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irrelevantwriter · 4 years ago

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House Call

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) x Female Reader/You

Rating: Explicit, NSFW

Warnings: Language, vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, mention of bodily fluids, reader being scared and horny, Rio’s BDE (y'all know what's up)

Word Count: 4.2K

Summary: Part 1. Rio shows up unannounced to talk business. Among other things.

A/N: It’s here...it’s happening. It took me a whole 2.5 seconds to become obsessed with Rio once I started watching GG. Ya’ll know how I roll. Anyway, this is me just dipping my toe into the water. I didn't get too deep with a plot (spoiler alert: there isn't any). It’s essentially just reader-insert into the show’s current plot, but with some smut thrown in. For fun. I hope you guys like it. Feedback is that good shit. 💗

*Added a Part 2! Read it here.

*Give and Take series masterlist

*Masterlist in bio.

***********************

“You okay?”

The sound of your friend’s concerned voice filled the line, pulling you back to the moment and the conversation you’d been engaged in before you’d burnt yourself in the spray of hot water.

“Yeah, just washing dishes.” You explained, cradling your cell between your shoulder and cheek as you maneuvered dirty dishes under the spout of water.

“So the meeting with the principal? How’d it go?” Rachel asked, getting you back on track.

You sighed, beginning to scrub at a stubborn coffee stain left behind on one of your favorite mugs.

“Fine. The kids are still having a hard time with the divorce so it’s…” You paused, unsure of how to describe the child-like brooding your son and daughter had taken to participating in since you’d separated from their father.

“Tense? Difficult? Weird?” Rachel listed off helpfully.

“All of the above.” You deadpanned, still scrubbing.

“You take the rest of the day off?”

“Yeah, I’ve gotta figure out what I’m going to do with these kids. Paul said he’d come over later to talk it over.”

“How incredibly thoughtful of him.” Rachel replied, sarcasm and disdain dripping from her words.

“Well, it’s a start. And as much as I’d like to tell him to fuck off, I can’t. He’s still their dad.” You explained for the hundredth time, feeling the stress of your situation with your ex starting to creep into your body. Your shoulders felt stiff and your head began to throb with a dull ache. It was a familiar reaction these days. One you loathed.

You opened your mouth to steer the conversation elsewhere when the doorbell rang, chiming throughout the empty expanse of your home.

“Paul?” Rachel asked, obviously hearing the alert of someone’s company over the phone.

“I guess. Look, I’ll call you later.” You said with another sigh, this one more tired than annoyed. You gave up on the stained mug and moved onto drying it, shutting the water off as you did.

“Okay. Good luck.”

“Thanks.” You ended the call, aware that you were short with her, but unable to feel sorry for it. You had plenty of other things to worry about, none of which involved your shitty ex or his new girlfriend.

You placed your cell on the counter and turned to make your way to the entryway, mug still clutched in your hand. The ceramic cup dropped to the floor and shattered into pieces when you saw who was already in your kitchen. You gasped, clutching your chest and yelping at the familiar man in black, the dark ink splattered across his throat the first thing you noticed. Your heart leapt, your body going rigid at the unexpected visit. Pop-ups like this were never a good sign.

“I let myself in.” Rio supplied, voice low and thick with authority and charm. He wore a smirk, lips upturned at your surprised reaction. He always seemed amused by you. That fact only served to unsettle you further.

“What’re you doing here?” You managed to say between shaky breaths, fear making your own voice quiver.

“Just checking in, mama. Can’t I do that?” He challenged with his arms spread wide, daring you to say otherwise.

You didn’t.

You went to move around the large kitchen island but the shards of broken mug prevented you from getting far on bare feet. Rio took notice and strode towards you, all clean lines and hooded eyes. He had a swagger about him that radiated. It sent a clear message about the kind of man he was. Confident. Skilled. Smart. There was an ease in his movements, but a beast lay in wait inside, ready to strike when the need arose.

His piercing gaze took in your dress, uncaring of being discreet or polite. He appraised you from the tips of your painted toes to the top of your head. It was as unnerving as it was thrilling. He crowded your space. He always did. While the scent of him filled your nostrils. Something spicy, but pleasing. It sat in your nose, and you knew from previous experience that you’d smell it for hours after.

You swallowed, wanting to avoid his close proximity. You hastily bent down to gather what you could of the jagged pieces, moving around his sneaker-clad feet that stood before you. You tried to ignore his presence, tried to appear calm and composed. It was an uphill battle. The man always knew how to throw you off. He knew how to keep people on their toes. It was yet another facet of him that you both coveted and despised.

You hissed, feeling the edge of one of the shards dig into the tip of your finger. You stood and sucked the tip into your mouth, trying to clear the area of the blood that had started to surface. His eyes were on you, watching you with interest and a certain level of lust that you didn’t allow yourself to explore. You stiffened when he reached for your wrist and pulled your finger away from your lips. He inspected the cut, his flesh warm and soft against yours. It was a side of him that eclipsed the man you’d come to know over the last several months.

“It’s not bad. I’ll be fine.” You whispered, attempting to pull your hand free of his. It was futile.

“Band aid?”

“Uh...yeah. In that drawer. Next to the stove.” You pointed in the direction of the drawer, holding your breath as he retrieved the item. This time, you watched him. Watched as he unwrapped the bandage and tended to your finger with all the care of a parent with their child. He held the appendage steady as he got ready to wrap it, but he stopped himself. He locked eyes with you instead, making you shiver.

“I make you nervous.”

It was a statement. A very true statement. And yet you found yourself shaking your head; ironic because your voice felt too unsteady to use.

Your heart stopped when he placed a tender kiss to the cut. The air around you crackled with heat and tension. It was unlike any feeling you’d ever been subjected to before. It was danger mixed with primal fascination...attraction. And it called to you like a raft in a sea of treacherous waves.

He ignored your silent response and sealed the band aid over your finger, ensuring the ends were smooth against your skin. He didn’t let go of you.

“Don’t lie to me, okay? Trust is an important thing. And we’ve gotta have it if we wanna keep doing business together.”

His calm demeanor and gentle chastising made you a puddle of obedience. Your need to please wasn’t just born from fear. It was something you’d been unable to come to terms with until now. You saw it for what it truly was. You wanted to please him. In as many ways as he’d let you.

You nodded in response, agreeing to his statement.

“Let’s try it again then, yeah?” He started, eyes roaming your face. “I make you nervous, don’t I?”

“The constant threat of my life makes it difficult for me to be calm.” You said, choosing to still be untruthful.

You forced yourself not to fidget as his stare scorched your skin. His black eyes roamed across the open expanse of your collarbone and to the modest neckline of your wrap dress. He licked his lips as he focused on the measured breaths of your chest, your breasts rising with each pass.

“That’s not the only reason.” He retorted with a shake of his head. He leaned in close, noses almost touching as he spoke. “Don’t move.”

You said nothing as he bent down, continuing your failed task of picking up the broken bits of ceramic. You observed him dutifully gathering each piece, piling them into one large hand. His face looked pensive, as if he was trying to solve an equation in his head. You leaned against the island for support and bit your lip, unwilling to give into the lecherous thoughts that haunted you at night and managed to infiltrate your dreams.

“Nice dress.”

His compliment made you pause, looking down to meet that familiar smirk. He’d set what was left of the mug onto the counter, the floor relatively clear of large fragments. His fingers now played with the hem of said dress, the flowy material dancing in the air and away from your body.

“Thanks.”

Your voice was small. The apprehension so clear that you could both taste it. He found it funny. You found it humiliating.

He slowly straightened, taking the fabric with him as he gathered it to just above your knees.

“Color looks good on you.”

Again, the juvenile warmth of his praise sent you reeling further into anxiety’s waiting arms. Inwardly, you were responding to every lick of his lips and quirk of his eyebrow. Your thighs shifted restlessly against each other, waiting for that satiation that you hadn’t felt in forever. Outwardly though, you remained as skittish as a wild horse. You were as much on the edge of pleasure as you were on retreating.

“Thanks.” You said with a pleasant smile, wanting to conceal the yearning that bubbled just under the surface. You smoothed out the hunter-green fabric that rested against your abdomen, hoping to urge his hands away from you and the dress.

No such luck.

Instead, he ran his fingers up your skirt and along the outside of your thighs and hips, almost meeting the edge of your lace panties. Your traitorous body showed its hand, your nipples hardening in eagerness. Rio’s gaze predictably caught the action. And his face showed his approval.

“How long you been divorced?”

You furrowed your brows in confusion at his sudden curiosity. But the switch in topic had you alert again and somewhat clear of the fog he was so insistent on throwing you into.

“Why? What does that have to do with anything?” You questioned, stepping back from his body.

His hands fell away from you finally, but they didn’t stay idle for long. They skimmed over your hips, pressing your backside into the edge of the kitchen island.

“Answer me, mama.” He demanded, head craning down to meet your eyes. The intensity of his stare made you shift on your feet. He had an amazing poker face. A skill that left you envious.

“Two years.” You dutifully supplied, leaning backwards every inch that he moved in.

“It’s been that long then.” He commented with a nod, a finger tracing along the neckline of your dress, hovering just above your cleavage.

“That long for what?” You asked, taking note of the subtle ways in which his face changed. There was no trace of the teasing, light-hearted flirting that you’d become accustomed to seeing from him. He was serious. Almost as serious as the times he’d threatened your life. His touch was more insistent, telling you what he wanted rather than hinting. His mouth lowered to your ear, his nose brushing against your neck in a far too erotic manner. Your fingers itched to anchor yourself to him. You denied the request.

“Since someone stretched you out.”

A gasp caught in your throat, though you didn’t know if it was more from his words or his touch. He’d managed to slip a hand under your dress, tracing the crotch of your panties with a dexterous finger as he spoke.

“Wh-what do you mean?” You stammered, knuckles tightening against the edge of the counter you were currently gripping.

“I mean…” Rio started, lips brushing against the shell of your ear with each syllable. His finger barely teased your slit, but his voice more than compensated for the lack of physicality. “You haven’t had someone here,” He emphasized the word with a firm press of his finger against the soaked material that hid your clit from view. “In two years. Maybe more.”

You whimpered, biting your lip as he continued to manipulate your body. Your head screamed at you to stop, to pull away. But the sensation of his body pressed so firmly to yours was far too comforting to deny.

“You don’t know that.” You attempted, though the effort was obviously pointless. It was true. Since your separation and subsequent divorce from Paul, you’d barely been on a date, much less had sex. Your body was fiending for it...for him. And he knew it.

He scoffed, finding amusement in your words. He pressed his finger along the same dampened area, seeing your eyes roll into the back of your head. He licked his lips when your hand shot out to grasp at his wrist.

“Yeah, I do.” He affirmed with a nod, finger still teasing over your lace-covered slit. “He stepped out on you, didn’t he?” He continued, his eyes taking stock of the way you responded to his touch.

You had trouble focusing on the conversation he insisted on having while his hand was up your dress and practically in your underwear. You didn’t feel the need to supply an answer anyway. He already had all the information he needed.

“He didn’t deserve you.”

You were jolted back to reality by his words, straightening your spine and pushing his hand from between your legs.

“And what? You do?” You threw back, agitation seeping into your tone. You felt like he was patronizing you. He was always one step ahead. Always aware of the skeletons in your closet before you were.

“Never said that.” He said with a shake of his head, not stepping out of your space. His hands were off your body now, but the stains they’d left on you would remain there. They wouldn’t easily be erased. And you weren’t entirely sure that you wanted them to be.

“Why are you here?” You asked, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

“Business.”

“A simple call or text works for that.”

“Wanted to come in person.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders. He wore an expression of smugness, as if he knew something you didn’t, which was often the case.

“What do you want then?”

“Why don’t you tell me?” He retorted swiftly, lips pulled into a thin line.

The seriousness was back, his eyes nearly swallowing you as all humor became sucked from the room. The nerves in your stomach came back full force, the fear aiding them in their efforts. He was challenging you, apparently done with your lying.

“I…”

You didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know how to even begin. He was too intimidating. Just too much.

“I-I can’t.” You finished lamely, shaking your head and looking down at your feet.

He tilted your chin up, his mouth only centimeters from yours as he dared you to move.

“Just say the word.” He rasped against your lips, his free hand cradling your cheek.

You let yourself stare back, taking in his dark lashes and the angles of his face. He confused you on many levels, angered you beyond belief. He made your life a living hell. And yet, you wanted him more than anything. More than the money and the thrill of crime. And somehow he was privy to it all. And he wanted to give it to you.

So you were going to let him.

“Kiss me.” You breathed out, your hands finally coming to rest on his chest.

He needed no further encouragement. His mouth settled over yours in a tangle of lips and tongues. He tasted like mint, his lips much softer than they looked. The scratch of his facial hair only added to the moment as you pressed further into him, asking him to take more.

He did.

His hands were rough, but not unpleasant as they trailed along your body. They had the marks of healed scars. Not to mention the blood of those who chose to cross him. They were everywhere and all at once. Your breasts, your neck, your waist, your ass. He kneaded where he knew you yearned for more and tenderly stroked the areas in between. You struggled to keep up as his hips pushed into yours, his own yearning making its presence known.

“We shouldn’t do this.” You managed to say between heavy breaths, Rio’s mouth attaching to your neck and sucking near your throbbing pulse.

“Why not?” He mumbled into your skin, hands unwilling to slow down.

“Things will get complicated.”

He pulled himself away from the crook of your neck, his thumb running over your kiss-swollen pout.

“Yeah, they will.” He said with a chuckle, that devilish smirk staring back at you.

It was all a blur after that.

Limbs intertwined together as you worked on the buckle of his pants while he pushed your dress up and over your hips this time. He harshly pulled the lace away, the elastic snapping against your thighs as it got caught before making its way to the floor. Your mouths didn’t separate, not even when he lifted you onto the counter. He pulled one side of your dress away, exposing the matching bra you wore underneath. Your pebbled nipples called to him and he responded, massaging the flesh with expert precision. You moaned and writhed like a woman possessed. Like a woman that hadn’t been laid in two years.

“Feels good?”

The roughened gravel of his voice made your walls spasm, the hint of self-assuredness causing a wave of arousal to seep from within you. You could only nod, wordlessly pleading with him to continue on. His touch ventured south to your spread thighs. You widened them, allowing him access to the place you needed him the most. He didn’t disappoint.

His fingers were long and probing as they penetrated your sex, slipping easily in. You gasped at the fullness, the stretch around him making your eyes squeeze shut. He let your body guide him as he rubbed at your clit, his fingers curling against your walls.

“I’m...god...I’m gonna cum.” You confessed, only somewhat embarrassed by the suddenness of your climax.

He worked hard and faster. Your nails dug into his back, your mouth landing on his shoulder as you struggled to not cry out. You bit down when the euphoria of orgasm washed over you, trapping his hand within you. He could feel every tremor he brought forth as you shook in his arms. It felt like it lasted for hours, your body unwilling to let the feeling be a fleeting moment in time.

“You still with me?” He asked, lips pressed to your temple.

You nodded, hissing when he removed his fingers from the confines of your body. You watched, feeling as if you were in a daze. He shifted his pants and boxers down, revealing his length to your ravenous eyes. The hand that had been so deeply embedded in you now wrapped around himself. He was long and hard, as rigid as his hands. You felt like a moth to a flame, hand reaching out to feel if he was real. He was.

You swiped your finger over the tip of him and were overcome with wanton pride at feeling the moisture that sat there. His jaw clenched in a way that you’d only ever seen him do in anger. He didn’t allow you to continue. In an instant he was wedged between your thighs, his body already pushing into your waiting sex. Even with the climax from his fingers, he was a tight fit. You both expelled breaths, his a mumbled curse and yours a throaty moan. You shut your eyes as a new burst of pleasure radiated from your core and traveled up your spine. There was only a brief moment of intimacy as he sat unmoving within you, letting your body adjust to him.

It was short-lived.

“Fuck...” He cursed as he began to fuck you into the counter, hands holding your hips in place.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he lavished yours with kisses and bites, each thrust of his hips causing his teeth to graze your skin. The chill of the marble countertop beneath your bare ass cooled your overheated skin. You bit your lip so hard you could taste blood as he filled you over and over, each pass making your walls accept more of him. He was deep and hitting that gloriously elusive spot that sat within your womb.

He cupped your breasts while you scraped your nails down his back, hearing him growl in response. The sound made you yearn to hear more. So, you did something you’d always wanted to do...you licked the ink on his throat. You decorated his skin with tantalizing kisses, your tongue aiding your actions. He shivered against your lips, the reaction making your walls clench around him. He was, at least for the moment, a slave to your ministrations. And it was a high unlike any drug you’d ever encountered.

It was animalistic fucking at its finest. He hit every nerve, soothed every ache. The union of your bodies was enough to send you sailing off the proverbial cliff, but his touch kept you tethered to solid ground, longing for more. He rocked his hips mercilessly into you, making your back arch at an almost painful angle.

“Right there, huh?” He teased, feeling you squeeze around him in raw desire. “Yeah, that’s the spot.”

You whimpered and tensed when he savagely rubbed your swollen clit, forcing your legs to tighten around him. He laughed, the sound ominous in your ringing ears. You could only hold on as he delivered the sweetest torture you’d ever felt. You spread your thighs wider, trying to get him closer than humanly possible. You opened your neck up to him, letting him have access to your bare flesh. You wanted him all over you and leaving a scorching trail of hunger in his wake.

It was manic. It was frenzied. It was passionate. And it all combined into a seductive elixir that made fireworks burst from within.

“Shit...I’m cumming.” You warned, feeling him double his efforts. Every muscle went taut with blinding pleasure as that coil finally snapped. You felt weightless, and yet the firm body still driving into your depths made you feel sublimely solid. And whole. More whole than you’d felt in the entirety of your marriage.

It was on the tail-end of your climax that Rio found his. His hips stuttered as he grunted and groaned, releasing himself into you and painting your walls. His fingers dug into the flesh of your inner thighs while his face burrowed into your chest and neck. It was as uninhibited as you’d seen him. And you were addicted to the sight.

You both heaved with shallow breaths, the exertion of each of your climaxes literally taking the air from your lungs. The room smelled of sex and instant regret as you straightened in Rio’s arms. He separated from your body, eyeing you as he redressed. You shifted your dress back together to cover your bra, the mess between your thighs preventing you from closing them completely.

Before you could say anything, Rio reached up and cradled your cheek. He played with your bottom lip, his thumb once again finding the appendage. His eyes took in every part of you, as if he hadn’t fucked you senseless seconds before. He licked his lips in that dangerous way that let you know his thoughts were on more than just money.

“Business is good?” He asked, warm palm still pressed to your cheek.

“Yeah, it is.”

“Cool, cool.” He nonchalantly replied, hand leaving your face as he stepped back from your debauched body. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You said with a nod, pushing your dress further down over your thighs, a lame effort to protect any modesty you might’ve still possessed. He smirked at the action.

“Might wanna clean up the mess.” He said with a cheeky upturn of his lips, hands gesturing to the remaining fragments of ceramic that still littered the floor but eyes locked solely to the spot between your legs. The place he knew he’d left a part of himself.

You bit your lip and nervously played with the hem of your dress, feeling his eyes bore into you. Despite still being fully dressed, you felt naked to him. Bare. Exposed. Vulnerable. You hated it.

He retreated, facing you as he walked backwards towards the front door. You watched him from over your shoulder, still unsure of what to make of the whole situation.

“And lock your door from now on. All kinds of madmen running around these streets.” He quipped, eyes lighting up at his own joke.

He was gone as fast as he’d arrived, causing havoc and then leaving without a second thought. The door closed with a crisp click at his exit, the house now feeling bare without his foreboding presence.

You didn’t move from your spot. You remained on the counter, Rio still leaking from your walls and your dress still disheveled despite your best efforts. Your mind raced with thoughts, each one riddled with panic. His unexpected visit left you with more questions than answers, all of which were tinged with fear. What did this development mean for you? Did it actually mean anything? Or was he simply taking what was so obviously laid out in front of him?

Did it matter?

No. It didn’t.

Because although he may have indulged your craving, your appetite was far from being fulfilled.

#rio good girls #rio #good girls rio #good girls nbc #nbc good girls #rio x reader #rio x you #rio imagine #rio fanfiction #rio fanfic

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get-shiggy-with-it · 4 years ago

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Book Drop Boy (Twice x Reader)

✧ pairing: library student worker!Twice x afab!student!Reader

✧ word count: 9.9k

✧ ao3 mirror

✧ warnings: college au/no quirks, maladaptive daydreaming (twice), twice is chaotic af, commits library related crimes, use of the term sweetheart a few times, smut, vaginal fingering/sex, doggy style, afab terms, no pronouns for reader, gratuitous swearing this is potentially the softest thing I've ever written, like she's pretty tame idk what Twice does to me

✧ summary: In which Twice learns that sometimes dreams do come true, except those dreams are just the maladaptive fantasies of a broke library receptionist and, while sexy, also involve more fraud than he expected.

✧ a/n: Hey y'all, this is set in the same universe as my shiggy college piece, but you don't need to have read that. There are some fun little easter eggs though if you have tho. This is like the most tame thing I've ever written and it's way longer than it was meant to be but oh well. Anyway, Twice deserves some love. Enjoy <3

Logically, Jin was aware you probably had no idea who the fuck he was.

But that really didn’t have any effect on the wildly intricate fantasy life he had created for the two of you during his long shifts behind the library reception desk. That, in fact, was the only reason he hadn’t up and quit just to save himself the embarrassment of another loud outburst in the middle of the most silent place on campus.

What was truly more shocking was the fact that none of those said outburst had gotten his ass kicked straight out the door.

But he held out.

If only for you.

Late nights or lazy afternoons you were always in the campus library—studying he assumed or…

'Studying,' because a lot of the time he noticed you’d show up with a drink from the cafe a few blocks down, set out a line of colored pens and not touch a single one of them for hours, content to stare blankly at the chipped desktop. And even that Jin was more than happy to watch.

He did a lot of watching.

Mostly because he wasn’t permitted to leave the desk unattended unless there were piling up returned books which needed to be replaced quickly.

So instead, he pretended to be busy scrolling through something on his old as hell monitor—which was conveniently set up directly across from the comfy chair/desk combo you always managed to grab—and he indulged in day dreams where you’d bring him a coffee from the cafe when you came in and set it on his desk, maybe kiss him on the cheek, maybe loiter by his workstation and play with his hair and—

Yeah.

It was a lot.

But you were always in that chair, always working or pretending to work and you never seemed to notice the uninterrupted hours of staring Jin did, so what was the harm?

If you never knew, you’d never get creeped out—cause it was creepy, he knew that, oh fuckin' boy did he know it was real goddamn weird.

He just couldn’t seem to give it up. Especially when the conditions presented perfectly for some good uninterrupted, totally not stalker-y at all, fantasizing.

Sometimes he thought you might have some mundane superpower that let you always snatch that perfect seat right across from his computer, and made it so the library was just cool enough that he’d get to watch you shrug on that cute extra sweatshirt you always brought. So he could catch a glimpse of some skin—in a totally normal and not invasive way—when your arms went over your head. So he could imagine it was his ratty old sweaters you were wearing just so you could smell him on you and god he really wanted to get close enough to smell you—was that too weird? No. Yes? No.

Not at all.

But the best part, the part that really convinced him on those awful days when he really just could not be bothered to drag himself out of bed and walk the couple blocks to campus just to sit in awful silence alone, in his head alone with the fucking thoughts that made him want to rip his hair out—

What made it worth it was those times every few weeks when your classes would get new assigned readings. Because then you’d have to check out new textbooks, since you were one of those geniuses that had figured out the library kept a ton of those books in stock. Of course you were, cause you were fucking perfect.

And when you had to check out new books, you had to come to reception.

Jin got to watch as your lovely figure moved through the stacks like you were ballroom dancing along the halls of faded, sea-green shelves, almost floating over the linoleum trying to find just the right volume in the right addition before anyone else beat you to it.

It was one of the most gorgeous things he’d ever seen.

Spinner would call him a fucking simp if he ever dared to uttered any of that out loud, but it didn’t matter.

If it was you, he’d simp for fucking life.

And then, you’d walk that fucking glorious ass over to his desk and plop the books down, smiling—cause you were polite like that, so fucking perfect he couldn’t hardly believe it sometimes—and asking how his day was while he checked you out in every sense of the phrase.

In a completely platonic and not freaky way.

So Jin kept coming to work, to that god awful job he really hated and which hated him just as vehemently. He clocked in every day and waited patiently like a fucking puppy counting the hours till its workaholic owner arrived home, ears perking up when you walked through the door and flashed your ID to the attendant.

If only for that.

He’d put up with his boss’ complaints and the weird stares he got when the thoughts just wouldn’t stay in his head anymore and he had to start talking to himself to fill the silence.

If only for that.

Those few hours when he could lose himself in the fake inner life where you were waiting for him when his shift let out, waiting to gather him, tired and understimulated, into your arms. Where you’d sneak into the back room with him just to chat and lace your fingers with his and maybe sit that fucking wonderful ass up on the tables so he could stand in between your thighs and you’d pull him down to—

Yeah.

That was enough.

***

It wasn’t until Tuesday when he had to come in again that week, and he already knew it was gonna suck balls.

Friday he’d gotten another round of complaints from some stuck up fucking business students—it was always the fucking business majors with those silver spoons so far up their asses—snitching to his boss that he’s been ‘disruptive’ and ‘disturbing’ during his last shift.

“Not my fucking fault,” he muttered under his breath, kicking a rock along the side walk he’d picked up two blocks before. “Yes it is. No it’s not!”

Jin groaned and tugged at his hair, wishing he’d brought a Tylenol or something to curb the headache that was already sticking it’s ugly ass claws into his temples. He really, really heavily contemplated just ditching, calling in sick or some shit. Technically he was a student worker, so they had to work with his DRS accommodation and he was actually having a bad fucking time.

But one of his friends had already texted to ask if he’d try and reserve them that sweet ass study room on the third floor and Jin wasn’t really looking to disappoint anyone else this week. Besides, it was fun to abuse his minuscule power. Fun to go corrupt for once. Fight the system and all that.

He liked to think you’d be proud of him for it, based on the kinds of texts you checked out at least.

So, he dragged his sad ass back to the looming library looking far too much like a prison than was necessary and clocked in. Actually, the first thing he did was check the chair—your chair and nobody else’s chair, he might actually make a fucking scene if somebody ever did steal it—and his face visibly fell when you were not occupying it.

It was a bit early, Jin supposed as he paused briefly when he noticed the can of Monster and rando vending machine chips sitting next to it by the reception computer. The sticky note slapped to the top read 'For your troubles' in familiar handwriting and that pulled a bit of a smile from him as he quickly rearranged the scheduling of study room sign ups so the fancy third floor room would be free for the rest of the night.

Then Jin sat, staring at the study room schedules for a moment, feeling his eyes softly glaze over until a hand slapped down on the raised lip of the reception desk.

“Hey bro,” Spinner greeted him with a wild smile and a flurry of bright pink hair.

Jin had to blink a few extra times to get his vision to clear. When it did he saw, horrifyingly, that he’d been staring at the fucking blank screen for two hours without moving.

Why was it that his head was either deadly quiet, devoid of even a single errant thought or so loud as fucking shit at all times that he couldn’t physically keep the thoughts in?

“Hey, dude, what’s up?” Jin asked, running a hand through his unruly hair.

“Aren’t you supposed to like shush me or something?”

Spinner chuckled a bit at his own god awful joke and Jin couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed, too glad for the company.

“I mean,” he shrugged, popping the can of Monster and ignoring the dirty looks he got for the sound. “I would if I was, uh, good at my job.”

“Which I’ve heard you definitely are not,” Spinner wrapped his fingers over the lip of the desk and leaned back on his heels, swaying side to side idly.

“You’re just figuring that out now?”

Jin didn’t bother watching while Spinner nearly tripped over himself fidgeting as he spun to stand at the little gate that corralled Jin inside like livestock. He was too busy glancing over to check you hadn’t slipped in while his brain had taken a trip to the astral plane without him.

“No, I been knew, but my sources tell me you’ve gone off the rails my friend,” long legs stepped over the wooden partition until the only friend he had who was quite possibly more annoying than Jin himself was sat on the counter next to his computer. “Finally been radicalized have you?”

Jin huffed and sipped his Monster, “Guess it fuckin’ took me long enough.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Spinner was messing about with the stacks of multicolored sticky notes littered across the desk before glancing up to wink at Jin. “So what can I get you to do for me in exchange for free food?”

“Now I really am gonna fucking shush you,” Jin smashed his finger against Spinners grin only to get a hand covered in spit for his trouble.

“Right, right,” Spinner held his hands up in defeat, “can’t have you cheating on your sweetheart.”

“Not my—yes I’m in a committed fictional relationship thank you very much—ugh!”

Jin could feel the heads shooting up from laptop screens and textbooks to stick daggers in his back with their angry stares. Spinner at least had the good sense to look a little fucking guilty for egging him on.

“Sorry bro, I had to shoot my shot ya know?” a hand disappeared into the mop of bubblegum locks in apology.

“It’s fine…” Jin trailed off, mumbling and blushing more than a little profusely as he turned to check the book drop box. “Not like I’m ever gonna fuckin’ shoot mine anyway.”

“Oh we are not gonna have that kinda of shit discussion,” Spinner’s hand shot out and grabbed him firmly by the shoulders, spinning Jin in his chair. “On god bro, we’re gonna get you a date one of these days.”

Jin didn’t dignify that kind of lie with a response.

Spinner once again, had the good sense to not push the envelope any farther.

“And in the meantime, you can come to the League meeting tonight!”

“Your gaming club thing?”

“Yeah, it’s Smash night and we need to fill a space sooooo…”

Jin knew Spinner and his roommate—the same friend who he’d gone study room rogue for—had started a gaming club their freshman year. Spinner had been trying to strong arm him into attending ever since. To, as he put it, ‘socialize,’ and ‘make new friends.’ All things which Jin was patently horrible at and avoided like the plague.

Needless to say, he’d refused every time.

It wasn’t just the whole being alone with like two people he kinda knew in a room full of strangers. Games themselves were just a lot for him. The flashing colors and the loud noises made his head—which was already so fucking full all the time and he really needed to keep any extra scrap of space for extra random facts he picked up about you and your future married life together—get a bit misaligned.

They just weren’t his jam most of the time.

“I’m good, thanks for the offer though,” Jin twisted out of Spinner’s grasp and craned his head to check your seat again.

Still empty.

He sighed.

Spinner continued to ramble and Jin continued to only half listen. It wasn’t as pleasant to day dream when you weren’t there for the added visual aesthetic. And he was trying to not be a dick and ignore the one friend he had managed to keep around over the years. But it was hard when his mind had a mind of its own.

Wow.

Meta.

“Jin?”

The voice—deep and dark in such a dramatically ominous way it might have been funny if it didn’t belong to his permanently disgruntled supervisor—interrupted his already derailing train of thought.

“Oh, uh, hello sir,” Jin stuttered, turning to find Kurogiri leaning against the reception desk with one arm, turning only slightly to accommodate Spinner’s form bolting over the gate and out the library doors.

He did manage to throw a fading, “See ya later, bro” over his shoulder before he disappeared around the corner.

Yeah thanks for the warning, bro.

“Aren’t you supposed to be reshelving the books from the drop box?” Kurogiri sighed, perpetually disappointed in a way that had Jin’s face burning and shame bubbling up in his throat.

He hated this job. He was objectively terrible at it, and so usually he wouldn’t give that much of a shit at not doing it well. Kurogiri just had some type of vibe—like daddy but not in the sexy way Spinner always joked about—that made it really, really upsetting to let him down.

Father figure? Yeah that's what it was called.

“Right, yeah um, sorry,” Jin nodded quickly and leapt from his chair, only mildly bruising his knee on the desk as he reached to empty the book drop.

Another incorporeal sigh was the only acknowledgement he received as he loaded the cart with wheels louder than Jin on a particularly bad day and rolled the pile of books back to the stacks. He paused once more, just before the sea green shelving units swallowed him up, to sneak another futile peak at your chair. But it still sat empty—empty and lonely with no you and cold without your body pressed against the worn upholstery.

Jin felt a chill too, a slow tingling thing that worked its way up from the base of his spine. It drove him deeper into the walls of books, away from the empty spaces.

It was harder to look.

Harder to be reminded of what he did not have.

Of what he’d never have cause he was too much of a goddamn pussy to ever just fucking talk to you—

But then what if he did? What if he did talk to you? What would happen then?

Those were the types of questions he tried to avoid when crafting your intricate, fictional lives together. Precisely because they were the easiest to answer.

You’d realize within the first five minutes or so of conversation—if Jin could even make it that far without embarrassing himself—that he was just a generic brand weirdo that all your pretty, normal, aesthetically pleasing friends would warn you to stay away from and because you were also pretty and normal and not a fucking idiot, you’d have the common sense to listen.

He’d lose you in the blink of an eye.

Your chair would sit cold and empty forever and the imaginary garden he’d been planting for you to come imaginarily home too would wilt and die like all the other happy thoughts in his head.

It was quite the conundrum and one Jin was not keen to solve soon.

Not that things ever really went his way. Cause problems could only be avoided for so long before all that time spent ignoring them came back to bite him full on the ass.

Which, apparently, came this time in the form of what had to be quiet, muffled sobbing drifting in between the shelves from the back hallway.

It was dark here in this section of the building—free of most windows so as not to cause any sunning damage to the books—and Jin had seen more than enough horror movies to know that it was a horrendous idea to follow the ominous crying sounds coming from the bowls of this old as fuck building. But even as he made up his mind to ignore it, the hand currently working one of the returns back into its proper place dropped the book to his cart as his feet slowly turned to face the corridor.

He looked around skeptically for a second, not entirely certain his poor brain hadn’t simply malfunctioned again, as it was wont to do, and fabricated the sound entirely. But as he peaked out from between the stacks, and down the dimly lit hall, he heard it again.

Echoey and soft in the wide, empty space it—was definitely coming from the hall and it was definitely a person.

Jin caught himself moving without ever meaning too, the books laying forgotten as he crept towards the source of the noise and paused just before leaving the stacks entirely. This hall was full of small alcoves built into the centuries old walls and led to the lesser used storage portions of the library that only the janitorial staff and the university librarians ever entered. He really didn’t want to stumble across someone from the special collections department bawling over a damaged or lost manuscript.

But his wayward feet pushed him forward, too sympathetic for his own good. He found himself shuffling down the abandoned hall, peering into each small dip in the walls to find the source of his distraction.

And when he did, Jin was—for once in his life—thankful for his lack of self-preservation instincts.

And cursed his blatant lack in interpersonal skills.

Because it was you.

You curled with your knees to your chest and your head in your hands, shoulders shaking, as you cried into your palms.

The universe had handed him maybe the only golden opportunity he would ever get on right on a platter.

But Jin didn’t have a fucking clue what do with it.

And there certainly wasn’t much time to formulate a game plan as his nervous breathing and sudden intake of breath upon discovering his imaginary lover sniffling right in front of him, had certainly alerted you to his presence.

Your head shot up in an instant, knocking dully against the stone wall with a thud.

“Shit,” you cursed and hands flying up to cover the area as Jin jumped on the spot at your outburst.

“Are you okay?” he asked lamely as you glanced over at him, eyes red and wet and so fucking sad oh fucking god, widening as you realized you’d been caught.

“Huh? Ye—oh uh, yes,” your words came out jumbled, legs unfolding quickly to push yourself off the bench and hands wiping furiously at your eyes. “I’m fine, sorry.”

“You sure about that?”

Jin cringed visibly and frowned at the way you deflated under his stare. God the first fucking time he actually talks to you and he already made an ass of himself.

Spinner’s roommate was such a liar, it really fucking sucked to be right sometimes.

“I mean,” you crumpled back down onto the ledge and Jin took a careful step closer, “no, but yes. Like I’m definitely having a breakdown in the back of the fucking library but I don’t wanna, uh, bother you with that. So, yeah I’m good.”

“You can bother me,” he replied way too fucking quickly.

But he couldn’t really be embarrassed about it. Your voice was just so captivating, and you weren’t talking to him in that raised pitch anymore like you usually did—the way everyone does when they’re trying to be surface level and polite. No this was your voice how you sounded when you were relaxing with your friends or making breakfast in the morning or talking to yourself in the shower (he liked to think you did that, or sang maybe as you worked the soap into your skin, one of the two but he always imagined you filled silences with how fucking pretty you were).

“No, really. That would be weird, right?”

Jin grimaced as you fixed him with a watery yet suspicious stare.

Yeah it was weird.

Everything he did concerning you was weird, objectively. He was definitely being over-familiar and too eager, especially considering you didn’t fucking know him.

But he knew you.

Jin felt like he’d known you for all months he’d spent pretending to be by your side.

And you were crying and he had to do something.

“I mean, yeah I guess,” he mumbled, taking a risk and plopped down on the opposite end of the alcove and resting his head on the wall. “But not any weirder than having a breakdown in the employees only section of the library building on a Tuesday.”

You kept staring blankly for a few moments before the most miraculous thing happened.

Jin had to physically stop his jaw from hitting the floor when the quiet giggle bubbled up from your chest and spilled out into the hall, warm enough to melt even the freezing linoleum floor.

“Yeah, you’ve got a point,” your voice cracked a bit as a few more tears slid like pearls down your cheeks.

“My name’s Jin,” he said, shocked stupid both by your laugh and the apparent success of his comforting methods.

“Oh, hi, well I guess I don’t have to call you book drop boy anymore,” you rubbed at your face again and tucked your legs back into your chest, though it looked a bit more relaxed this time.

Not so trying-desperately-to-fade-out-of-existence.

“You called me that?” Jin asked, brain still functioning at half capacity, only shocked at the fact that he existed as a concept in your head enough to have a name and realizing a bit too late how accusatory he must have sounded. “Shit, I mean it’s totally fine I just didn’t think you, uh, well I mean, like, knew about me I guess?”

You finally smiled and his brain power cut out another fourth at being personally graced by the expression this close up.

“Yeah, you always check me out—fuck sorry not that you check me out, just you scan my books and I just called you ‘book drop boy’ in my head cause I never got a chance to ask for your name but I have it now so that’s cool….”

Your head dropped back down to your knees as you groaned and Jin suddenly felt a lot less nervous than he had a few seconds ago.

You were weird too.

For so long you’d existed on this pedestal thousands of feet in the air, and now you were stepping down from the heavens and onto earth. Not in a bad way! Just, Jin had never really stopped to think that you might be a person too.

Well.

No, he knew you were a person, just he never thought you might get flustered and ramble and be nervous in front of him.

Cause he was a fucking train wreck—the bar was so goddamn low.

It was almost as comforting as your smile.

“Oh, yeah sorry I’m not the best at customer service if you couldn’t tell,” he sighed and ran a hand through his wild hair.

You looked back up with a wry grin, “I don’t know, I’d say you’re going above and beyond right now.”

And you were funny.

He was gonna fucking combust.

“Ha, yeah, I try,” he trailed off for a moment before glancing back at your curled in your corner, fuck he could just imagine sitting behind you, your head on his chest while you—”So uh, did you wanna talk about it or…?”

“Uh, yeah,” you picked idly at the grouting of the stone and mumbled, “I guess it’s not so weird if we’re on a first-name basis.

And that was how Jin discovered that you’d been hiding in the back of the library bawling your eyes out for hours—since even before his shift started. Apparently you’d gotten here extra early, even skipped a class, to snag some super specific required text for your final thesis and right before you got to the shelf some jackass swooped in, effectively hit and running with the only copy of that book on campus.

The book in questions was one of the newer additions that had special added footnotes you needed for your paper and was a whopping 500 fucking dollars to rent from every other place online. You couldn’t afford it, and honestly what fucking student could? But you needed it to complete the paper or you’d fail and Jin very much understood the need for a good breakdown after a catastrophe like that.

“Damn, that’s uh, fucking awful,” he frowned on your behalf as your head hit the wall a second time in frustration.

“Yeah so, I’m like royally fucked either way. Now I just gotta decide which hole I’m taking it in I guess,” you groaned.

Jin’s eyebrows raised at your choice of words but they were apt, he supposed. People really do get comfortable with each other pretty quick when bonding over shared institutional rage.

“Well,” he began, wringing his hands nervously at what he was about to suggest. “You might be in luck cause I’ve recently decided to abuse my library powers for good and I maybe, possibly, could try and see if there’s some strings I can pull?”

You perked up a bit, looking at him incredulously.

Jin felt comfortably full under your stare.

“Seriously?”

The word was soft and it bounced off the walls just as much as it did the inside of his skull.

Swapping study rooms to help a friend out was one thing. But falsifying checkout dates for someone he barely knew—had essentially married in his maladaptive fantasies—could get him fired.

He hated this job but he needed it.

Were you worth the risk?

Of course, he found himself thinking without hesitation.

You were everything.

“Yeah, sure,” he nodded, any lingering uncertainty washing away at the way you looked at him through your lashes. “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it.”

“Are you always this nice?”

Jin didn’t answer right away. He was too caught up in how you’d leaned forward on your hands across the bench, peering like he was some exotic animal or a stray cat in the parking lot—all soft wonderment with fingers curling like they ached to grab hold and rescue him from this parchment scented monotony.

“Not always…”

“Should I feel special then?”

If his face wasn’t red before, it was now. Red and blistering under the summer campfire heat that radiated off you—woodsy and warm and so painfully familiar like an old friend’s hand.

“...I guess you—fucking definitely, ” he quite nearly shouted the last bit, startled by his own volume and already mortified at the outburst but then you chuckled again from beside him.

He turned to see you standing and offering a hand which he gladly too if only to feel the weight of your palm against his.

“Well, you’ll have to let me pay you back then.”

“Oh, no you don’t actually—”

You held a hand up and the words turned to ash on his tongue in an instant, mouth glued shut by your gesture.

“Coffee on me or something, there’s a nice cafe a few blocks from here,” you dropped your hand and your eyes were clear now, no sign of the previous afternoon sobbing alone in the hallway. Jin felt a surge in his chest knowing he was the one who did that. “You gotta pass off the contraband anyway, and I don’t think it would be that great of an idea to do it here.”

God you were fucking perfect.

“Can’t argue with that.”

***

Jin was sweating profusely as he snuck past the library attendant, totally inconspicuous and not not all looking like he was doing a single thing wrong in the slightest.

Yeah they definitely didn’t suspect a thing.

The process of fraud was actually a lot less complicated of an undertaking that Jin had expected. All he had to do was search up the book, find the student that had stolen the success of his sweetheart’s educational career and flag his account. They’d get an automated message about the flag, instructing them to return any borrowed items or they’d be forced to pay fines while the account was examined.

Technically he needed administrator credentials to report student accounts, but luckily Kurogiri had his login info written on a sticky note hidden on the back of the monitor. All in all it was a pretty easy job.

The whole thing had taken only a matter of days, in which time you had returned to the library only twice—the first to get confirmation on the success of Jin’s newest descent into low level crime which had set his heart thundering in his chest as you bent conspiratorially over his desk, your face just inches from his.

The second time, Jin had horrifically been absent from his desk, however he was met with possibly the most wonderful sight of his life upon returning from the labyrinth of shelves.

On one of the hundreds of post-it note pads that littered the library reception area, there were scribbles that he was sure hadn’t been there before. He almost tossed it, but upon closer inspection, you’d written your number there and signed just below it. In the cutest fucking handwriting he’d ever seen—cute not for any stylistic reason, but it simply felt that way just by virtue of it being yours—was written the digits and “-for book drop boy”

The noise he made reading that turned more than a dozen heads and almost got him fired there on the spot before any of his indiscretions were even discovered, but he couldn’t find it in himself to regret it.

So, nerve wrackingly, Jin texted you as he nearly sprinted home from his shift after that piece of shit asshole who made you cry had trudged angrily in and dropped off his ‘stolen’ book.

— HEY IT’S JIN!

— from the library

— shit sorry that wasn’t meant to be in caps

— n e way….

— I’ve intercepted the ~package~ so whenever you’re ready for the hand off, I’m good

Most perfect fucking human being to…

Oh my god thank you so much!!!—

Is tomorrow at like 5ish good for you?—

Also send me your order—

so we don’t have to do that awkward waiting in line for drinks bit—

Holy fuck you multi-texted too! Spinner would roll over in his fucking grave, he hated when Jin did that. But there was always so much to say and he could never think of it all at the same time. Plus, you wanted to save him from that god awful silence where you both stand in line next but he can’t talk cause he has keep repeating his order in his head over and over or he’ll blank when he gets to the register so it’s just this painful weird glancing back and forth—

Ugh, maybe all the shit about manifestation that girl who always loaned him exacto knives in his sculpting class always talked about was real.

Cause there was no way you weren’t just heaven-sent, handcrafted especially for him and all his general brand of weird.

The hours which usually flew by without Jin’s notice dragged all that night. He was so full of excess energy that made his hand shake and his thoughts race, not sure what to do with themselves now that they didn’t need to fantasize about you.

He decided to use all that extra motivation to vacuum the kitchen at 4:30 in the morning, much to his roommates' chagrin. She liked to get a nice solid eight hours every night and constantly reminded Jin of this, trying to sell him on that sleepy time tea before bed, though he really hated the smell of camomile.

Magne may lose out on some of her beauty sleep—not that she needed it and Jin would tell her that constantly, even if he did have some patently horrible judgment most of the time so he wasn’t really the best at offering reassurance—but the kitchen would be clean when she woke up so win-win really.

When she did wake up—wandering out of her room looking effortlessly put together in a way Jin could never hope to emulate—she sat at the table, sipping her tea and appraising him worriedly.

Jin was still in his jeans from the day before, hair spiking in every direction but down, and chewing his nails nervously despite losing most of them to the hour or two of early morning floor scrubbing.

“Babe,” she shook her head slowly, “take a breath.”

“Yeah okay,” he sighed and inhaled deeply, letting himself slide off the couch cushions and to the newly sparkling floors on the exhale.

“There, now wanna share what the hell is going on?”

He glanced up at her from the hardwood and groaned as she looked back down, brows furrowed over her glasses.

“Huhh, okay. So that absolute work of art from the library is meeting me for coffee later cause I have trade over this book I sort of stole, it’s a long story, and I don’t know if it’s a date—it sounds like a date, cause that’s where people go for dates and shit—but it might just be to pay me back for stealing the book. And if it is I’ve only ever been on that one date before which was with fucking Spinner like two years ago so—”

Magne held up a hand to quiet Jin before the speed of his words tied his tongue in physical knots. She looked contemplative, taking another soft sip of tea and nodding her head for a moment getting up to crouch on the floor by his head.

“You think too much for your own good, but never about the right things,” she mumbled, smoothing some of the hair from his face. “Does it really matter if this is a date or not?”

Jin blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” she chuckled in that way people do when kids ask them obvious questions—kindly, appreciative of the curiosity, “either way you cut it, you’ll be spending time with this person you like, yeah?”

“Mhm,” he hummed and sat up to face her as she stood.

“A date is just hanging out with a special name anyway,” Magne’s hands were firm but gentle as she hoisted Jin off the floor and onto his feet. “You’ll be fine.”

His shoulders slumped both in mild relief and dejection that he’d waisted so much precious time he could have been preparing possible topics of conversation or strategies to ask you out for real date on worrying over how this first time would go.

How did Magne always fucking know all this stuff?

Other people were such a mystery to him.

To be fair, though, Jin was a mystery to himself most of the time as well.

“Thanks, sorry for not saying anything about it earlier,” he sniffed as she smiled and pinched his cheek way fucking harder than necessary.

“It’s alright, I’m only a little insulted you waited until now to tell me about this massive crush you’ve developed.”

“Yeah it’s got its own gravitational pull at this point.”

Magne laughed at that and Jin felt the room lighten.

“I do expect details when you get back though,” she said pointedly, finishing her tea wandering back to her room to grab her bag. “Spinner asked me, very begrudgingly might I add, to fill in at another of his club tournament things tonight so I’ll be out late.”

“Really? I didn’t think you liked that stuff.”

Jin shuffled over to her doorway and peaked into the neat little space. Magne was rummaging through the meticulously organized closet and frowning as she answered.

“I do, Spinner just doesn’t agree with my battle strategies,” she huffed. “My alignment is far too ‘chaotic’ and ‘recklessly violent’ for his tastes apparently.”

“Oh, yeah that makes sense,” Jin laughed this time just envisioning the two of them stuck on a team. “Well have fun with that.”

“Yeah well,” she brushed by him into the hall, keys jangling as she went and calling over her shoulder. “Text me how it goes, and wear that new button up you got last week, it looks good on you!”

***

Much to Jin’s surprise and delight, Magne was right.

He was fine.

Fine was a bit subjective—as he was most certainly still highkey panicking on main as he got out of his last class and walked the short few blocks to the cafe on campus—but regardless he was perfectly okay.

Of course that all went right out the fucking window in the split second between him walking in and you already staring at the door as he entered. Your eyes widened just a bit and this smile broke out slowly across your cheeks when you waved him over and it was like suddenly every single creepy as hell day dream had just become reality.

It was a little overwhelming to say the least.

His heart may have actually stopped in his chest for a bit and he did contemplate the possibility that Kurogiri might have actually discovered his little plot, murdered him in cold blood and stuffed his body in the records room. This might all just be the afterlife, but that would mean that Jin had gone to some kind of heaven which didn’t really add up with his current tract record.

But it was fine.

Because you were really fucking easy to talk to.

Like, really fucking easy.

It was sorta strange actually, how you seemed to know all this shit he was into before he even really mentioned it.

After you traded off the goods, you both sat in the big comfy couches upstairs in the loft and you listened to him info dump, inevitably getting lost down innumerable unrelated tangents. You managed to keep up well enough though and not question the winding conversation.

“Damn,” he said, sipping at the last dregs left behind in his cup. “How do you know about all this stuff?”

“Uh,” you paused then, looking maybe just a bit sheepishly into your own drink. “I may or may not have spent a considerable amount of time eavesdropping into your conversations while you’re on shift.”

He saw flashes at that moment—dial up sounds going off between his ears.

Jin.exe has stopped working.

“...What?”

You grimaced and hid your face in your hands for a moment, “I know it sounds really creepy, my friends just sorta made a, um, game out of it? They tease me a lot about going to study at the library just cause of the cute guy that works there, so we all kinda stalk you a little bit just—wow this is sounding exponentially worse and worse every second.”

He gaped a bit despite himself as you cringed visibly and Jin tried to discreetly pinch his thigh to make sure this really wasn’t some sort of cruel, cruel fever dream.

“You think I’m cute…?”

He blinked once and your eyes shot up to meet his, a pained, half smile caught between your teeth. “I mean, yeah. I kinda thought I was being a bit obvious, sorry.”

“What no, holy fuck,” he spluttered, face on fire and legs bouncing restlessly against the couch across from you. “Don’t apologize, I have a, uh, staring habit too I guess.”

“I know,” you rubbed at the back of your neck and Jin didn’t think it was possible for you to be anymore endearing. “I’ve noticed, that’s like the whole reason I insisted on buying you a drink.”

“So wait is this a date?”

Jin wished almost immediately that he hadn’t asked, because Magne was right, it super didn’t matter but fucking shit on a stick he really wanted it to be a date!!!!

“Yeah,” you nodded. “If you’d like that.”

“Yes!—ah, I mean, uh yeah mhm,” Jin choked on his spit with enthusiasm, but it did earn him a concerned shoulder pat so he’d take the win.

It also afforded him the opportunity to walk you home after hours chatting until the streets were lit by burnt orange lamps and the cafe was closing. You didn’t live all that far from him actually and when you stopped to point out your door, the two of you were overcome by that telltale, charged silence.

Filled with potential.

Like a gas stove waiting for a spark to go up in flames.

It was you that struck the match.

“So, um, I promise I don’t just, uh, do this with everyone but, do you wanna maybe come inside,” you let your hand trail down his arm and slip into his palm, “I don’t feel like you’ve been properly compensated for saving my ass.”

Jin’s mouth was watering at the thought. He nodded slowly, eyes like saucers as you pulled him up your steps and through the door which shut promptly behind him.

Your place was nice in the sense that it fit you. He wasn’t really paying all that much attention to his surroundings as you locked the door and squeezed his hand in yours, leading him towards the end of the entrance hall.

When he stepped through to your bedroom, you toed off your shoes and he did the same, staring nervously and waiting for you to show him what exactly you meant by ‘further compensation.’

It was exactly what he’d hoped.

You approached him, still in the doorway, and stepped close so your chests brushed together. It was soft, the way you looked at him, sort of fuzzy around the edges while your hands trailed down his arms to place his palms at your waist.

It wasn’t like Jin hadn’t done this before—he totally had and definitely remembered all of it and wasn’t shit faced at all nope—but it hadn’t really mattered before. He knew in theory that he should take the lead, be a gentleman and make the first move and holy fucking god he was dying over there with the desire to finally live out his months and months of fantasies

But what if he did it wrong?

What if he ruined it now when he was so close to the finish line?

He’d never fucking forgive himself for it, and he could goddamn hear Magne in his head.

“You think too much for your own good.”

And he did, and he was right now, cause the room was only dimly lit by the street light streaming in through the window and you were reaching out to loop your arms behind his neck.

Should he lean down now?

Tilt left or right?

What if he clacked your teeth together?

What if—

Your lips were soft and hot against his, rubbing at the stubble on his chin before pressing close in that precious, puzzle-piece way human bodies fit together. He didn’t do much thinking after that.

His hands were too busy digging into the flesh of your hips separated by way to many fucking layers of fabric, and he couldn’t quite stop himself from indulging just a bit. Jin sucked gently at your lower lip, knees going weak at the glorious fucking sound you made in the back of your throat as he licked over the taught skin and tugged it between his teeth.

He could feel you smiling into his mouth, sharing breath and raking your fingers through the hair at the base of his neck. Jin groaned and you—fucking cheeky little bastard—slipped your tongue right past his lips and licked at the back of his fucking teeth like a popsicle in July.

Your hands in his hair hard tugged and his breath was coming faster, lips gliding against yours as the room turned to steam around him.

Through the haze he clung to the few remaining seconds of clarity.

Jin pulled away for one painful second to mumble against your lips.“You meant have sex, right?”

“Yeah,” your voice was barely more than a whisper, but you nodded frantically and rolled your hips against his.

“Ohh fuck, ‘kay good, thank god.”

For once Jin had nothing more to add.

And you weren't exactly willing to give him back his tongue long enough for any interruptions anyway.

***

“Holy fucking shit, look at you,” Jin gasped into your ear.

Both of your clothes had been discarded long ago, and he had your bare back to his chest while he sat propped against the headboard with your legs hooked on either side of his knees. It didn’t afford him the best view, but he got your head resting on his shoulder and pretty moans spilling right into his ear.

He didn’t need to see your pussy anyway.

The slick pouring out of your pretty fucking hole and coating his fingers as he pumped two of them into you was more than enough. His other hand wandered in the lovely expanse of space between your chest and your waist, running softly over the skin and pausing to pinch and roll your nipples just to hear you whine.

His cock was so fucking hard, trapped between your ass and his stomach, twitching every time you thrust your hips to meet the movement of his wrist.

“Jin, fuck please-”

You used his name every time you begged him for more and it was really going to his head.

“You’re so goddamn perfect, I’m gonna fucking ruin you,” he groaned and sunk his fingers deeper into your soaking cunt while his mouth dropped to your neck and sucked hard to mark you lovely skin.

He licked at the indents of his teeth, tasting your sweat on his tongue that tangled with yours again as your hand reached for his cheek and pulled him in. It was less of a kiss and more of a sloppy forming of your mouths that left you connected by a silvery string of spit that flashed in the low light. Jin sighed at the sight, rutting his hips against the cleft of your ass.

Your thighs twitched where they were spread and your hips lifted off the mattress to meet the languid thrusts of his fingers that curled up on every push in to hear the hitch in your breath.

He took pity on you and brought his other hand down to rub circles on your clit, listening for the telltale whimpers and the way your nails dug into his arm to find the perfect rhythm.

“I don’t really—mm, there fuck—feel like I’m paying you back right now,” you mumbled nipping your own trail of stepping stone bruises onto his throat as he picked up the pace and held steady on that sweet bundle of nerves.

“Are you fucking serious?”

He didn’t really mean to full on growl at you then, but just the thought that you’d really believe he wasn’t about to fucking drown in ecstasy just from watching you get off—just from touching, speaking, being in anyway acknowledged by you at all. Jin nudged your head to the side and bit down harshly into the crook of your neck, shuddering as you moaned and arched against his chest.

In any other scenario, he could never really find the right balance between too many words and not enough. The sheer volume of thoughts and interjections that raced like cars reaching the end of rush hour traffic made the formulation of any coherent conversation impossible, but now—

Now with your body so pliant in his hands, so willing and sweet and wanting him.

Wanting him.

What a concept.

He needed you to understand, to know how fucking over the moon, sunshine bright you had him burning.

And for once, he finally had the words to do it.

After all, he’d had months to prepare.

It was surprisingly easy to change your positions, to pull away from you for just a moment so he could roll and cage you on your hands and knees under him, ass in the air nestled against his cock.

“You really don’t think I’m getting anything out of this?” he groaned into you ear, rocking his length against you both for emphasis and because it felt so fucking good.

“Ah, well ya know,” your voice was so wrecked he was desperate to find out how much it would take for you to lose it entirely. “When you put it like that—mmh—I just feel bad you’re doing all the work. ”

You had this cheeky fucking grin on your face when you rocked forward so back so his cock slipped down to your dripping lips. The heat of your cunt was mesmerizing and it took a fuck ton of self control Jin was unaware he possessed to not ram straight into you right then.

“Yeah cause I’ve wanted to for fucking months goddamn it’s driving me insane.”

“What?”

Now that he’d started, Jin couldn’t find it in himself to stop. His hands dug hard into your hips, rocking so the tip of his dick caught your clit and you shivered below him, hot skin sliding with the motion of your bodies.

“It’s all I think about whenever I see you,” he was shaking when his hand reached down to grip himself, spreading your folds and soaking his length in your slick. “When you come in to work I just fucking lose myself thinking about how bad I want you to be mine, my pretty fucking thing to bring me coffee while I work and let me fuck you in the backroom.”

You whimpered under him, face pressed into the mattress as he draped himself over you, chest to back with his breath ghosting over your ear.

“Literal hours I just sit there at that awful fucking job and I only keep coming cause of you, cause I can watch you sit all cute in your chair and watch the way your cheeks squish up when you put your face in your hands and imagine they’re my hands and I’m about to spit in your fucking mouth so you remember who you belong too.”

“I—” you were nearly choking on the drool that soaked through your sheets as Jin lined himself up with your pretty little hole, pressing just the tip into your heat. “I didn’t think you ever—nggh, shit—noticed much about me.”

The corners of his eyes burned as sweat dripped down his forehead, he had to hold back a sob as he sheathed another inch into those perfect walls.

“Notice you? You’re all I fucking think about,” he pressed his lips softly against your shoulder, hands running from your chest to your sides as you took his cock and every word that slipped from his lips without complaint. “I could take such good care of you. I just fucking know it, just please, let me take care of you?”

“Fuck Jin,” your voice was closer to a sob than anything else but he needs you screaming. “You don’t really have to convince me—”

His patience had run out long ago, not even willing to let you finish before he’d sunk in to the hilt, spearing you on his cock with one final thrust. You ass was flush with his hips and his balls hung heavy and tight against the back of your thighs. The strangled little cry that worked its way out of your throat had gooseflesh erupting across his arms where he held you to him.

Jin couldn’t really be sure—it wasn’t like his brain was all that functional on a day to day basis and it most certainly was not now—but your walls clenching around him and that addictive warm, wet feeling milking his cock was on a whole other level than any fuck he’d ever had before.

There was something about the curve of your back against his chest, and the way you seemed to suck him in, drawing his length back in just seconds after he’d pulled out. Some about the feeling of your chest in his hands, of the sweat on your skin that he licked off in a long strip up your spine. Like you really were made for him. As though all those months spent in dream land, concocting your pretend lives together had spilled over into reality, molding you into the perfect shape to take him deep and hard and cry while you came on his cock just like he knew you were meant to.

“Oh, fuck yeah, gonna make you feel so good, I promise,” he mumbled, forehead pressed to the nape of your neck as his hips drew back and he sunk into you over and over again.

He needed you to moan louder, needed your neighbors on the other side of every wall to hear what he did to you, how he fucked you dumb on his cock and made you drunk with the pleasure of it—slutty and perfect and better than any fantasy he could ever concoct.

The room was filled completely with the wet slap of your bodies—his balls tightening up just at the squelch of you taking him—leaving only enough space for your cries and his grunting, no room left for any bitter doubt to creep in and ruin the sweetness in the air.

He could feel the surge growing in his stomach, the tensing in his thighs as his hips stuttered, but he needed you to cum first. Wanted to tip over the edge to the feeling of you spasming around him, so he let a hand slip from your hip to your folds. Jin only paused for a moment to run a finger around your stretched hole, feeling himself plunging into you, before drifting back up to your swollen clit and working the sensitive bud.

The mattress creaked and rocked along as Jin increased his pace, shifting his hips until his tip knocked against something that had your hands fisting in the sheets and your tongue lolling out in between cries of his name.

You didn’t give him much a warning, not that he minded really. Just a muffled shout with your head smashed into the pillows and the tightening of your walls surrounding him before he felt your whole body wracked with tremors so hard he had to wrap both arms around your middle and hold you while he rammed into you.

Jin wasn’t really keeping track of the filth that was pouring from his lips as he brought himself closer to release. A lot of encouragement, that you were taking him so well, cumming so pretty for him, mixed with a lot of thanks—for letting him have this, have you, for not casting him aside like everyone else always inevitably did.

He did have the clarity to drag one arm up and link your fingers together, pressing hard into the bed while blood pounded in his ears and his hips stuttered in their relentless rhythm. When Jin did finally cum, it was a strangely silent affair, all the words and sound that usually roared inside him dying on his lips as his cock spilled milky release deep inside you and your walls fluttered at the fullness.

And then it was as though every muscle in his body changed physical states.

Boneless, he collapsed onto you with a little huff. You didn’t even complain, just squeezed his hand tighter in yours and hummed at the weight of him.

“Well I think that was a, um,” you panted while he nuzzled his face deeper into your neck, “pretty equivalent exchange yeah?”

“I don’t know,” Jin kissed and nipped at the sweet skin of your shoulder, “I think you might have over paid a bit.”

You laughed, the joyous movement of your chest jostled him from your back and had his soft cock slipping from you in a gush of combined release. “I doubt that very much, I didn’t know I’d be getting to take your fucking load as part of the deal.”

“Shit,” he felt his heart seize in his chest, raising up on his elbows to look down as you turned to him. “I’m sorry, I should have asked.”

Your hand came up to stroke his cheek, clammy but welcome. He sat up enough so you could lay on your back and pull him back down to your chest amidst the sweat and cum slicked sheets.

“Don’t worry about it, I would have asked you to anyway,” you kissed the baby frizz at his hairline and if Jin hadn’t already melted into a puddle, then he certainly was now. “If I’d been able to talk at all.”

“Ha, yeah….”

A short silence descended in your dark bedroom. The noise of cars and the occasional shout filtered in through the window, but there was no other sound than your evening breaths. Jin tried not to ruin the peace while he had it.

It was such a rare commodity.

But he couldn’t say he mourned the quiet when you finally spoke.

“Did you wanna stay the night?” you asked in that soft way he always envisioned you would.

Soft so he’d know it was just a courtesy.

That you didn’t want him to leave.

“Uh, yeah, yes I would,” he stumbled over the words a bit, trying not to sound too eager but wanting you to know he would work a thousands shifts at the reception desk if it meant you held him for just a second longer.

“Good,” you sighed.

He felt you scoot down the bed and flopped onto his back so you could settle your head on his chest and drape an arm across his stomach. After another few minutes he felt you go limp at his side, soft and relaxed as you slipped away into dreams.

But though his muscles ached and his eyes felt heavy, Jin resisted the call to sleep.

He didn’t need to now.

You were here, in the flesh, and he could study you intently while his eyes were open.

No need for his brain to conjure up scattered images of you.

Because he had you now, tucked safely under his arm for him to keep and hold and fuck and love the way he wanted.

So there was no more need for sleep.

And no need for dreams.

#twice x reader #twice x you #jin bubaigawara x reader #bee writes #bnha fanfiction #college au #library!twice x student!reader #twice mha #bee.writes

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gallavictorious · 4 years ago

Note

Once again the fandom coming together to daydream about Mickey helping Ian out and seeing him back on track to become an emt again but why is that on Mickey? Why does he always have to do things to make Ian happy when Ian's usually nothing but annoyed by Mickey and does nothing to make Mickey happy? Truly shows which character y'all care about more.

This got absurdly long, because I am who I am and did take the opportunity to go off on a tangent about valid conclusions and what not, so I put it under a cut. Read at your own risk! Oh, and I also do address the actual question about whether or not Ian's career is on Mickey, and whether or not Ian never does anything to make Mickey happy. ;)

For the sake of clarity, I got this ask in response to this post.

And I gotta say, nonnie, getting this ask perplexed me to the point of running off to Trusted Fandom Friends, demanding to know how my undying love and loyalty for Mickey could ever be doubted. Had to laugh at myself a little, actually, and the strenght of my befuddlement. It reminded me of the time I went on a trip with people from the 501st (cosplayers dedicated to the bad guys in Star Wars) and Rebel Legion (cosplayers dedicated to the good guys in Star Wars) and a lot of people assumed I was a Rebel sympathizer simply because I had friends in that group and those were the people who had invited me. Excuse me, I didn't yell, I have like 30 Darth Vaders in my damned home, how dare you question my allegiance? I was so used to always being known as a diehard Vaderkin fangirl that the mer fact of strangers failing to recognize me as such genuinely fucked a little with my sense of identity. My love of Mickey isn't anywhere near as deeply ingrained into my sense of self, since he's only been an occasional presence in my life since 2016 while Darth Vader's been my main man since 1994, but it was still a little jarring to suddenly find myself (mis)identified as an Ian stan.

Being a fangirl is strange.

And I want to make it clear that I do love Ian. He's a fascinating character and, to me, he's a character that's often much harder to understand than Mickey. He rewards careful analysis and discussion, though, so I guess I tend to talk a lot about him? I don't need to spend as much time considering Mickey's feelings and motivations because they are (almost) always pretty obvious; I don't need to tease them out. But at the end of the day, Mickey is my favourite. (Though I'll always love Ian and Mickey together more than I love either of them on their own. It's like fresh cilantro and mint – each perfectly lovely in their own right, but the combination of them creates a flavour that's just out of this world.)

Now, you might argue that you don't follow me and so have no idea who I am and what I like to post about, and that going only by that single post (which, in fairness, was tagged with 'i just want ian to be happy okay?') I give off the general impression of an Ian stan. And that's fair enough; I'm an obscure blog in a decently big fandom and you're not required to keep track of anyone. However, if you want to throw around passive aggressive accusations of caring more about one character than the other, I will ask you to do your research first. Reacting to one single piece of data without considering the context is a common but highly unfortunate practice that needlessly complicates meaningful conversations, and we'd all do well to abstain from it.

Oh, you don't want to spend a lot of time and energy on consdering every single thing a specific Tumblr blog has ever said on a specific topic just so you can draw a valid conclusion about their stance? That's perfectly understandable, nonnie, and easily sorted: refrain from making unsubstantiated claims about what other people think or don't think and you won't have to. Ask them, if you wonder. If you see a tendency in fandom to put the responsibility for Ian's wellbeing and career or Mickey's shoulders and want to discuss that, that's totally cool! I am game (and will address that question below)! But it's very possible to do that without somewhat rudely ascribing perferences and opinions to other people, and you'll get better answers for it (for instance, you won't have to wade through me rambling on about valid conclusions and my memories from other fandoms... ).

It seems to me, though, that this touches upon a long-held frustration of yours. If I interpret your ask correctly, you think the show gives us an Ian who is mostly annoyed with Mickey and doesn't do anything to make him happy, and you think that the fandom responds to this by relegating Mickey to the role of Ian's caretaker, whose sole purpose is to serve Ian's needs without any regard for what might Mickey himself happy. Have I got that right?

If so, it should be noted that I don't agree with either of these takes: I don't think that's the Ian the show gives us (a point I will return to below), and I don't think that fandom at large only cares about Ian's happiness, and I particularly don't think that my post can be used a evidence of the latter.

For instance, when you sent me this ask the post in question had all of 40 notes. As I write this, it has just over 70. ”The fandom coming together” seems to be slightly overstating the case, don't you think? There are certainly fans who care more about Ian and only see Mickey as valuable as long as he contributes to Ian's happiness, just as there are fans who care more about Mickey and only see Ian as valuable as long as he contributes to Mickey's happiness - but this single post with less than a hundred notes does not support that either of these stances would be predominant within the fandom. (And, while on the topic, I'd like to state that I don't actually see a problem with either of those stances; these are fictional characters that exists for our entertainment and we don't have any moral obligations to treat them equally and fairly. Don't ruin other fans' fun by dumping on either of them in the character or shipping tags or on character and shipping posts and this is not a problem. It might be a somewhat unpopular opinion, but I don't think you have to love or even like all characters in a ship to ship it: I refuse to drink plain tea because it's nasty but put a splash of milk in it and its my favourite thing ever. You can love a combination without loving all the seperate pieces on their own. And yeah, I do revert to food metaphors a lot. I like food.)

Secondly, whether or not the post can be said to represent the feeling of the fandom at large (it cannot), I think that reading a post specifically about ”Mickey helping Ian out and seeing him back on track to become an emt again” and then extrapolating from that that Mickey ”always have to do things to make Ian happy” is a little wild. The very first thing I wrote for this fandom was a vision of Ian offering Mickey comfort, goddammit. (Ian giving Mickey a hug is so high on my list of desires, you can't even imagine)

As for your actual question (and, ah, imagine how much shorter this post would be if you had just left it at that) – of course that's not on Mickey. That much, incidentally, I've actually explicitly stated in another post. Ian might have his issues but he's still an adult and responsible for himself. That being said, I don't see it as particularly strange that someone would go out of their way to help their partner when they see them struggling? If I realize that someone I care about is unhappy and there's a way for me to help, I would want to help because I love them and want them to be happy, even if it's – ethically speaking – not my responsibility to do so. Pretty sure Mickey, who is action-oriented and so very protective of the people he loves, feels the same way.

Of course, if it's a one-sided thing – if one partner is always the one to do stuff for the other and never receives any support in return – that's not a healthy relationship, and I assume that this is what you're seeing in the show and taking exception to?

Only... I can't help but wonder who this Ian is, this uncaring, selfish version you see – because I don't quite get how it can be the Ian who emptied his bank account for Mickey, or the Ian who was ready to throw his parole and stay in prison for Mickey even when they were in the middle of a fight specifically because Mickey said it would make him happy, or the one who kept trying to talk to Mickey and win him back after Mickey punched him in the face, accidentally broke his leg, and took off with a new lover (I'm not taking sides in this one, btw – I have a lot of sympathy and understanding for both of them and their actions throughout this whole sorry affair), or the Ian who immediately wanted to marry Mickey protect him from the consequences of a murder Ian thought he had actually comitted, or the Ian who went along with arranging a real wedding even though he initially didn't at all understand why this was important to Mickey and who had someone come serenade him once he did, or the Ian who chose At last for Mickey to walk up to the aisle to, or the Ian who keeps trying to reach out to Mickey and to touch him and discuss their issues in a mature way even when he's (justifiably) upset about Mickey using all their wedding money without telling Ian. (Though Ian deciding for both of them that they're saving the money isn't great either.)

I mean, Ian's absolutely done shitty things, as has Mickey. They're human, and they're the products of a chaotic and often hostile enviroment. They do mess up a lot; they've hurt each other rather badly over the years. Depending on your perspective and preferences, you may think one or the other have behaved worse, but as far as I can see, the claim that Ian never does anything to make Mickey happy is simply not supported.

Ian has seemed unusually annoyed with Mickey this season, I'll give you that, but while that's not always the most fun thing to watch and I strongly sympathize with the wish to just see Ian look at Mickey with that fond look again, I don't find him being frustrated right now all that weird, given the circumstances. I'd argue it has less to do with Mickey and more to do with a general frustration over thwarted ambitions and not being able to hold on even to a really shitty job, though Mickey's attitude doesn’t exactly help (which is not to say that I think that Ian's the one in the right here, becasue Ian's way of handling things hasn't always been been stellar either). However, I do have faith in them sorting this out – because even though they fight and bicker and get annoyed with each other, there's never any indication that they're not both committed to making this marriage thing work. They certainly stumble, they misunderstand each other and lash out, but they calm down and go to sleep in the same bed and compromise and keep trying. Every day, they – both of them – choose each other.

I'd like to finish this off by noting, even though it's not entirely relevant to my argument, that that the number one thing that does make Mickey happy is being together with Ian, and even when Ian is pissed at Mickey and withholding sex (which was very ill-advised but says a lot of interesting things about his character, I think!) no one's sleeping on the couch, there are no nights away from the house and each other, and even in the middle of an argument they sit and stand next to each other. I think that's pretty telling of Ian's dedication, especially given his propensity for running away from his problems.

Phew. Okay, nonnie – though we don't agree and I doubt you'll find this answer satisfactory, I hope you see that I have done my best to understand your point of view and treat your arguments fairly and give you a thoughtful response. If you'd like to get back to me and elaborate on your stance, I'd ask that you show me the same courtesy. :)

#asks #i don't even know what to tag this i spent five hours writing it and my brain is mush #meta #i guess?

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rpmemesbyarat · 4 years ago

Conversation

RP Meme Lines from "AHS: Coven" Episode 12: "Go To Hell"

Your highest honor comes at the greatest price.

Death is not uncommon. And danger inescapable.

I don't even need to read your mind to know what you're doing.

Poor, sweet, dumb, paranoid girl.

The awful truth is I am tired.

I want to know what happened.

She's probably off in some unholy nether realm.

He's a deity. Show some respect.

Respect is something that is definitely lacking around here.

You will show me respect!

You look like shit.

I can't believe you did that to yourself.

Whoa! That was cool!

I did transmutation.

I didn't even have to think about it. It just happened.

Our powers always spike in times of crisis. This is one of those times.

You into girls now?

What are you afraid I might see?

Nothing stays a secret for very long in this house

It will come to light whether you want it to or not.

I don't have any secrets.

I'm the queen-- I will rise again!

My people gonna come for you. Rip you apart.

Give me the box of chicken. Today, please.

I'm going on break, okay?

This was the worst time of your life. Waiting on people who treated you like the piece of trash you thought you were. No power. No respect. And no future that you could see.

Your hell's on Earth.

Don't make me put you in the fryer.

Everybody got to pay in the end.

Wait! I'm not done with you!

Unless you want to stay here forever, you better hurry and get back.

Time moves differently in here.

I'm talking to you, bitch!

You made it back. I'm impressed.

Now that I've proven my power, you're gonna give me some answers.

You remember how you told me you were gonna cut me up in little pieces and plant me all over the place? I thought that was a honey of an idea.

There's got to be a way to kill her.

More marshmallows.

Well, she's not gonna be doing anything while she's chopped into 50 pieces and those pieces are scattered all over the city.

You are one crafty witch.

When do we get to see the attic torture chamber?

These wild tales of barbarity you've heard are nothing more than lies invented by her many enemies.

What a total rip-off.

How did you find me?

A dog returns to its vomit.

I see you finally got that makeover.

I'm here to set the record straight.

She even looks like a monster.

Many times while there were extravagant parties going on just below, the sounds of music and revelry drowning out the cries of torment.

You don't believe it?

It beggars all belief.

The information you've been feeding these people? It's inaccurate.

I want my money back.

Do not touch the display items!

You will never be able to pay for your crimes.

It's your only chance for redemption.

Agree to be publicly humiliated-- all is forgiven.

All anybody has to do nowadays is shed some tears, say some words

It's called repentance.

Oh, repentance my ass.

You think a man jack among them was well and truly sorry? Not a one. Sorry they got caught is all.

Y'all nothing but a pack of sniveling hypocrites, as far as I can see.

I won't profess to be sorry, 'cause I'm not.

I was getting to you before. I know it.

You made me weep.

I wept for the state of this world.

A world of lies. A world that makes promise it cannot keep.

I don't want to die.

I want my portrait hung just there.

What are you doing back there?

Do you need a break?

I probably have two weeks left on Earth.

Maybe we could be kind to one another for a change, huh?

Did you really think self-mutilation would restore your power?

You cannot lose your power. You never will. It's inside of you.

As much as I'd like to, I cannot take credit for that. It's all you.

You're saying good-bye?

A man shouldn't be disturbed when he's playing with his instrument.

You don't have your mother's features.

Oh, you know who I am?

We spent quite an evening together.

She can't love anyone but herself.

I saw everything. Everything.

Unzip me.

Whatever fantasy you have about who she is and what you are to her, it's all bullshit.

She used you. All she does is use people.

I don't suspect you have a passport ready.

You feel that? That empty heartbroken feeling?

When the rest of the world sees a wall, we see a window.

Is she alive?

She's not breathing.

That's deadly nightshade you're about to ingest through your nostrils. I wouldn't sniff around unless you're looking for a bout of delirium.

Where is everybody?

Who would have been cruel enough to commit such an atrocity?

I heard people die after three days without water.

Please tell me this is a hallucination driven by my bouquet of Atropa belladonna.

You were supposed to spend your days in romantic splendor with your true love.

You're just like Halston when he sold his brand to J.C. Penney. You've forsaken your destiny.

You bit it off.

Hey, you're in my spot!

I want to sleep!

We're leaving.

You, don't talk to me!

Is that why you came back, because you can't handle him?

You bitch.

You thought I was some dumb swamp rat you could leave behind to die?

Stop these vulgar fisticuffs at once.

It's beneath us.

I don't want to waste my magic on you.

You hit like a girl!

This is awesome!

You! You must pay for what you've done!

Wow, did you walk into the wrong house.

Who the hell is this guy?

I thought you banished his soul to the appropriate nether realms?

I'll kill all of you!

Is that blood?

How could you do this to me?

I don't remember the last time I was here when there wasn't music playing.

You pack your wader boots?

I don't like catfish. I loathe all bottom-feeders.

She's pretty, but she doesn't have your cheekbones.

I imagine she wanted me to do her dirty work for her.

We had a deal. It wasn't on paper, it wasn't stamped by a notary, but we had a deal!

You have been the most delightful distraction. A life preserver. But I'm gonna be on dry land soon.

Can't you at least pretend? Just, just humor me for a while?

I guess I loved you.

Although I really don't know anything about love, if I'm gonna be honest. But you were the sweetest of lovers. The best I've ever had. And I'll miss that.

Let go of me!

I know you love me!

Christ, I was sick!

I just needed to feel something.

I made you die those little deaths for the first time in your sorry life. I made you sing when you had no tunes left in you.

What you're doing is a crime against humanity.

Well, I've never been one for love, true or otherwise.

Does anyone feel any different?

Where's the body?

Somebody's got to kill this creep.

Is that really necessary?

I'll kill him.

We really don't need a man to protect us.

I know I mistreated you in the past but there's no greater pain than being this close and not, not being able to reach you. And to comfort you.

Oh, I'm consumed with regret.

Why are they doing this to us?

Please, I'm so thirsty.

Please have mercy.

Are you hungry, too?

I'll slice off one of your mama's fingers and feed it to you!

Yes, I have sinned.

I gave no quarter.

Have mercy on my soul!

I don't want to do this!

You will do as you are tasked.

Who is this man?

What is this place?

You have been granted your sweet release from the world of the mortal.

Welcome to hell.

I can't die!

We have a contract!

No one gets away with sin.

Everybody suffers.

#rp meme #rp memes #rp starters #roleplay memes #roleplay meme #roleplay starters #ahs #ahs coven

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diavolosthots · 4 years ago

Note

May i have the sfw alphabet for simeon pls 🥰

😭❤ yes you can I was hoping our angel would be requested ~

SIMEON SFW ALPHABET

Argument: Do they argue? How bad does it get?

Are you crazy???!!! He'd rather die than get into an argument with you!!! However, that does not mean he doesnt, but he calls it an "educated discussion." Honestly you could throw things at him and he'd forgive you, saying its just your silly human emotions.

Babies: fur baby, scaly baby, or no baby?

Whatever you want is fine by him as long as youre responsible. Personally, hed love to get a dog because who doesnt like dogs?? Theyre fluffy and loyal and make you want to go outside.

Cocktails: are they extroverted? Introverted? Both? With their s/o?

Introverted with an extroverted streak. He sticks with his close friends most of the time but every once in a while this man goes wild and just wants to throw himself out there. Same with a s/o.

Dance: would they encourage their s/o to join become "sinful" so they could stay in hell/the devildom? How would they take it if they did?

Uhm no. Absolutely not you wont be staying here. You'll go back up to the human world, live out your life, while he stays by your side, and when it's time to go, you got a first class ticket into heaven. Unless youre a really bad person but lets be honest if you're horrible, Simeon wouldnt be with you :/.

Exit: Do they like to travel? Where would they want to go?

Oh he loves travel! He likes seeing what humans have come up with over the centuries and anything is fine by him. Whether you want to see Romanias country side or the hustling city of Tokyo, it's completely up to you dear!

Food: what's their favorite date with their s/o?

He likes midnight picnics by lakes the most because its super relaxing and you can see all the stars in the sky. Also he likes it when you put your head on his shoulder and slowly fall asleep. It's nice that you trust him with your most vulnerable state.

Grease: what's something special they made for their s/o?

He made them a dress out of ~celestial~ things but really it feels just like a flowy silk dress. Just with. You know, a little bit of magic in it.

Honesty: would they ever hide something from their s/o?

No hes completely honest with you. The basic foundation of any relationship is trust, especially a romantic relationship.

Independence: what type of lover are they? Clingy or carefree?

He's kind of clingy, not gonna lie, but not like Leviathan. He wants to be around you and spend as much time as possible, but he respects your space and its fine by him when you just want to be alone.

Jealous: are they a jealous person?

Lmao no. Again, trust is the basis of any relationship. However, if he sees someone hit on you and it makes you uncomfortable, he'll swoop in to safe. God forbid you flirt with someone else though, poor baby will get sad.

Kindness: how far would they go for their s/o? Ride or die kind of thing?

Hed do pretty much anything you ask of him as long as its not illegal or ~sinful~

Love: what's their love type?

Words of Affirmation and Gifts. He wants you to know that you are beautiful inside and out during all times of the day, but he also just likes to surprise you with little gifts and watch your face light up. He likes to spoil :')

Mouth: where's their favorite place to kiss?

The back of your hand definitely. He just likes to hold it and pull it up to his face, gently pressing his lips to it because its sweet and he's not overly in your face about it.

No: anything they wouldnt do with or for their s/o?

Betray God. Sin. Anything illegal. He is an angel After all so anything that is just deemed morally wrong or sinful, is gonna be a no from him.

Odor: what's their favorite scent? On a s/o?

He loves Lavender and Roses ~ they're both very sweet but relaxing and it just makes him feel happy.

PDA: how open are they to PDA

Not very open. You can hold his hand or give him a hug but he doesnt like it when people are so open about private things around him so he doesnt want to do that to anyone else, either.

Questions: will they be an open book or not?

Yes! Completely open for you to read, and he hopes you are too. But if you're not, he'll give you the time you need.

Reserved: what's something that only his s/o would know about?

Probably how he really feels about demons lol he's okay with them but deep down he does think they're an abomination and much like Luke, doesnt like the Devildom.

Serious: how long until they start to get really serious with their s/o?

Hes serious from the beginning. Romantic relationships should only have one outcome and that's marriage. Anything other than that is a waste of his and your time.

Type: what's their type in a s/o ?

Someone soft and kind. Someone who loves life. A helper and empath. Someone easy going who doesnt always worry about the details. Someone pure and innocent, maybe even someone who sticks with God though he doesnt judge based on religion.

Untouched: have they been in a relationship before? How many?

Lmao no. He's saving himself for that ~special~ someone you know? He doesnt have time to play games and fool around.

Very: what's something they're really good at outside of hobbies?

He strikes me as the type of person who makes flower crowns in his free time so probably that! He likes making them too and puts a little bit of magic on them so they last forever.

Weird: what's something odd or weird about them?

He doesnt need sleep like at all. You can sleep for days but this man can stay awake for days. Perks of being an angel I guess.

Xylophone: their favorite part about you? Physically? Mentally?

Physically it's your feet because theyre so small and carry such a big thing you know? It's amazing how human bodies work. Mentally it's your empathy and compassion; he admires that in people especially since a lot of humans are selfish.

Yearning: would they like a family? How many kids?

Pushing the fact that angels shouldnt elope with humans aside, yes hed like a family. AFTER MARRIAGE. Y'all need to stand before the Lord and go through the process of the holy union first before thats ever a topic.

Zebra: Do they change throughout their relationship? Are they truly themselves?

Hes always truly himself. Again, honesty and trust are important to him and he would never lie to you.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #simeon obey me #simeon x reader #sfw alphabet

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ahouseoflies · 4 years ago

Text

The Best Films of 2020

I can’t tell you anything novel or insightful about this year that has been stolen from our lives. I watched zero of these films in a theater, and I watched most of them half-asleep in moments that I stole from my children. Don’t worry, there are some jokes below.

GARBAGE

93. Capone (Josh Trank)- What is the point of this dinner theater trash? It takes place in the last year of Capone's life, when he was released from prison due to failing health and suffered a stroke in his Florida home. So it covers...none of the things that make Al Capone interesting? It's not historically accurate, which I have no problem with, but if you steer away from accuracy, then do something daring and exciting. Don't give me endless scenes of "Phonse"--as if the movie is running from the very person it's about--drawing bags of money that promise intrigue, then deliver nothing in return.

That being said, best "titular character shits himself" scene since The Judge.

92. Ammonite (Francis Lee)- I would say that this is the Antz to Portrait of a Lady on Fire's A Bug's Life, but it's actually more like the Cars 3 to Portrait of a Lady on Fire's Toy Story 1.

91. Ava (Tate Taylor)- Despite the mystery and inscrutability that usually surround assassins, what if we made a hitman movie but cared a lot about her personal life? Except neither the assassin stuff nor the family stuff is interesting?

90. Wonder Woman 1984 (Patty Jenkins)- What a miscalculation of what audiences loved about the first and wanted from the sequel. WW84 is silly and weightless in all of the ways that the first was elegant and confident. If the return of Pine is just a sort of phantom representation of Diana's desires, then why can he fly a real plane? If he is taking over another man's soul, then, uh, what ends up happening to that guy? For that matter, why is it not 1984 enough for Ronald Reagan to be president, but it is 1984 enough for the president to have so many Ronald Reagan signifiers that it's confusing? Why not just make a decision?

On paper, the me-first values of the '80s lend themselves to the monkey's paw wish logic of this plot. You could actually do something with the Star Wars program or the oil crisis. But not if the setting is played for only laughs and the screenplay explains only what it feels like.

89. Babyteeth (Shannon Murphy)- In this type of movie, there has to be a period of the Ben Mendelsohn character looking around befuddled about the new arrangement and going, "What's this now--he's going to be...living with us? The guy who tried to steal our medication? This is crazy!" But that's usually ten minutes, and in this movie it's an hour. I was so worn out by the end.

88. You Should Have Left (David Koepp)- David Koepp wrote Jurassic Park, so he's never going to hell, but how dare he start caring about his own mystery at the hour mark. There's a forty-five minute version of this movie that could get an extra star from me, and there's a three-hour version of Amanda Seyfried walking around in athleisure that would get four stars from me. What we actually get? No thanks.

87. Black Is King (Beyonce, et al.)- End your association with The Lion King, Bey. It has resulted in zero bops.

ADMIRABLE FAILURES

86. Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (Cathy Yan)- There's nothing too dysfunctional in the storytelling or performances, but Birds of Prey also doesn't do a single thing well. I would prefer something alive and wild, even if it were flawed, to whatever tame belt-level formula this is.

85. The Turning (Floria Sigismondi)- This update of The Turn of the Screw pumps the age of Miles up to high school, which creates some horny creepiness that I liked. But the age of the character also prevents the ending of the novel from happening in favor of a truly terrible shrug. I began to think that all of the patience that the film showed earlier was just hesitance for its own awful ending.

I watched The Turning as a Mackenzie Davis Movie Star heat check, and while I'm not sure she has the magnetism I was looking for, she does have a great teacher voice, chastening but maternal.

84. Bloodshot (David Wilson)- A whole lot of Vin Diesel saying he's going to get revenge and kill a bunch of dudes; not a whole lot of Vin Diesel actually getting revenge and killing a bunch of dudes.

83. Downhill (Nat Faxon and Jim Rash)- I was an English major in college, which means I ended up locking myself into literary theories that, halfway through the writing of an essay, I realized were flawed. But rather than throw out the work that I had already proposed, I would just keep going and see if I could will the idea to success.

So let's say you have a theory that you can take Force Majeure by Ruben Ostlund, one of the best films of its year, and remake it so that its statement about familial anxiety could apply to Americans of the same age and class too...if it hadn't already. And maybe in the first paragraph you mess up by casting Will Ferrell and Julia Louis-Dreyfus, people we are conditioned to laugh at, when maybe this isn't that kind of comedy at all. Well, don't throw it away. You can quote more--fill up the pages that way--take an exact shot or scene from the original. Does that help? Maybe you can make the writing more vigorous and distinctive by adding a character. Is that going to make this baby stand out? Maybe you could make it more personal by adding a conclusion that is slightly more clever than the rest of the paper?

Or perhaps this is one you're just not going to get an A on.

82. Hillbilly Elegy (Ron Howard)- I watched this melodrama at my mother's encouragement, and, though I have been trying to pin down her taste for decades, I think her idea of a successful film just boils down to "a lot of stuff happens." So in that way, Ron Howard's loss is my gain, I guess.

There is no such thing as a "neutral Terminator."

81. Relic (Natalie Erika James)- The star of the film is Vanessa Cerne's set decoration, but the inert music and slow pace cancel out a house that seems neglected slowly over decades.

80. Buffaloed (Tanya Wexler)- Despite a breathless pace, Buffaloed can't quite congeal. In trying to split the difference between local color hijinks and Moneyballed treatise on debt collection, it doesn't commit enough to either one.

Especially since Zoey Deutch produced this one in addition to starring, I'm getting kind of worried about boo's taste. Lot of Two If by Seas; not enough While You Were Sleepings.

79. Like a Boss (Miguel Arteta)- I chuckled a few times at a game supporting cast that is doing heavy lifting. But Like a Boss is contrived from the premise itself--Yeah, what if people in their thirties fell out of friendship? Do y'all need a creative consultant?--to the escalation of most scenes--Why did they have to hide on the roof? Why do they have to jump into the pool?

The movie is lean, but that brevity hurts just as much as it helps. The screenplay knows which scenes are crucial to the development of the friendship, but all of those feel perfunctory, in a different gear from the setpieces.

To pile on a bit: Studio comedies are so bare bones now that they look like Lifetime movies. Arteta brought Chuck & Buck to Sundance twenty years ago, and, shot on Mini-DV for $250,000, it was seen as a DIY call-to-bootstraps. I guarantee that has more setups and locations and shooting days than this.

78. Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga (David Dobkin)- Add Dan Stevens to the list of supporting players who have bodied Will Ferrell in his own movie--one that he cared enough to write himself.

Like Downhill, Ferrell's other 2020 release, this isn't exactly bad. It's just workmanlike and, aside from the joke about Demi Lovato's "uninformed" ghost, frustratingly conventional.

77. The Traitor (Marco Bellochio)- Played with weary commitment by Pierfrancesco Favino, Tomasso Buscetta is "credited" as the first informant of La Cosa Nostra. And that sounds like an interesting subject for a "based on a true story" crime epic, right? Especially when you find out that Buscetta became a rat out of principle: He believed that the mafia to which he had pledged his life had lost its code to the point that it was a different organization altogether.

At no point does Buscetta waver or even seem to struggle with his decision though, so what we get is less conflicted than that description might suggest. None of these Italian mob movies glorify the lifestyle, so I wasn't expecting that. But if the crime doesn't seem enticing, and snitching on the crime seems like forlorn duty, and everything is pitched with such underhanded matter-of-factness that you can't even be sure when Buscetta has flipped, then what are we left with? It was interesting seeing how Italian courts work, I guess?

76. Kajillionaire (Miranda July)- This is another movie so intent on building atmosphere and lore that it takes too long to declare what it is. When the protagonist hits a breaking point and has to act, she has only a third of a film to grow. So whispery too.

Gina Rodriguez is the one to inject life into it. As soon as her motormouth winds up, the film slips into a different gear. The atmosphere and lore that I mentioned reeks of artifice, but her character is believably specific. Beneath a basic exterior is someone who is authentically caring but still morally compromised, beholden to the world that the other characters are suspicious of.

75. Scoob! (Tony Cervone)- The first half is sometimes clever, but it hammers home the importance of friendship while separating the friends.

The second half has some positive messaging, but your kids' movie might have a problem with scale if it involves Alexander the Great unlocking the gates of the Underworld.

My daughter loved it.

74. The Lovebirds (Michael Showalter)- If I start talking too much about this perfectly fine movie, I end up in that unfair stance of reviewing the movie I wanted, not what is actually there.* As a fan of hang-out comedies, I kind of resent that any comedy being made now has to be rolled into something more "exciting," whether it's a wrongfully accused or mistaken identity thriller or some other genre. Such is the post-Game Night world. There's a purposefully anti-climactic note that I wish The Lovebirds had ended on, but of course we have another stretch of hiding behind boats and shooting guns. Nanjiani and Rae are really charming leads though.

*- As a New Orleanian, I was totally distracted by the fake aspects of the setting too. "Oh, they walked to Jefferson from downtown? Really?" You probably won't be bothered by the locations.

73. Sonic the Hedgehog (Jeff Fowler)- In some ways the storytelling is ambitious. (I'm speaking for only myself, but I'm fine with "He's a hedgehog, and he's really fast" instead of the owl mother, teleportation backstory. Not everything has to be Tolkien.) But that ambition doesn't match the lack of ambition in the comedy, which depends upon really hackneyed setups and structures. Guiding Jim Carrey to full alrighty-then mode was the best choice anyone made.

72. Malcolm & Marie (Sam Levinson)- The stars move through these long scenes with agility and charisma, but the degree of difficulty is just too high for this movie to reach what it's going for.

Levinson is trying to capture an epic fight between a couple, and he can harness the theatrical intensity of such a thing, but he sacrifices almost all of the nuance. In real life, these knock-down-drag-outs can be circular and indirect and sad in a way that this couple's manipulation rarely is. If that emotional truth is all this movie is trying to achieve, I feel okay about being harsh in my judgment of how well it does that.

71. Beanpole (Kantemir Balagov)- Elusive in how it refuses to declare itself, forthright in how punishing it is. The whole thing might be worth it for a late dinner scene, but I'm getting a bit old to put myself through this kind of misery.

70. The Burnt Orange Heresy (Giuseppe Capotondi)- Silly in good ways until it's silly in bad ways. Elizabeth Debicki remains 6'3".

69. Everybody’s Everything (Sebastian Jones and Ramez Silyan)- As a person who listened to Lil Peep's music, I can confidently say that this documentary is overstating his greatness. His death was a significant loss, as the interview subjects will all acknowledge, but the documentary is more useful as a portrait of a certain unfocused, rapacious segment of a generation that is high and online at all times.

68. The Witches (Robert Zemeckis)- Robert Zemeckis, Kenya Barris, and Guillermo Del Toro are the credited screenwriters, and in a fascinating way, you can see the imprint of each figure on the final product. Adapting a very European story to the old wives' tales of the American South is an interesting choice. Like the Nicolas Roeg try at this material, Zemeckis is not afraid to veer into the terrifying, and Octavia Spencer's pseudo witch doctor character only sells the supernatural. From a storytelling standpoint though, it seems as if the obstacles are overcome too easily, as if there's a whole leg of the film that has been excised. The framing device and the careful myth-making of the flashback make promises that the hotel half of the film, including the abrupt ending, can't live up to.

If nothing else, Anne Hathaway is a real contender for Most On-One Performance of the year.

67. Irresistible (Jon Stewart)- Despite a sort of imaginative ending, Jon Stewart's screenplay feels more like the declarative screenplay that would get you hired for a good movie, not a good screenplay itself. It's provocative enough, but it's clumsy in some basic ways and never evades the easy joke.

For example, the Topher Grace character is introduced as a sort of assistant, then is re-introduced an hour later as a polling expert, then is shown coaching the candidate on presentation a few scenes later. At some point, Stewart combined characters into one role, but nothing got smoothed out.

ENDEARING CURIOSITIES WITH BIG FLAWS

66. Yes, God, Yes (Karen Maine)- Most people who are Catholic, including me, are conflicted about it. Most people who make movies about being Catholic hate it and have an axe to grind. This film is capable of such knowing wit and nuance when it comes to the lived-in details of attending a high school retreat, but it's more concerned with taking aim at hypocrisy in the broad way that we've seen a million times. By the end, the film is surprisingly all-or-nothing when Christian teenagers actually contain multitudes.

Part of the problem is that Karen Maine's screenplay doesn't know how naive to make the Alice character. Sometimes she's reasonably naive for a high school senior in 2001; sometimes she's comically naive so that the plot can work; and sometimes she's stupid, which isn't the same as naive.

65. Bad Boys for Life (Adil El Arbi and Bilall Fallah)- This might be the first buddy cop movie in which the vets make peace with the tech-comm youngs who use new techniques. If that's the only novelty on display here--and it is--then maybe that's enough. I laughed maybe once. Not that the mistaken identity subplot of Bad Boys 1 is genius or anything, but this entry felt like it needed just one more layer to keep it from feeling as basic as it does. Speaking of layers though, it's almost impossible to watch any Will Smith movie now without viewing it through the meta-narrative of "What is Will Smith actually saying about his own status at this point in his career?" He's serving it up to us.

I derived an inordinate amount of pleasure from seeing the old school Simpson/Bruckheimer logo.

64. The Gentlemen (Guy Ritchie)- Look, I'm not going to be too negative on a movie whose crime slang is so byzantine that it has to be explained with subtitles. That's just me. I'm a simple man. But I can tell you that I tuned out pretty hard after seven or eight double-crosses.

The bloom is off the rose a bit for Ritchie, but he can still nail a music cue. I've been waiting for someone to hit "That's Entertainment" the way he does on the end credits.

63. Bad Hair (Justin Simien)- In Bad Hair, an African-American woman is told by her boss at a music video channel in 1989 that straightening her hair is the way to get ahead; however, her weave ends up having a murderous mind of its own. Compared to that charged, witty logline, the execution of the plot itself feels like a laborious, foregone conclusion. I'm glad that Simien, a genuinely talented writer, is making movies again though. Drop the skin-care routine, Van Der Beek!

62. Greyhound (Aaron Schneider)- "If this is the type of role that Tom Hanks writes for himself, then he understands his status as America's dad--'wise as the serpent, harmless as the dove'--even better than I thought." "America's Dad! Aye aye, sir!" "At least half of the dialogue is there for texture and authenticity, not there to be understood by the audience." "Fifty percent, Captain!" "The environment looks as fake as possible, but I eventually came around to the idea that the movie is completely devoid of subtext." "No subtext to be found, sir!"

61. Mank (David Fincher)- About ten years ago, the Creative Screenwriting podcast spent an hour or so with James Vanderbilt, the writer of Zodiac and nothing else that comes close, as he relayed the creative paces that David Fincher pushed him through. Hundreds of drafts and years of collaborative work eventuated in the blueprint for Fincher's most exacting, personal film, which he didn't get a writing credit on only because he didn't seek one.

Something tells me that Fincher didn't ask for rewrites from his dead father. No matter what visuals and performances the director can coax from the script--and, to be clear, these are the worst visuals and performances of his career--they are limited by the muddy lightweight pages. There are plenty of pleasures, like the slippery election night montage or the shakily platonic relationship between Mank and Marion. But Fincher hadn't made a film in six years, and he came back serving someone else's master.

60. Tesla (Michael Almereyda)- "You live inside your head." "Doesn't everybody?"

As usual, Almereyda's deconstructions are invigorating. (No other moment can match the first time Eve Hewson's Anne fact-checks something with her anachronistic laptop.) But they don't add up to anything satisfying because Tesla himself is such an opaque figure. Driven by the whims of his curiosity without a clear finish line, the character gives Hawke something enigmatic to play as he reaches deep into a baritone. But he's too inward to lend himself to drama. Tesla feels of a piece with Almereyda's The Experimenter, and that's the one I would recommend.

59. Vitalina Varela (Pedro Costa)- I can't oversell how delicately beautiful this film is visually. There's a scene in which Vitalina lugs a lantern into a church, but we get several seconds of total darkness before that one light source carves through it and takes over part of the frame. Each composition is as intricate as it is overpowering, achieving a balance between stark and mannered.

That being said, most of the film is people entering or exiting doors. I felt very little of the haunting loss that I think I was supposed to.

58. The Rhythm Section (Reed Morano)- Call it the Timothy Hutton in The General's Daughter Corollary: If a name-actor isn't in the movie much but gets third billing, then, despite whom he sends the protagonist to kill, he is the Actual Bad Guy.

Even if the movie serves up a lot of cliche, the action and sound design are visceral. I would like to see more from Morano.

57. Red, White and Blue (Steve McQueen)- Well-made and heartfelt even if it goes step-for-step where you think it will.

Here's what I want to know though: In the academy training sequence, the police cadets have to subdue a "berserker"; that is, a wildman who swings at their riot gear with a sledgehammer. Then they get him under control, and he shakes their hands, like, "Good angle you took on me there, mate." Who is that guy and where is his movie? Is this full-time work? Is he a police officer or an independent contractor? What would happen if this exercise didn't go exactly as planned?

56. Wolfwalkers (Tomm Moore and Ross Stewart)- The visuals have an unfinished quality that reminded me of The Tale of Princess Kaguya--the center of a flame is undrawn white, and fog is just negative space. There's an underlying symmetry to the film, and its color palette changes with mood.

Narratively, it's pro forma and drawn-out. Was Riley in Inside Out the last animated protagonist to get two parents? My daughter stuck with it, but she needed a lot of context for the religious atmosphere of 17th century Ireland.

55. What She Said: The Art of Pauline Kael (Rob Garver)- The film does little more than one might expect; it's limited in the way that any visual medium is when trying to sum up a woman of letters. But as far as education for Kael's partnership with Warren Beatty or the idea of The New Yorker paying her for only six months out of the year, it was useful for me.

Although Garver isn't afraid to point to the work that made Kael divisive, it would have been nice to have one or two interview subjects who questioned her greatness, rather than the crew of Paulettes who, even when they do say something like, "Sometimes I radically disagreed with her," do it without being able to point to any specifics.

54. Beastie Boys Story (Spike Jonze)- As far as this Spike Jonze completist is concerned, this is more of a Powerpoint presentation than a movie, Beastie Boys Story still warmed my heart, making me want to fire up Paul's Boutique again and take more pictures of my buddies.

53. Tenet (Christopher Nolan)- Cool and cold, tantalizing and frustrating, loud and indistinct, Tenet comes close to Nolan self-parody, right down to the brutalist architecture and multiple characters styled like him. The setpieces grabbed me, I'll admit.

Nolan's previous film, which is maybe his best, was "about" a lot and just happened to play with time; Tenet is only about playing with time.

PRETTY GOOD MOVIES

52. Shithouse (Cooper Raiff)- "Death is ass."

There's such a thing as too naturalistic. If I wanted to hear how college freshmen really talked, I would hang out with college freshmen. But you have to take the good verisimilitude with the bad, and good verisimilitude is the mother's Pod Save America t-shirt.

There are some poignant moments (and a gonzo performance from Logan Miller) in this auspicious debut from Cooper Raiff, the writer/director/editor/star. But the second party sequence kills some of the momentum, and at a crucial point, the characters spell out some motivation that should have stayed implied.

51. Totally Under Control (Alex Gibney, Ophelia Harutyunyan, Suzanne Hillinger)- As dense and informative as any other Gibney documentary with the added flex of making it during the pandemic it is investigating.

But yeah, why am I watching this right now? I don't need more reasons to be angry with Trump, whom this film calmly eviscerates. The directors analyze Trump's narcissism first through his contradictions of medical expertise in order to protect the economy that could win him re-election. Then it takes aim at his hiring based on loyalty instead of experience. But you already knew that, which is the problem with the film, at least for now.

50. Happiest Season (Clea Duvall)- I was in the perfect mood to watch something this frothy and bouncy. Every secondary character receives a moment in the sun, and Daniel Levy gets a speech that kind of saves the film at a tipping point.

I must say though: I wanted to punch Harper in her stupid face. She is a terrible romantic partner, abandoning or betraying Abby throughout the film and dissembling her entire identity to everyone else in a way that seems absurd for a grown woman in 2020. Run away, Kristen. Perhaps with Aubrey Plaza, whom you have more chemistry with. But there I go shipping and aligning myself with characters, which only proves that this is an effective romantic comedy.

49. The Way Back (Gavin O’Connor)- Patient but misshapen, The Way Back does just enough to overcome the cliches that are sort of unavoidable considering the genre. (I can't get enough of the parent character who, for no good reason, doesn't take his son's success seriously. "Scholarship? What he's gotta do is put his nose in them books! That's why I don't go to his games. [continues moving boxes while not looking at the other character] Now if you'll excuse me while I wait four scenes before showing up at a game to prove that I'm proud of him after all...")

What the movie gets really right or really wrong in the details about coaching and addiction is a total crap-shoot. But maybe I've said too much already.

48. The Whistlers (Corneliu Porumboiu)- Porumboiu is a real artist who seems to be interpreting how much surveillance we're willing to acknowledge and accept, but I won't pretend to have understood much of the plot, the chapters or which are told out of order. Sometimes the structure works--the beguiling, contextless "high-class hooker" sequence--but I often wondered if the film was impenetrable in the way that Porumboiu wanted it to be or impenetrable in the way he didn't.

To tell you the truth, the experience kind of depressed me because I know that, in my younger days, this film is the type of thing that I would re-watch, possibly with the chronology righted, knowing that it is worth understanding fully. But I have two small children, and I'm exhausted all the time, and I kind of thought I should get some credit for still trying to catch up with Romanian crime movies in the first place.

47. Borat Subsequent Moviefilm (Jason Woliner)- I laughed too much to get overly critical, but the film is so episodic and contrived that it's kind of exhausting by the end--even though it's achieving most of its goals. Maybe Borat hasn't changed, but the way our citizens own their ugliness has.

46. First Cow (Kelly Reichardt)- Despite how little happens in the first forty minutes, First Cow is a thoughtful capitalism parable. Even though it takes about forty minutes to get going, the friendship between Cookie and King-Lu is natural and incisive. Like Reichardt's other work, the film's modest premise unfolds quite gracefully, except for in the first forty minutes, which are uneventful.

45. Les Miserables (Ladj Ly)- I loved parts of the film--the disorienting, claustrophobic opening or the quick look at the police officers' home lives, for example. But I'm not sure that it does anything very well. The needle the film tries to thread between realism and theater didn't gel for me. The ending, which is ambiguous in all of the wrong ways, chooses the theatrical. (If I'm being honest, my expectations were built up by Les Miserables' Jury Prize at Cannes, and it's a bit superficial to be in that company.)

If nothing else, it's always helpful to see how another country's worst case scenario in law enforcement would look pretty good over here.

44. Bad Education (Cory Finley)- The film feels too locked-down and small at the beginning, so intent on developing the protagonist neutrally that even the audience isn't aware of his secrets. So when he faces consequences for those secrets, there's a disconnect. Part of tragedy is seeing the doom coming, right?

When it opens up, however, it's empathetic and subtle, full of a dry irony that Finley is already specializing in after only one other feature. Geraldine Viswanathan and Allison Janney get across a lot of interiority that is not on the page.

43. The Trip to Greece (Michael Winterbottom)- By the fourth installment, you know whether you're on board with the franchise. If you're asking "Is this all there is?" to Coogan and Brydon's bickering and impressions as they're served exotic food in picturesque settings, then this one won't sway you. If you're asking "Is this all there is?" about life, like they are, then I don't need to convince you.

I will say that The Trip to Spain seemed like an enervated inflection point, at which the squad could have packed it in. The Trip to Greece proves that they probably need to keep doing this until one of them dies, which has been the subtext all along.

42. Feels Good Man (Arthur Jones)- This documentary centers on innocent artist Matt Furie's helplessness as his Pepe the Frog character gets hijacked by the alt-right. It gets the hard things right. It's able to, quite comprehensively, trace a connection from 4Chan's use of Pepe the Frog to Donald Trump's near-assuming of Pepe's ironic deniability. Director Arthur Jones seems to understand the machinations of the alt-right, and he articulates them chillingly.

The easy thing, making us connect to Furie, is less successful. The film spends way too much time setting up his story, and it makes him look naive as it pits him against Alex Jones in the final third. Still, the film is a quick ninety-two minutes, and the highs are pretty high.

41. The Old Guard (Gina Prince-Bythewood)- Some of the world-building and backstory are handled quite elegantly. The relationships actually do feel centuries old through specific details, and the immortal conceit comes together for an innovative final action sequence.

Visually and musically though, the film feels flat in a way that Prince-Bythewood's other films do not. I blame Netflix specs. KiKi Layne, who tanked If Beale Street Could Talk for me, nearly ruins this too with the child-actory way that she stresses one word per line. Especially in relief with one of our more effortless actresses, Layne is distracting.

40. The Trial of the Chicago 7 (Aaron Sorkin)- Whenever Sacha Baron Cohen's Abbie Hoffman opens his mouth, the other defendants brace themselves for his dismissive vulgarity. Even when it's going to hurt him, he can't help but shoot off at the mouth. Of course, he reveals his passionate and intelligent depths as the trial goes on. The character is the one that Sorkin's screenplay seems the most endeared to: In the same way that Hoffman can't help but be Hoffman, Sorkin can't help but be Sorkin. Maybe we don't need a speech there; maybe we don't have to stretch past two hours; maybe a bon mot diffuses the tension. But we know exactly what to expect by now. The film is relevant, astute, witty, benevolent, and, of course, in love with itself. There are a handful of scenes here that are perfect, so I feel bad for qualifying so much.

A smaller point: Daniel Pemberton has done great work in the past (Motherless Brooklyn, King Arthur, The Man from U.N.C.L.E.), but the first sequence is especially marred by his sterile soft-rock approach.

GOOD MOVIES

39. Time (Garrett Bradley)- The key to Time is that it provides very little context. Why the patriarch of this family is serving sixty years in prison is sort of besides the point philosophically. His wife and sons have to move on without him, and the tragedy baked into that fact eclipses any notion of what he "deserved." Feeling the weight of time as we switch back and forth between a kid talking about his first day of kindergarten and that same kid graduating from dentistry school is all the context we need. Time's presentation can be quite sumptuous: The drone shot of Angola makes its buildings look like crosses. Or is it X's?

At the same time, I need some context. When director Garrett Bradley withholds the reason Robert's in prison, and when she really withholds that Fox took a plea and served twelve years, you start to see the strings a bit. You could argue that knowing so little about why, all of a sudden, Robert can be on parole puts you into the same confused shoes as the family, but it feels manipulative to me. The film is preaching to the choir as far as criminal justice goes, which is fine, but I want it to have the confidence to tell its story above board.

38. Bloody Nose, Empty Pockets (Turner Ross and Bill Ross IV)- I have a barfly friend whom I see maybe once a year. When we first set up a time to meet, I kind of dread it and wonder what we'll have to talk about. Once we do get together, we trip on each other's words a bit, fumbling around with the rhythm of conversation that we mastered decades ago. He makes some kind of joke that could have been appropriate then but isn't now.

By the end of the day, hours later, we're hugging and maybe crying as we promise each other that we won't wait as long next time.

That's the exact same journey that I went on with this film.

37. Underwater (William Eubank)- Underwater is a story that you've seen before, but it's told with great confidence and economy. I looked up at twelve minutes and couldn't believe the whole table had been set. Kristen plays Ripley and projects a smart, benevolent poise.

36. The Lodge (Veronika Franz and Severin Fiala)- I prefer the grounded, manicured first half to the more fantastic second half. The craziness of the latter is only possible through the hard work of the former though. As with Fiala and Franz's previous feature, the visual rhymes and motifs get incorporated into the soup so carefully that you don't realize it until they overwhelm you in their bleak glory.

Small note: Alicia Silverstone, the male lead's first wife, and Riley Keough, his new partner, look sort of similar. I always think that's a nice note: "I could see how he would go for her."

35. Miss Americana (Lana Wilson)- I liked it when I saw it as a portrait of a person whose life is largely decided for her but is trying to carve out personal spaces within that hamster wheel. I loved it when I realized that describes most successful people in their twenties.

34. Sound of Metal (Darius Marder)- Riz Ahmed is showing up on all of the best performances of the year lists, but Sound of Metal isn't in anyone's top ten films of the year. That's about right. Ahmed's is a quiet, stubborn performance that I wish was in service of more than the straight line that we've seen before.

In two big scenes, there's this trick that Ahmed does, a piecing together of consequences with his eyes, as if he's moving through a flow chart in real time. In both cases, the character seems locked out and a little slower than he should be, which is, of course, why he's facing the consequences in the first place. To be charitable to a film that was a bit of a grind, it did make me notice a thing a guy did with his eyes.

33. Pieces of a Woman (Kornel Mundruczo)- Usually when I leave acting showcases like this, I imagine the film without the Oscar-baiting speeches, but this is a movie that specializes in speeches. Pieces of a Woman is being judged, deservedly so, by the harrowing twenty-minute take that opens the film, which is as indulgent as it is necessary. But if the unbroken take provides the "what," then the speeches provide the "why."

This is a film about reclaiming one's body when it rebels against you and when other people seek ownership of it. Without the Ellen Burstyn "lift your head" speech or the Vanessa Kirby show-stopper in the courtroom, I'm not sure any of that comes across.

I do think the film lets us off the hook a bit with the LaBoeuf character, in the sense that it gives us reasons to dislike him when it would be more compelling if he had done nothing wrong. Does his half-remembering of the White Stripes count as a speech?

32. Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom (George C. Wolfe)- This is such a play, not only in the locked-down location but also through nearly every storytelling convention: "Where are the two most interesting characters? Oh, running late? They'll enter separately in animated fashion?" But, to use the type of phrase that the characters might, "Don't hate the player; hate the game."

Perhaps the most theatrical note in this treatise on the commodification of expression is the way that, two or three times, the proceedings stop in their tracks for the piece to declare loudly what it's about. In one of those clear-outs, Boseman, who looks distractingly sick, delivers an unforgettable monologue that transports the audience into his character's fragile, haunted mind. He and Viola Davis are so good that the film sort of buckles under their weight, unsure of how to transition out of those spotlight moments and pretend that the story can start back up. Whatever they're doing is more interesting than what's being achieved overall.

31. Another Round (Thomas Vinterberg)- It's definitely the film that Vinterberg wanted to make, but despite what I think is a quietly shattering performance from Mikkelsen, Another Round moves in a bit too much of a straight line to grab me fully. The joyous final minutes hint at where it could have gone, as do pockets of Vinterberg's filmography, which seems newly tethered to realism in a way that I don't like. The best sequences are the wildest ones, like the uproarious trip to the grocery store for fresh cod, so I don't know why so much of it takes place in tiny hallways at magic hour. I give the inevitable American remake* permission to use these notes.

*- Just spitballing here. Martin: Will Ferrell, Nikolaj (Nick): Ben Stiller, Tommy: Owen Wilson, Peter: Craig Robinson

30. The Invisible Man (Leigh Whannell)- Exactly what I wanted. Exactly what I needed.

I think a less conclusive finale would have been better, but what a model of high-concept escalation. This is the movie people convinced me Whannell's Upgrade was.

29. On the Rocks (Sofia Coppola)- Slight until the Mexican sojourn, which expands the scope and makes the film even more psychosexual than before. At times it feels as if Coppola is actively simplifying, rather than diving into the race and privilege questions that the Murray character all but demands.

As for Murray, is the film 50% worse without him? 70%? I don't know if you can run in supporting categories if you're the whole reason the film exists.

28. Mangrove (Steve McQueen)- The first part of the film seemed repetitive and broad to me. But once it settled in as a courtroom drama, the characterization became more shaded, and the filmmaking itself seemed more fluid. I ended up being quite outraged and inspired.

27. Shirley (Josephine Decker)- Josephine Decker emerges as a real stylist here, changing her foggy, impressionistic approach not one bit with a little more budget. Period piece and established actors be damned--this is still as much of a reeling fever dream as Madeline's Madeline. Both pieces are a bit too repetitive and nasty for my taste, but I respect the technique.

Here's my mandatory "Elisabeth Moss is the best" paragraph. While watching her performance as Shirley Jackson, I thought about her most famous role as Peggy on Mad Men, whose inertia and need to prove herself tied her into confidence knots. Shirley is almost the opposite: paralyzed by her worldview, certain of her talent, rejecting any empathy. If Moss can inhabit both characters so convincingly, she can do anything.

26. An American Pickle (Brandon Trost)- An American Pickle is the rare comedy that could actually use five or ten extra minutes, but it's a surprisingly heartfelt and wholesome stretch for Rogen, who is earnest in the lead roles.

25. The King of Staten Island (Judd Apatow)- At two hours and fifteen minutes, The King of Staten Island is probably the first Judd Apatow film that feels like the exact right length. For example, the baggy date scene between a gracious Bill Burr and a faux-dowdy Marisa Tomei is essential, the sort of widening of perspective that something like Trainwreck was missing.

It's Pete Davidson's movie, however, and though he has never been my cup of tea, I think he's actually quite powerful in his quiet moments. The movie probes some rare territory--a mentally ill man's suspicion that he is unlovable, a family's strategic myth-making out of respect for the dead. And when Davidson shows up at the firehouse an hour and fifteen minutes in, it feels as if we've built to a last resort.

24. Swallow (Carlo Mirabella-Davis)- The tricky part of this film is communicating Hunter's despair, letting her isolation mount, but still keeping her opaque. It takes a lot of visual discipline to do that, and Claudio Mirabella-Davis is up to the task. This ends up being a much more sympathetic, expressive movie than the plot description might suggest.

(In the tie dispute, Hunter and Richie are both wrong. That type of silk--I couldn't tell how pebbled it was, but it's probably a barathea weave-- shouldn't be ironed directly, but it doesn't have to be steamed. On a low setting, you could iron the back of the tie and be fine.)

23. The Vast of Night (Andrew Patterson)- I wanted a bit more "there" there; The film goes exactly where I thought it would, and there isn't enough humor for my taste. (The predictability might be a feature, not a bug, since the film is positioned as an episode of a well-worn Twilight Zone-esque show.)

But from a directorial standpoint, this is quite a promising debut. Patterson knows when to lock down or use silence--he even cuts to black to force us to listen more closely to a monologue. But he also knows when to fill the silence. There's a minute or so when Everett is spooling tape, and he and Fay make small talk about their hopes for the future, developing the characters' personalities in what could have been just mechanics. It's also a refreshingly earnest film. No one is winking at the '50s setting.

I'm tempted to write, "If Andrew Patterson can make this with $1 million, just imagine what he can do with $30 million." But maybe people like Shane Carruth have taught us that Patterson is better off pinching pennies in Texas and following his own muse.

22. Martin Eden (Pietro Marcello)- At first this film, adapted from a picaresque novel by Jack London, seemed as if it was hitting the marks of the genre. "He's going from job to job and meeting dudes who are shaping his worldview now." But the film, shot in lustrous Super 16, won me over as it owned the trappings of this type of story, forming a character who is a product of his environment even as he transcends it. By the end, I really felt the weight of time.

You want to talk about something that works better in novels than films though? When a passionate, independent protagonist insists that a woman is the love of his life, despite the fact that she's whatever Italians call a wet blanket. She's rich, but Martin doesn't care about her money. He hates her family and friends, and she refuses to accept him or his life pursuits. She's pretty but not even as pretty as the waitress they discuss. Tell me what I'm missing here. There's archetype, and there's incoherence.

21. Bacurau (Kleber Mendonca Filho and Juliano Dornelles)- Certain images from this adventurous film will stick with me, but I got worn out after the hard reset halfway through. As entranced as I was by the mystery of the first half, I think this blood-soaked ensemble is better at asking questions than it is at answering them.

20. Let Them All Talk (Steven Soderbergh)- The initial appeal of this movie might be "Look at these wonderful actresses in their seventies getting a movie all to themselves." And the film is an interesting portrait of ladies taking stock of relationships that have spanned decades. But Soderbergh and Eisenberg handle the twentysomething Lucas Hedges character with the same openness and empathy. His early reasoning for going on the trip is that he wants to learn from older women, and Hedges nails the puppy-dog quality of a young man who would believe that. Especially in the scenes of aspirational romance, he's sweet and earnest as he brushes his hair out of his face.

Streep plays Alice Hughes, a serious author of literary fiction, and she crosses paths with Kelvin Kranz, a grinder of airport thrillers. In all of the right ways, Let Them All Talk toes the line between those two stances as an entertaining, jaunty experiment that also shoulders subtextual weight. If nothing else, it's easy to see why a cruise ship's counterfeit opulence, its straight lines at a lean, would be visually engaging to Soderbergh. You can't have a return to form if your form is constantly evolving.

19. Dick Johnson Is Dead (Kirsten Johnson)- Understandably, I don't find the subject as interesting as his own daughter does, and large swaths of this film are unsure of what they're trying to say. But that's sort of the point, and the active wrestling that the film engages in with death ultimately pays off in a transcendent moment. The jaw-dropping ending is something that only non-fiction film can achieve, and Johnson's whole career is about the search for that sort of serendipity.

18. Da 5 Bloods (Spike Lee)- Delroy Lindo is a live-wire, but his character is the only one of the principals who is examined with the psychological depth I was hoping for. The first half, with all of its present-tense flourishes, promises more than the gunfights of the second half can deliver. When the film is cooking though, it's chock full of surprises, provocations, and pride.

17. Never Rarely Sometimes Always (Eliza Hittmann)- Very quickly, Eliza Hittmann has established herself as an astute, empathetic director with an eye for discovering new talent. I hope that she gets to make fifty more movies in which she objectively follows laconic young people. But I wanted to like this one more than I did. The approach is so neutral that it's almost flat to me, lacking the arc and catharsis of her previous film, Beach Rats. I still appreciate her restraint though.

GREAT MOVIES

16. Young Ahmed (Jean-Pierre Dardenne and Luc Dardenne)- I don't think the Dardennes have made a bad movie yet, and I'm glad they turned away from the slight genre dipping of The Unknown Girl, the closest to bad that they got. Young Ahmed is a lean, daring return to form.

Instead of following an average person, as they normally do, the Dardenne Brothers follow an extremist, and the objectivity that usually generates pathos now serves to present ambiguity. Ahmed says that he is changing, that he regrets his actions, but we never know how much of his stance is a put-on. I found myself wanting him to reform, more involved than I usually am in these slices of life. Part of it is that Idir Ben Addi looks like such a normal, young kid, and the Ahmed character has most of the qualities that we say we want in young people: principles, commitment, self-worth, reflection. So it's that much more destructive when those qualities are used against him and against his fellow man.

15. World of Tomorrow Episode Three: The Absent Destinations of David Prime (Don Hertzfeldt)- My dad, a man whom I love but will never understand, has dismissed modern music before by claiming that there are only so many combinations of chords. To him, it's almost impossible to do something new. Of course, this is the type of thing that an uncreative person would say--a person not only incapable of hearing the chords that combine notes but also unwilling to hear the space between the notes. (And obviously, that's the take of a person who doesn't understand that, originality be damned, some people just have to create.)

Anyway, that attitude creeps into my own thinking more than I would like, but then I watch something as wholly original as World of Tomorrow Episode Three. The series has always been a way to pile sci-fi ideas on top of each other to prove the essential truths of being and loving. And this one, even though it achieves less of a sense of yearning than its predecessor, offers even more devices to chew on. Take, for example, the idea that Emily sends her message from the future, so David's primitive technology can barely handle it. In order to move forward with its sophistication, he has to delete any extraneous skills for the sake of computer memory. So out of trust for this person who loves him, he has to weigh whether his own breathing or walking can be uninstalled as a sacrifice for her. I thought that we might have been done describing love, but there it is, a new metaphor. Mixing futurism with stick figures to get at the most pure drive possible gave us something new. It's called art, Dad.

14. On the Record (Kirby Dick and Amy Ziering)- We don't call subjects of documentaries "stars" for obvious reasons, but Drew Dixon kind of is one. Her honesty and wisdom tell a complete story of the #MeToo movement. Kirby Dick and Amy Ziering take their time developing her background at first, not because we need to "gain sympathy" or "establish credibility" for a victim of sexual abuse, but because showing her talent and enthusiasm for hip-hop A&R makes it that much more tragic when her passion is extinguished. Hell, I just like the woman, so spending a half-hour on her rise was pleasurable in and of itself.

This is a gut-wrenching, fearless entry in what is becoming Dick and Ziering's raison d'etre, but its greatest quality is Dixon's composed reflection. She helped to establish a pattern of Russell Simmons's behavior, but she explains what happened to her in ways I had never heard before.

13. David Byrne’s American Utopia (Spike Lee)- I'm often impressed by the achievements that puzzle me: How did they pull that off? But I know exactly how David Byrne pulled off the impish but direct precision of American Utopia: a lot of hard work.

I can't blame Spike Lee for stealing a page from Demme's Stop Making Sense: He denies us a close-up of any audience members until two-thirds of the way through, when we get someone in absolute rapture.

12. One Night in Miami... (Regina King)- We've all cringed when a person of color is put into the position of speaking on behalf of his or her entire race. But the characters in One Night in Miami... live in that condition all the time and are constantly negotiating it. As Black public figures in 1964, they know that the consequences of their actions are different, bigger, than everyone else's. The charged conversations between Malcolm X and Sam Cooke are not about whether they can live normal lives. They're way past that. The stakes are closer to Sam Cooke arguing that his life's purpose aligns with the protection and elevation of African-Americans while Malcolm X argues that those pursuits should be the same thing. Late in the movie, Cassius Clay leaves the other men, a private conversation, to talk to reporters, a public conversation. But the film argues that everything these men do is always already public. They're the most powerful African-Americans in the country, but their lives are not their own. Or not only their own.

It's true that the first act has the clunkiness and artifice of a TV movie, but once the film settles into the motel room location and lets the characters feed off one another, it's gripping. It's kind of unfair for a movie to get this many scenes of Leslie Odom Jr. singing, but I'll take it.

11. Saint Frances (Alex Thompson)- Rilke wrote, "Perhaps everything terrible is in its deepest being something helpless that wants help from us." The characters' behavior in Saint Frances--all of these fully formed characters' behavior--made me think of that quotation. When they lash out at one another, even at their nastiest, the viewer has a window into how they're expressing pain they can't verbalize. The film is uneven in its subtlety, but it's a real showcase for screenwriter and star Kelly O'Sullivan, who is unflinching and dynamic in one of the best performances of the year. Somebody give her some of the attention we gave to Zach Braff for God's sake.

10. Boys State (Jesse Moss and Amanda McBaine)- This documentary is kind of a miracle from a logistical standpoint. From casting interviews beforehand, lots of editing afterwards, or sly note-taking once the conference began, McBaine and Moss happened to select the four principals who mattered the most at the convention, then found them in rooms full of dudes wearing the same tucked-in t-shirt. By the way, all of the action took place over the course of one week, and by definition, the important events are carved in half.

To call Boys State a microcosm of American politics is incorrect. These guys are forming platforms and voting in elections. What they're doing is American politics, so when they make the same compromises and mistakes that active politicians do, it produces dread and disappointment. So many of the boys are mimicking the political theater that they see on TV, and that sweaty sort of performance is going to make a Billy Mitchell out of this kid Ben Feinstein, and we'll be forced to reckon with how much we allow him to evolve as a person. This film is so precise, but what it proves is undeniably messy. Luckily, some of these seventeen-year-olds usher in hope for us all.

If nothing else, the film reveals the level to which we're all speaking in code.

9. The Nest (Sean Durkin)- In the first ten minutes or so of The Nest, the only real happy minutes, father and son are playing soccer in their quaint backyard, and the father cheats to score on a children's net before sliding on the grass to rub in his victory. An hour later, the son kicks the ball around by himself near a regulation goal on the family's massive property. The contrast is stark and obvious, as is the symbolism of the dead horse, but that doesn't mean it's not visually powerful or resonant.

Like Sean Durkin's earlier film, Martha Marcy May Marlene, the whole of The Nest is told with detail of novelistic scope and an elevation of the moment. A snippet of radio that mentions Ronald Reagan sets the time period, rather than a dateline. One kid saying "Thanks, Dad" and another kid saying, "Thanks, Rory" establishes a stepchild more elegantly than any other exposition might.

But this is also a movie that does not hide what it means. Characters usually say exactly what is on their minds, and motivations are always clear. For example, Allison smokes like a chimney, so her daughter's way of acting out is leaving butts on the window sill for her mother to find. (And mother and daughter both definitely "act out" their feelings.) On the other hand, Ben, Rory's biological son, is the character least like him, so these relationships aren't too directly parallel. Regardless, Durkin uses these trajectories to cast a pall of familial doom.

8. Sorry We Missed You (Sean Durkin)- Another precisely calibrated empathy machine from Ken Loach. The overwhelmed matriarch, Abby, is a caretaker, and she has to break up a Saturday dinner to rescue one of her clients, who wet herself because no one came to help her to the bathroom. The lady is embarrassed, and Abby calms her down by saying, "You mean more to me than you know." We know enough about Abby's circumstances to realize that it's sort of a lie, but it's a beautiful lie, told by a person who cares deeply but is not cared for.

Loach's central point is that the health of a family, something we think of as immutable and timeless, is directly dependent upon the modern industry that we use to destroy ourselves. He doesn't have to be "proven" relevant, and he didn't plan for Covid-19 to point to the fragility of the gig economy, but when you're right, you're right.

7. Lovers Rock (Steve McQueen)- swear to you I thought: "This is an impeccable depiction of a great house party. The only thing it's missing is the volatile dude who scares away all the girls." And then the volatile dude who scares away all the girls shows up.

In a year short on magic, there are two or three transcendent moments, but none of them can equal the whole crowd singing along to "Silly Games" way after the song has ended. Nothing else crystallizes the film's note of celebration: of music, of community, of safe spaces, of Black skin. I remember moments like that at house parties, and like all celebrations, they eventually make me sad.

6. Crip Camp: A Disability Revolution (Nicole Newnham and James Lebrecht)- I held off on this movie because I thought that I knew what it was. The setup was what I expected: A summer camp for the disabled in the late '60s takes on the spirit of the time and becomes a haven for people who have not felt agency, self-worth, or community anywhere else. But that's the right-place-right-time start of a story that takes these figures into the '80s as they fight for their rights.

If you're anything like my dumb ass, you know about 504 accommodations from the line on a college syllabus that promises equal treatment. If 2020 has taught us anything though, it's that rights are seized, not given, and this is the inspiring story of people who unified to demand what they deserved. Judy Heumann is a civil rights giant, but I'm ashamed to say I didn't know who she was before this film. If it were just a history lesson that wasn't taught in school, Crip Camp would still be valuable, but it's way more than that.

5. Palm Springs (Max Barbakow)- When explaining what is happening to them, Andy Samberg's Nyles twirls his hand at Cristin Milioti's Sara and says, "It's one of those infinite time-loop scenarios." Yeah, one of those. Armed with only a handful of fictional examples, she and the audience know exactly what he means, and the continually inventive screenplay by Andy Siara doesn't have to do any more explaining. In record time, the film accelerates into its premise, involves her, and sets up the conflict while avoiding the claustrophobia of even Groundhog Day. That economy is the strength that allows it to be as funny as it is. By being thrifty with the setup, the savings can go to, say, the couple crashing a plane into a fiery heap with no consequences.

In some accidental ways, this is, of course, a quarantine romance as well. Nyles and Sara frustratingly navigate the tedious wedding as if they are play-acting--which they sort of are--then they push through that sameness to grow for each other, realizing that dependency is not weakness. The best relationships are doing the same thing right now.

Although pointedly superficial--part of the point of why the couple is such a match--and secular--I think the notion of an afterlife would come up at least once--Palm Springs earns the sincerity that it gets around to. And for a movie ironic enough to have a character beg to be impaled so that he doesn't have to sit in traffic, that's no small feat.

4. The Assistant (Kitty Green)- A wonder of Bressonian objectivity and rich observation, The Assistant is the rare film that deals exclusively with emotional depth while not once explaining any emotions. One at a time, the scrape of the Kleenex box might not be so grating, the long hallway trek to the delivery guy might not be so tiring, but this movie gets at the details of how a job can destroy you in ways that add up until you can't even explain them.

3. Promising Young Woman (Emerald Fennell)- In her most incendiary and modern role, Carey Mulligan plays Cassie, which is short for Cassandra, that figure doomed to tell truths that no one else believes. The web-belted boogeyman who ruined her life is Al, short for Alexander, another Greek who is known for his conquests. The revenge story being told here--funny in its darkest moments, dark in its funniest moments--is tight on its surface levels, but it feels as if it's telling a story more archetypal and expansive than that too.

An exciting feature debut for its writer-director Emerald Fennell, the film goes wherever it dares. Its hero has a clear purpose, and it's not surprising that the script is willing to extinguish her anger halfway through. What is surprising is the way it renews and muddies her purpose as she comes into contact with half-a-dozen brilliant one- or two-scene performances. (Do you think Alfred Molina can pull off a lawyer who hates himself so much that he can't sleep? You would be right.)

Promising Young Woman delivers as an interrogation of double standards and rape culture, but in quiet ways it's also about our outsized trust in professionals and the notion that some trauma cannot be overcome.

INSTANT CLASSICS

2. Soul (Pete Docter)- When Pete Docter's Up came out, it represented a sort of coronation for Pixar: This was the one that adults could like unabashedly. The one with wordless sequences and dead children and Ed Asner in the lead. But watching it again this week with my daughter, I was surprised by how high-concept and cloying it could be. We choose not to remember the middle part with the goofy dog stuff.

Soul is what Up was supposed to be: honest, mature, stirring. And I don't mean to imply that a family film shouldn't make any concessions to children. But Soul, down to the title, never compromises its own ambition. Besides Coco, it's probably the most credible character study that Pixar has ever made, with all of Joe's growth earned the hard way. Besides Inside Out, it's probably the wittiest comedy that Pixar has ever made, bursting with unforced energy.

There's a twitter fascination going around about Dez, the pigeon-figured barber character whose scene has people gushing, "Crush my windpipe, king" or whatever. Maybe that's what twitter does now, but no one fantasized about any characters in Up. And I count that as progress.

1. I’m Thinking of Ending Things (Charlie Kaufman)- After hearing that our name-shifting protagonist moonlights as an artist, a no-nonsense David Thewlis offers, "I hope you're not an abstract artist." He prefers "paintings that look like photographs" over non-representational mumbo-jumbo. And as Jessie Buckley squirms to try to think of a polite way to talk back, you can tell that Charlie Kaufman has been in the crosshairs of this same conversation. This morose, scary, inscrutable, expressionist rumination is not what the Netflix description says it is at all, and it's going to bother nice people looking for a fun night in. Thank God.

The story goes that Steven Spielberg and George Lucas, when constructing Raiders of the Lost Ark, sought to craft a movie that was "only the good parts" with little of the clunky setup that distracted from action. What we have here is a Charlie Kaufman movie with only the Charlie Kaufman moments, less interested than ever before at holding one's hand. The biting humor is here, sometimes aimed at philistines like the David Thewlis character above, sometimes at the niceties that we insist upon. The lonely horror of everyday life is here, in the form of missed calls from oneself or the interruption of an inner monologue. Of course, communicating the overwhelming crush of time, both unknowable and familiar, is the raison d'etre.

A new pet motif seems to be the way that we don't even own our own knowledge. The Young Woman recites "Bonedog" by Eva H.D., which she claims/thinks she wrote, only to find Jake's book open to that page, next to a Pauline Kael book that contains a Woman Under the Influence review that she seems to have internalized later. When Jake muses about Wordsworth's "Lucy Poems," it starts as a way to pass the time, then it becomes a way to lord his education over her, then it becomes a compliment because the subject resembles her, then it becomes a way to let her know that, in the grand scheme of things, she isn't that special at all. This film jerks the viewer through a similar wintry cycle and leaves him with his own thoughts. It's not a pretty picture, but it doesn't look like anything else.

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savnofilter · 5 years ago

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plzz, grow up. youre always complaining about how hard you hav it when there are so much worse that could happening. starvation, illiteracy, bullying, physical abuse, etc. and youre sad bcuz you feel insecure? as a person, youre actually quite mean. people like you make me sick.

You know, if you really had your money at your words you would’ve done this off Anonymous but you’re clearly a pussy ass bitch to do so. Since you think I’m a bitch or an asshole or an asswipe (whichever you’d like to prefer), I just wanted to water your crops and respond to you in that manner. You’re welcome. I will write you an essay since you’re just an angry fan who wants attention.

1. There’s a reason why I haven’t properly stated my reasons for being like I am the way I am, but since you want to be all up in my coochie hairs, this is my business.

- losses in the family.

- stresses of school.

- responsibilities i have to take care of because I can’t just drop out because i “feel insecure”.

- wanting to reach out but my feelings and thoughts are always twisted because I am shit at words/or seen as stupid reasons to be upset.

- legit being called a rape apologist that triggered me from past experiences, sent my already deteriorating mental health into shit hole.

- being body shamed at a place that felt second home at.

- wanting to do my favourite hobby on earth but not being able to do it because I have no energy for it/not wanting to leave my followers hanging who are excited for things and not post at all (which I’ve been doing but I sincerely apologize).

2. What the fuck makes you think I have never struggled before? I am genuinely curious. Because I can write? Because I try to be nice to people on my blog? Because until now I don’t hide that yeah, I’m not in the best place? You’re such an asshole for even trying to invalidate my feelings and its happened way too many times in my life to let someone like you even attempt to do it. Maybe you’re attacking me because I am young. Maybe you’re attacking me because you need to blow off some steam.

I legit don’t know what your reason is, but YOU need to grow up LMAO like your ass in ANONYMOUS right now kik like whaaaaaat. My cock isn’t yours so hop off it okay? Never called you my slut but you all up in my pussy boy.

3. Also to further my point in bullet one, why is it that I can’t feel insecure? It’s not like I wake up with a mental breakdown not feeling myself on purpose. It’s not like I wake up and go “okay what can I be depressed about today” – because quite frankly if I had the choice guess what? I wouldn’t choose it lmao.

Just like many artists like Billie Eilish, what’s wrong with admitting that you aren’t okay? Like how is that immature? The first step to the healing process is to know the issue, second step is finding out the root of the problem. Since I know myself, me saying that is basically a forewarning like “my emotions are fucked up at the moment, so I might be an asshole because what the fuck are feelings?”.

And you know what? When you’re often a second choice, or someone shows absolute affection towards you and makes it seem you’re the only one then they do it to everyone else then yeah it does get to you. But from what I’ve read, you’re too much of a pretentious bitch to have ever experienced that and people probably bend to everything you say and that is why you don’t like me. I don’t act the way you want me to. And you were probably the one all up in my inbox asking me age like a creepy bitch like that is none of your flip flacking fucking business (apologies if the anon who asked that isn’t, its weird. dont do it lol).

4. Yeah I make you sick? I’m mean? Since you have not provided any statements nor receipts for me too refute, yeah everyone can be a bitch. I mean just look at you sugar. Anyways, I will be showing the pros and cons of talking to me, so you know, people like you,,, don’t,,,,, get,,,,,, sick,,,,,,,,

pros:

I am nice - unlike popular belief or your opinion and no, not to be cliche. yeah sometimes when i talk its like “… why the fuck would you say that?” because sometimes I just don’t know. So it’s better to tell someone then I’m sitting here like

after it hits the fan.

I am very supportive - bro, you having a hard time? Hold up where is the remaining of my happy energy to give to you! You need a heart meme? Writing piece? Like I got you. Feel like your stuff isn’t worth it? You don’t feel worth it? I got you. Like no cap.

Loyal - you give me the same energy, I vibe it back to you love. That’s all. You shower me in love, I shower you in love. You never forget me or always talk to me, I do the same. It’s how you do it babe.

cons:

there’s a reason why my blog name is “savnofilter” - and imma explain it good. Well here’s a backstory ain’t nobody asked for so here it is.

So in 7th grade, moved to my new town I live in – shit at first kinda alright now. We had this assignment in our poetry unit, and that was to get the class divided and have a rap battle and whoever won I don’t fucking know got extra credit or some shit (my brain is old at this point, can’t remember shit lol). So in this assignment, we had to make, a rapper name. And I wanted it to be cringey (yes, that was the vocabulary used-). I had to think long and hard because mane I ain’t ever thought of shit like that until my friend was like, “hey, why don’t you go with savage because you say wild things and don’t care” and I was like,,,,, oh shit mane, U RIGHT. Then I was like, that isn’t enough. I need more, more flare. So I dozed off then sat up like “oKAY A CONCEPT THO, HOW ABOUT NO FILTER?! SAvage… No Filter? Saying it out loud sounds like absolute rubbish.” So I had to think again, what name clicks?

I had already locked in that I have no filter because I don’t give a fuck, so whats next?Sav[redacted]nofilter (blurred because you’d be able to find me somewhere NOT related to writing LMAO). So yeah, because I’m a savage. I genuinely do not care what I am saying. And no, not in a way that I’m saying something insensitive and going “its mah trademark!” its because I don’t care. I’m a savage with no filter.

If you piss me off or ignore what I’ve said or belittled me – whatever I will not hold back! period! - I dont have much explaining for that but there it is. take it how you will.

I am piss poor shit at words - I know plenty of you will read this and be like “but u write? 👁️👄👁️”. So you guys know those people who need like a puppet to speak properly, or sing so they don’t stutter? That’s basically me. If it’s not an actual work or anything I can’t comprehendddddd. Then again I’ve learned to just hold on my feelings since I use to be a crybaby and such. I just horde my feelings until they get worse, like now. I’ve now just realized this so I’ll be talking with my therapist into easing me into sharing how I feel. Which furthers my next point -

I have constipated feelings - so, you can say, that my feelings a shit (y'all saw what I did there LMAOOOOO).

I vibe with how you vibe with me - pro if you do it right, con if you do it wrong. My mum has always said that I tap into peoples energies too much, but its because I like helping people, I like helping people feel secure and everything is alright but it backfires when someone isn’t giving me the same energy.

At this point, I’m not mad anymore. I know who wrote this anyways by the end of this so I apologize for my language earlier ;;. If you truly wanted to speak with me, I would’ve appreciated it lol. I’m just hurt you chose to do it in such a destructive manner, even including someone else in it as well.

oh oh!! yes, i get vague visions of who be all up in my inbox so theres that. thisll be last time i take anyone serious on anon, so future anons you can cuss em out if youd like lol.

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thegreatdivorce · 5 years ago

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There and back again...

This post is about a lot of things, but it’s mainly about my love for Faramir and Eowyn… and about how the book is always better than the movie. But we have to go back a lil before we can start.

I read Lord of the Rings for the first time when I was 14 years old. It took me a long time to get through it. I think a whole year, maybe more. I had trouble for a few reasons: one, it’s a big story for a young reader, and two, my motivation was probably in the wrong place. I grew up on a healthy diet of C. S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien, my dad read the Chronicles of Narnia series to me as a kid and I read The Hobbit (on my dad’s special collectors edition) not long after that, but I never made it to Lord of the Rings until the films came out. And I only really read the books then because I loved the films so much. Let me repeat that with more emphasis, I loved. these films. so. much. I could recite lines from the movies, yes, but I could also recite lines from the commentary the cast created for each extended edition. I can still recall the jokes, pranks, and memories the cast hold dear almost as if I had lived through them myself as the 10th member of the fellowship. I still call David Wenham ‘Daisy Wenham,’ and if the word ‘wig’ appears in conversation my brain immediately goes to, “your hair changes dramatically from short to long… do you wear wigs?” If you don’t know what I’m talking about, you are not a true fan of the film series. It meant so much to me when I was younger that I think I started the books as a way to stay in that world a lil longer. And I guess constantly comparing the books to a beloved film series is not the best way to read because I didn’t enjoy them as much as I thought I would. To be clear, I didn’t dislike the books, Return of the Kings marks one of the few books to make me cry (Theoden’s death got to me), but the books didn’t impact me in the same way the films did.

Fast forward some 13 years later and something, I’m not exactly sure what, convinced me to read the books again. I have a long book list, one that I am sorely behind on, so choosing a 1000+ page saga (one that I’ve already read before) while other books are waiting to be cracked open for the first time was probably not the most productive decision I’ve made, but I regret nothing. I still own the same copy of LOTR I owned when I first read the series and man, there’s something about the smell of a book that can bring you right back to where you were when you first opened it because that’s exactly what happened when I started re-reading it. There is something nice about feeling like you’re 14 again… feeling like your whole life is ahead of you, but the only thing you have to worry about is reading this one book.

Although the smell of the book felt the same, other things felt different. Aragorn does not struggle at all with the idea of his kingship like Viggo does in the film, Sam feels a bit more of a simpleton in the books, and Frodo seems older and wiser than the 19-year-old Elijah Wood feels in the movies. All of these things are small differences and as I was reading book one and book two, I found I still liked the movies for what they are and tried to be (although that scene where Frodo tells Sam to leave just before Shelob’s lair, that he doesn’t need him anymore, will never make sense to me), but for the most part I liked both film and book fairly evenly. But entering into book three, I realized how certain characters got the short end of the movie stick. Particularly Eowyn and Faramir. I’ll be frank, I don’t know how you would have written more of them into the story without bogging down the pacing of the rest of the movie, but that’s kind of my point, Eowyn’s story is so good she needs her own dang movie so everyone can discuss how amazing and complex she is. And Faramir too, but we’ll get to him in a moment.

Eowyn in the movie is played wonderfully by Miranda Otto. Seriously, the casting of this series is pretty near perfect. Her part is relatively small, but they touch on all the main points of her character. She’s a fierce warrior, but she feels stuck in a cage staying at home having to care for her people and the man she considers a father all by herself, she falls for Aragorn, he doesn’t return her love, she wants to ride to war, she does so secretly, she kills the Witch-King, she receives the honor and valor she has always wanted, she marries Faramir, bada bing, bada boom, done. It’s a nice lil package, but it’s the highlight reel because there is so much more to Eowyn than that...

So to know Eowyn, we have to know the people of Rohan. Faramir does a nice job summing them up when he refers to them while talking to Sam and Frodo in The Window on the West, “If the Rohirrim are grown in some ways more like to us (the people of Gondor), enhanced in arts and gentleness, we too have become more like to them. For as the Rohirrim do, we now love war and valor as things good in themselves, both as a sport and an end. We esteem a warrior, nonetheless, above other crafts.” Faramir continues to talk of war “as is the need of their day,” a necessary evil, but you can tell... he’s really not into it. This is shown in a few different ways throughout the books (his relationship in contrast with his brother/father as one example), but the place it really hits home happens earlier in the same chapter when he states this zinger, “War must be, while we defend our lives against a destroyer who would devour all; but I do not love the sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend.” (Side note, Faramir is the best and I know everybody loves fawning over King Viggo Aragorn, but y'all are sleeping on the best man in the whole series! Faramir is where it is at. He’s far more complex than Aragorn and I will fangirl over him more later on, but we’re still on Eowyn, so I’ll continue.) So the people of Rohan are a proud, fierce, war-loving crowd. They actually sing songs as they are killing people in battle. Think “whistle while you work,” but fiercer and more insane. But Faramir is not dissing them; he is not implying they are war-hungry, or war-mongers, simply the Rohirrim believe proving themselves in battle is a right they deserve.

Enter Eowyn. In contrast to Faramir, who seems to have a sober understanding of war and battle, Eowyn finds her worth in it. We can see this most obviously in her attraction to Aragorn. In the movie, their attraction seems to develop in a natural, innocent way. I vaguely remember Miranda Otto mentioning in some interview for the DVD special features that part of the reason why it’s so tragic that Aragorn turns Eowyn down is that he knows they would make a good match. Essentially if Aragorn hadn’t met Arwen first, Aragorn and Eowyn could be together. Honestly, with how the movie presented their relationship, yah, I get it. Except that’s not how it is in the books. Aragorn, in The Houses of Healing, looks to Eomer and says, “I say to you that she loves you more truly than me; for you she loves and knows; but in me she loves only a shadow and a thought: a hope of glory and great deeds, and lands far from the fields of Rohan.” Eowyn desires the great deeds of war, not like Faramir does: as a means to protect a people, but as a way to prove herself. Faramir seems to find an honor in all crafts and positions, but Eowyn, although protective of them, talks lowly of her own people, consistently stating she is not a “dry-nurse” or a “serving-woman” but higher above them as a member of the House of Eorl. Eowyn speaks of a hierarchy within Rohan, consistently placing herself above the other women who are care-takers or mothers. What makes this even more tragic is that it’s not entirely her fault that she has come to this thinking. Gandalf, again in The House of Healing, explains to Eomer, “Think you that Wormtongue had poison only for Theoden’s ears? ‘What is the house of Eorl but a thatched barn where brigands drink in the reek, and their brats roll on the floor among dogs?’ Have you not heard these words before? My lord, if your sister’s love for you, and her will still bent her duty, had not restrained her lips, you might have heard even such things as these escape them. But who knows what she spoke in the darkness, alone, in the bitter watches of the night, when all her life seemed shrinking, and the walls of her bower closing in on her, a hutch to trammel some wild thing in?” It’s tragic. And what’s worse is Eomer’s shock in thinking about his sister in this light. He never really knew her. No one did. Eowyn has always been fighting alone. Which is what makes her conclusion so satisfying...

Eowyn rides into the Battle of Pelennor and kills the Witch-king (with the help of Merry). As I mentioned before, this is covered very well in the film, there is the great “I am no man” line which is taken from the book and although Eowyn is injured it seems she finally got her chance to defend herself in battle, like the other able-bodied men, so we’re meant to rejoice at her triumph, which I did when I saw the film. Except, again, that’s not the point in the book. Obviously, it’s great that the Witch-king is dead, but that event is the rising action leading into Eowyn’s healing, not her resolution… because Eowyn still wants to die in battle. She survived the Witch-king, she is being forced to heal her wounds in the House of Healing, but all she wants to do is die. Die as King Theoden has just done in battle (crushed by the body of his own horse) because this is the only way she can achieve the honor she feels she deserves. Because, again, Aragorn won’t give her that honor. And Faramir challenges this notion directly to Eowyn when they meet each other in the House of Healing, “You desired to have the love of the Lord Aragorn. Because he was high and puissant, and you wanted to have renown and glory and to be lifted far above the mean things of that crawled on the earth. But when he gave you only understanding and pity, then you desired to have nothing, unless a brave death in battle.” And it is only here, with Faramir, the first person to really see Eowyn and challenge her openly, does she acknowledge the truth, and her darkness (her desire for death) passes. It’s so beautiful. Eowyn exclaims, “Behold, the shadow has departed! I will be a shieldmaiden no longer, nor vie with the great Riders, nor take joy only in the songs of slaying. I will be a healer, and love all things that grow and are not barren.” And if you find a sadness or a disappointment in Eowyn’s proclamation of a life of peace than you are not paying attention to what Tolkien is putting down.

This is important because I’ve heard this complaint before… Tolkien is not saying that it is wrong for Eowyn to participate in battle, to be a shieldmaiden, because she is a woman, (there are multiple instances in the book where Eowyn is described as a worthy warrior alongside her male companions. Hamma, may he rests in peace, nominates Eowyn as the person to manage the. whole. kingdom in place of the king when Theoden and Eomer leave for Helms Deep. So there’s that.) Tolkien is saying it is wrong to glorify battle, death, and destruction. full stop. No matter who you are. It is a point that is continually being made time and time again throughout the whole series by almost every character. And it should be no surprise coming from a man who fought in the first world war and then lived through the second. “I will not take joy only in the songs of slaying,” is really what Tolkien is trying to drive home here. Eowyn is still a warrior. Right after she accepts Faramir’s proposal and Aragorn is crowned king, Eowyn is like, “Faramir, I love you. I’m gonna marry you. But I have some important business to take care of back in Rohan with my brother, so I’m gonna leave… I’ll be back in like a month probably. Bye.” Yes, girl! That is the moment we should be applauding. Not the moment where Eowyn kills the Witch-king, but the moment where Eowyn realizes herself as a warrior but also a healer and there being a time and honor in both of those crafts if they have a proper foundation. It’s the moment when Eowyn finally sees and knows herself. And you know what Faramir says in response to Eowyn’s leaving? Nothing. He lets her go to do her thing because he is the best and I love him.

On to Faramir!

Ok. So. I’ll be brief here. Or I’ll try to be. One, because I think I’ve already shown a fair amount of Faramir’s great qualities, but also because I think his character in the film shows a stronger resemblance to the book than Eowyn’s. If we can all ignore that scene where Faramir drags Frodo and Sam to Osgiliath (because that never happens *eye roll*), and focus on the dialogue dealing with his dad, we’re getting pretty faithful Faramir content as pretty much all of the Faramir - Denethor dialogue is taken directly from the book, and it’s all golden. And when I say golden, I mean deadly. The, “‘Since you were robbed of Boromir, I will do what I can in his stead. If I should return, think better of me, Father.’ - ‘That will depend on the manner of your return.’” exchange between Faramir and Denethor is brutal. To say that Faramir has daddy issues is an understatement. But that brings us up to an important point. Faramir is just as broken as Eowyn is and their meeting is not so much so Faramir can save Eowyn but for them to find healing in each other.

Faramir’s dad is insane. Literally. By the end of the book, Denethor loses his mind and tries to kill both him and his son by burning them alive. Faramir is not fully aware his dad is trying to kill him because by the time Denethor is building a funeral pyre, Faramir is slipping in and out of consciousness due to his battle wounds (to clarify, Denethor thinks his son is already dead, which is why he wants to share the funeral pyre with him. It doesn’t make it better, but it’s the facts). So the last thing Faramir hears, in full conscience, is that his dad wishes that he had died in his brother’s place and the only way he can prove his worth is sustaining victory in battle. Which he knows he cannot do. So Faramir goes to battle, is injured, and ultimately wants to die. Sound familiar? But he doesn’t. Aragorn calls him back to health in the House of Healing and he meets Eowyn.

Faramir likes Eowyn from the moment they meet but can see she is struggling and doesn’t know the exact cause of her pain. So he talks to the best wingman in Middle Earth, Merry, and puts all the details together that Eowyn is still pretty hung up on Aragorn, and for all the wrong reasons. Faramir decides to gently pursue Eowyn which, if you think about it, is quite the courageous thing to do considering Faramir’s past. Faramir’s whole life consists of being left behind, the man that is not chosen. As we established above, his own father chose and loved his brother, Boromir, over him. Boromir was chosen to join the Fellowship of the Ring, not Faramir. It’s even in his job description to be picked over. Faramir is a Steward of Gondor, he’s to hold court until the proper king appears and then literally step out of the way. Here is another area where potentially someone is going to choose someone else in place of him. Faramir questions Eowyn about her love for Aragorn asking, “[I’m assuming] you cannot choose between us. Eowyn, do you not love me, or will you not?” Ugh, tragic. She admits, “I wished to be loved by another, but I desire no man’s pity.” Faramir clarifies, “I do not offer you my pity. For you are a lady high and valiant and you yourself won renown that shall not be forgotten; and you are a lady beautiful, I deem, beyond even the words of the Elven-tongue to tell. And I love you. Once I pitied your sorrow. But now, were you sorrowless, without fear, or any lack, were you the blissful Queen of Gondor, still I would love you. Eowyn, do you not love me?”

It’s actually nerve-wracking when you leave out Eowyn’s response to this question; to know Faramir is asking someone he loves dearly for love in return, something he was rarely afforded in his life, especially in the beautiful way in which he asked it. He sees Eowyn for who she truly is, someone even she doesn’t fully recognize yet, and who she can be: a valiant queen. And not just any queen, Faramir says the Queen of Gondor, Aragorn’s wife. Faramir basically admits, “I know there’s a chance you could still be with Aragorn, but even if you did, I would still love you regardless.” It’s so courageous and beautiful, and in a lot of ways, the ultimate test to see if Faramir has really healed over the wounds his father has left. The wounds of being left unchosen. But Eowyn does choose, she chooses to be with him, and they ultimately provide healing and understanding to each other.

And that’s all left unsaid in the films. None of it is really in there which is such a bummer because it’s so good. And this whole story has been waiting for me to re-discover it on my shelf for the past 13 years and I’ve finally made my way back. Can’t believe I almost missed it.

Anyhow, thank you for coming to my TED Talk on why Faramir and Eowyn are the best and why reading books is cool.

I probably could write more, but I’ve taken a brief break in reading the dang book to write this essay and I still have a few more chapters to go to finish the whole thing.

Good day.

#lord of the rings #faramir #eowyn #rohan #gondor #JRR Tolkien #aragorn #reading is cool #return of the king

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flyswhumpcenter · 5 years ago

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Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where you send me requests according to this marvelous card! (Red cross is the completed prompt, character headshots are prompts I’ve already filled.)

"It's an enticing nectar, laced with deceits, Piercing straight through my heart-- ARROW" -ARROW, English translation

God, it's already my 2nd-to-last square to write for? That's kinda sad... It's been a hot, what, 6 months since I've written some TC? Truth be told, I was planning on filling "Sleep Deprivation" with Derek, but then a request came along... I still plan on finishing the WIP I have lying around for it because it was really fun to throw that on a Word file. Also are y'all ready for Uncle Fly's wacky nervous angsty wild ride because I guess this is set in an AU-ish timeline where PGS was found much earlier than 2021. This is kinda meant to be set in 2020 because why not, but the one mention of the date would rather remind you of 2019. Let's just say Derek is like your truly's and born at the end of the year. Anyway! The people in the TC server were really excited for this one so I hope I won't disappoint them. I tried some new and experimental things there so I hope it won't be too distracting or too much italics. Btw, can we bring the TC fandom back to life for 2020? It's the 15th anniversary of the franchise and the year Trauma Team happens in!

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Arrow to the Heart

Summary: GUILT getting eradicated didn't mean the staff of Caduceus USA were allowed to roam around freely without risking their lives every minute. Angie, Derek and Leslie all saw that through a different lense, caught between the memories of a dire crisis for Caduceus Europe and the drops spilled all over the operation table.

Fandom: Trauma Center Relationships: Pre-rel Derek/Angie, platonic Angie & Leslie, some focus on platonic Tyler & Derek

Wordcount: 5K words

Event hosted by @badthingshappenbingo

AO3 version available here.

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As a blurry ceiling appears before her, a soft, familiar voice makes itself heard.

“Angie?”

Tilting her head to the right, struck with a terrible case of lethargy, her vision finally focuses: it’s her friend and workmate, hovering over her. She has a concerned expression on her face and a notepad in her hands, clutched against her chest.

“L-Leslie…?”

As her eyes finish focusing, she realizes she knows this place: it’s a room at Caduceus. Why she’s there is vague at best and undecipherable at worst, but her throat is hoarse and she doesn’t feel like asking questions. She can only guess she still has some anaesthetic running in her system, considering the dull pain she has on her chest and shoulder.

“Yeah, that’s me, good deduction,” she says with a soft giggle. “How are you doing?”

“I’m… alive, I suppose…”

“You can thank Derek for that. He’s stabilized you before you’ve arrived there. I don’t know how he managed to pull that out, but I guess that’s what surgeons like him can do.”

Oh, right. She kind of remembers something now…

Turns out it was all a trap.

Well, of course it was. Now that he thought about it, something really wasn’t right with how they even got there. They got called for a situation eerily similar to a possible GUILT case, assuming the patient could have contracted PGS due to the former being extinct for the past two years of so. The condition of said patient was declining by the second, so they were rushed together to the scene.

If he went in like it was business as usual, Angie had picked on the negative vibes she was getting from it all, urging him to go slower and be more cautious. Dumb and naïve as he still kind of was, he preferred running around the place, wondering where the patient could be. As he called for one, absolutely divulging they were from Caduceus (with Angie not-so-silently trying to remind him not to do that and exert caution), the only thing he found was sudden, piercing, burning pain.

“Wait… I… What happened…?”

“We wanted to ask you that,” Leslie replies in a more solemn tone. “From what little we could gather, Derek and you got shot when going for an on-field surgery.

“Ah, I… I do remember that… Turned out that…”

Turns out there had never been any patient, just a Delphi renegade, armed with a gun, few bullets and quite literally nothing left after escaping confinement from the rest of society.

“Do you remember anything else?”

Angie’s memories swim for a moment, trying to gather and brace themselves. Drop by drop, tear by tear, wave by wave, it comes back to her, slowly, surely. She clears her throat.

Before he ran out of bullets, the renegade cowered away, leaving them with nothing but contemplating their own injuries. Hiding behind the wall of a little street, not too far from the stench of the almost-full trash bins and surrounded by heavy almost-silence, they were finally safe enough to open a light. To his displeasure, as soon as he tried to see whatever’s surrounding them, he spotted two things he didn’t like in the slightest: their surgery kit on the ground, half open, and a panting Angie next to the slightly scattered tools.

The first thing he noticed were the two bullet holes she had in her left shoulder and the right side of her abdomen. Fortunately, they didn’t seem to have hurt a lot of vital components and didn’t delve too deep into her flesh. Still, if he didn’t do anything, even with help coming their way eventually, she’d die on them; and he didn’t plan on letting that course of events happen. Not on his watch, never.

He sent a distress signal from his phone to Caduceus, then turned back to her, already grabbing the gloves and antibacterial gel from the case.

“I see…” Leslie seems conflicted, to say the least. “At least, you got out alive of this terrible situation. We even expect you to make a quick recovery!”

“My wounds aren’t too bad, then?” Her voice was starting to win over the sleeping gas. Good.

“No! Again, they’d have been worse if Derek hadn’t stabilized you on the scene, but your wounds really aren’t bad. That man must have been a lousy shooter.”

“R-right… Derek tried to…”

“Angie? You’re still with me?” He asked, trying to get her to stir back to consciousness.

Dishevelled strands of hair move with her quick, shallow breathing. She was obviously suffering, but nodded anyway, the blood already pouring from the wound and staining her pink uniform.

“Okay good… I… I can’t afford to anesthetize you, right now, so… I’m really sorry for what’s gonna happen!”

Her face slowly distorted even further.

“Y… You’re not gonna do that, right, Derek…?” She had an awkward, pained smile full of disbelief on her face.

“If I don’t, you may… You may not make it!”

She shut her eyes close for a few moments, then sighed heavily, slowly. He expected a rebuttal of some sorts, despite how much blood was spilling from the bullet holes, but she instead smiled and gazed at him with drooping eyes.

“…Then, let’s start the operation, Doctor.”

“I’ll try making it as painless as possible,” he repeated to both her and himself. “I won’t let you down, Angie.”

Leslie’s lips were sewn shut by her retelling of their conversation in the little alleyway.

“To be honest with you… His job was sloppy. The bandages he put on your injuries weren’t straight. Of course, usually, we’d have had a conversation with him about that, but…”

“But?”

“Because of the circumstances, I don’t think we’re allowed to be any harsh on him for rubbing antibiotic gel improperly.”

“Oh God.”

“What’s wrong, Angie?”

“I remember that now. Vaguely, but… I remember.”

The pain in his chest was excruciating, but that was besides the point. Angie needed him, right at that moment, to be strong and do his job. He had become a surgeon to save lives and what was a surgeon if he couldn’t do so for his assistant, his most trusted friend and ally? Besides, he needed to repay her for the time she helped Naomi save him from the demons trying to tear his heart apart. With blurring vision and trembling hands, he’d do his job, fulfil his mission. Even if it were to be its last, he’d successfully conduct this operation.

It wasn’t like he was the only one in pain either. Angie’s usually soft features were distorted by the suffering he was inflecting upon her by not being able to anesthetize her. Still, as much as he desired Cybil would be there by their side to allow for such a thing, she wasn’t there with us; so it was all on him, with the little he had at his disposal to deal with this.

“I kept passing out and waking up, only to lose consciousness again. It was… terrifying. I thought we’d both die here and there, again and again.”

“When we found the both of you, you were barely conscious and your dress was half-zipped. Derek lost consciousness before he could finish dressing you back up.”

God, she must have been out of it for her not have been embarrassed to be so exposed in such a creepy context. The circumstances are all to blame on that one.

“…How is he, then?”

Leslie goes silent.

“How’s Derek?” Angie repeats, impatience and fear building in her throat.

The silence gets heavier. And heavier. And heavier.

The scene was grizzly to say the least. He had dropped blood everywhere his hands had gone for the past minutes. Angie’s vitals weren’t smiling in the slightest, her moments of consciousness getting shorter and shorter each time she couldn’t tolerate what he was pulling her through. It was for her good, only for her survival chances not to plummet to the ground.

He was getting there too: he had removed the bullet in her abdomen and patched that up with some membranes they miraculously had packed in (which, considering they had suspected PGS, didn’t make a lot of sense; but Angie still put them in just in case they’d face Deftera or Tetarti). He was on his way to removing the second one, even if his hands weren’t steady anymore and his vision was turning into a guessing game if he didn’t spend a few long seconds focusing on one object. Still, adrenaline was keeping him running, anxiety and fear of death ringing behind his eyes and in all of his nerves, so he’d manage.

Not like he had a choice anyway.

“…He’s not woken up yet,” Leslie finally says with a heavy sigh and her hands twitching right under Angie’s gaze. “Tyler was supposed to operate on him, but he broke down when realizing how bad the damage was.”

Leslie was tenser than ever as she presided to the pre-operation conference with Tyler and Sidney. The nervous glance the former was darting towards the latter just showed he knew how wrong the situation was before she could even speak up about it. She had always hated being a bird of bad news; this wouldn’t change today.

“The patient is a twenty-seven-year old man who got shot twice in the abdomen. The bullets don’t seem to have hit anything major, only grazed them. The few things we need to be wary about are the high risk of internal and external haemorrhage, along with the possibility of him being afflicted with PGS happening as the patient previously contracted GUILT, these being Kyriaki and—”

“The fuck is that, Les’?!”

Tyler’s voice was oddly serious. The death stare he gave her made her legs shake and her arms shiver further than they had done when she had first learnt of the situation.

“W-what do you mean?”

“The patient’s name! It’s… It’s some kind of sick joke, right?! That has to be!”

“There are no “jokes” of any kind here, Dr Chase,” Sidney intervened. “If we don’t operate immediately, he’ll die. Get ready right now.”

“…Of course, Director.”

“So… Then… is Derek…?”

Her colleague takes time to find a way to answer. Her chest seems to weigh like lead threatening to snap the rope keeping it standing. During their few years working at the same place against the same threats, she doesn’t remember having seen Leslie this stressed, this anxious about anything, especially not when the life of someone they both knew was the matter. Then again, Angie wasn’t in the USA, when Caduceus Europe had to break terrible news to their American counterpart. She was right there, in the middle of the panic and the tears she didn’t want to spill. And even then, even when remembering how nauseous she’d get just thinking about what could be happening to him, what could happen would Naomi be unable to save the day —

Even with all of this considered, right at that moment, Angie feels like she’s just opened Pandora’s Box.

Tyler had tears flowing down his face, hands trembling, as he painfully removed the second bullet. It was the first time she had ever seen him in such a state, at least, the first time since Amy had gotten saved by, well… the very man they were currently trying to save, whose vitals kept trying to plummet to the ground as they watched the blood they were transfusing into his veins pour right out of the wounds. The syringe he was holding with unstable fingers had just hit the ground, breaking in a thousand shards and splattering some stabilizer around the crash site.

“What’s wrong?” She asked. Not that she didn’t have her own idea as to what was going so awfully incorrectly at the moment, but she was still surprised by how distressed Tyler was. For such a naturally talented surgeon to panic this way…

“I-I don’t know!!” He screamed, breathing hitching, hands crimson. I just… I just…”

Before he could put an end to his stuttering, a new party entered the room, dressed in scrubs and already grabbing the forceps on the surgical tool tray.

“Step aside and calm yourself down, Dr Chase. I’ll take care of it.”

He gulped, but nonetheless, Tyler stepped back from the operation table, right as she moved to dry his tears with a tissue.

“I’m sorry, Doctor, I don’t know…”

“Enough, we’re running out of time. Please monitor the vitals for me, that’s all I ask.”

“Will do, Doctor.”

“Leslie, get a syringe of stabilizer ready”.

“On it, Doctor.”

Dr Hoffman’s arrival changed the air in the OR from desperate to tense and solemn. There simply was the feeling he’d manage to pull a miracle like Derek had done so before their eyes before. In a heavy and serious tone, one that didn’t betray any panic whatsoever, he ended the conversation:

“Let’s save him, once and for all. Failure isn’t an option.”

“If it wasn’t for Dr Hoffman stepping in, we’d have lost Derek. I honestly never saw Tyler gets this wound up by anything in the OR like that before…”

“That must have been terrifying to see…”

“And it was! We went over it after the operation was over, and he confessed to me he couldn’t seeing him that way. Makes me wonder how you pulled through him getting infected with GUILT…”

Sidney suddenly entered the room, almost as suddenly as everyone was convoked here, his workplace phone in hand, eyes sombre behind his glasses reflecting part of the neon lights of their lounge. It had been a slow day until now as the GUILT epidemic had been mostly subdued, leaving them with the wiggle room and luxury to wait for a patient to come in; even if that didn’t make any of them think any less of how odd it was for them to be called here so brutally. Still, from the corner of her eye, Leslie noticed something else that was weird: Victor was there too.

Victor, who never came out of his laboratory unless forced to, was there with us, crossing his arms as he walked behind Sidney and laid back against the wall. From the gazes she exchanged with Tyler, she knew he found it suspicious too. If even Victor was there, it meant Sidney was more than deadly serious about this.

“Is everyone here yet?”

“Victor was the last person we were waiting on,” Stephen said from behind Sidney, even if the questioning expression in his eyes and on his face indicated he must have been as clueless as they all were.

“Good,” he replied as he came closer, putting his glasses back on the bridge of his nose. “Everyone, if I have gathered you all here on such a short notice. However, what I have to tell you is too urgent not to.”

“And what’s that urgent thing?” Victor asked.

“I got a call from Caduceus Europe.”

The sheer idea of their European counterpart contacting them now, right as they had both Derek and Angie there, and prompting Sidney to call them all in was rising all the possible red flags it could. The air got tenser with just a sentence.

“And what for?” Tyler reacted with a nervous grin on his face. “Miller can’t have possibly called you just for a hamburger recipe.”

“Would you mind taking this seriously, Dr Chase?”

“S-sure.”

“As I was saying, a few minutes ago, we got a call from Caduceus Europe. They were asking for your permission to proceed with a GUILT intervention.”

“Why didn’t they just ask Stiles to do it then?” Victor chimed in again. “He has his own agency, doesn’t he? No need to ask us all for that kind of stuff.”

“That’d be because Derek is the patient.”

The news cut through the air like a hot blade through glass.

“…You’ve got to be shittin’ us,” was all that any of them said about it, courtesy of Victor.

“I wasn’t the one operating on him directly, that must have been how… It wasn’t any easier on the nerves, that much I can tell you…”

“I’m sure it was. We were all tense that day, too… Tyler kept asking me if he’d be fine. We really weren’t sure if Dr Kimishima could… That’s her name, right?”

“It is.”

“So, yeah, we weren’t sure at all, so we all were super stressed until Sidney told us it’d be all okay…”

The door to their lounge opened again. As soon as it did, Tyler jumped up from the couch, Leslie following shortly after. Victor tried his hardest not to look like he was somewhat concerned. Appeared before them their director whom, by the look of the traits on his face, was less tense than he had been around thirty minutes before. God had time been slow and cruel on their hands…

“How’s Derek?!” Tyler immediately interrogated, running on legs that had previously trembled under the weight of his worries.

“He’s made it. Barely, shall I add, but he made it. The operation was a success.”

A collective sigh of relief happened as Tyler’s legs buckled up again, with Leslie barely managing to catch him before he’d have hit the floor. They didn’t lose anyone today and, in the end, that was all that mattered, right?

“Still, with how anxious Tyler was back then, it’s no wonder why he lost his composure when it seemed like there’d be no end to it.”

Angie’s breath caught up in her throat. The painkillers had subdued enough for her consciousness to be back to its usual sharpness, even with the lingering rests of lethargy from blood loss. The IV in her wrist was just the physical manifestation of that.

“…what do you mean by that, Leslie?”

Her workmate’s shoulders tensed as she looked away, pinching her lips, before sighing.

“We…”

“We underestimated the extent of his injuries…!” Leslie yelped as Tyler’s hands had managed to take out one of the bullets.

“J-Jesus Derek, how could you have still been conscious when there was that in your chest?!”

They both stared, dumbfounded and terrified, at the hole very much close to the heart still bleeding under their watch.

“It grazed the aorta… If it had been a little closer….”

“…he’d have been dead on arrival, yeah. Let’s… Let’s remove that bitch…”

Tyler’s voice sounded hesitant and about to let a sorrow escape.

The operation continued on with the smell of blood and gunpowder filling the atmosphere of the room. Both were too focused and with too much pressure on their shoulders to let that hinder them in their mission, even if she could notice her surgeon’s grip getting looser by the moment.

“Vitals dropping!”

“I don’t have the time for that bullshit! Inject stabilizer yourself!!”

Without a word, Leslie did as told and grabbed the syringe.

“That… That fucker just had to use his fancy voodoo powers before passing out, didn’t he…?”

“How would you even know that…?”

A familiar beep resounded again.

“V-vitals dropping!”

“…yeah, that.”

Still, his pupils regularly darted to the screen displaying the vitals. Sweat drops flowed profusely all over his face, more than any other person she had ever assisted before. The more tranquil aura he gave off compared to the failure-paranoid Derek was nowhere to be seen…

The forceps almost fell into the body when it slipped from his hands, the second bullet escaping his grasp and landing near the aorta yet again. Breathing quickening, almost wheezing, he fixed his mistake with a display of cracking down under the fears piling up on his mind. Tears started flowing down from his eyes as the vitals continued falling and falling, the third bullet still doing its damage…

“Oh my God…” Angie doesn’t have the words. She really doesn’t.

“Turns… Turns out he got shot four times. Your assailant had six bullets on him and they all hit.”

“That’s…” Her throat was knotting on itself. “That’s…”

A memory suddenly hit her.

“Wait, Leslie. You mentioned Tyler supposed Derek had used his Healing Touch on me, right?”

“Yeah. I’m still sure it’s just a hunch he had, but he did. I think it’s because he panicked when realizing the vitals kept dropping further and further.”

“It’s not just that. At least, I think it isn’t… I’m certain he did use it.”

“Why would Derek even do that? He was already injured as it is, he was lucky he didn’t pass out here and there to begin with!”

“…I suspect it’s because he… knew that.”

Her colleague stood there, dumbfounded, before her eyes grew wide and she almost bit her hand in realization.

Oh no, no, not now! It wasn’t time to pass out, not yet. Angie still needed him, he had to stay awake! Issue was, even with all the determination in the world, it seemed like he wouldn’t have the time to… That’s right! Time! He was one of the few people on Earth who could play around with its flow. All he had to do to save Angie was to draw a star and focus hard enough with what was left of his adrenaline and clarity of mind to finish the operation or, at least, what he could finish of it.

Success: time was now going at quarter of its speed. He saw everything, now: how to remove the second and last bullet, how fast he could put on the membrane and seamlessly apply it to the injured flesh with the gel, how to give Angie her dignity back now that he’d finished on her. She’d be fine, she’d be fine; he was hearing the sirens coming their way, seeing the blue lights blinking.

However, as soon as the distortion of time started fading, he felt all of his energy crash back. The world started spinning as he finished zipping her dress close, his hand giving up halfway through as it went limp and his other was too focused on rubbing his eyes under his glasses. Something drops from his mouth yet again.

It was no use resisting. The world span and span around him, blurring into one vague landscape of blacks and blues, the sounds gathering together to form a cacophonic white noise looping in the back of his mind. With the tools falling from his hands, he all but crashed on his patient, workmate and best friend all at once, eyelids fluttering as the black spots invading his sight made themselves more and more invasive.

When time resumed its course, all Derek could sense was the darkness of his vision, the coldness of his skin and the taste of copper in his mouth.

“I mean, I’ll believe you on that one, you know him and his process much more than I do…”

To be frank, after telling all of this to Leslie, Angie just wants to cry. This has all been a terrible, atrocious, hideous mess and she’d have liked it to remain buried inside her mind.

“He’s such an idiot…! He could’ve died, and yet…. And yet he still operated on me!”

Leslie remained silent, but gave her a candid smile and handed her a handkerchief.

“That’s Derek for you… I’ve heard he tried not to make you worried when he got infected a few months back too.”

“That… didn’t really work,” she remarks with a soft of snicker in her voice. “He’s such an idiot… Sometimes, I wonder what stupid things he’d do if we weren’t there…”

“Saving you, it seems. He realized his wounds were less deep than yours.”

“…where is he, by the way?”

“Wait, you haven’t guessed yet?”

Leslie seems genuinely surprised, even if her astonished expression soon gets replaced with her usual amused smile and bright eyes.

“He’s behind the curtain,” she replies as she points to the item in question with the tip of her thumb.

Angie’s entire face suddenly catches on fire and her weakened condition almost makes her head go for a spin.

“Oh God… Has he woken up yet?!”

“If he wasn’t before, I don’t think he could sleep through all of this for much longer, y’know.”

Tyler’s voice suddenly rises in the room as his hand draws the curtain open. He gets up from a chair sitting by another bed with that dumb grin of his brightly plastered on his face.

“Geez are you ladies noisy…!”

Dumbfounded, embarrassed and relieved all the same, Angie just stares in complete silence. Leslie giggles under her breath.

“But hey, at least you’ve almost awoken my patient by doing that! That guy’s been sleepin’ for the past few hours!”

Leslie and he exchange a glance, a smirk on both of their faces.

“I think we should leave the both of you alone,” she then adds. “Just be careful about your injuries, okay, Angie? You’re the more reasonable of the two on that front, so I trust you with handling them properly… If you need help, don’t hesitate ringing for a nurse!”

On that, the both of them leave, and she isn’t sure what to make of it all.

However, Angie has always been a worrywart, she knows that very much, so she still tries getting up from bed. It’s difficult and taking her ages since her legs feel so fragile and her wounds bother her, her shoulder still feeling very much sore. She pulls through the annoyances anyway, rising to her feet while supporting himself with the wheeled IV stand by her left side, gradually making her way to the other bed in the room and sitting on the chair still left warm by Tyler’s presence. Seems like he was there for quite a long time too…

Unlike whatever movie was playing back in her head, her eyes soon lie upon a peacefully sleeping Derek, whose face is still a bit too pale to her liking. She goes as far as to making sure he is doing as fine as she’d like him to: his chest is rising and falling steadily, calmly; his breathing is stable, only needed to be helped a little by the pipe in his nose; his vitals are doing just fine on the screen next to the bed beeping regularly.

Life suddenly sounds very peaceful.

Right as she settles into the seat, putting the pillow she’s borrowed from her bed on it, Derek stirs awake. It’s his eyelids slowly fluttering back open at first, then a little cough, and finally his vision coming to be, eyes locking into hers. He looks somewhat different without his glasses: even if she’s seen him before without them, it’s still an odd feeling to get, somewhat like an uncanny valley effect. They smile to each other.

“A-Ang…?” His voice is hoarse, which was predictable considering the extent of the trauma his body must have taken.

“That sure is me. How are you feeling?”

“I guess… not worse than when I got GUILT…?”

She’s heard something like that before, albeit differently…

Right as she settled into the seat, her folder still clenched against her chest, Derek stirred awake. First his eyelids slowly fluttered back open, then it was a little cough escaping his mouth, and finally his vision came to be as his eyes locked into hers. He did look somewhat different without his glasses: even if she had seen him before without them, the time he had spent three days in bed sleeping coming to her mind first, it was still an odd feeling to get, somewhat like an uncanny valley effect. She smiled to him.

“A-Ang…?” His voice was hoarse, which would obviously happen considering the extent of the trauma his body had been put through.

“That sure is me… How are you feeling?

“…like trash… To say I’m putting patients through that…”

“It’s for their good. It was for yours too.”

“I suppose you’re right, Angie…”

With relief washing all over her, she put her free hand hand on his, mindful of the IV inserted in his wrist.

“What about you never do that again? I told you that was suspicious!”

“I gotta listen to you more often… How are you…?”

He asked that before too. How are you, Angie?, when she wasn’t the one who had gotten infected by a bioweapon. That man has the most skewed priorities of them all, she swears…

“I’m doing just fine. Thank you very much for saving me, Derek. Still, if you could not die on us again, it’d be appreciated.”

He snickers. “You’re welcome…”

Still, and even with her greatest efforts, Angie feels tears running down her cheeks and wetting something under them.

“What’s wrong…?” He asks, concern lacing his tired voice.

“I… I got so scared I’d lose you!! W-when I saw you operating on me, I… I…. I wondered why you were doing this instead of sparing your energy!”

“I’m a doctor, Angie… I save people, so I saved you. I… couldn’t just sit there and watch you bleed out, in pain…”

“But you were injured!”

“And so were you… Everything’s fine, now, right? I’m here, you’re here…”

She sniffles her sorrow back in and tries giving him a smile, rubbing the early tears away from her eyes.

“You… You’re right. Everything’s fine now.”

That grants her a smile.

“Good…”

Still holding his hand, they fall into a comfortable silence, her arms resting on his mattress.

For now, there’s no point in looking back at the past and remembering how terrible things can get. She can, at least for a moment, let go of all of her fears and remain serene, in the safety of a haven she keeps rediscovering, by the side of her favourite person. There’s nothing quite like the calm that comes after a violent, red-tinted storm, nothing quite the reassurance that comes after getting terrified and nothing quite the sun which makes rainbow after the rain has stopped pouring down.

Truly, sometimes, life can be merciful and full of light, as long as it wants to shine…

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comicteaparty · 5 years ago

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February 1st-February 7th, 2020 Creator Babble Archive

The archive for the Creator Babble chat that occurred from February 1st, 2020 to February 7th, 2020. The chat focused on the following question:

What is the nicest thing someone has said about your story, whether its published or still a WIP?

Deo101 [Millennium]

Well, this is one I can answer right away. It's not a very straightforward answer, but I had someone reference me and my comic in an essay about reasons why they were able to love themself... It was for a creative writing class, and they just used me as an example of a greater thing (indie media)... and I only know about it because they asked me permission. but they let me read the essay, and it made me cry. I havent heard from them in a while and I really hope they're okay, but that really stuck with me in a way nothing else has. It's not really a quote, though, so the nicest comment I have recieved was "I can tell how much you love people by reading this story." It was really sweet in a way I can't quite articulate. People have been incredibly sweet to me, and I feel very blessed. I could make a long list detailing the kindness I have been shown.

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

Apparently Phantomarine (http://www.phantomarine.com/) has made more than one person cry already. Which, to me, is pretty darn high praise, given that I've barely begun the story

Having people find it and say "THIS IS EXACTLY THE KIND OF STORY I'VE BEEN LOOKING FOR" also hits a nerve. I know that feeling. You like certain themes/motifs and you wish someone would blend them together in just the right way. It can be magical.

And the last one is when I learned that children like it. A few have come forward so far - either in person or through their parents - and told me they loved it. It was around that age that I was building my own 'inner library' of inspirations for the comic. To know that I might be part of theirs, even in a small way, is just... the best?

Deo101 [Millennium]

that's all so incredibly nice <3

and now I wanna add to my list actually I don't want to interrupt, this is just a topic I wish I could sing from the rooftops about... I also had a student of mine (I am a teacher at a church) come out to me because he knew I would be okay with who he is. And, I have had people tell me it's inspiring to them, which kinda makes my heart melt. I'll stop now but, really I could go on and on about how open and loving people have been with me and my work, and how much it means to me.

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Man... This is somewhat difficult for me to answer since I am so early into my comic creating journey. However, I will say that I recently got a comment on my comic Whispers of the Past (https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/whispers-of-the-past/list?title_no=191366) that made me smile. A long time reader commented that they always read my new pages twice, once on Webtoon, and again on Tapas. This really made me realize that my work has meaning to somebody other than myself, which is definitely what I need to hear when I'm doubting myself.

Mei

It's so nice reading about nice comments people have gotten and honestly... y'all deserve it!! I need to be in a better habit of commenting myself because I will promote comics to my friends for days on end but I'm too shy to leave a comment, even though I love receiving comments myself. I think the nicest comments I've received have been in combination with the conventions I was at last year. People told me that they thought the comic was funny, which I am incredibly thankful for. And one person who bought the book at the convention took the time to find it on Tapas and then comment on the latest page, saying that they'd talked to me, read the book, and that they liked it. That meant so much to me it was crazy! And another time, I was showing my book to someone at a convention and she said that she actually read the comic online, which honestly... It's so strange and surreal to me to meet anyone in real life who reads things posted online. It made my heart do smiley emoji. I think what LadyLazuli said is really right, this idea that you're a small part of someone's life or inspirations or just general day is pretty amazing?! Also this one guy commented on every page week to week with the same 'vase' joke on several updates and honestly the commitment was truly astounding

kayotics

I think some of the nicest comments come from one specific reader, who has mentioned a couple times that going back and reading the comic has helped them through some tough times. There was also one person who went to the effort of contacting me after their books were damaged from flooding, and wanted to buy new books to replace the old ones. This was wild since they wanted to do something so inconvenient (paying with cash by mail, and I didn't even have an online storefront in the first place) to replace the books.

twothirty

really early on i had 1 reader that would leave in-depth analysis of some character interactions and they were were spot on and made me really feel like people cared about this story . The other interaction that really stands out was doing the convention circuit last year I had a reader come up to say hi, and usually that interaction is just "i love your comic!" (which is amazing) but he also then talked to me at length about the story and again it was this feeling of just knowing someone out there cares about what you're doing. Comics feels particularly isolating so interactions like that really keep me going.

Funari (Raison d’Etre)

I've had two different readers tell me our comic has brought them joy during bad days. Sadly one of them I haven't heard from in 2 years and they were going through some rough times. I hope they're okay

Nutty (Court of Roses)

The nicest thing I've heard was when my coworker told me him and his daughter were reading it, and he told me that she's "drawing like me" with panels and stuff and keeps asking him "how do i make the bubbles" So they're gonna work on that and then he's gonna show it to me.

keii4ii

Any time someone gets what I'm trying to do with the story. I have a great fear of getting good intentioned people trashing the most important parts of my story (without realizing their importance). So whenever someone gets what the story is all about, whether as a whole or just one scene, it's a huge weight off my chest. Legit brings tears to my eyes. Even if I manage to overcome that fear some day, comments like that would mean a lot to me. Being understood has always been very important to me.

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

Someone recently said they wanted to get a tattoo of something in the comic and that was cool. It also means a lot when people respond well to the jokes in the comic because I put a lot into the writing to make it funny. I hope it makes someone cry someday Joe Is Dead http://joeisdead.com/read

DanitheCarutor

Ffff all my readers have been so compassionate, it's jarring! In a nice way! Choosing one nice thing is hard, every comment has been nice. I guess the most flattering is when a someone takes the time to go back to the previous chapters to link little things up with the current events in the story, or when they manage to remember in spite of how webcomics update so slowly. There was a comment I saved a while back where someone remembered a small thing in chapter 3 and was doing some brainstorming with it relating to the current chapter at the time.

Every so often someone also leaves a paragraph with some of the most motivational gushing, it's so nice! Oh! Also, there have been a few people who've asked me to print my comic so they can have a physical copy (which I'm slowly starting to do), which is super motivating knowing a couple people like my depressing comic enough to want to own a copy of it.

keii4ii

Oh man, I too have saved screenshots of some of my favorite comments, but I don't wanna share them because 1) some of them are long and 2) maybe the commenters wouldn't want their names disclosed in a different context? They are great to save for a rainy day, though!

Tuyetnhi

Oh this is hard I remember one comment on tapas that they got their aunt and cousin reading it and I was flattered! Most comments I got were about the artstyle and progression of the story, which I hope to continue if school lets me. Still, I'm quite surprised that it drove someone to get their family to read a romance about someone's dream lover lmao

also same keii!

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Honestly, I have far too many comments I should screenshot. But so many of them are praising the art, and I never know how to feel about it. Like, those types of comments make me happy, but I never know how to truly feel about them.

keii4ii

Art is admittedly easier to comment on. If I'm commenting on art on anyone's comic, I try to point out how it contributes to the storytelling, rather than "ooh pretty and shiny." Pretty and shiny is valid but I'd be just doing illustrations if that were my main goal!

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

But if 9/10 comments are, "Wow, the art is so pretty!" I can't really react to it much, especially since my own self-doubt is constantly reminding me of my mistakes.

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

I've been really excited to answer this question because it gives me an opportunity to thank any and all the fans and people who celebrate our work. I've been so humbled by all of the wonderful and amazing fanart we've received, music paired with scenes from our comic, and fans even imagining scenarios of the characters themselves-- I'm constantly blown away! I do have my most treasured moment however, and that was when we were tabling at TCAF a couple years back. We had been swamped with crowds, selling, and early mornings-- it was a long day! That was until we had one person who went through the trouble to see us in person, and handcraft a drawing to deliver to us, saying thank you, and in that moment I bawled!! They quickly left after us thanking them so much, and I'll never forget that and how much it gave us a fire to see this whole project through. We have it framed and it sits in front of our cpu

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

I got one comment where someone said that one of my main characters "seems sweet," and it just left me confused because, a) he's only said about ten words total, and b) in those ten words, he has somehow managed to be rude.

So how is he sweet???

But I mean, I should be happy that he seems likeable despite his attitude and reticence

Tuyetnhi

nice lmao

I do agree about the comments about the artwork being pretty and idk how to repond other than thanks lmao(edited)

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Yep

That's pretty much all I can say

Because I would HOPE my art looks pretty good after a decade drawing haha

Tuyetnhi

tho tbh because of the nature of my comic, I do get the occasional thirst comment and I'm just sitting there bawling

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Oh yeah, I get those

Tuyetnhi

"Wow he's buff"

"yea bc I made him like that lmao"

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

People drooling about my male MC mainly

It's so awkward, but I knew it would happen

Tuyetnhi

same, but for the male love interest and i'm like "this is expected lmao"

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

I KNEW WHAT I WAS DOING

keii4ii

I get like 0 thirsty comment despite one of the MCs being an athletic cat dude with literal secret tentacles (I'm okay with not getting a lot of thirsty comments, but I do find it interesting)

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I've gotten thirsty comments and my comic is not meant to be romantic or sexy at all

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Oh, I can leave you some thirsty comments

I love Lu

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I was going to say they are inevitable(edited)

but kei proved that wrong

Tuyetnhi

same I love Lu too lmao

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

And will gladly praise his hotness

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

if your comic goes on for long enough, i think you will get some eventually. it is a rule of the internet

keii4ii

It's been ongoing since Nov 2014 XD But I guess it takes longer for some than others!

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

@keii4ii I don't think you quite understand

I have never been attracted to animal-people before

I have always found anthros and such weird

And yet

Lu is totally my thing

Tuyetnhi

Strangely attractive for a cat guy lol

points for those who get the ref

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

how do you guys know what their comic is?

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

He is way too attractive

keii4ii

Mine? Cronaj and Tuyetnhi came across it outside this Discord, I believe!

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Yep

I have been reading it for a few years now

Although I can't say exactly when, because HoK has been a part of my life for so long

Tuyetnhi

I think I started reading it a year or 2 ago lol

DanitheCarutor

@keii4ii The only nice thing about Webtoons is that there aren't any profiles to check, so you can't look up fans via their comments. Also if you did Google their username there isn't a guarantee whoever you find would be that Webtoons user without them telling you. Lmao! About the thirsty comments, I used to get them a lot of Webtoons. There was this one scene where my smaller MC pulled the taller one to their face to say "Your friend is dead", before shoving him away and walking off. Some of my readers went wild! They wanted the two MCs to make-out so bad, even though the scene clearly had no romantic chemistry... or even the entire comic for that matter. My thirsty bunch came off really desperate and reaching at times.

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Omg, that's just precious

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

I really have never gotten thirsty comments, with the exception of one or two very mild 'Oh, that character is attractive' comments. But I think my comics just don't really attract thirsty readers. Of course, I rarely get any reader feedback, so that's probably part of it.

keii4ii

@DanitheCarutor Yeah, that's a plus about the semi-anonymity! My screenshots are from less anonymous places, so yeah. Some are also from like... Discord, where the person may not even have expected the comment to be archived in any way. (Sometimes I actually asked if I could screenshot, but I don't know if I asked every time...)

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

No one has ever reported finding my characters attractive

Deo101 [Millennium]

People thinking my characters are hot is a pretty common thing, and usually I don't mind but... sometimes it's the bane of my existence.

It's always a little bit weird, though

every time someone is like "dat ass " I'm like alright bud keep it to urself

it's part of why I made all of my characters adults, actually

people even before I started making it, just when I was talking to them about it or showing my art would STILL be overly sexual about my characters so I aged them up where it felt less weird for me.

kayotics

I’ll get thirst comments every once in a while, usually on tapas. I don’t mind it too much, especially since I’m usually making characters that I’m also attracted to? I usually think thirst comments are funny

DanitheCarutor

Pfff I'm in a similar boat to Deo's. Usually I don't mind, but there are moments where it sucks. Like there will be a really serious, or heavy scene and someone will pop up with "Make them kiss!!", "Don't be mean to your future hubby, X! Kiss him and make up!!". It totally feels they don't actually care about the story and just want something to jack it off to. xD I don't get a whole lot of thirst anymore, which is nice. I think the vocal group lost interest after being blue-balled for 3-4 chapters. Weirdest thing, I have yet to get anyone saying my characters are attractive... well, some readers used to say Julian (my questionable looking non-binary character) was pretty but they weren't really thirsty, just observations. At least they came off like that. My style makes characters look kind of ugly, so comments about any of my cast being attractive is non-existent. @keii4ii Ooh yeah, I can see how that would be an issue. Although, if you really want to show off some super nice comments, you can also just cover or blur out their username and icon image. A lot of people do that, it's really good for keeping up the user's anonymity, and I don't think they would mind since you're not using their words slanderously.

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Can I admit I sort of wish I got some thirsty and shipping comments? I also draw characters I think are hawt so I kinda wish my readers felt the same way. XD I don’t really want them in Ashes were my characters are teens, but in Eryl where 95% of the cast is legal age, I kinda wish some people wanted to be a little bit thirsty about it. XD

Deo101 [Millennium]

Yeah, i just wish it wasnt... Idk sometimes it seems like thats ALL people see and it makes me sad

Like theres other stuff going on...

eli [a winged tale]

I feel you too Cap’n! I sort of expected shipping comments for AWT https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/keyspace-a-winged-tale/list?title_no=322364 but yeah they’re still kids discovering themselves! When I start my adult fantasy comic (tentatively planned), then I’m all on board for sure. For the question, I love and screenshot every comment to peruse whenever I feel down. I treasure all of them but one that particularly stood out for me was a writer reimagining all their stories with my art and characters and that just about made me cry happy tears

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

So far the only 'thirst comments' I've gotten are when the comic gets even the slightest bit... gay I can't say my story revolves around major LGBTQ+ themes, but people have picked up on random bits of subtext between characters (which is mostly intentional on my part, not gonna lie) and specifically take time to comment on them. It makes me happy to see people reading between the lines. And it also helps me know what the readers like or are really looking for. So... yeah, I'm gonna keep on that path

eli [a winged tale]

Did I miss that in phantomarine?? Howww

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

The subtlest of subtle subtext... which will become far less subtle over time

Nutty (Court of Roses)

i am deliberately pushing my main ship to get ppl into it lmao

YOU WANT THESE TWO TO KISS, I PROMISE

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

GOSH I know this feeling too well I feel like I don't want to overwhelm the readers, but I want them to still realize "...Hmmmmmm, yeah I kinda want this."

eli [a winged tale]

I’m so intrigued now

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

good

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

wait i can't think of anything remotely gay/romantic in phantomarine

besides maybe

phaedra and... cheth?

eli [a winged tale]

The shipping comments in AWT are currently on point at exactly where I want them to be

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

i don't believe you would go for that, but shipping enemies is a very common fandom thing

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

I wish I had more people shipping my characters because I'm all alone in it right now

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

@Nutty (Court of Roses) I'm doing the same in Ashes. I'm being super obvious about Anor x Rava being a future couple. XD

So far I haven't really gotten any comments about it. Idk if my readers care about romance at all.

Which is okay, because I don't really write much romance into my comics.

Even though I secretly wish for a bit of shipping from readers.

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

I have to find out how visibly and obviously gay the characters have to act before people pick up on it

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

sssfrs, your comic just doesn't feel like the kind of comic people would ship characters in, though. Even the relationship between the captain and the guy that left, though lovely, feels, i don't know, too mature to really ship?

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

It's not the focus of the plot though so it's not essential just would be fun

Deo101 [Millennium]

people were shipping page 2 for me so idk

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

That's a fair way to look at it

Deo101 [Millennium]

apparently they need to be next to eachother , in my experience

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

i think the art style plays a part, too

people were shipping my characters also from page two. But I have a "prettier" style than sssfrs

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Yeah, I think the only way readers even know my characters are queer is from the extra art I make of them for Pride month each year. On panel the gay isn't incredibly obvious.

Deo101 [Millennium]

yeah, and I do WANT people to ship them so its not like I mind. I like shippers (when they are in line with my plans)

eli [a winged tale]

Yes Deo!! Exactly

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

Some characters I think have a great dynamic but I just haven't published enough of the material that shows their chemistry yet so I can't blame anyone for not seeing it

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

^same for me

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

looking forward to seeing that in both your comics!

i follow both

eli [a winged tale]

That’s fair ssfrs I’m all for the slow burn

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

It's true that my goal isn't to make the characters visually attractive and appealing in that way as much as in personality and interactions

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

I do keep seeing people leave 1* ratings for Eryl on WT and I can't help but wonder if it's homophobes angry about a character sheet I shared that mentioned the character was lovingly raised by two dads. Bc there has been nothing really controversial on-panel in the comic, and I have such a small audience it has no other reason to keep attracting hate.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

yeah, that's what i was trying to say. couldn't think of a good way to say that though. but i like your art and feel like it fits your story well

( at sssfrs)

i don't think there are a large number of homophobes on WT. If anything, there's an overabundance of the opposite- fetishists

people leave 1 star on WT for random reasons like you not updating enough

don't worry about it

eli [a winged tale]

Link your webcomics? With <> . Love to check them out

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/puppeteer/list?title_no=290620

Deo101 [Millennium]

I get a lot of fetishists, yeah....

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/dark-wings-eryl/list?title_no=287293

Deo101 [Millennium]

https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/millennium/list?title_no=110866

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Idk, maybe they don't like that I update in traditional pages, then, Who knows

All I know is every time my ratings start crawling back up, suddenly they'll take a big hit.(edited)

Deo101 [Millennium]

idk, some people just seem to do that kinda thing

I have thought it could be other creators before, too...

trying to make less competition or something. but that would be cruel and I dont like to think someone would do that

so I prefer to think its just someone who didnt like my stuff

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

eh i prefer to think the best of people

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

It's not like I'm super successful or anything. The algorithms haven't been kind to either of my comics so I'm hardly competition.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

i'm not going to think it's other creators

Deo101 [Millennium]

yeah that's what Im saying

like its popped in my head and then I was like literally who would do that

thatd be reaaaaal messed up

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

hey, how to i add my comic name in paren to my name on this server?

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Unfortunately I know a lot of creators who would. They just don't hang out in spaces like these.

Deo101 [Millennium]

just edit your nickname in the options

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

Mine is called Joe Is Dead, on here http://joeisdead.com/ and on tapas https://tapas.io/series/JoeIsDead

Deo101 [Millennium]

oh right I actually have another comic. It was on hiatus over a year so I havent gotten into the habit of sharing it...

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Yeah, go to the ... next to the server name and it opens up a menu with the 'change nickname' option.

Deo101 [Millennium]

https://tapas.io/series/Time-and-Time-again

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

I put the title in my name

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

My other comic is here on WT: https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/children-of-shadow-ashes/list?title_no=145048&page=1

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

i just don't like dismissing negative feedback. I don't want to get negative reviews and just brush them off as jealous people because i know my comic definitely has room to improve and would rather negative feedback motivate me to look for ways how

got it, thanks!

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

I love negative feedback. I want to put out the best work I can & hearing what people don't like or don't think is working helps me do that

Deo101 [Millennium]

theres constructive feedback, and then theres people telling me my characters are stupid and I think I can brush the latter off

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Unfortunately, I have been the victim of vicious jealous reviews. I've seen a lot of ugly in the webcomic world over the many years I've been doing this. Some creators be petty.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

@sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD) hm if i were to give negative feedback about your comic I'd say the biggest things are that you have a lot of characters that in my mind are kind of hard to differentiate, and also it can be really hard to tell where your characters are in space. But those don't matter too much, as they both will probably get better with time. Your biggest strength imo in your dialogue anyways

keii4ii

Not every negative feedback is relevant to my goals, is key for me. It's the whole "you can't please everyone" principle. My target audience does not include every person out there. If my target audience falls in love with what I make, then that's success for me. I don't need to impress the rest of the world.

keii4ii

(Thanks Tatsu.)

Deo101 [Millennium]

You have a different definition of "negative feedback" than I do.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

who are you referring to?(edited)

Deo101 [Millennium]

You

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

in what way?

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

I can usually tell the difference between 'This person has a different idea of what this story should be than I do' and 'This person has it out for me because of jealousy or spite'

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

Yeah I've found it really hard to juggle the consistency with where characters are standing all the time. I write out lists of the order they're spatially located in an effort to keep track of them. Hopefully I'll get better with practice

Deo101 [Millennium]

the negative feedback I am talking about is basically straight up hate. Constructive criticism, pointing out the flaws of a work, isnt "negative feedback" by my definition.

so saying "I want negative feedback" means something different for you than it does for me.

i WILL dismiss people being straight up rude to me

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

hm, I feel like a lot of people define negative feedback the same way i do, constructive criticism about what you could do better. If you say you dont want negative feedback you might get people thinking you don't want critique at all. imo what you are referring to might be more clearly just called "hate"

Deo101 [Millennium]

I'll consider it if someone is trying to help, even if most of the time I ignore it

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

I also get the random 1 star ratings on Webtoon, so I think some people are just easy to hate stuff(edited)

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

yo sssfrs, you keep track of where characters are in space by writing lists??

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

These are probably also the same people who dislike videos habitually on Youtube

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

i can't imagine working with that

Deo101 [Millennium]

I actually dont want critique at all.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

it seems so hard

Deo101 [Millennium]

not if I dont ask for it.

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Con crit and hate aren't the same thing, though

One is genuinely trying to help you improve, the other is just trying to bring you down.(edited)

And it's okay to not want the former

Deo101 [Millennium]

and I would say "negative feedback" doesnt include con crit

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Just because you make something doesn't mean you have to want people to give crit on it.(edited)

Yeah

I agree, because GOOD con crit is usually polite because if the person knows what they're talking about, they were where you are now and will be nice about it.

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

From my experience the best critiques come from other artists doing similar work to you

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

i don't think all negative con crit is helpful, either. people also need to know what their strengths are so they know what to keep instead of just what to remove

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

They might not even be trying specifically to be nice about it

But their words feel less hurtful

eli [a winged tale]

I feel like there are comments which are reviews (fair enough, everyone has subjective opinions) but I feel like constructive criticisms should be more private and take place in specific settings (most importantly where the creators are in a position of wanting them)

Nutty (Court of Roses)

@eli [a winged tale] https://courtofroses.spiderforest.com/

eli [a winged tale]

What I think most readers don’t understand or know is that the comic that does make its way to the public quite often has already been through rigorous critique and feedback

Nutty (Court of Roses)

(sorry, was late to that haha, i agree on your feelings about crits)

Deo101 [Millennium]

see, I dont know what you mean by "negative con crit" In my experience, a critique that is negative is not a critique and is more an opportunity for someone to flex.

helpful critiques may FEEL negative, because they are pointing out your flaws, but they arent negative

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

i think you're defining "negative" and "hateful" the same way, but other people are not(edited)

eli [a winged tale]

I call them constructive feedback. Then on the other hand, yeah there are negative comments that are there to serve the OP’s sentiments(edited)

Deo101 [Millennium]

I use constructive if it is helpful, and negative if it is harmful

eli [a winged tale]

But I just don’t think the comment platform supports the constructive feedback part. The comments currently represent the OP’s views which are very much subjective. It’s hard to know if they are providing feedback from a place of knowing story structure/art competency

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

critique does mean a lot more when I ask for it from an artist I respect

eli [a winged tale]

Indeed. It’s quite an intimate process

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

but i can still take casual comments into consideration when trying to improve

things like, it's confusing, or i don't understand what's happening

eli [a winged tale]

I think trust in the critiquer’s background and intention for you to improve are imperative(edited)

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

speaking of comments that say the comic is confusing, god i hate getting those comments the most. Because they come from people genuinely trying to read and like my comic and represent a failure of my storytelling skills

eli [a winged tale]

Plus there is a skill/art (no pun intended haha) to giving feedback. That’s a whole nother can of worms

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

but better to hear that and know it than not

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

It's not always a failure of storytelling skills, though. Some people's brains work along a certain line, and when a story is told that doesn't gel with that, it seems confusing to the person. That doesn't mean the writing was bad, it just means that the author communicates differently than the reader.(edited)

Deo101 [Millennium]

^ thats what I was gonna say

I have a small group of people who I trust who are editors, writers, or artists. I go to them to see if I'm doing the best I can for my goals.

if people get confused then there isnt too much more that I can do...

not saying my work is perfect, of course...

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

i can't just brush it off by saying I communicate differently than the reader when I'm trying to communicate to the reader

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

But not every reader is your audience, though

Nutty (Court of Roses)

^^^^

your message sometimes can't reach certain people, and that's not your fault

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

If all the readers are confused, that's one thing. If only a few are, well, your writing style just wasn't for them.

eli [a winged tale]

For sure. Agree Capn and Deo. There’s a lot of work that goes behind the scenes that readers are unaware

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

true true. But there are a few people who have said the same things, so I've taken those to heart and added dialogue that made it more clear. I don't regret that

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Your comic is public, and it's going to be seen by a very wide variety of people with all different kinds of reading comprehension and tastes. You're never going to appeal to all of hem, and plenty won't understand what you're trying to do. But that doesn't mean what you're making is bad. It just means it, like every story, is for a particular audience.

Yeah, if it's a repeated crit, it is something to keep in mind, but just remember that incorporating a crit shouldn't change what you're trying to do, only refine it.

Deo101 [Millennium]

Ive had a couple people say "I'm confused but Im enjoying whats going on" and I dont even know what I would begin to do about that

eli [a winged tale]

I usually trust my beta readers for that. If there are confusing parts then I would ask them how to clarify that best

I think these creator based forums are best to seek feedback and see what could potentially be remedied

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Of course. And I don't think my comic is bad. But one example was when I realized some confusion stemmed from me having a speech bubble that read, "without her," and didn't realize "her" could refer to two different characters which would make what was being said have two very different meanings. It's easy to overestimate how understandable your story is as an author that already knows everything that's going on. I think confusion is a good thing to pay attention to- I've definitely read comics before and dropped them because the author didn't pay enough attention to introducing things to the audience

(also dropped comics because they paid too much attention to introducig things but)

Deo101 [Millennium]

yes, like I said I have a small group of friends who are all writers, editors, and artists who can give me a pretty dang good beta read.

eli [a winged tale]

They are so great. Don’t know what I’d do without them

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

At that point I'd honestly keep going with what you have - there are several stories I've gone into with confusion, but also greatly enjoyed them, or even got less confused over time. Some readers need time to put the pieces together. So long as someone enjoys it on some level, I think that makes the comic successful. Maybe not completely - but not every comic will be everything to all people.

eli [a winged tale]

Indeed. Sometimes as well you gotta trust your story writing/art skills.

Deo101 [Millennium]

yup!

and like I'm not doing too bad for my first comic so I think I got something going for me at least.

I understand I have room to grow...

but I would like to keep that to people who I trust wont steer me wrong

eli [a winged tale]

Always room to grow for sure!

Deo101 [Millennium]

and arent just pushing what they want from me on me

eli [a winged tale]

Indeed. Feedback/ beta reading has its own set of skills. There’s always places to improve but the key is to determine specifically where that can be and how feasible(edited)

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

I remember the first time I read Unsounded, I had absolutely no idea what was going on because of how Ashley structures her world-building. But there were aspects of it that were very engaging, so I stuck with it. After finishing the archives, I went back and reread. Now that I understood what all the terms meant, it made perfect sense on the second go-round. It's now one of my favourite webcomics. Some stories are just told differently, and that's okay.(edited)

eli [a winged tale]

There’s certainly an element of trust you must put to the creators that it’ll all make sense at the end

Deo101 [Millennium]

someone got very mad at me for how I have shown my trans characters so far.. I had to explain that the story isnt done yet, and they have to trust I'll bring it up

it's a WIP and there is some trust that NEEDS to be had

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

lol I have only one artist/writer friend (struggles of working in a non-art career), and she understands everything I write exactly as I intended it and I love it. But she's my friend for a reason- we tend to think the same way and read similar things. Don't think it's wrong to try to cater to a wider audience as well

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

@Deo101 [Millennium] I wonder if anyone will react once I reveal that Anor is intersex/trans on panel. I'm really hoping I don't find out if any of my readers are transphobes -or- angry that he isn't ostentatiously trans.

Deo101 [Millennium]

someone was mad I didnt show my cyborg transitioning cause it could be so cool of a concept to see his original robot body and I was like literally none of what you said applies to him also thats kinda gross

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Wut

Deo101 [Millennium]

YEAH

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

There might be some transphobes. But it's worth dealing with them for the people who your comic will resonate with more for having a trans character in it

Deo101 [Millennium]

alsooooo some people might be upset, but then they will leave and you will be left with better people.

Nutty (Court of Roses)

I feel like me having a non-binary character and insisting on correcting everyone who misgenders them deters transphobes away p quickly.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

^^^ some people will dislike, but those who like will really like

and a smaller, better fanbase is better than a larger one that cares less(edited)

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

hear hear

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

@Eightfish (Puppeteer) I'm hoping some will resonate with him! I don't think I've ever seen any intersex rep in any story, so I really want people to know they can have a hero like them.(edited)

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I'm trying to think of stories with intersex rep

I feel like there must be some, but I can't bring any up : /

Sazed from Mistborn is written as though he's intersex, but he clearly identifies as male and the story treating him as intersex actually feels a bit disrespectful

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Me neither. The only thing I've seen in stories is gross 'hermaphrodite' jokes when mocking a cis character.

I really want to give positive representation.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

webcomics have so much lgbt representation. I feel as though I must have seen an intersex character somewhere in there, but I'm not sure I have.(edited)

it feels kind of weird(edited)

I've seen characters that don't have genders because they're gods or whatnot but I feel like that's different

Deo101 [Millennium]

I mean, I have intersex characters I supposed but theyre alien genders so I also think that's different and wouldnt call them intersex

DanitheCarutor

I don't know the whole conversation, but @Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios), you'll be fine! Most transphobic people quietly leave, only the really sad, pitiful ones make a stink and their opinions are pretty laughable. If you get crap laugh in their faces like they're morons. I would also say my character Julian is intersex, but I'm not sure how much it counts since it was a recent decision I made (after doing a lot of research) due to readers headcanoning them as an intersex character.

I think I know of a couple other comics with intersex characters if you want to check out some, lemme go look through my lists.

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

@DanitheCarutor I'd love to see other comics with intersex representation! And I think Julian totally counts? I don't see a problem with reconsidering a character's sex, gender, or orientation as we become more aware of issues in the world, or even just more aware of our own characters. Webcomics are always a work-in-progress and things change as we go.

eli [a winged tale]

@DanitheCarutor I’d love to know them too!

keii4ii

Re: clarity and confusion, sometimes a small change in wording or such can improve the clarity greatly, and that's great! But I agree that reader confusion doesn't necessarily = failure in storytelling. I've published my comic first in Korean, and a much improved version in English. The cultural difference in the audience has shown to be a huge factor in terms of what's clear and what isn't, or how certain things come across. And that's just one factor.

DanitheCarutor

So I only know of one comic personally, Drop-Out! Sure the characters are anthros, and the bubbles can be hard to read, but it is one of my favorite comics! Of course it's kinda heavy so be aware of that. http://drop-out.thecomicseries.com/ Although I checked out the Webcomic Library tagpacker and found a few. (including Drop-Out) https://tagpacker.com/user/webcomic.library?t=Intersex LGBT Webcomics also has a few that aren't listed in the above list. https://tagpacker.com/user/lgbtwebcomics?t=intersex @Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios) Lol yeah, I guess so. My readers made me put a lot of thought into it, and after the research being intersex actually fits a lot better with Julian's type of gender dysphoria and confusion than when they were AAB male. It also make some small, more intimate parts of the story feel more natural? It's hard to explain, it just feels better.(edited)

keii4ii

Like, making my work as accessible as possible has never been a goal for me with this story. So to me, it's not a failure that a large number of people can't see parts of the story that aren't being spelled out. I can totally respect "I want my work to be more accessible, so if all these people are not Getting It, then I need to do a better job" as a valid stance. Just not one I'm taking. It's all about individual goals and priorities.

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Oh boy, writing a fantasy story with a very developed culture is kinda scary, because NOBODY is going to pick up on cultural nuances except for me(edited)

Deo101 [Millennium]

I DO want my work to be more accessible/reach a wider audience, but that still doesnt mean it will be for everyone, too.(edited)

keii4ii

Not gonna lie, I get a little salty when I see someone claiming their story is "for everyone." I feel like such a claim is disrespectful to different cultures and tastes.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

i just started drop out and damn, that's one hell of an opening

Deo101 [Millennium]

Yeah I genuinely don't think it's possible to make a story for everyone lol

like... idk literally just by making it "sci fi" that excludes many people who just don't like sci-fi

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

i've never seen anyone claiming their story is for everyone

Deo101 [Millennium]

I feel like just to get to your premise, not even your personal execution you're already super narrowing the people down who will be interested

which is fine!!! and is necessary to accept imo

keii4ii

@Eightfish (Puppeteer) I've seen it. Not often but I've definitely seen it.

I've even seen a creator accuse another person of being heartless because the person was not interested in their Very Emotional And Universally Heartfelt comic, so uhhh yeah

Deo101 [Millennium]

Ope

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Well then

That just sounds like an illusioned creator

Deo101 [Millennium]

I kinda like to think of it like music

I dont like a lot of songs that other people love, it's not that they're bad songs just... not for me(edited)

keii4ii

Yeah! I also think the word "taste" is very fitting

Deo101 [Millennium]

yeah for sure

keii4ii

Some of us can eat ghost peppers like popcorns. Others would even avoid like... crackled black pepper

Deo101 [Millennium]

ahahhahaha

mac n cheese has a very wide audience, but some people aren't into it

DanitheCarutor

@Eightfish (Puppeteer) Lmao! Drop-Out is quite a unique piece of fiction. I have also seen creators who say their comic is for everyone, then get made when someone isn't interested.

Deo101 [Millennium]

I'm gonna start saying millennium is like mac n cheese now

keii4ii

@Deo101 [Millennium] That reminds me of "what drink would your comic be" !!

Deo101 [Millennium]

ahahahahah

someone: my comic is WATER EVERYONE NEEDS IT

keii4ii

I answered: "I want HoK to be liquid bacon fat, so that it'll stay in your heart forever."

Deo101 [Millennium]

ew LMAO

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

even if your comic is water, some people don't drink water

Deo101 [Millennium]

but cute? I gues????

DanitheCarutor

That sounds like a fun game, "If your comic were food what would it be?"

Mine would be sardine pizza, only weirdos like it.

Deo101 [Millennium]

next weeks creator babble question

LMSLDJGLASJGK

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

@DanitheCarutor its got such good art. The characters are so unique and expressive. Don't think I've seen anyone not use anti-aliasing on such detailed art before, but it works here

almost all webcomics are some weird food. We're niche just by nature

DanitheCarutor

It DOES have great art! And it gets better as you go too, by the time I reached the end then looked back on the first pages for nostalgia it was almost like night and day with the quality.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

fuck, really? but it's so polished already

DanitheCarutor

I mean, I guess that's not something to get excited about, most webcomics get better artwise as they go. Lmao! But still!

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

i love how the about page makes this sound like a fun roadtrip adventure

Deo101 [Millennium]

this feels mayble like the wrong chat for this discussion?

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

My comic would be a latte: A lot of people like it, but some people will never like coffee.

keii4ii

I can imagine HoK being like Chung Gook Jang soup? It's 1) Korean, 2) it warms you up, 3) it is very polarizing even among Koreans. It's kinda like... imagine miso soup on ultra mega steroid. Like a vegan version of supersharp stinky cheese. And 4) I love it.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

im alphabet soup because i have a fuckton of dialogue

Deo101 [Millennium]

I'm actually gonna stick with mac n cheese. a bit childish, but it's nice! you can do some fun things with it to shake things up, but it's still cheese and noodles.

keii4ii

Mac n cheese is amazing.

Deo101 [Millennium]

I love mac n cheese.

another reason why it's my comic! I love it, and it's something I can actually make

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

As for food, WotP would definitely something like authentic Mexican tacos. Again, generally well-received, but can be a bit intense for a lot of people

keii4ii

I really like food analogies. Sometimes it's not Gordon Ramsey you're trying to impress. Sometimes you want to make something you and/or your loved ones will enjoy, and if that's "WAY too much [ingredient]!!!!" for everyone else out there, that's not a flaw!

Deo101 [Millennium]

yeah! :D

keii4ii

That's actually good food for thought (no pun intended): what niche aspects does your comic contain? How/why are they niche?

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

@Eightfish (Puppeteer) How do you do it?

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

I think I once described mine as a corrupted tropical cocktail. On the surface: sweet, pretty, very colorful - but all the ingredients used to make it are rotten

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

I thought of Cricket as intersex for a long time and I still don't know exactly where I stand on that.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I draw a diagram of where characters/ furniture are from above. Niche things: Most conflicts are resolved through anticlimactic conversation. Also there's this huge bit about consensual mind control. I wrote the comic I'd want to read, and somehow found a few people like me to follow along

I also usually don't have more than 2 characters interacting

so it's easier for me

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

I have so many busy group scenes with people moving around. The most recent chapter was kind of a mess also because I wasn't really sure about the dimensions of the space they were all in

This scene was also pretty rushed in general

Re: intersex characters I feel like I've been shying away from that because I don't feel like I know enough about the topic to adequately represent intersex people

Joe Is Dead has a really specific aesthetic to it but I don't know how to define that niche. It's definitely something

Deo101 [Millennium]

I honestly could not answer that question about what niche things my comic contains. I don't know what about my comic is mainstream or not, I'm just making what I want to see and not really worrying about stuff like that.

keii4ii

For me, having an idea of what's niche about my comic actually lessens my worries!

It's a "okay, so I know these things are niche, which means people not liking or even getting those things =/= my failure!" kinda thing for me!

But I can also see how not thinking about what's niche or not can lessen the worries for others, too.

Deo101 [Millennium]

mhm, for me it means I can just go "well I like it anyways sooooooooo"

keii4ii

Yeah, that's the destination! We're just taking different routes to get there

Deo101 [Millennium]

I also genuinely just have a hard time determining whether or not something is niche

even if I thought about it for a while (I've been thinking about it since you asked, and I have thought about it before" I genuinely couldnt pinpoint it for you...

keii4ii

I used to beat myself up very badly every time someone didn't like a thing about my comic

Deo101 [Millennium]

keii4ii

and "oh, 1) this is subjective, 2) I like it like this, and 3) my liking of it is valid" was how I crawled out of that hole

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

I don't know if my comic is specifically niche, unless you count "low fantasy" (or essentially fantasy with less magic and such) as niche

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

My comic has a lot of specific nautical and history content that you could call niche

Also surrealism

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

i would call Joe Is Dead "niche," but not WoTP

I've read both

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

I... used to think my comics weren't niche. Ohohohohoho how wrong I was!

Deo101 [Millennium]

Id say millennium isnt niche then it's basically just gay sci fi it's p straightforward

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

My comics are very, incredibly, undeniably niche.

DanitheCarutor

@sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD) It is difficult to understand if you're not intersex yourself, even though I studied a lot before making the decision about my character I still don't know if I'll represent the topic properly. The best you can really do is get into researching all the medical stuff, talk to people willing to share their experiences with being intersex, and watch videos of people talking about it from a professional and personal perspective. The hardest thing to get right about something so subjective and personal is that everyone's experiences are different, so no matter how much you research you just gotta do your best with the info you have, then figure out how your character would experience it personally.(edited)

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

I don't think anything magical happens until Chapter 11 of WotP, now that I think about it

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Also @DanitheCarutor thank you for the links!! I'll have to give those comics a look!

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

I’m still backreading and I just saw the food question, that is great

JID would be saltcod

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Ooooh

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

Or like pickled herring maybe

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Bacalao

Noice

(Bacalao = Puerto Rican salted cod)

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

They have it in spain too iirc

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Ashes would be very bitter black coffee someone forgot to drink and it's just been sitting there for two days. Eryl would be well-aged wine spiked with tabasco sauce.

DanitheCarutor

Sorry for derailing. Anyways, I feel like my entire comic is just a ball of niche? The subject matters are uncommon and the main characters are awful and unreliable, but that's my aesthetic so I'm sticking to it. I've never particularly cared about people liking my comic due growing up not being liked myself (you kinda get over it after a while), but I do like finding people like me. @Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios) No problem! I hoard stuff like that, so I probably have a link for everything.

Urm, I don't mean I like finding unlikable people like me, I mean people who like the same types of stories as me.

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Honestly, Dani, I connect to your comic quite a lot, for what it's worth!

DanitheCarutor

Thank you! ;v; In a way it's kind of nice having a comic that doesn't fit in. It tends to stand out, especially with my choice of medium. Although at the same times it's really hard to get feedback that applies to what you're doing! Arg!

keii4ii

It is such a Struggle, for sure -- getting relevant feedback

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

I feel you! I'm in the same boat with Ashes. It's also incredibly niche and there just aren't that many pencil comics out there- coloured or graphite.

DanitheCarutor

Being a creator who likes feedback, but also likes making niche content, is so hard! Why can't everyone like niche content??

Lmao!

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

As niche as the setting and tone of Joe Is Dead are, the main story arc is a very generic hero adventure thing that I hope will appeal to wide audiences

eli [a winged tale]

Niche content

I’d love to know more! What niches are you exploring?

snuffysam (Super Galaxy Knights)

The nicest thing anyone's said about Super Galaxy Knights Deluxe R http://sgkdr.thecomicseries.com/comics/ is that they really became invested in the characters. Like, that's the kind of story I want to make - the kind where the characters really stick with you.

snuffysam (Super Galaxy Knights)

As for what food my comic would be... I'd say squid ink pasta. It's the kind of food that makes you go "what the heck is going on here" if you're new to it, but once you actually eat it you'll (hopefully) go "oh, that made way more sense than i expected and was actually pretty tasty"

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

I don't know if you're talking to me directly but I'm using a lot of maritime history and literature stuff that I've been obsessed with for a long time as the setting of the story, and then the whole thing has a really morbid and nihilistic tone, while also somehow being funny because I have a background in comedy/satire writing

And then heavy biblical themes

It's essentially a Renaissance period retelling of the Joseph story from the bible

With pirates instead of shepherds

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

For me, I’m not even sure what niche Ashes belongs to. (https://www.flowerlarkstudios.com/cos/) It’s dark, it’s weird, it has a twisty plot that slowly trickles information, and it’s an odd mash-up of genres. I often try to describe it as Miss Peregrine’s Peculiar Children meets Farthing Wood. It’s mostly urban fantasy with some horror elements and talking animals. Basically it’s about a bunch of unaging teenagers with supernatural, angel-gifted powers and a bunch of woodland critters fighting (although so far it’s more running from) eldritch monsters. But it’s main focus is on each character battling either mental illness or some other kind of inner demon.

keii4ii

There's also the aspect of: what's niche in one culture may not be niche in another. In Korean media, Fantastical Old Korea is a very common setting for all sorts of genres: gag a day, romance, all-ages adventure, gritty crime drama, zombie apocalypse, you name it. If the work spends a lot of visuals showing mundane everyday moments, often that's a shorthand for "sit down and stay a while; this is a heartfelt tale that takes its time." My comic uses such a setting. When I began to publish it in English, I was surprised that people were expecting it to be one of these AND NOTHING ELSE: a) exciting magical action adventure b) mythology-driven, all about gods and spirits My comic is neither of those. It definitely contains elements of adventure, but that's the plate the meat is served on, not the meat itself. So I guess the usage of the setting is niche.

Like, imagine a civilian life drama set in WWII time. The civilian MC may have a family member or a close friend in the military, but the story focuses on the MC's experience. Imagine presenting that story and people expect it to be... military action? Not a perfect analogy, but hopefully a good enough one.

Kelsey (Kurio)

To be fair, Korea would find fantastical old Korea less exotic than those outside of Korea heh

keii4ii

That is definitely a factor. Even today, you can find semi-Old Days-like places IRL within like... 3 hours of drive.

I'm weirded out that my culture is considered exotic, but it is what it is

(To clarify, weirded out =/= offended.)

Kelsey (Kurio)

Well any culture can be exotic to people outside of that culture

As an outsider looking in, it can be fascinating to learn about a culture I don't know much about

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Anything unfamiliar is usually considered exotic. I know in both England and America, I never really learned anything about any Asian country growing up. I had to seek out the info myself, and as it was very unfamiliar to me, it seemed exotic!

Kelsey (Kurio)

Especially their myths and stories

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Oops, exactly what Kelsey said, I typed too slow.

keii4ii

Yeah, the thing is I've been told I should not be using this setting to tell this story because it's a doomed combination. But ehh, I decided not to listen to that. This story with this setting and all of its elements is what I wanted to read.

carcarchu

slice of life set in a historical setting sounds really refreshing actually(edited)

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

But I know I’d probably feel strange if someone told me New York was exotic!

carcarchu

sometimes historical settings can get really bogged down by politics and whatever other drama, having a quiet slow paced story set in the same kind of world is something i'd be interested in reading

Kelsey (Kurio)

Nothing wrong with trying the approach you want to

Who knows, you might end up with a unique combo that helps your work stand out

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Yup. I’m a firm believer in writing the kind of story you’d want to read. No matter how niche.

Tuyetnhi

Totes agreed on this. For me, when I had to drop my dark drama series for my romance story, folks were like "Dang, I thought you like writing dark things!"

I do, but romance comics.... [clenches chest]. I also want to write a story that I want to read so lmao. Dream lover elements along with some dark horror influences is something I want to try doing lol

carcarchu

this is not a webcomic but try reading coelacanth if you're interested in the combination of horror with romance @Tuyetnhi

Tuyetnhi

ooo I'll keep that in mind

carcarchu

it's really so unique i love coelacanth so much

Tuyetnhi

is it a novel? :0

carcarchu

it's a manga

Tuyetnhi

aaa

Yeah I probably check it out sometime lmao

back on the idea tho, I also wanted to add some Vietnamese influences in the mix since there's not a lot of stories about Vietnamese disapora, so that's included in the cauldron lol

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

@keii4ii what's your comic? I wanna check it out(edited)

keii4ii

@Eightfish (Puppeteer) It's https://heartofkeol.com/

(I get extremely nervous whenever I know someone is checking out my comic for the first time )

DanitheCarutor

To answer @eli [a winged tale] question. I'm delving into stuff like mental illnesses and disorders, medical illnesses, abuse, trauma and later on, self-care. The comic itself is slow and character centric, I guess you can say it's like a character study. The story can be really depressing depending on who is reading, and it has some softcore horror bits sprinkled in. I'm kind of a nerd for mental health, sad stuff and everything medical so I figured I may as well make a story embellishing those interests. In short it's a sad, character driven, psychological drama about two extremely flawed individuals. Not particularly exciting compared to all the other webcomics out there, but somebody has to make that one pretentious, psychological slice of life piece.

keii4ii

What compounds my issues is that my comic does have enough adventure elements for someone to mistake it for an underwhelming adventure story. "This is an adventure story but there's not enough adventure in it?" kinda thing.

@DanitheCarutor Character studies FTW!!! Yours has been on my 'gotta check this out' list for a long time now!

Tuyetnhi

Oooo

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

I also am a fan of psychological stories

Especially if they're sad(edited)

Tuyetnhi

Kei idk why but I was reminded of .hack SIGN when u said that

"there's so much talking! where's the action?!?"

keii4ii

@Tuyetnhi That's actually not a terrible comparison -- though .hack//SIGN has other issues that my comic hopefully doesn't have XD

Tuyetnhi

I'm pretty sure it's miles better than that old anime lmao

DanitheCarutor

@keii4ii Pff I need to check out your comic too! I remember reading it at one point, but I don't remember what happened to make me lose track. From what little I remember I really liked it.

keii4ii

The thing with .hack//SIGN was it had a lot of promises of mystery that never went anywhere, within SIGN. I've heard those mysteries do go somewhere within the franchise, but you had to watch/read the entire franchise, which I wasn't going to do. I hope my comic will be a good read on its own, when finished.

Tuyetnhi

sadly, I was one of those suckers that went to consume the .hack games and mangas to get some context from SIGN in the late 2000's lmao

I hope the same as mine, despite being mostly saccharine and self-indulgent nature lmao

keii4ii

Self-indulgence is a strength of indie comics.

eli [a winged tale]

I love all the themes y’all explore! They’re so important

Tuyetnhi

I feel like I have a reason for everything when working on that comic but if that's what it boils down to, I'll take it lol

keii4ii

TBH I produce my best writing and art when I focus on pleasing myself.

Because if I'm trying to please others, I don't even know what they want, so I waste my energy panicking.

But when I'm creating for my inner reader, I can be self-critical in a productive manner!

Tuyetnhi

so true ya

RebelVampire

Hey guys. I kind of feel as this has deviated a smidgen too far from the topic, so maybe reel it in just a smidgen. XD(edited)

Desnik

so the nicest thing anyone's ever said about my comic is that they wanna read more :3

I kinda dread reader dropoffs so the will to see the whole story through fills me with joy

#ctparchive #comics #webcomics #indie comics #comic chat #comic discussion #comic tea party #ctp #creator interview #comic creator interview #creator babble

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ruby-grapefruit · 5 years ago

Text

The Erilean Empire | Chapter 2

AU: The Vlag never came to discover their world. Maeve and her three Kings stayed trapped in their dark realm, never knowing the terror and near destruction they could have caused in the land in which a fire-bringer lived. Though their darkness stayed away, the greed of men could never be truly staunched. True peace is only a figment of the imagination. War shattered Erilea anyways and without the might of the Wyrdkey to strengthen the Kingdom of Terrasen, the King of Adarlan and his armies swept across the land, invading Melisande and Fenharrow. Only the combined might of Terrasen and Eyllwe managed to keep them at bay. Yet fighting a war on two borders could only be sustained for so long and Eyllwe has at last fallen to the might of Adarlan. Only the Aelin, the fire-bringer, stands a chance of stopping the King and uniting Erilea.

A/N I had this idea for a rowaelin AU and I just had to start writing. I’d love to hear what y'all think so far.

FF.Net & A3O

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Rating: Mature

“The King paused and looked over his shoulder at her. She smiled, a wicked, wild thing.” – Sarah J Maas, Assassin’s Blade

Soft and cooling, the wind rushed through her lace nightgown sending a cascade of shivers across her skin.

Ahead the ocean spread wide across the horizon, its reflection twinkling in the morning sun. She dipped down towards it; fingers splayed wide as she trailed a hand through its smooth surface.

Laughing at the freedom of it, she twirled, golden hair spinning outwards. In a smooth arch she lifted upwards, towards the sun, enjoying the warm touch of its hands on her bare skin, its pressure sending tingles up her spine and with a delighted shout she—

Launching herself upwards off the bed, Aelin clutched a knife between bone white fingers.

Blinking quickly, she groaned as she beheld the frightened maid whose small hands were up in the air at the foot of her bed. Behind her stood a second maid carrying a tray of steaming food.

“Sorry princess!” The first maid apologized nervously, “You have to be at the signing of the treaty in two hours. We’re here to help you get ready.”

Falling backwards Aelin sighed and brought the heels of her palms to her eyes,

“Ugghhh.” She groaned, “I’ll be up in a minute. Can you start a bath? And leave the food please!”

“Yes, Highness!” the first maid curtsied before she shuffled away.

Once they were around the corner the second maid began giggling and Aelin couldn’t help but smile as she chastised her friend, “I told you that would happen if you tried to wake her!”

Despite the grim events of the day, Aelin felt lighter. She’d dreamed she was flying again.

These dreams had been gracing her since she was a child and regardless of their peculiarity, they always seemed to make her feel better. Alive.

It was a gift, in fact, for the dream to arrive the night before the treaty signing. Though she wasn’t Queen yet, she’d have to make an appearance. And since the most important agreement in the treaty was the engagement of herself with prince Dorian, Emperor Havilliard and King Galathynius had agreed that they should both sign as well.

Two weeks.

It had been two weeks since she’d agreed to go along with Orlon’s plan, and they had yet to sit down and discuss the intricacies of what her ‘mission’ would entail. She’d been waiting and waiting for the opportunity, eager to have something else to put her heart and soul into. But Orlon had been busy.

Instead, unable to avoid it, Aelin had spent the last two weeks mourning. She’d mourned Ren, she mourned the soldiers she’d killed, and though she didn’t dare admit it, she mourned for herself.

Sighing she made her way out of bed and allowed the maids to help prepare her for the day.

Not a second sooner, she was out the door and striding down the hall in strong, confident strides.

Aelin’s hair was wrapped around her head in large braid. Small bits curled to frame her slender face. Her makeup had been done subtly, only enough to emphasize her unnatural Fae beauty. Her pointed ears arched delicately beneath the braid.

Though she didn’t often utilize her Fae form she couldn’t help but appreciate the grace, and frankly, royal appearance it gave her.

She was dressed in a floor-length gown of various shades of green, starting from an almost white at her collar bone and fading to an almost black down at her feet. It was fitted across her torso before softening to an elegant flowing material at her waist. Embroidered along its entire length was a gold thread forming various branches and leaves. She wore no jewelry apart from the small crown gracing her head. On its peak a beautiful green emerald twinkled.

“You look nice.” Aedion said, as he met her just outside.

Though neither of them wanted to acknowledge it, their relationship had been strained during the past two weeks. He tried to hide it, but sometimes she found Aedion staring at her hands, and she wondered if he too saw the blood she couldn’t seem to wash away.

Aelin glanced at him quickly and raised an eyebrow.

He was wearing his decorative armor, the gold pieces strapped across his chest, arms, and legs, shining in the morning light as he walked.

“So do you.”

“Special occasion, you know.” He grinned, cocking his head to the side.

She looked away before he caught her eye.

That was one thing she couldn’t seem to do anymore. His eyes held too much of his heart and she didn’t let dare allow herself to see just how deeply she’d failed him.

“Mhm… Special, riiight. That damned Empire making so much fuss.” She mumbled incoherently.

Aedion grabbed her arm harshly, his grip tight, as he pulled her up to him and forced her to look into his eyes. They sparked with frustration.

“Aelin…” He warned, his voice low, coming out roughly between his clenched jaw. “Be careful what you say in front of the Emperor. We’re walking on thin ice here. Everyone just wants this to be over!”

Hissing, Aelin spun, glaring up at his stern face, “I know Aedion! Don’t you think I know that! I’m the one that has to marry that killer’s son so that we can all move on!”

“If you know how important it is then why are you saying things like that!” He almost shouted, before catching himself and lowering his voice to just above a whisper, “There are eyes everywhere!”

“I know how politics works!”

“Well then, think before you speak! You’re going to have to live in his house soon! You better learn how to keep your mouth shut or else you’re going to be killed.”

“Heh... They can try.”

“Aelin! This is serious.” He urged.

Sighing, she pinched the bridge of her nose, and closed her eyes briefly, “I know. It’s just, don’t you think I understand all that’s riding on me… I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Aedion took a deep breath before stepping back from her, “Sorry for snapping at you. I guess we’re all just a little tense.”

She forced a small smile to her lips, as they began walking again, “You don’t say.”

He tried to laugh lightly, but it was forced. They fell into silence and neither said a word the rest of the way.

Outside the small keep that they’d been residing in the past two weeks, Aelin and Aedion found horses awaiting them and the rest of their party.

A group of the kings’ advisors who Aelin had never bothered to remember the names of were already waiting in the courtyard. King Orlon and Lord Darrow didn’t take long to join them on their own horses. Gavriel, Aedion’s father, was the last to arrive. He nodded to Aelin as he mounted his own horse, and they at last rode out of the gates and began to make their way back towards the desiccated battlefield.

Her mother had been invited to come as well, as a representative for her late father, but had decided to stay in Orynth. She was much more helpful there anyways as they’d been an influx of delegates from across the world arriving to join in the festivities of the upcoming wedding, now only two months away.

That had been one of the conditions of the treaty, not only had they agreed to marry, but they’d even selected a date and begun preparations in Rifthold. She’d be leaving for Rifthold in month. Aelin tried her best to forget that, forget that she’d be leaving her home for only the gods know how long.

She knew her mother was better off staying in Orynth, anyways. Aelin didn’t doubt that her mother and aunt, Aedion’s mother, were having a great time with the Wendlyn and Doranelle delegates that had arrived two weeks ago. She’d heard that the Faery Queen Sellene Whitethorn herself was here, and hoped she’d brought along Endymion.

When her parents had sent to Doranelle two years after the beginning of the war she’d been trained by Enda. During the two years she spent prowling the mountains and fields of Doranelle they’d grown close and she considered him like an older brother.

They hadn’t seen each other since she was 17, when she’d come back home in an effort to help the war effort after her father had been killed. Stabbed through the back on the battlefield by the Emperor’s favorite Fae dog, Cairn.

Rumor had it, that he’d been the one to train Dorian. And Aelin’s blood turned cold at the thought.

Straightening her back she banished all thoughts and looked to the large tent that had been set up in the middle of the barren land.

When they entered the tent, Gavriel hovering over King Orlon’s shoulder and Aedion hovering over her own, the Emperor was already comfortably seated and sipping on a glass of wine.

Aelin’s eyes narrowed and she felt Aedion tense up behind her as Prince Dorian’s sapphire eyes swung to her immediately. When he noticed her gaze, his lips curled into a brutal, coy smile, that only made her frown deepen.

It took Gavriel giving her a stern look from across the room for her to reign in her emotions. She plastered a fake smile across lips, which seemed to only make Dorian’s smile widen, his eyes twinkling.

Distracted by Dorian, it took her a second to notice the other set of eyes that hovered across her face.

Cairn.

Struggling internally, she barely stopped the snarl that attempted to escape her lips as she noticed him sitting just behind Dorian.

Cairn leaned forwards, placing a hand on Dorian’s shoulder, and whispered something in his ear. Frowning lightly, Dorian nodded, before he tore his gaze from hers and began to assess the rest of their party.

Aelin took the seat to Orlon’s right, as Darrow took the one to the left.

“Welcome Majesty!” The Emperor grinned. Raising his glass, he gestured to the troupe of servants who hovered at the edges of the tent, “Refreshments?”

Nodding, Orlon lifted his hand as Darrow did the same, “Thank you.”

Around the party, advisors received glasses filled to the brim with wine. At their satisfied smiles, Aelin couldn’t help but wonder if this was all just a party for them.

After everyone had been serviced in wine and food, everyone except herself, Aedion, Gavriel and it seemed Dorian, the Emperor raised an arm to silence the room.

“Shall we get to the official stuff?” His voice was deep and boisterous. Despite his large rotund body and big smile, Aelin sensed an altogether different kind of creature prowled beneath his skin.

Some might mistake his dark eyes to be warm and inviting but their lack of colour speared right to her bones. Shivering she tried to keep her body relaxed as the emperor smiled and all Aelin saw was a blindingly cruel curl across his lips.

To her right, she saw Orlon give her a quick glance, before he put down his wine glass, now almost empty. “Yes, let’s bring out the treaty.”

“I had my advisors prepare a new copy, special for the occasion.” The Emperor explained as he waved over one of the advisors in the back of the room, “Why don’t you take a quick read, before we begin.”

A mousy advisor bowed before King Orlon, before presenting him with a large piece of paper.

Even from afar, Aelin couldn’t help but appreciate the quality of the paper and penmanship of the treaty as Orlon glanced down the sheet.

“Aelin.” Orlon said, as he passed her the treaty.

Though she already knew the majority of the agreements to which King Orlon was agreeing to she read through the treaty again:

All parties hereby agree to uphold the following agreements:

The formal union of the Erilean Empire and the Kingdom of Terresan through the marriage of Crown Prince Dorian Havilliard and Crown Princess Aelin Galathynius.

Until Aelin Galathynius takes her place as Queen of Terresan she will be considered a princess of the Erilean Empire as well as the Kingdom of Terresan.

Once Aelin Galathynius takes the throne of Terresan, formal nationhood will be dissolved and Terresan will join the Erilean Empire.

Until point 3 takes place the following regulations will be placed upon the Kingdom of Terrasen…

All new trading routes and partners must be approved by the Erilean Empire.

Every year a predetermined rate will be paid to the Erilean Empire, payment types include jewels, gold, cattle, wheat, etc…

….

…..

The Erilean Empire agrees to comply to the following regulations:

To provide land, air and sea protection to the Kingdom of Terresan.

To allow ease of access for Terresan citizens to all regions within the Empire.

….

…

…..

….

Should any of the previous agreements fail to be upheld immediate physical force will be authorized upon the party at fault.

Aelin handed back the form to Orlon, refusing to meet his gaze. Though she didn’t dare voice it she knew they’d conceded much, much more to the Empire than many would approve. Swallowing shallowly, she tried not to think about how they’d been forced to this because of her. Only the thought of her task kept her grounded. A task she refused to think too deeply of in the presence of the enemy.

You never know who might be listening in, a lesson she’d been imparted by Enda.

The Emperor was the first to sign. Then Dorian before it went to King Orlon, who after signing, passed the paper to her.

She held the thick material in her hands, fingers resting lightly on the surface. Reaching forwards, she grabbed the pen being presented, lowered her hand and—hesitated.

Across the room the gazes of everyone settled onto her, heavy and burning.

Aelin took a deep breath. Then another. The fate of her country was residing heavily on her shoulders. It was up to her. Exhaling deeply, she leaned forwards and hovered the tip of the pen above the sheet, right below King Orlon’s name.

Unthinking, she glanced upward. Looking for a friendly face? A soft gaze? She met Dorian’s ice-blue eyes. The side of his lips curled upwards as he saw her terror. Reveled in the fear she stuffed deep inside at the thought of failing her family, her friends and her people.

Her face twisted as she locked gazes with him. She smiled a wicked, crazed smile. And with flourish and a wild look on her face, Aelin signed the treaty.

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