bit but definitely not to the extent in canon. i want blair to have the same moment of being unable to deny her cruelty / needing to be accountable that she did in that ‘age of dissonance’ play. and. this sounds fucky but i want the dan/rachel stuff to stay as it is, and later, in s4, for dan & serena to talk about rachel & ben respectively and be like ‘hey, this was a fucked up thing to happen to us, wasn’t it?’

i would also like to get to know blair’s “minions” better as people. i mean. they all seemed hella fascinating to me, and the show’s decision to make them superficial and unidimensional was very depressing.

season 3: hot garbage, throw canon away. when chuck goes away to paris or wherever, let him not come back. goodbye, dude! dan, blair & vanessa friendship at nyu is so, so important to me. also im losing my mind always at how vanessa and serena catch dan on that walk of shame and they’re both like ‘college is a time for experimentation!’ and nobody does anything even slightly bisexual (unless you count that threesome later, which, blah.) a serenessa / date dynamic in college would’ve been great. dan transferring to columbia like blair does and rooming with nate and just, the gayness of it all. dan & blair become really, really close, and d&b&v watch movies + go to art exhibits together and are all SO DAMN PRETENTIOUS. serena finds it sexy, nate finds it terrifying.

the william stuff would be interesting if he were actually held accountable. like that man has no right being a doctor, and medical malpractice needs to be brought up. and jenny’s whole arc this season makes me so sad. i think it would’ve been interesting if she’d been a ‘queen’ and ruled alongside eric, and just, the two of them forcing people to be nice, sort of like they try to do with people who are mean to nelly in s2 i think it is? but also.. jenny out of constance is very good, and i think i mentioned that earlier, haha, whoops.

season 4 : serenessa breakup, for whatever reason, probably to do with the william fuckery, because i think vanessa would react in similar ways to nate (”serena, i know he’s your dad, but we have to do the right thing” / “it still wasn’t your call to make” / “he’s a certified doctor, serena, a man like that has no right -” / “god vanessa, you really don’t get it, do you?” ). uhhh i would actually... if i had to choose i would honestly go blairnessa >>>>> dair. i love how blair & vanessa can keep each other on their toes and hold each other accountable. like? blair’s classist or racist and dan’s just like, *smiles*. vanessa would actively be like ‘hey, stop that.’ (this is one of the few actual criticisms i have about d/b as a relationship, RIP.)

(edited to add: yeah, i think blairnessa WOULD be a sustainable relationship, more abt that here! )

yes to the milo arc, but dan gets to keep milo (his friends threaten georgina and go all ‘you made him sign the certificate. don’t make us take you to court’ because i love these morally grey assholes but also because g DID trick dan into thinking milo was his and dan was ready to reshape his whole life around that kid which is more than georgina was willing to do. plus endgame: jack/georgina are not parents i want milo to have.) i would also have more of a rufus & dan fallout over the milo thing. i think rufus would be really nasty about it all tbh.

the dair arc for blair and vanessa! let the juliet stuff happen, but let it be less awful + let it be seen as Bad + let serena get help & not forgive her for it. let serena NOT date ben after, what the hell. i want d&s to talk about their shared feelings for high school teachers and to realise, in retrospect, as adults, that what happened was crossing lines. let blair and vanessa suddenly drop dan and do the movies + galleries stuff on their own. and dan’s like ??? but he’s busy being a parent with nate supporting him. dan’s drama is very much parenting things. there would be some nonsense involving nate’s family pushing back, because ‘we stood by while you dated him, nate, we thought it was a phase. but raising a child with another man? this is unacceptable.’ i would like nate to get disowned by the family, and need to find his own feet. and to get a REAL SHOT AT HAPPINESS away from that terrible environment.

season 5: i want this to be a good serena season. let her find her calling doing creative things. let her and carter travel the world. let her just be whoever she wants to be. let her and vanessa patch their friendship up. let her have an open relationship with carter, let her have a lot of sex with a lot of random people and not feel guilty about it. let her really really blossom. i want more eric! maybe he’s in london with jenny, and she’s working on her fashion stuff, and he’s realising that he really wants to be a counsellor.

some time-skips, maybe. i really want to see dan’s whole thing of being a parent. sending milo to kindergarten and spending the whole time milo’s gone on edge and anxious about everything that could go wrong, while nate comforts him. let nate try to get a job because he no longer has a trust fund, and navigate everything that comes with that. let vanessa be there for him. why the fuck am i phrasing my sentences like this - can you tell that i studied physics once?? oh well.

blair & vanessa handling a lot of things. vanessa meeting harold!! vanessa’s parents being disapproving of blair, but ruby standing up for her. blair & vanessa planning their future properly. blair & vanessa babysitting milo and talking about kids.

and there can be drama too, there should always be drama. but i would like wholesome stuff at the centre of it too, you know? the ivy/lola nonsense can go on in the background, i don’t actually care that much. as long as ivy doesn’t go around fucking people’s fathers for no understandable or discernable reason, i don’t really care lkdhlfdkhg. (it was just so inexplicable and so random!)

season 6: uh, i don’t know. this was a bad season for everyone in canon, except chuck. i would throw it all away. i would actually love if we had pre-series rufly instead: every time those two bring up their past together i’m like 👀 because it sounds like a dream. or focus entirely on jenny and eric and their life. i am obsessed with jenny and eric being... sort of queerplatonic, sort of like, best friends. there’s no romance and no sex between them (eric’s canonically gay, and jenny’s a lesbian because i said so) but i think the way jenny and eric are is very, very life partners in a way that isn’t romantic OR sexual. so they’d have a little place together and would support each other. and just. what are they up to now? also. kati, iz, penelope, hazel, nelly... what r they doing now? one of the few things i actually liked about s6 as it was was that nelly was that reporter and that she’d found her people in yale. nelly yuki getting a happy and fulfilling ending and being a successful woman was so good and we actually got a little bit of that. i’d like more of that, for the rest of the girls, you know?

#anon #long post #this is almost 1.9k words long but it was fun to write LDKHLGKHFGKH #gossip girl #i know there's no dair i am so sorry about that #but honestly the way this was panning out i had to like #choose between dair & blairnessa #RIP #meta #??#prompt #my writing #???#gg rewrite

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queenofallwitches · 4 years ago

Text

Why I hate people who spend their adult life arguing online;

1. Well it’s juvenile , I personally prefer to leave any and all pseudo intellectual social discourse in my 6th grade debating class...

2. You aren’t anyone important and not saying novel things, you are using people who have put information that is novel and trying to spin it into your own agenda.

3. Waste of time, fools will be foolish, and if you enjoy the discourse, toastmasters or academic debating would be more productive uses of time

4. You lack self insight

5. You are self aware and doing it due to your own egotistical, sadistic, cunning desires. (Trolls, deep fakes)

Why I never take anyone who loves to argue on menial topics seriously: (spiritually or mentally)

I am high iq and high eq. I am also “attractive by the conventional measures of society” I deal with the most pathetic and malicious idiots who cannot understand a woman who has aesthetic appeal, that can also hold a stimulating and intelligent conversation.

I don’t argue. I problem solve. Arguing online was faded out when I was 14 years old.

But people who are almost 40, ar still out there pretending that they are the most unique and authoritative source of blogging bullshit. When the world media and journalism is where we are today. The academic literature speaks a plethora more than an adult in the hamster wheel, unable to see they are playing checkers in a left vs right, design by social engineering and the think tanks of Tavistock, you play the part they put you to be.

A dialectic of irrational and repetitive arguments is never productive.

It lacks a solution or a higher order of resolution, why are you behaving to destroy when you are claiming to want to create a world better?

So unconscious and unexplained lack of self awareness in adults who are obviously insecure and ignorant becomes old quick.

I comprehend why it’s important but the level of the argument is basic, and been recycled 1000000 times.

Why am I writing this? Free speech is not free. If you can discourse over the same shit and never find a solution you are part of the same fucking problem.

How I know?

Life experience. Learning.

Love of learning and living and devouring the higher level of what if, how can we, let’s move into a better solution.

I have many years of experience that is beyond the understanding of most people and I have gone through things nobody understands.

One time I was a young teen, but was already too smart, too sassy, too aware and that left my life a wreck after I went too far.

I DID get expelled in the 11th grade. I’m no idiot, I am actually genius, by measures of conventional iq.

So I was academically talented without effort, not to boast, because I hated being smart.

But I did get the internet social discourse I needed to say; on things that we should be all knowing are social engineering in a designed dichotomy to divide and conquer.

I was in a program in high school called cum laude. I cannot recall the meaning. But we were advanced academics, not only skilled at learning but sports, extra curricular things like musicals, choir, crusade survivor camps (duke of Edinburgh), debating, tutoring/mentoring younger students & more. I won many awards without trying. Mostly for geography (social science), design tech, visual art & creative writing. I was learning university level things in year 8. And examining and analysis to debate in scholarly discourse about topics that were familiar when I was in 1-2 year of my bachelor degree. An example is philosophy, as this was mandated in the GT program. Smart is my sense of knowing how to balance the logical and the emotional. This is ONE percent of my life but one I did not follow through on and as a result I walk this path now, and I put up with the educated and intelligent “idiots” (like conformity, bullying, bitching kids in the same class) and refuse to stoop to low iq, low eq and low level idiots.

You waste time. I am not saying I am only exclusive to educated or academic professionals, that is not what this is about. This is about me being underestimated and undermined and never taken seriously because I get the most inhuman torment if I do start to speak my truth.

Lucky I found comfort in solitary rebellion. So. Let’s see what I am that is always going to be a work in progress but what my enemies forget all the time.

To remind you:

I am a born, intuitive empath, psychic and ancestral lineages of many esoteric paths play into my natural ability. I used to hate feeling, knowing and perceiving things that I could see happening, in my dreams, visions and “gnosis” before they happened. I felt powerless.

But now I know how to harness it, things change.

And yet still I have to sit back and observe, as I did for years in school, and then in the fucking shithole employment situation that was my consequence of 2 expulsions from schools. (They value conformity over fucking intelligence) I had a gang of kids in my last high school sign a petition to have me expelled and that is one example of how people in my life come to attack, hate, misunderstand and spit venom for no reason.

I never push that energy myself. But I call things as I see them. I am real , and my perception is primed to pierce the veil on those who lack authenticity, who are bullies, cunning, cruel, conformists, deep fakes, fraudulent, following orders for the sake of fear, or just narcissistic or psychopathic “organic portals” who carry out the agenda for the black lodge.

I have no issue if these people want to live a life away from me and what I protect. But when my sphere is crossed into on a repeated basis, I will study the situation in silence. I won’t speak of what I see, without objective and subjective factors weighed in a careful, cautious but not closed minded, way. See you and I are probably not the same because I’m the kind of human who always gives people the benefit of the doubt and believes that people are better, that is my detriment and my strength. I see the good and hope that others carry a genuine heart and soul. But my experience shows me that I am not wrong when I feel off, or intuitive feelings are ignored due to my “dismissal”.

When I find the truth, I always say, I knew I needed to listen to my heart and head.

That’s why I can never be broken, or betrayed, or backstabbed worse than before. It is always a learning lesson I am open to growing from.

I am always open to being wrong, or told how to be better, my flaws are on open display and I am not scared of that. I want to be more helpful to grow and nourish the people and places I interact with.

In my world, arguing online was a dying medium by my 18th birthday. For many reasons. But the enemy is a sucker for this divide and conquer, drama bred social and political bullshit that’s all just opinion and speculation. It creates a negative tone and teaches nothing of novelty or wisdom. It just shows how weak, insecure, paranoid, and self obsessed people who are too old for the high school bullshit, by miles, are. my enemies could even spit out the first longing to follow the death cult of the black lodge, I was already aware of what 95 % of you found out in 2020. I don’t mean to be pretentious or pompous, I’m not. I’m actually the most passionate, loving and open minded human I know. But the people who come into my spaces to play to prey. Imposters and the immoral, A siphoning sickness in a role to ruin, how could anyone do that but someone who is a soul-devoid parasite? That’s real fucking discourse. Let’s talk about morality, moral principles and how they are applied and actualised into the metacogition of your own microcosm.

Suggestions and solutions?

How about discourse on the metaphysics of mystic, magick, the mind and the method to mend the mundane world into a manifestation where a symbiotic system of mutually beneficial prosperity, peace, collaboration, creation & harmony can be lived on a daily basis?

How about solutions and sitting with your own shadow in the darkness to see your flaws.

how they only give me a free pass to watch the shit show. when push comes to shove and patterns that are seen in your behaviour, cyclically, are the key that unlocks the truth of anyone’s hidden motivation.

Why is deception and destruction never noted by the deceived, unless someone like me comes to break the wall of ignorance to say “hey this is the truth and it hurts and looks vile but fucking wake up”. No I don’t like the ripple impact this has but at the same time I am aw woman of strength. I will stand up for the real, authentic and genuine truth and speak my mind.

I don’t sugar coat this bullshit.

Nor will I indulge it.

Let alone be a person who lets it seep it’s tendrils into my life and what I love.

Not ever. Never.

As someone wise once said “despair ends, tactics begin”

You cannot claim any authentic path without putting your soul, blood and spirit to the test of facing your demons, slaying the darkness. I am not sure that comes with what I and others see these action and behaviour presenting to be.

I rarely write things like this, and only want to address this because i walk on a path of “rose and thorn”. My thorn will eventually slay whatever is a threat, a charlatan or a sheep in wolves clothing. By accident. Because what you are lacking is always looking to attack, I am always having to protect and defend my life from the evil.

I see you. I know the hidden hand x64. I am always open to forgiving people if they are sincere but will play reflection of the adverse if passive people are coming to what to me, is a beautiful and amazing thing, and to be acting as agents of sabotage? Shame on your lack of soul, and it’s lack of seeking to steal, stain and shit all over the things of substance, spirituality and sincerity will always be seen when I am the seer seeing the undertones.

So where is the moral compass?

Find yourself, and then you can find something real that is yours to be into and love. Maybe even this. But to fuck with what is real, while being fake, and following orders, is by far, fence sitting and fraudulent, insidious & infantile activity. Why not spend time looking inside to see why you are following this order from who for what? What is your genuine purpose? Soul mission? Higher self ? Or are you all still stuck in the love is the law is the law love under the will of the guy who wrote a book last century.

Fucking even Crowley lived his great work, and he has flaws and did things many would dispute to be “evil”. But he didn’t copy another clone from 100 years prior, following the mantra that someone else made up. That’s the stupid thing, the whole “do what thou wilt” was not do what you want but that is not a strong point for the sheep of the worst. I know as I see both sides, and as a child in the 90s I saw the dark, evil and insidious. To see that again, here, 3 decades later, playing coy but really carrying rancid intent.. is my call to commune what many will never see, because you all are complicit, and tell these fucking lies and divert productive progress by your stupid discourse. These people LOVE senseless debating. Semantics. Solutions, self awareness or seek a soul inside the empty cavern that the black lodge will set inside your sadistic serpentine, slimy soul.

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pokegeek151 · 4 years ago

Text

No one asked for this, but bonus chapter of Orion being well written!

(Takes place some time before part 2) Part 1

(CW Panic attacks)

“Come on, you’ll love him,” Holly said confidently as she practically dragged Orion through the somewhat winding halls. “You’re practically a Disney princess.”

“I think you are getting the roles here mixed up,” Orion replied. He was struggling to keep up despite his height advantage. He really needed to up the intensity of the workout routine he had started on Artemis’ behalf.

“Whatever. Visiting hours are ending.”

On a rare day off for Holly, she had decided to bring Orion to the Haven Zoological Institute to introduce him to a very particular lemur. The pixie working at the desk recognized them and waved them by without issue, and Holly mercifully slowed down once they had entered the live sanctuary.

Jayjay had his own private enclosure - partly for his safety and that of his species, partly because the researchers were too afraid of a certain maverick LEP officer and a particular genius Mud Boy to give the lemur anything less than luxury. As they approached this enclosure, Orion felt his stomach begin to tighten.

“Princess, are you sure this is a good idea?” he asked, trying to keep his voice light.

“Of course. Jayjay loves you. Well, he loves Artemis. I’m sure he’ll appreciate you, too.” As she began fiddling with the complicated door mechanism, she added mildly, “If you think about it, he’s the reason you exist.” The lock clicked open and Holly motioned for Orion to enter first.

Though the tightness had not gone away, Orion would not dare refuse an invitation from his lady. If his instincts were right, there was some sort of danger amid the broad synthetic leaves, and he would protect her from it.

“How do you figure?” he asked, partly to keep himself from focusing too much on whatever was worrying him.

Holly made a chittering call that Orion was pretty sure human vocal cords could not replicate. “You’re a result of Artemis’ most recent trauma with Angeline, right?” she said. The leaves above them rustled ominously.

Orion shifted slightly closer to Holly. “Of course.” Something was above them. Something was approaching.

“Well, Angeline got possessed because Opal wanted Jayjay.” She held out her arm towards the trees. “So if it wasn’t for Jayjay, Opal wouldn’t have done what she did, and Artemis wouldn’t have seen it, and you wouldn’t exist.” The wall of foliage beside them burst apart and the lemur in question leapt onto Holly’s arm.

Orion certainly did not squeal, thank you very much, because dashing knights do not squeal. The noise he made was what he would call a surprised gasp. The fact that it was high pitch and perhaps a bit shrill did not make it a squeal.

He stumbled back a few steps as Holly laughed. “Aw, did Jayjay frighten you? Don’t worry, he won’t bite.”

Upon seeing the lemur up close, the knot in his stomach tightened considerably. He wiped his palms on his pants as he tried desperately to catch his breath. Jayjay stared at him curiously, his nose twitching. Part of Orion, an obnoxious, pretentious part of him, knew that lemurs relied on their sense of smell primarily, though they weren’t blind. Orion felt that Jayjay was staring into his soul and finding something he didn’t like.

Jayjay tilted his head a bit, and Orion stepped back again.

“You alright?” Holly asked, realizing that Orion was more than simply startled.

“I’m not sure,” Orion said. It was hard to speak given that his lungs seemed to not want to draw in sufficient air.

Holly struggled to remember the advice Dr. Argon had given her for helping Artemis and Orion. “Um…Take an inventory of what you’re feeling?” she offered.

Orion forced in another gulp of air. “Difficulty breathing, increased heart rate, um…my st-stomach is in knots, and I think I am afraid? Is this what being afraid is?”

Holly tried to move closer, but Orion stumbled a step back as she did. Jayjay chittered nervously in her ear.

“D’Arvit,” she muttered, backing away from Orion. “It’s Jayjay, isn’t it?” She felt like an idiot. She had just been explaining how Orion’s existence was because of the trauma surrounding the lemur, and now she was seeing the results in action. She spoke to Jayjay with her Gift of Tongues, telling him to go back into the trees, and he complied, hopping off her arm onto a nearby branch and then disappearing into the sanctuary.

Orion let out a heavy, shaking sigh as the lemur vanished, but his heart did not slow down. “P-princess?” he said weakly.

Holly unceremoniously grabbed his hand. “Come on. We’re getting you out of here,” she said, roughly pulling him out of the enclosure. She didn’t bring him far, just enough that the self-locking door was no longer in view. She pulled him into a small alcove and made him sit down. “I’m pretty sure you’re having a panic attack,” she said plainly.

Orion blinked. “Okay,” he said. “How do--how do I make it stop?”

Holly was still holding his hand. She wanted to let go, wipe away the sweat, but she knew the contact would help ground him. She racked her brain for the information she’d learned in the one mental health awareness seminar she had attended during her training. Idly, she thought that only requiring one lesson on the topic was a terrible industry practice, but she put that aside to deal with later.

“Okay, breathing techniques. Um…Inhale for four, hold for eight, exhale for seven? No, hold for seven. Orion, inhale for four seconds,” she instructed, exaggerating her own breathing as an example. “Hold it for seven seconds,” she continued, “and exhale for eight.”

As he followed along, he shook his head. “Not helping. Hurts my chest, and-and--”

“Alright, we’ll try something else. You’re going to be fine.”

For the next several minutes, Holly guided Orion through the exercises she could remember. Finally, his shoulders slumped, and he let go of her hand.

“Thank you, princess,” he said, his voice a bit raw. “That creature was some sort of glamoured demon attempting to curse me. I am eternally grateful to you for breaking the spell.”

“No, he wasn’t,” Holly said, just a bit sadly. “You’re just traumatized.”

“Oh.” Orion did not look Holly in the eye, instead examining his hands like they were the most interesting thing in the world. “I suppose the good doctor should hear about this.”

“Probably.” She patted him on the shoulder, then stood up with a groan. “Let’s get out of here. You can treat me to some surface ice cream. Sim dairy doesn’t taste the same.”

“Of course. Anything for you, my princess.” He took the hand that she offered so that she could help pull him up. As he dusted off his pants and straightened the sweater he had taken to wearing while in control, he added, “Though I might suggest something else. Aren’t most fairies lactose intolerant?”

Holly rolled her eyes. “You and Artemis both. That hasn’t stopped me before and it won’t stop me now.”

They started to walk out of the sanctuary, arguing back and forth about the merits of frozen confections vs avoiding gastro-intestinal distress. Orion glanced back over his shoulder as they neared the exit. His heart was still beating harshly in his chest, but he could feel his body starting to settle. The knowledge that he could not share in something that was clearly important to both Artemis and Holly was demoralizing, but he would deal with it. That was his purpose, after all.

#my writing #writing #artemis fowl #orion fowl #what if orion was well written #threw this together for fun #entirely unedited #TW panic attacks #jayjay #jayjay the lemur

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deltaengineering · 5 years ago

Text

Winter Anime 2020 Reviews: brought to you by quarantine

aw shit look who’s got the time to do some of these again yeah that’s right it’s me

22/7

For 11/12 of its runtime this was an astonishingly forced exercise in hacky tragic backstory that thoroughly answers the question of what happens when assembly line jobbers jump on the already rickety KyoAni bandwagon. So I was ready to give it a well deserved meme score of 3.14/10. Then it remembered it actually had a gimmick and managed to completely fail at that as well, with one of the most thematically misguided endings I can think of. Oh well, if nothing else I laughed. 2/10

Asteroid in Love

Well, it’s competent and inoffensive. What else can I say? I guess it’s pretty amusing how blatant the gay marriage implications get by the end, but that’s not really, you know, quality all by its own (and Harukana Receive does it better). It’s also weird how its first season clearly ends at episode 9 and it just quickly does a second one in the time it has left. Apart from that it’s a slightly above-average Kiraralike with good character moments but a real drought of content (note: dropping exposition on your topic isn’t content) in the middle. Fun enough, but really doesn’t leave me wanting more. 6/10

Dorohedoro

This had much potential to suck but then it didn’t. The biggest surprise was that Dorohedoro is a comedy; a splatter comedy with a core story worth taking seriously, yes, but this is not horror, or mystery, or even action, even if it has all those elements at points. And it manages to be consistently funny. The other big surprise is that the nonsense really does start to come together and is meaningful where it counts, so it has much better worldbuilding than most. Looks really good too - you might take exception to the CG, but it allowed MAPPA to make the rest look great so it’s overall still a plus. Definitely needs a sequel though, because the plot seems to just get started and then it ends like there’s an episode next week. 8/10

ID: INVADED

Ei Aoki’s Inception fanfic turned out very nice, with neat visuals, cool characters and a story that comes together in the end. I mean, come on, it’s an anime where Kenjiro Tsuda literally talks people to death, how can I not like it. It’s not perfect; it’s stuck with some pacing problems, strangely superfluous side characters and ultimately less ambition than it could (maybe even should) have. But it’s also weird in a good way and moderately thoughtful without being pretentious about it. 8/10

If My Favorite Pop Idol Made It to the Budokan, I Would Die

Romantic comedy? Eh, maybe not quite. Funny riffing on wota dumbassery without being mean-spirited about it? Yep. Oshibudo gets the tone (the critical aspect in a show like this) right and it actually ranks fairly high simply as an idol show when that’s not even the point, which is really surprising. It’s just very charming, even if a little simple. 8/10

Keep Your Hands Off Eizouken!

So everyone’s losing their shit over how great Eizouken is and I’m just like nah, man. Not that it’s truly bad, it certainly has its fun moments and undeniably cool animation at times. But it really says a lot when in a show supposedly all about how amazing creativity is, the no-fun-allowed producer is the only character I like - Kanamori is indeed great, shame about Nerdlinger and Plot Device though. And it’s full of the kind of standard boomer animation bromides that just make me think “well, if Ghibli is supposed to be so great, why am I watching this instead of the real thing?” It also has notably poor and uncreative use of background music, which wouldn’t irk me as much if it wasn’t lecturing on the topic. At this point I’m fairly certain that I simply don’t like Yuasa’s style much, no matter what he does. 6/10

Magia Record: Puella Magi Madoka Magica Side Story

So I’m watching the “final” episode of this and I realize that I care about this random, poorly explained fanservice fight between Mami and Sayaka much more than I care about any of the characters this show is ostensibly about. And that’s pretty much Magireco in a nutshell: It has very little of its own, what it does have is split among way too many video game characters, and it’s at its best when it’s just being dumb and bombastic or lazily replicating the style of Madoka. It’s definitely not good (and the things it does to the Madoka lore are double ungood), but as long as you keep in mind that it’s just meaningless Madoka-ish things, it’s barely entertaining enough. 5/10

Natsunagu!

Natsunagu turned out to be a pleasant (if very cheap) short film that’s severely compromised by broken up into weekly 3-minute chunks. Episodes that short can work, but not for material that depends on atmosphere and character engagement. I can only assume I’d like it more if I watched it all in one go. 5/10

Science Fell in Love, So I Tried to Prove It

This one started out as a one-note romantic comedy with the rare novel note, which then got more and more tired as it went on, and the introduction of decidedly less novel characters didn’t help. But by the end it recovered somewhat from not being much good at comedy anymore by being actually pretty good at paying off a romance, which is maybe even rarer. Remove bear though, what the hell. 6/10

Somali and the Forest Spirit

Somali just kept doing its thing (which is dadfeels/protect the blob). Still can’t think of another show so intensely laser-focused on that one thing, to the point they’re constructing an entire fantasy universe around it. I liked the fluffy/introspective parts a lot more so than the grimdark/”let’s get Somali into some danger so dad can rescue her” ones, but at least the former ones are more common overall, and I understand that both are important for the other one to work. So yeah, good show, even if I wish it used the big guns less often. 7/10

Toilet-Bound Hanako-kun

I wasn’t too hot on this one at first (apart from the looks, which were always really cool), but I have to say it has won me over by the end. It has likeable and occasionally funny characters, some meat to its setting and a mildly interesting streak of intrigue running though it. Of course it also doesn’t really answer anything, but I’m satisfied. 7/10

Yatogame-chan Kansatsu Nikki S2

Peer pressure presents: the other tourism short of the season, ft. material that fits the format. While it’s still not really good, it’s an improvement over S1. Mainly because it stops trying to extract humor from the characters themselves and gets back to dropping the hot #nagoyatruths, which are the thing I’m here for. 6/10

#anime #review #winter2020 #22/7 #asteroid in love #dorohedoro #id:invaded #oshibudo #eizouken #magia record #natsunagu #science fell in love so i tried to prove it #somali and the forest spirit #toilet-bound hanako-kun #yatogame-chan #nagoyatruths

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stan-denbrough · 5 years ago

Note

What type of music do the losers listen to ? would they recommend songs to each other ? get into arguments about singers ?

Okay, so this is a very involved topic.

Bill likes soundcloud rap and heavy metal, it actually makes the other Losers sick to their stomachs. He has the good sense not to recommend his music, because the other Losers would beat his ass if he ever even tried. Maybe Stan lets him play his music? But he sits in pained uncomfortable silence as his body slowly deteriorates. It’s worth it to sit thigh to thigh with Bill, sharing earphones, feeling Bill’s warmth, having Bill casually touch him when he points out a part he likes. Someone save Stan.

Bev likes indie rock. She’s very protective of her music. The most mainstream thing she likes is Paramore, and that’s because she met Hayley Williams and she was really nice and maybe Bev dreams of forming her own band one day (see the band au post). Listen, Bev is just as angry as I am that After Laughter got no grammy nominations!!

Richie also likes indie rock, but more mainstream indie rock, and he constantly proselytizes to the Losers. Beep Beep Richie is just as often used when he tries to grab the aux chord because, wow Richie, we’ve heard of panic at the disco, you’re not reinventing the wheel. Also Richie screams along to whatever he puts on and it’s just about getting on everyone’s last nerve. Richie also likes Ed Sheeran, so if that should tell you anything.

Mike likes neo soul, because previous generations of Mike would like R&B but that genre is pretty much dead. He’s happy to share his favorite artists but he’s always adorably embarrassed about it. Mike also likes rap music, but we’re talking political rap, meaningful shit. Mike gets so flustered and happy whenever someone asks him what he’s listening to.

Eddie likes hip hop, because you hoes thought I’d have Eddie like happy girly pop music because it fits your preconceived notions of babbo boy Eddie and nah, Eddie is the personification of (ง'̀-'́)ง and he too likes to pimp his music, but it’s pretty mainstream. This gets on Bill and Mike’s nerves. Because Eddie will blast Eminem or Drake and Bill wants shitposting music from Lil Pump and Mike wants to actually appreciate the lyrics so he’s looking for like Kendrick. However all of them come together to play the hell out of Travis Scott. Richie and Eddie hate each other’s music in particular, and often try to play their own louder and scream over each other.

Ben likes pop music. If it’s mainstream and inoffensive, Ben is white mom swaying like “Ooh yeah... I like this. This is good!” Ben is an unironic swiftie, and as we’ve said before, he’s a kpoppie. Ben is not confrontational though, so he’s not going to stan anyone, or cancel anyone on twitter.

Stan is a bitch raised on classical music. So he always internally scoffs when Richie or Mike or Bev are on their pretentious” my music is meaningful” bullshit. Then Stan had his gay awakening and basically became a shill for anything Gay. Stan has my taste in music because he’s gay and he’s my favorite, sorry! Anyway, Stan’s tastes intersect with most of them at specific points. Stan and Ben can dance to Carly Rae Jepsen and hope no one can see them. Stan and Eddie can jam out to Cardi B. Stan and Mike can sit and listen to Jessie Ware (and cuddle). Stan and Richie can. Stan and Bev can frolic through a field of flowers listening to chvrches. Stan can even point out the guitar riffs in Bill’s screamo music are derived from classical music while Bill looks at him in awe, like he’s the smartest fucking person he’s ever met and Stan blushes.

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colorofmymindposts · 4 years ago

Text

Heart Skips A Beat

Chapter Two

Fandom: Schitt’s Creek

Pairing: Patrick Brewer/David Rose

Characters: David Rose, Patrick Brewer

Rating: Teen and Up

Status: Incomplete, Next Chapter To Be Posted Next Week for real this time I promise it’s all written out. Chapter One can be read here or you can read the whole work on ao3.

Word Count: 1748 for this chapter, 4402 for the entire story so far

Summary: Stevie doesn't give into David's demands to let him stay at her place when Alexis has lice. So Patrick offered. Patrick Brewer with the straight leg denim. Patrick Brewer with the awful taste in decor and who loves poking fun at David. Patrick Brewer with all the help and business advice David needs to not run this store into the ground before it even starts. Patrick, who David is starting to warm up to despite his best intentions not to.

Tags: Alternative Universe - Canon Divergence, Season 3 AU, Fluff, Flirting

Story:

It really was a gamble, this: inviting David over to stay the night. They hadn’t spent any time together outside of the store except for things related to the store itself, and Patrick just hadn’t worked up the courage yet to invite David out for a drink. In his defense, he’d done his research and found out that the only bar in the vicinity was a sleazy dive bar on the edge of town. That sounded more like the venue for a mindless hookup than a romantic first date.

Which, is this a date? Patrick really can’t be sure. Yes, David had accepted, but the man probably thinks his sister having lice is nothing less than a doomsday situation and would do anything to get out of it. But he didn’t blink an eye at Patrick’s pretty obvious attempts to wine and dine him, so at least Patrick is not being rejected outright. Even if David just considers them friends. Which is absolutely a hundred percent fine.

“So, in the interest of getting to know each other better, I noticed a member of the baseball in your room,” David says in a way that is so him. “If that is the baseball.”

God, Patrick is so far gone for him.

He has to curl his lips inwards to stifle a laugh before it escapes him. “Yeah, you got it right. Lou Gehrig was actually called a baseball player, just in case you were wondering.”

“Isn’t that what I said?”

“Close enough,” he says, deciding not to get into the fact that Gehrig was a first baseman, not just a player. “I guess I’m just a bit picky about the terminology and everything since I played it all throughout school and for fun in college. I’m actually looking for an intramural club in town right now, if you know of any.”

“Were you trying to say ‘instrumental’?” David asks, his face scrunched up cuter than Patrick should find it considering the other man is trying to mock him. “Because the closest thing to that is the Jazzagals, and I have a feeling you’d have a hard time fitting in.”

“No,” he replies, not able to stop the grin that plasters itself on his face. “Sports that are done for fun are called intramural sports. It’s a real thing, David.”

“Right, right,” the other man stutters out, clearly embarrassed. He takes a long sip of his wine before continuing. “Do they at least feed you afterward? Because I don’t really see the point in getting all worked up and sweaty for no real benefit in the end.”

It’s a good thing Patrick is not eating or drinking anything because otherwise he would have choked. He almost blanks on the entire topic of conversation.

He feels it’s only fair to give it right back.

“Baseball is a good way to release a lot of pent up energy. I normally feel pretty great being sweaty after a round.”

The look on David’s face is priceless. His cheeks up to the tips of his ears are beet red.

“Umm...that’s. That’s good to know. I was dying to find out what that was like,” David replies, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Patrick offers softly, “Maybe you could with me?”

David’s eyes widen to practically the size of their dinner plates. Fuck, he’s got to salvage this; he went too far.

“Be on the same team, that is, if you’d want to learn more about it. If I find one in Schitt’s Creek.”

“Oh! Right, well I don’t think that’d be a good idea,” David deflects with his classic smile. “I broke my nose playing basketball for ten minutes, so being athletically-inclined is not one of my strengths.”

With David, there’s always a story. However, Patrick decides not to embarrass David any further by delving into that tale.

“And what did you do, growing up?”

The man across from him almost lights up.

“I’ve always been drawn to fashion, the arts. Once my mother introduced me to the Avant-Garde style, I knew what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. My friends and I were more into the anti-establishment free expressionist movement, so I wasn’t a part of any organized clubs in school or anything,” David finishes, as though the ‘anti-establishment free expressionist movement’ doesn’t need any further clarification.

Those words coming out of anyone else’s mouth, Patrick would think that they are just pretentious—and David absolutely is, make no mistake—but the way he tells it, his passion is there and genuine. It’s the same quality Patrick recognized when David first walked into Ray’s office, looking to set up a general but very specific store.

They finish dinner and a good bit of the wine (mostly thanks to David) quietly but comfortably. Patrick teases David to help him with the dishes even though he knows the man will balk at anything to do with cleaning, and he gets a good laugh out of David’s insistence that he is a guest, proceeding to complain that this is “practically like staying at the motel” where he has to clean up after Alexis “all the time.”

It’s so strange how close this feels to something domestic, as if they are together in a way, and yet not. Patrick is very much aware of the invisible barrier he establishes between himself and David. He’s careful not to brush by David as he passes him to put a glass back, always conscientious of where his hands are at all times. It’s just so hard at times like these when he wants nothing more than to hold this man in his arms.

Patrick’s got to act natural here though. After all, he was the one who invited David over. And they’re business partners. He’s got to learn how to stamp out his crush before it leads to him putting himself through anymore heartache and embarrassment.

“So, it’s only about 7,” Patrick starts, painfully aware of the still very early evening hour. “How about I put on the TV for a bit and then we can turn in for the night?”

“Okay,” David agrees without any fuss, a rarity for him.

Patrick goes through the channels, but David insists on watching 27 Dresses when it shows up on the screen.

“I heard from the director herself that Katherine Heigl was a terror to work with,” David says with an odd fondness in his eyes.

He’s been with David long enough to know it’s the look his business partner gets when he’s reminiscing about his life before Schitt’s Creek. But the longing for renewed celebrity status in David’s eyes doesn’t compare to when he talks about the store. A dazzling spark lights those dark brown eyes, and his hands become restless in clear excitement and agitation for the vision he’s building. Building with Patrick. God, he could write a song about those eyes.

“—but James Marsden makes it more than worth watching it for soo. Patrick? You still with me?”

“Yeah,” he’s quick to reassure, snapping back to reality. He smiles warmly at the man sitting beside him and gives the most honest answer he can: “Always.”

David folds his lips on top of each other, looking away almost...bashfully? That’s not it. He’s probably just embarrassed that Patrick admitted that. There’s only so much Patrick can lie about to David though.

Luckily, there isn’t much talking happening. At least, not from him. David, however, chats through the whole film, giving bits of specific trivia and commentary. Patrick smiles along despite not understanding half of it. Still, just when he’s looking at the screen, it’s as though he can feel David’s eyes on him. But anytime he musters up the courage to gaze back at the man sitting next to him, David’s eyes are fixed on the movie, so probably he’s giving in to wishful thinking.

As the credits roll, David unwinds in a truly hilarious, exaggerated way, his arms outstretched in half arc while he lets out a big and adorable yawn.

“You must be exhausted after giving director’s commentary for two hours,” Patricks offers with fake sympathy.

“Hilarious, but as a matter of fact, I am a little worn out after today’s shift at the store,” David counters. “And I can go on way longer than that about a movie.”

He chuckles a bit at that, letting David win this one. However, as the man looks uncertainly between the couch and the stairs, Patrick knows instantly what’s on his mind.

“So I’m thinking we can put you up in my room—”

He stops when David gives a scoff, his eyes the size of saucers.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting you to be this forward,” David says, almost as if he’s scandalized.

Shit.

“No no no, David I wouldn’t—I’m taking the couch tonight, you don’t have to worry—“

He has to keep himself from spiraling because he’s so embarrassed David has confirmed he knows Patrick’s interested in him. But David has to know Patrick would never suggest they share a bed, let alone sleep together, when they have never even kissed. But that would only happen if David was interested. Which this has only made clearer that he can’t be.

Patrick takes a breath before continuing.

“I just figured with you having to stay at the motel most of the time that you’d like a real bed. You’re my guest.”

David at least has the decency to look slightly admonished.

“I um, right. Of course, I knew that,” David lets out quickly in a nervous laugh. “I was joking. Obviously. So I’m just going to...go. Sleep in your bedroom now.”

David nods along as he says the words as if he’s carefully considering each of them, and Patrick is at a complete loss to conjure up anything meaningful to reply with at this point.

David backs into the stairwell before righting himself, practically fleeing up the steps. Patrick moves to position himself at the bottom of the stairs so that the other man can hear him, but he’s not brave enough to follow after David now.

“I didn’t get a chance to change the sheets yet, so I can—“

There’s the sound of water running, so Patrick stops while he’s ahead. He pads up the steps and collects some clean sheets from Ray’s linen closet before refitting the bed.

He hopes David can sleep tonight because there’s no chance he’s ever going to be able to again.

Notes: I am so sorry this update took literally 7 months; anyone who's been reading this and waiting for an update has the patience of a saint. Unfortunately, my life recently has been a series of hectic events, and I've had a massive case of writer's block. Plus the rest of the story went through about six different drafts before I was happy with it. The good news is that the story is actually all written out now, and I will be uploading the final chapter within the week! Let me know what your thoughts are! Likes and reblogs are appreciated!

#david x patrick #david rose #patrick brewer #schitt's creek #my writing #fanfiction #heart skips a beat

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sympathyfortheblinderdevil · 5 years ago

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All Is Fair Ch. 3

Anticipation

Tommy hung up the phone and sighed. Her voice was different; she sounded nervous, and that could mean that some of the more unsavory parts of his reputation had caught up with him. One reason he wanted to spend some time with Lia is that she seemed unbothered by his legend. Sure, she checked up a bit when she realized that he was Tommy Shelby, but she was hardly trembling in awe of his status. She still told him that his art was “pretentious”, and he still remembered the shape of her dark red lips as she said it.

“Fuck,” he whispered and leaned back in his chair.

“It was her cousin,” he thought. He recalled the look on Jenny’s face as she approached the pair of them. Lia had leaned closer to him to share her amateur critique of that ghastly Picasso, and Tommy was having a not so subtle look down her dress. “She couldn’t get Lia out of there fast enough.”

He opened a drawer and took out a directory of Birmingham city offices. He turned a few pages and trailed his finger down to the spot where Jenny’s department was listed “Arts and Leisure.” He thought of calling to personally thank her department for their support of the auction but hesitated as he reached for the phone. Ada had been the principal contact, and he imagined that a call from him would seem heavy-handed—exactly the image he was seeking to avoid.

Women who were jaded by way of their privileged upbringing were all Tommy saw anymore. He looked forward to seeing Lia because she seemed different, more modern. Tommy craved the company of someone like her, someone who could be a diversion. If she was going to be worth his time, she wouldn’t let the opinions of others get inside her head.

***

Jenny had resigned herself to the fact that Lia was hell-bent on seeing Tommy’s invitation through, and she might as well get used to it. She had discreetly asked around about Tommy’s recent business dealings and charitable contributions and had come away with satisfactory answers. He made his money from the import and export of car parts, had a legal gin distillery, and five homes for orphans— all with exemplary records. Maybe she had overreacted, she thought. This was, after all, just a date.

She would feel better, though, if Lia would take her warnings a bit more seriously. Lia had always been a bit of a dreamer. As a kid, she never did very well at school despite being highly intelligent. She was always lost in a book or daydreaming instead of paying attention to her studies. She was not scatterbrained and could hold forth on serious intellectual topics, but she was not very practical. Jenny feared that her cousin viewed Tommy Shelby as an adventure rather than the flesh and blood leader of the Shelby Family. It was a feeling that Jenny couldn’t shake.

On Wednesday night Lia stood in the middle of her room in her bra and drawers, surrounded by dresses that she had tried on and promptly discarded. She had spent the last few days consumed with anticipation for her night with Tommy, and now things seemed to be falling apart.

“He’s already seen me in my good dress!” Lia squinted at the pile of fabric at her feet and rubbed her temples, “I guess I’ll just go naked!”

Jenny found the scene comically tragic and offered to help. “I’ll find something of mine that will do.”

Lia cupped her breasts and sighed in exasperation, “What will I do with these?”

“I’ll find something,” Jenny laughed as she walked down the hall to search her wardrobe. “Besides, Mr. Shelby would think that you were gorgeous dressed in a coal sack. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

The purring sound of Tommy’s Bugatti was a sound foreign to the ears of Jenny and Lia’s neighbors, and the sight of Tommy Shelby was truly remarkable. Nosey housewives peeked from behind curtains and barely cracked doors as he approached the Montrose girls’ house. Before he could knock, Jenny opened the door to welcome him in. The less time the neighbors had to gawp at their esteemed visitor, the better. She ushered him into their warm sitting room and offered to take his coat and hat.

“Please, sit down. Lia will be ready in a moment.”

They took their seats, and Jenny watched as Tommy took in their modest sitting room. He noticed that it was not unlike the parlor that Polly had fixed up for them on Watery Lane, although the room he currently sat in had far fewer examples of religious iconography. They sat in two light blue chairs that were draped in lace doilies. A sturdy looking couch sat against a far wall. There was a fire in the grate of a small fireplace and Tommy noted that the worn rug before it was scarred with tiny burn marks from embers that had popped out through the years. His eyes followed the brickwork up to where there was a portrait of Lia’s grandparents above the mantle, and they sternly looked down their noses in judgement of the gangster as he sat waiting to defile their granddaughter.

Jenny cleared her throat and spoke, “It’s not much, but it’s enough for us. The house used to belong to my parents.”

Tommy nodded and reached into his pocket for his cigarette case, “It is very nice.” His eyes searched the tabletops for an ashtray. “May I smoke?”

“Of course.” Jenny motioned toward a smoking stand tucked just behind his chair. Although Tommy’s manners were impeccable, she felt odd in his presence and struggled to keep from fidgeting with her bracelets. She told herself that he was just a man, but he owned this town, and that was hard to get around. She had decided to ask him if he would like some tea, but Tommy spoke first.

“Jenny, may I call you Jenny?”

She nodded and Tommy continued, “You’ve lived in Birmingham your whole life, and you’ve no doubt heard some things about my family… things that may be of concern to you since I want to spend time with Lia.”

Jenny sat up straighter and she glanced at the stairs before returning her focus to Tommy. “Go on, Mr. Shelby.”

“Please, call me Tommy.” He looked at her earnestly and his lips curved into the faintest smile.

“Alright, then. Tommy.”

He leaned forward slightly and lowered his voice. “I want you to know that Lia is safe in my presence. We’ve all had to make certain decisions, make certain sacrifices, do things to advance in our chosen careers. However, in recent years my past work has paid off. I no longer need to do those things that you may have heard about.”

Jenny’s face couldn’t hide the apprehension she felt, but she softly replied, “Thank you for your assurances.”

Just then, Lia came down the narrow steps that led into the room.

She wore a simple dark green, dropped waist dress that she had paired with her grandmother’s opal broach. Her hair was held in place with a velvet band that came across her forehead, and she had borrowed Jenny’s “good” beaded shawl. Though she didn’t have money, the girl had style. Somehow, with the help of her cousin, she had pulled together an outfit that could pass for the latest fashion. She would fit in perfectly wherever Tommy took her.

Tommy stood, and the spark behind his eyes lit up when she walked into the light. He had thought about her often in the last few days, his mind always returning to the way that she bit her bottom lip when he asked her if she would have been so honest with him if she had known who he was. She was doing it again. She was biting her lip as he stared at her and smoked.

***

The sun’s glow had nearly disappeared below the horizon by the time Lia climbed into Tommy’s car. He usually used a driver, but not tonight. He offered her a cigarette, and when she declined he lit his own. As he drove through the narrow streets of Small Heath he stole a glance at her. She was looking his way and ventured a small smile.

“I gather that you have learned more about me since we last met… Like where I work, where I live…”

“Does that bother you?” Tommy asked.

“Not particularly. I was happy that you called.” She smoothed her skirt over her knees.

“Mmmmm,” he hummed.

They drove in silence for a few moments with him looking her way at intervals. Finally, he spoke again. “And what about you? Do you know who I am now?”

She licked her lips and replied, “Yes.”

She shifted in her seat until she was facing him. Her shawl softly sparkled in the gathering dark, and her red lips stood in contrast to her pale skin. Tommy considered her answer. It really didn’t tell him much. She knew that he was a businessman and an MP, but did how much did she know about the Peaky Blinders?

“I don’t care about all that, Tommy.”

They didn’t speak again until Tommy pulled the car down a narrow, dark lane. It was then that he suddenly asked, “Do you like boats?”

“Sure. Although I can’t say that I’ve been on too many of them.”

Lia turned toward Tommy and in the fading twilight she could barely detect a smile playing around his lips.

“Good. Because we are having dinner on a boat.”

Tommy maneuvered the car through the gates of Charlie Strong’s yard and Lia could see a faint glow in the distance. When they neared the canal, she could see what it was. Tommy coolly watched as Lia brought her hand up to her mouth and gasped.

Earlier that day, Tommy had instructed Charlie and Curly to ready their best longboat for the night. Lights were strung along the fore end leading up to the cabin and they twinkled and reflected light off the black water. The smell of roasting meat and the faint sound of music drifted on the breeze.

They walked toward the spectacle as Tommy guided her with a gentle hand on the small of her back. Cobbles crunched beneath their feet and the sky was pitch. Lia felt like they were the only two people on Earth.

“What’s all of this?” Lia softly asked. She felt like Alice down the rabbit hole; it was all so surreal.

“This is me Uncle Charlie’s scrapyard, and this —he gestured toward the boat — is where we are going to have dinner.” Tommy wanted her all to himself, and so he had brought her to a place where he could be sure that they would suffer no interruptions.

Tommy boarded first, then steadied her by holding on to her waist as she climbed aboard. She was distinctly aware of the pressure of his thumbs just above her hip bones as she stepped down onto the deck. She stumbled a bit and tottered into Tommy.

She took in Tommy’s laughing eyes. “I told you, I’ve not been on many boats.”

“You’ll be fine now. You’ve already done the hardest part.” As he spoke the laughter faded from his eyes only to be replaced by something softer.

She was close enough to see the curve of his glossy black lashes, the tiny lines at the corners of his eyes, and the scars on his cheek and the bridge of his nose. She had promised herself that she wouldn’t get carried away, but she could feel her neck relaxing as her face turned up to his. His lips were inches away from hers and her eyes were sliding closed when she stopped herself. She forced herself to pull away. “I’m glad you were there to catch me.”

He still had his hands on her waist when she turned to see faint candlelight flickering inside the cabin. The table was laid with fine china and crystal glasses stood next to a bottle of champagne. A covered roasting pan and a vase of flowers were in the center.

Completely dazzled, she smiled up at him, “Tommy, I have never seen anything like this before.”

“Well it’s time you have then, isn’t it.”

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby #peaky blinders fiction #peaky blinders fic #tommy shelby x oc #all is fair

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ohnohetaliasues · 5 years ago

Text

Stones to Abbigale {Ch. 1}

(Kat)

This is going to be the worst thing I’ve ever read, isn’t it?

Am I going to actively want to die? Yes, most likely. But apparently, because I run a blog like this, I can endure suffering.

Flashbacks to Blood Raining Night.

Here we go. We will start with the introduction, written by the onion lord himself.

I want to be direct, my name is Greg. I go by “Onision” online.

Okay, I dunno what it is, but something feels off about this sentence.

This book is made up of events that occurred in my own life mixed with fiction from the made up life of James. James is essentially a better version of myself.

I can’t imagine how good that could be, seeing as the man who wrote this is a child predator and is just an overall piece of hot garbage.

His home, his school & his life all resemble my own at his age.

Don’t ever use a fucking ampersand instead of the word ‘and.’ It’s just bad grammar.

The people James analyzes and is surrounded by are not so unlike those I’ve known as well.

Analyzes?

Why?

I have experienced much of the loss James has however his happier moments are more often than not also mine.

Then write a memoir. Not this.

I want to share my story without it being purely non-fiction.

I mean, some people do this with books about their lives, but this feels... Odd?

I simply felt this approach would make for a far better book. At points I cried while writing this, at others I laughed.

Congratulations.

I don’t care.

Stones To Abbigale is not just a book I wrote, it is a piece of who I am.

That’s a given for all writers, but I still don’t care.

I’m going to rip this book to shreds.

Okay here we go.

I was asleep until I met her, but when I woke, I learned the meaning of "perfect imperfection."

Is this Onion boy trying to be poetic?

It actually made me want to die.

I've always been the type of person to focus on stars as we spin beneath them, the cool breeze on a sunny day, scattered patches of grass under my feet, the world around me, often forgetting to even glance at the one within.

‘The one within.’

Okay so the way this is written makes those three things seem disconnected. I often do stuff like this when I write, but I’d write it like ‘as we spin beneath them, focus on the breeze on a sunny day, on the scattered patches of grass, etc.’

You couldn’t pay me all the money in the world to rewrite that garbage sentence. This is all very waxing poetic and not in a good well structured way.

I had remained emotionally unexplored for so much of my life.

That must’ve been boring, not experiencing human emotions like the rest of us.

You sociopath, you.

It's painful knowing some can go an entire lifetime without understanding their own heart, an internal lock waiting for the right key to change everything.

Yeah, whatever, shut the hell up, you whiny idiot.

This is like an introduction by a teenager who just opened a poetry book and was like ‘yup. I wanna write like that.’

Except you aren’t William Blake or Walt Whitman and you never will be.

Sorry, Onion boy.

Except I’m not.

Die mad about it, grease ball.

It was the first Monday of November. I opened my eyes, blinded by my recently painted wall-to-wall white room. Even my bed frame, constructed of purely metal, was painted white.

Okay, cool. I’m a descriptive writer and I take every chance I can get to mention details, but even I find this description awkward. It feels irrelevant in this situation.

It bounced off the walls causing my eyelids to desperately clamp together. Painting my room like this was a clear act of subtle self-inflicted psychological torture.

Then why in the sweet hell did you do it? Do you enjoy suffering?

Actually, he probably does.

Because this is edgy as hell.

I was going through another phase, from darkness to light, and repeat. Seemed like the story of my life.

This is so edgy I am in physical pain.

You know your symbolism is good when it’s so random that you have to point it out and explain it to your audience.

My mom could see the darker colors were depressing me, I felt comforted by them, but found there were good aspects of both extremes. I was happy to visit either side, they are both so simple. But right now the intense light bouncing from wall to wall felt like it was ripping my mind in two.

Am I an idiot or is that just... word salad?

My mom didn't wake me. My alarm clock sat on my dresser with no explanation for it's failure to function. The clock only illuminated a blank stare with 8:17 written all over it's face. While entirely robotic, I imagined the clock to have the dumbest possible expression, one complementing its failure to behave any way outside its random glitch-infested nature.

That was the worst way to write a personification ever, but okay.

In the reflection of it's plastic face I could see myself unconsciously making the dumb expression I was imaging the clock to have. I laughed in my casual dorky tone and began to get ready to leave home.

I’m not laughing, idiot.

Without breakfast, I left for school with a bogus note in hand to idealistically explain my tardiness.

You... You wrote a fake note?

Do you realize you could get in trouble for that?

You’re an idiot.

I think most of my teachers were too exhausted to worry about small variances in our appearance from time to time. With how low their pay likely was, I imagined there were very few rules most teachers cared about.

That isn’t true at all. Teachers have to pay attention to rules unless they want to get, I dunno, fired.

It was another cold day in Lakewood. The wind hit my eyes forcing tears to form in the corners as I sped along the sidewalk at a no-doubt unreasonable speed.

I cannot imagine any good imagery for this scene. I’m just imagining this gif:

I passed Lauren and Raymon walking the opposite direction, no doubt headed toward the nearby church where all the students go to smoke, make out and hide out till school ends.

Um okay. Does this guy know that if characters don’t have relivance to the story, if they have no reason to be named, than they don’t have to be?

No.

Because he’s a 34 year old man baby.

They seemed so childish as they held hands and smiled excitedly as if they had gotten away with some tremendous crime.

That sentence seems so robotic I genuinely can’t.

Mr. Hanson, my heavy-set, middle-aged history teacher, rolled his eyes as I walked into class. "James, talk to me after class" he said quickly, looking away from me as if I were an undervalued employee who was barely important enough to make eye contact with let alone deliver a full sentence to.

It bothers me so deeply that a new paragraph wasn’t started when this character talked.

"I have a note," I said. He ignored me, and continued his lecture on yet another topic that would not only be completely useless later in life, but wasn't even relevant for even a few seconds after the words left his mouth.

Why is this teacher acting like a petty teenager?

I’m deeply annoyed by this.

And yeah, it’s relevant. You have tests, you idiot. Take notes. And it’s also history, which is, again, relevant.

In conclusion, shut your mouth and stop bitching.

There was only 15 minutes left in the class, but I felt it would be more stimulating to integrate myself into the room to yet again study my classmates' behavior than to sit in a hall watching the rows of scum covered tiles inevitably slide off the decaying walls.

That’s a health code violation, friends.

Or Onion is an awful writer and he thinks describing a school like this is a good idea. My money is on that.

For as long as I remember I've enjoyed seeing how people move around and talk to each other, like they're all animals at the zoo.

Something is wrong with you, friend. Liking to people watch is one thing, but doing shit like this is something else entirely.

Uh, try sociopath-like?

Creepy as hell?

We’ll go with both.

I would try to deliver a more accurate analogy if I felt there was one

Bitch, there is. I can’t name one off the top of my head because reading this makes me feel like my brain is melting out of my ears, but I’m 100% sure there is a better analogy. Even though this feels more like a simile.

but so many of them seemed incredibly unaware of themselves, just living life as if it were some generic predefined routine.

Oh, and you’re so much better obviously, you pretentious bastard.

Sometimes I felt like an alien who had a VIP pass to submerge myself in primitive human culture just for entertainment.

Congratulations, that’s also what you sound like.

I sense everything I can take in around me. The seemingly limitless audible tones, tremors in the voices of growing children rang in my ears. In studying people, I found myself gradually learning to literally feel the various personality types I encountered.

Do you... Do you have psychic powers?

If not, shut your damn mouth.

I hyper analyzed every inconsistent smell, the seemingly random clothing styles, freckles, and assorted hairstyles filled my mind with questions. Trying to rationalize and understand what sequence of events led them to decide who they would become.

You are the most pretentious protagonist I have ever read. I’m half a chapter in and I already fucking hate you.

This character is so poorly written and immediately unlikable. i cannot relate to him at all and if someone does, I suggest you go get some help because how this asshole is behaving doesn’t sound human.

I took favor of categorizing most everyone around me. The socially inept know-it-all, the dumb attention-seeking drama kid

On behalf of all drama kids, go fuck yourself.

and the bleach blonde bimbo who gets overly defensive at the slightest hint of criticism.

Do you mean you?

Onion obviously didn’t let anyone edit this garbage.

Then there were the kids who just hoped no one noticed them at all. There was so much to be seen, to be considered and organized in my mind.

Mhm.

I don’t care.

Class had just ended so I walked over to Mr. Hanson's' desk &

And*

placed the tardy note down in passing. As I walked out with the rest of my class, he called after me. "James! We still need to talk!" I responded but continued to walk outside the room. "I have to be early to my next class! Let's talk tomorrow!"

You’re an asshole.

And I hate you.

I walked quickly down the hall towards my art class, which was awkwardly placed in a trailer outside my clearly poorly funded high school.

Um.

Okay.

On my way to the class a fight had already broken out between two jocks who, no doubt, both had controlling, iron-fisted fathers who brainwashed them into believing conflicts between men are best resolved with the bloodying of their fists.

That’s a bold thing to assume, dear Onion.

These kinds of men plagued my mind with wonder. I could not conceive a scenario in which they could justify their primitive & pointless mentalities yet they would always continue to perpetuate their self-destructive attitudes as if it offered the slightest legitimate benefit.

Oh, shut your pretentious mouth.

Most everyone nearby crowded around the fight. None of them likely cared who was winning, what it was about or how far it went. All they ever seemed to show concern for was their own amusement, always excited to see violence without having to pull out their wallets to pay for it.

Are you joking?

Where are the teachers?

This is complete bullshit.

This is high school, not a fucking fight club.

Does Onion even try to make this believable? Or is he just vomiting all over his keyboard and just accepting whatever nonsense that makes?

As the sounds of flesh collided fist to cheek & chest quickly followed the howls from the surrounding students. They would scream "Oooohhhh!" as if it were sincerely delightful to witness creatures like themselves suffer & fall apart before their eyes.

The use of ampersands is making me lose my goddamn mind.

Even if I had time to stop, I never really took pleasure in seeing strangers hurt each other. Most all fights seemed avoidable and were often initiated for a senseless reason.

Go choke on air. This protagonist annoys me more than any protagonist has. I’m not joking. Fuck this dickwad.

I know, you could say it's more complicated than that, I would like to think it were as well, but reality trumps the way I wish things would be. There's no sense in fighting it when doing so rarely helps anyone.

While this is true, this is worded in a way that’s so pretentious it’s painful and also in a way that paints this protagonist in such a white knight-y way that it makes me want to die.

As I approached my next class the image of Abbi's face illuminated the neon walls of my mind like a projector teasing a theatre screen with fleeting moments of depth & purpose.

That is complete and utter word salad. Stop immediately.

Ever since I met her, she had occupied a part of my consciousness; whenever I wasn't near her I missed her to an unrealistic extent. You could call my longing sad especially considering we had barely talked; she just had a strange effect on me, one no doubt similar to a willful addiction.

That’s called a crush, but the way that was just described is so creepy.

There are people in life which we pass by on a daily basis, barely aware of their existence, but on an exceptionally rare occasion you can find a person who fills an area inside your little world you didn't even realize needed filling.

While that’s technically not untrue, it feels like a lizard person is trying to tell me what having a crush on someone is like.

As I walked up the creaking stairs into my art class trailer I could see Abbi was sitting at her shared-desk, alone, same makeup, hairstyle & general appearance I had thought about repeatedly over the last couple days. She was drawing pictures on her blue-lined paper, distracting herself from the cold that filled the oddly glowing room.

This... This imagery is so fucking weird.

I smiled slightly trying not to be too obvious and sat down on my chilled metal chair positioned a few seats to the left in front of her. Glancing over, I could see she hadn't moved at all, I felt like she didn't even notice me come in.

You aren’t the center of her world, so yeah, she’s focused on something else. That’s just how it is, asshat.

I wanted to inspire some acknowledgment of my existence from Abbi so I opened my mouth to greet her when my fingers brushed up against freshly smeared gum under my desk. "Eeew!" I shouted out on impulse. She looked up at me with a blank expression.

I’ve accidentally touched gum on the bottom of my desk before, as I can imagine everyone has, but I’ve never shouted about it like a lunatic.

Bursting into the room came a group of boys. "Dude I think John's done bro!" one of the other boys laughed, saying "Won't see them for a week at least."

Nobody talks like this. Have you ever spoke to another human?

I looked back at Abbi to see she also didn't react to their outburst. Strangely knowing that her apathy was generalized and impersonal gave me comfort.

There needs to be a comma after ‘strangely,’ but whatever.

Her influence on how I felt was obviously dangerous but I didn't care as no matter how fond I was of the idea that I was not of the world, I knew my place and had no real interest in pretending otherwise.

Explain to me how in the hell that’s dangerous.

Jason, one of the boys energetically praising the fight they had just seen, sat in his seat next to Abbi. I smirked watching her shoulders shift away from him. Her body language sent a loud message that she had the same impression of Jason as I did. He was just another moron, placed on this Earth to live his life completely unexamined,

That word is not used properly in that sentence.

a pawn that had no awareness of its own role let alone that it was just another tiny component within a massive unstoppably twisted game.

Shut your pretentious mouth because that doesn’t make any goddamn fucking sense.

I know it sounds morbid and condescending but my attitude was just something that naturally developed the more I studied human behavior.

Bullshit.

I would be more optimistic but I find doing so would be like walking into a room with no windows and turning out the light. If you refuse to see the world around you for what it is you're just wasting your eyes.

Being optimistic means looking on the good side of things. You’ve heard the glass half empty or half full thing. it’s that. And as someone who jumps between optimism and pessimism, being optimistic isn’t like this at all.

Don’t try to be poetic or funny, Onion. Those are two things that you aren’t.

Art class was about to begin. My teacher, Mrs. Stanley, who looked like she should have retired a ridiculous thirty years ago, approached the front of the room talking about how art is sacred. She also discussed the random object she had us all draw the previous school day and ironically graded it by using her own narrow-minded definition of art.

That isn’t ironic.

I always wondered how teachers could even attempt objectively grading art. Is there any logic behind validating a form of self-expression using a cold black and white mathematical system?

It’s a class where you have to follow the curricula. Shut your damn mouth.

And this is coming from someone who hated her art teacher. But this art teacher was so utterly closed minded that she didn’t accept anyone else’s creative process. She basically told us that if we didn’t follow her process, we weren’t real artists.

"Today I'm going to place you with partners" Mrs. Stanley said as she pulled out sheets of paper outlining our activities to come. "To keep this simple, I'm going to partner you with the person you are currently assigned to share a desk with" she said. I sighed knowing I was bound to be paired up with Alex, a guy I had specifically asked to be seated away from ever since he peed in a jar literally right next to me under our desk, acting like he was so cool for publicly exposing himself while simultaneously urinating.

That... He expected to be treated like he was cool for this?

That’s fucking disgusting.

It happened weeks ago and I still can't figure out what kind of crazy it takes for you to, in the presence of people you barely know but have to see nearly on a daily basis, pee in a jar held in your hand just beneath your desk in the middle of a classroom.

At first when I read this, I thought that the wayit was worded made it sound like Alex forced James to hold the jar while he peed in it, but okay, whatever.

What then? You show it off like you will be praised and accepted as if it were an accomplishment? Alex, despite being borderline mental, was one of my least favorite people to study.

It is actually physically exhausting to read this shit. James is a pretentious asshole.

I couldn't help but feel there was some defect in his mind that invalidated the point of conducting a thorough analysis of him.

This just makes it seem like James has mind reading powers.

He was completely irrelevant when considering the realities of normal human behavior.

Behavior you don’t act according to, you lizard person sociopath.

As I was off on a tangent in my own mind I heard a familiar voice ring out, one that inspired the very same emotion you experience when a song you had forgotten you loved, randomly plays in the background of your daily life. "Can I be paired up with James?" her voice was just as I remembered.

Is this Abbi?

I have a friend who spells her name like this, so I really hate that there’s a character in this shitty book who shares a name with her.

Despite her having not spoken in class in some time, she hadn't changed a note. Abbi had interrupted the teacher just to partner with me, but I asked myself if was it really just to work with me or just to get away from Jason.

Um. Okay.

The teacher, looking irritated but understanding Abbi's discomfort with Jason responded "Alex and Jason, you'll be partners. James, switch seats with Jason" "Thank you!" Abbi said with a slight smile. With a cocky grin Jason stood up and in a comedic fashion smelled his armpit. "Wow, I didn't know I smelled that bad" Jason said as he walked over to sit by Alex.

That isn’t funny and Onion boy isn’t funny.

Approaching Abbi was no doubt a way scarier act in my mind than it was to everyone around me, I felt like my head was burning from the inside out.

That’s a little extreme.

Nevertheless I continued to remind myself that her public outcry to partner with me could have meant nothing. I sat down next to her and did all I could not to turn into a complete dork on her. She reached out and grabbed the project outline that was being passed out. Mrs. Stanley began to read the description of the assignment. "Today you will both be taking something meaningful, but expendable, from your own homes."

If something is meaningful it isn’t expendable. Stop.

Mrs. Stanley looked up and emphasized, "That you own!" then looked back down at her paper. "You will tear those items apart here in class. You will then take those items and, using the adhesives, staples and the strings available in class, find a way to create something new out of those possessions."

That’s actually kind of an interesting idea. But like. Maybe with a cup? I don’t wanna rip apart something I care about.

She looked up and said in a low voice sounding somewhat like Dracula "Two, will become one."

That is unnecessarily creepy. It reads like an innuendo.

Also, what in fresh hell does Dracula’s voice sound like?

Did she say it with a Transylvanian accent? I’m confused.

Jason raised his hand objecting, "All due respect Mrs. Stanley I'm not breaking something of mine for this class."

Jason has the right idea.

She replied putting her hands on her hips, "That's fine Jason. We'll supply you with a toilet paper rolls, we have plenty of extras around here." Jason suddenly looked disturbed and sarcastically spouted "Freaking great!"

Why???

That’s better than ripping apart a t-shirt.

Mrs. Stanley asked, "Are you sure? Your grade shouldn't suffer that much if you two just take Alex's piss jar and tape it to a toilet paper roll. You're already failing this class."

What in the literal fuck?!

You cannot say that to students. No, you can’t say that to anyone.

Jason couldn't believe what she had just said

Same.

and Alex maintained an awkward frozen facial expression with his mouth slightly open in his normal weirdo somewhat robotic fashion.

"Oh my god" Abbi whispered under her breath with a slight smirk. I grinned uncontrollably; just seeing her amused was amazing to me.

That wasn’t really funny, it was just shocking.

I could hear a scream in the back of my mind reminding me my dorkiness and borderline obsession was escaping through my face.

It's not that I couldn't help being in awe of Abbi and basically every little thing she did, I simply didn't want to change how I felt. In a way, she was like your favorite song or book, you could pretend not to like it and in time with the right mental coaching maybe you would sincerely dislike it, but life just felt so much better embracing your condition entirely, letting all your nerdy admiration flow freely.

This just reads like an obsession. I don’t have the energy to actually express how romantic feelings actually feel, but this is terrifying.

Mrs. Stanley continued, "If there's anyone else who has an issue, please take it up with my 1800 number which is?" She put her hand up to the air signaling the students to react but only a couple kids replied aloud with her catch phrase. "1-800-BOO-HOOO" they mumbled.

Sweet Jesus.

So this is what it feels like to lose my mind.

She continued, "Good, now for the rest of class please work with your partner on what you plan to bring and draw up a prototype sketch of what you feel your final piece of art will look like." Mrs. Stanley walked to the back of her room and sat down at her 1950's looking rust-infested desk.

Is this school just a giant health code violation? And what the hell do you mean by ‘1950′s desk?’ All I got when I googled that were pictures of wooden desks.

I would always laugh internally when I looked at the old thing. Maybe it was my way of coping with the fact I attended one of the most run down schools in the state.

I have nothing that isn’t full of curse words and fact checking to say here.

"What are you going to bring James?" Abbi asked.

This sentence is put so Abbi looks like she’s asking if James is going to bring himself without the comma after the word ‘bring.’ Did Onion really not edit his book at all? These are simple and fixable grammatical mistakes.

It was amazing hearing my name pass her lips but I had no time to think, if I didn't respond right away she would think I was totally awkward. "I... have no idea..." I responded. Smiling she said, "I'm going to bring my hamster cage", I asked, "Did he die or something?" she laughed, "No, I never got one, the cage was just a gift from my dad."

But you’re supposed to cut it up.

Hamster cages are made of metal.

Does Abbi just have superhuman strength? Is she going to bring a pair of bolt cutters?

"Your dad didn't get you a hamster... for the cage?" I asked.

My question exactly.

Sometimes you just...

You just gotta give your daughter a hamster cage but no hamster.

She paused and started to lose her smile.

Oh fabulous, she’s one of those characters.

At the first sign of her smile fading I felt a crushing pressure in my chest. "Hopefully you can find something that will work with that," she said. I couldn't help but feel like a total jerk despite not even knowing what I did wrong.

That interaction was so... Weird? Robotic? i don’t know. Something felt wrong about it.

I had the overwhelming urge to fix how she felt so I took a gamble, "Well, I could always bring that weird vibrating thing my mom hides in her drawers all wrapped up in a cloth" I said.

What is wrong with you?

I cannot fathom what made Onion think this joke was funny.

She busted out laughing hysterically as a huge grinned filled my face. I was so happy I could get her to smile again. "Eeew! James!" she continued to laugh as the extent of my grin began to stress my cheeks. I couldn't remember a time when I was this obvious about how I felt.

This... Something is wrong with just... all the dialogue.

And with the formatting. You make a new paragraph when someone starts talking. A 34 year old man should know this. He writes like me when I first started writing, and while this probably means he just started writing, I was 11 years old when I wrote like this.

He is a 34 year old adult. There is no excuse for how bad this formatting and how generally terribly written these interactions are.

Abbi's laughing trailed off and she paused. Turning to me she said, "You... you didn't actu- ally... your moms?"

*Pained groaning.*

I responded, "No, I wouldn't know about that, but I'm glad it made you laugh." She responded, returning to a soft laugh "You're more goofy than I thought James." I sat next to her looking at my fingers interlaced in front of me; my wide smile relaxed but still filled my cheeks with warmth.

This entire chapter, everything here, is so awkwardly written.

As class came to a close Abbi patted me on my arm. I turned and she handed me a note. Instinctively I put it in my pocket and said "See ya tomorrow", she just smiled and walked away.

????

On my way to my next class, I opened the note. I didn't understand why, but it read "NISEONE."

Not knowing what to make of it and with little time, I stuffed it back in my pocket to look over later.

Yeah, that’s cryptic as hell.

Not feeling like skating home,

Oh, we’re really getting into edgy 2000′s shit now.

I got on the bus to see all the normal rejects and misfits waiting. Davis, a short and scrawny kid who had been my best friend since middle school despite being one grade behind me excitedly waved me over.

Oh, good, more terrible characters.

"James! Nice to seeeee you!"

Oh, this bitch needs to die.

he said in seemingly the dorkiest way possible. I smiled as he stood up giving me the window seat, knowing very well by then that I preferred it.

Um. Okay.

As I sat down I began looking out the window, analyzing the little humans running left and right to get on their busses.

Buses*

And I am going to eventually kick your ass for this pretentious bullshit.

Something reached out and caught the corner of my eye. I immediately shifted my head to see what it was and quickly realized it was Abbi standing in the parking lot by some beat-up sedan.

"What'cha looking at James?" Davis asked. Without hesitation I began to respond, "Oh, it's Abbi, she's in my art..." my heart sank as I witnessed a boy I barely knew, named Seth, walk up and kiss Abbi on the lips.

Oh, boo fucking hoo. Get over the fact that she has a life outside of your crush on her.

"James?" Davis said, but by that point his voice was a faint echo in the darkness my mind instantaneously lost itself in. I felt like after a life of numbness I was finally about to truly feel warmth for the first time only to have it all taken away in an instant, leaving me hopeless in the shadows, alone once again.

Cry me a goddamn river.

You angsty pretentious idiot.

Don’t give me angsty word salad about how sad this makes you, I don’t actually care at all.

I looked down at my knees feeling as if I lost all muscle control in my neck.

That isn’t a thing that happens ever when someone is upset.

"Are... you ok?" Davis asked. I responded with hesitation "...I'm... just stupid."

You spoke to her once, you fucking dumbass.

"No you're not. You're one of the coolest guys I know!" Davis replied. I continued my silence as he offered words of encouragement. "Okie dokie, well, you're awesome and should be super happy so if you want to talk, I'm your buddy so... so I'm here to talk."

That’s uh, nice of him.

But the way he’s talking sounds like... almost mechanical? All he’s done since he was introduced has been compliment James.

I was too focused on the con- flict raging in my mind to hear anyone at that point. I couldn't think about anything but Seth kissing Abbi the entire trip home.

Oh, get the fuck over it.

That night my mom was literally just serving lentil beans she prepared on her crock-pot for the billionth time, a fair exaggeration but still, it was excessive to say the least. My sister was behaving as she usually did at the dinner table, talking about how stupid she thought school was and how she couldn't wait for college. "How was work mom?"

I mean, I’m also tired of high school. I’m really done with judge-y teenagers.

I asked trying to keep my mind off the haunting images looping in my mind.

YOU HAVE HAD ONE FUCKING CONVERSATION WITH HER. CRY ME A FUCKING RIVER, YOU BITCH.

Any normal person would express disappointment over the fact that a person they like has a boyfriend or girlfriend or partner in general, not go into a damn depression about it.

"Well, no one at work respects me or listens to me and I generally can't stand it, but you know, we still have food on the table" she said in a stern tone.

That

That is weirdly passive aggressive and mechanical.

My sister barked as food flew out of her mouth, "Well at least it's not high school. I'm learning how to be a successful person from a bunch of low-income losers."

Oh, I guess bitching runs in the family.

My mom replied "Whatever your teachers are, they have full-time jobs, which is more than a lot of people can say." My mom gave my sister Lisa a disap- pointed look. Lisa was well known for showing little respect for hard-working people. To her it didn't matter how much you gave back to society, it only mattered how much money you made.

That’s a very black and white way to look at things.

After the rerun of lentil soup I washed the dishes per my mom's orders and headed to the shower. I sat on the floor of the tub thinking about Abbi, barely feeling the water as it hit my chest.

Sat on the floor... while water hits your chest? Are you like sitting with your back arched so the water can hit your chest?

This imagery is so odd.

I was so consumed with what I had seen that I had completely forgotten the note until that moment. I quickly reached over to my pants resting on the toilette.

Why the fuck did you spell toilet like that?

That’s literally the word for ‘toilet’ but in French. It isn’t a spelling used in English. It just makes you sound even more pretentious.

Also, he reached over to the toilet to grab the note from his pants while he’s in the shower?

It’s gonna get wet, you idiot.

I had hoped I read it wrong the first time and that it would make sense with a second look only to see it read exactly what I gathered in my initial passing glance. "NISEONE"

I fucking hate you, Onion.

This literally looks like you scrambled your screen name up.

Die.

In a fire.

I mumbled to myself. I joked with the idea in my head that she handed me the wrong note but still assumed it wasn't a failed attempt to say "Nice one," which could be taken as a compliment if you were desperate enough.

That joke, while just a little funnier, is still fucking lame.

Seconds into looking at the note my eyes widened, having figured out what it meant, I jumped up slipping to my feet and screamed "YEAH!!!" I had cracked it, only to immediately after feel completely stupid for not having figured it out sooner.

I’m just done functioning.

My mom screamed through the door from her bedroom "WHAT?" I responded "Sorry! Nothing!" I hurried to finish showering.

I’d just assume he got really into jerking off.

I’ll see myself out.

Staring at my phone wearing only a towel, I smiled as I typed in "NISEONE" or "647-3663" into the number keys.

That is the most cryptic and strange way to give someone your phone number.

I assumed we shared the same area code otherwise she likely would have given me a longer sequence of letters and I was right. After two rings I got an answer. "What do you want?" a disgruntled man's voice asked.

This... This girl gave this guy a home phone number?

I guess that’s fine since this is probably set in the early 2000′s, but it’s still odd.

Like a bad engine struggling to start in a monster movie I clumsily belted out a response "I... uh... I was looking for..." An unenthusiastic female voice in the background said, "Give me the phone." "Whatever" he said dropping phone in front of her.

James can apparently see through the phone, or he wouldn’t know that probably Abbi’s dad did this.

"Hello?" I could recognize the voice now it was Abbi.

Trying to hide my excitement by maintaining a normal tone I said, "This is James." Abbi excitedly screamed

Like how girls screamed in Disney Channel shows?

That’s ridiculous.

and responded "Oh my god you figured it out!" Hearing her optimistic tone I laughed saying, "So... why..." She interrupted. "I was hoping to find out if you figured out what you're bringing to art class."

Why the hell didn’t you just fucking ask? Or give him your regular phone number? This is just unnecessarily complicated.

I said "Oh!" and looked quickly around my room. I couldn't see anything immediately so I just said, "I'll... surprise you!" She then replied "Oh come on, tell me." My eyes locked on to a plausible item for the project. "How about my... bear... I'll bring my bear!"

You’re okay with destroying a teddy bear? Okay, I guess.

I said. She replied "Oh, ok, oh! I have an idea. Instead of the cage, I'll bring in a stuffed animal of mine and we'll make like, a zombie bear."

Sounds fine.

I don’t care.

You guys are fucking boring.

I laughed "Awesome" I said. "Ok, I'll see you tomorrow ok?" she replied happily. I answered "Ok, byeee."

I would appreciate it if you would fuck off.

I can’t believe this shit is on GoodReads.

Just before she hung up I could still hear her laughing, leaving me with a sense of accomplishment and a lasting smile as if it were painted across my face.

That’s the end of chapter one?

Oh god, okay.

That was.

Terrible.

The characters are bland and flavorless and I cannot get attached to any of them. I can already tell I’m going to completely despise this.

I’ll see you next time. I need to go think about my life.

~Kat

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