#It drives me insane. Like why does internet get worse every year that's not how humanity is supposed to work | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pixiedoodlein · 3 years

Text

I’m so fucking mad that a year and a half into this pandemic I am back to 11th hour debating another year of homeschool. The first stretch of homeschool, in NYC, when the toddler was a baby, and husband was home on unemployment, was good, nice even, a quiet piece of something good when the world outside was falling apart. The next stretch, the Oklahoma stretch, with a particularly climby toddler, husband working 10 hour days, me doing remote contract work, somewhere we had no family around to help w/ childcare, was challenging. I was not always my best self. Some days were delightful, muffins and math games. Other days I was more Miss Trunchbull than Miss Honey, fractions were squeezed in between crying (usually mine) and netflix (way too much of hers), and I held on to any shred of sanity by telling myself “just a little longer, just until the vaccines.”

Well here we are. Husband & I have been vaccinated for months, but the kids aren’t yet. The upstate NY town we moved to is a very small town (pop: 838), was mostly untouched by previous waves. When we got here, I couldn’t understand why everyone was so lax about it- no masks, no panic. Our first day here, when I came home from the market and saw through the window a gaggle of unmasked kids in my living room (the neighbors coming to welcome us, they heard a kid moved in) I almost had a heart attack. In fact, I was so tired from the drive from OKC that for a moment I actually thought I was at the wrong house, that I was hallucinating, because how in the world could there be unmasked bodies in my living room.

Then I started talking to people here. And I realized that the way I thought they were insane for not being deathly afraid of covid, they thought I was insane for being petrified. Because the disease hadn’t hit here; their businesses were destroyed and their kids were out of school (in a rural area with barely functional internet, remote school = a lost year) and their lives were totally fucked up, for a disease that never arrived at their doorstep. I came to understand why they weren’t worried, why here life looked (almost) normal. I told them about what it was like to live somewhere covid tore through, the freezer trucks of bodies on the FDR Drive and my previously healthy 27yld brother so sick with it the first spring he thought he was about to die (but too scared to go to a hospital), my dad’s relative in the next NYC wave on a vent for months and lucky to be alive but may never walk again, the doctors in OKC pleading on the news to please wear a fucking mask because the hospitals were fucking full, and the neighbors stopped thinking I was psycho when I carried extra masks for their kids, and made them put them on, when I took them to town for ice cream. I never stopped masking. But we did indoor dine here (once, BBQ, it wasn’t delicious enough for how anxious I felt) and I did bring all the kids, including my toddler, to a fairly crowded children’s museum in the big (small) city an hour away, where the rest of us were masked but the one with his hands in his mouth, who was all up in other kids’ faces, the one who really should be masked, wasn’t because he won’t leave it on for more than a minute.

Actually it’s a lie to say that I never stopped masking- I have dashed into little stores here, without one, because I’m vaxed! It’s safe here! Covid felt done. We had friends come here to visit this summer. Friends who are vaxed, but that doesn’t seem to really matter enough anymore. We had the neighbors over for meals, indoors (you see, more indoor dining! A minute ago I was just thinking restaurants, but why would plagues only spread in restaurants?). They had us for meals. The girls are a crew, new best friends, making my daughter’s life here so, so much happier, constant sleepovers (their kids were at our house this afternoon; my kid is at their house right now). The parents and grandparents are wonderful, making my life here, and husband’s life here, so much easier, so much better. We help them with stuff, they help us with stuff, there isn’t a day that goes by that we don’t see each other, unmasked. Some of the adults in their household are vaxed; some of the adults in their household are not. The kids are all too young to be vaxed. But it (living, doing shit again, seeing people again) really stopped feeling scary; it really felt like everything was fine, normal-ish, normal-er. The end of the pandemic felt in sight.

I signed my child up for school here. Real school, not mommy school, school with a school bus. She was a little anxious, I had to talk her into it, I sold it hard, I bought her whatever pair of new sneakers she wanted for her new school (she hasn’t had gym class in a year and a half; for a phase in Oklahoma she wore one boot and one sandal every day, why not). She wasn’t anxious about sneakers or covid; she was anxious that maybe she hadn’t learned enough in homeschool (I am not a teacher! I did not homeschool because I am good at it or love it or wanted to, I homeschooled because I was scared of her getting covid at school and dying), that she would be behind. She isn’t behind. I followed the real school curriculum as best I could (as in: sometimes totally and sometimes not at all), and somehow, when I gave her the standardized “real school” test “at the end of the year” (aka the day I couldn’t take it anymore, I had to focus on my work or I wasn’t going to have an income, the day I’d decided we’d done as much as we could and it was time to be done), she sailed through it, this kid is smart. Smart as in needs to be in actual real fucking school to stay smart and learn and reach her potential.

She got excited- one of the neighbor kids is in her grade. The other kid is older- but the school is small, she’d see her tons. She was excited; I was excited. I registered her for school. Her new teacher sent a nice note. We all were excited. She’s never taken the school bus before but the neighbors take it and she’d be fine on the bus with her besties, the bus would pick her up in front of their house since there’s nowhere to turn around up our hill (we are VERY rural), they’d all get on and off the bus together. She has been backpack shopping. We have been discussing what she’ll have for breakfast (honey nut Cheerios), what she wants me to pack for lunch (she says just Goldfish, I say turkey sandwich, we’re working on it).

But now, 18 days before school starts here, I am thisclose to pulling her out, to embarking on another lovely (not), gratifying (not) year of homeschool, because of covid, delta. When we got to our new home in our new tiny town in June, there was no covid here. Now, our county is listed by the CDC as a high transmission area (is there anywhere in the US that isn’t?). 80% of senior citizens here are vaxed; 50% of the total population is, well below the national average. 15 cases per 100,000, in a county of 100,000. I guess this is less rampant than our previous pandemic locales, NYC (currently 25/100K), OKC (49/100K). This is splitting hairs, everywhere is bad. This is what panic does to me: are we better or worse for every decision we’ve made in the past year and a half, every decision that got us here? There are fewer cases here but fewer people and fewer vaccinated people and fewer ICU beds. We aren’t safe even here, but at least we are happy (happy aside from fear of delta death).

I don’t know whether to send my kid to school in 18 days. There will be masks but masks aren’t enough (how many masks do I make her wear? two, ten, a thousand?). This choice feels crazy— in March 2020, when that covid was mostly sparing kids, I yanked her out of school. Now, this covid does hurt kids. How much longer, how many more years, can parents be in this position to make this nightmare choice? What will hurt her more: school or no school? There are vaccines, more than enough in America. We shouldn’t be having to make this choice.

As it is, because of toddler— not because of toddler, because of being a parent to children in a pandemic— my work life, and husband’s, will be severely impacted this year, again. I can’t send him to daycare because he’s too little to leave a mask on (he won’t even leave his pants on!) in a room full of other unmasked toddlers, whose families may or may not be vaxd, may or may not wear masks (there has been a noticeable increase in supermarket mask wearing since we got here, but still not enough, is any of it enough?), may or may not be going to parties and weddings and funerals, daycare providers who may or may not be doing all the same. This means I can only apply to remote jobs, so I can be home with him. Husband has some flexibility, more than he did in OKC, but god forbid he has to work while I have a work call or meeting or work due I didn’t manage to get done at 4am or 11pm when the house is quiet. He can’t bring toddler to work with him, his work is up on scaffold, stenciling ceilings. This will be another year of me muting myself on Zooms while toddler pulls his diaper off and hurls poop at the cat. Would it really be so much harder to also be trying to teach parts of speech to our daughter at the same time? Yes, it would, but I don’t know if I can send my kids back out into the world until they’re vaccinated. I am counting the days, holding my breath, until they can be.

I used to believe in personal choice. I don’t anymore. I want this shit to be mandated, I want the government to line us up and force mRNA into holdouts’ arms, I want it to be required, to be able to function in and interact with and benefit from society in any way, shape, or form. I have been very lucky in the pandemic. Privilege stacked on privilege on privilege, to be fussing over my Zooms in my hamlet. I had been pretty pandemic perky, baking my pies and playing with my pandemic pets and (thinking about) doing puzzles, but I’ve reached my breaking point. This shit could be done, but it’s not, and I’m scared it never will be.

31 notes · View notes

ask-spider-man-61610 · 3 years

Note

So I think you’ve talked about your Doc Ock a bit on here... but have you ever encountered any other Ocks in other dimensions? How do they match up to yours?

Yes, I have. Doctor Octopus might not be exactly a universal constant, but it's certainly a common enough title that I've crossed paths with a fair number of them. I'm going to give a short little rundown of each of them, and why they should go to hell. This is gonna be a salty list. If you didn't want that, you should've come to someone else.

The Otto Octavius of Earth-1512 was the first alternate Ock I ever encountered. Unlike most of the Ocks on this list, I don't know or care what his deal is--I just spent an hour in my first ever alternate universe before I saw a man in armored green and yellow throwing cars around with mechanical tentacles. He was also working with the Green Goblin and holding civilians hostage at the time, which in my opinion is reason enough to put him in the ICU like I did. I've never been back to this universe and never will, but presumably he's just doing the same shit every month or so.

The Otto Octavius of Earth-8363, colloquially called God Ock because I guess we can't fucking help but stroke his ego, was the Ock I met during my first outing with what'd eventually be the Cluster. He's a weird edge case. First we fought a robotic duplicate of him, then his actual self after he'd done the dumbest thing I've ever seen an Ock do and integrated an extradimensional energy source into his fucking body in a bid for omnipotence. I suspect he was already basically dead when Gwen ripped the Shard out, but he had a backup personality on a secret hard drive and so we've met his AI self. He agrees it wasn't his smartest move. Still, fuck this guy. He apparently stabbed my alternate self in the back so he deserves what he got.

Oliver Octavius, of Earth-42711a, isn't a doctor. I refuse to call him Doctor Octopus, but he's calling himself that because he claims to be the son of Otto Octavius. Knowing Otto, I'm more than a little skeptical of that claim, but that doesn't change the fact that in a bid to be just like Daddy he dropped out of college to become a supervillain. When Melly noted that this plan was less than stellar he interpreted that as a personal betrayal and has sworn revenge on her. He's temperamental, idolizing of a man he's never met, and has an ego more fragile than sugar glass--and he's not even good at villainy. I walked into his lair, kicked his ass, and walked out again in less than five minutes. Oliver's pathetic. And he knows it, because he's scrambling to compensate with a desperation that anyone with half a brain can see is going to kill him very, very soon.

The Otto Octavius of Earth-22701 needs to fucking leave Morgan alone. The Peter Parker of that universe died like a century ago, and that Otto's engineered a way to stop aging so he doesn't even need to fight superheroes anymore. But no, he reads about a kid in New Orleans with my powers and decides that that's obviously his dead enemy having, I dunno, reincarnated or something. Instead of being the result of the spider-related experiments that he funded. I don't have a lot of respect for this Otto's intelligence. I've only met him in-person once, when I was going on the warpath and beating up everyone who's ever tried to kill Morgan, but for some reason having an actual Peter Parker knock two of his teeth out wasn't enough to deter him from his theory about Morgan being me. I'll try again as soon as I get a chance.

Odyssia Octavius, the Ock of Earth-777, is probably the least scientist and most mad of all the mad scientists here. Also the one who leans the hardest into the Octopus aesthetic, because alone among the Ocks she's a marine biologist. Now, unlike certain counterparts of mine I could mention, I actually don't give a fuck about her decision to serve an eldritch sea monster for power. Nor am I opposed to her overall goal--obviously we gotta save the environment, and obviously we're gonna have to fuck up some industries to make that happen. That's fine. My problems with her are more related to her habit of painfully twisting people she's got a grudge on into horrific monsters and then siccing said monsters on the populace. Even if that wasn't fucking abominable and evil beyond all recompense, it doesn't exactly convey the green message she's trying to go for. Maybe the Writhing One is modifying her logic to suit its own ends, using her as a puppet to get what it wants. Maybe she just fucking sucks. I've only ever spoken to her through the Internet, but if we ever meet face to face I'll be sure to ask which one it is right after I kick her ass and rip off big handfuls of that magic tattoo.

October Otto, the Doctor Octopus of Earth-2, is the only person in this list who I'm not inclined to attack on sight. It took me a little while to get to that point--when the me of Earth-2, Pax, introduced us I was pretty suspicious. But out of all the Ocks I've ever met, this is the only one who's not...nefarious. They're a little eccentric, more than a little shy, but overall a very well-meaning and selfless biologist. I'm glad I met them, even if their tentacles make me a little nauseous to think about. They and I still communicate occasionally, and after what happened to Pax I've been checking in with them to ask about their progress on a cure. This is one of the few people with whom I've ever felt the need to share my files on the Oz virus. I hope it does them good.

With the exception of October, all of these people are fucking awful. But none of them are as dangerous or as detestable as the Otto Octavius of Earth-61610.

The Otto I know is an unrivalled genius. His entire existence is devoted to biorobotics, and over the years he's integrated man and machine on a level that makes the Iron Man armor look like a remote-controlled action figure. He's modified his tentacles to counter my super speed, he's designed and redesigned a zillion different personal helpers, he's made himself the center of a technological superpower controlled solely by his mind. And unlike a lot of Ocks, he's not being manipulated by his tentacles. Nor was he driven insane by the accident that fused them to his body. No, this is a perfectly sane, rational prosthesis engineer who got so frustrated with the bounds of the law that he decided he had the right to start snapping necks.

He's a futurist, is the thing. A man with a grand vision of the technological utopia he could turn the world into, who thinks without a shadow of doubt that he knows what's best for the world and everyone in it, and who's decided that if you try to stop him from realizing that vision that the best thing to do is Remove you from the equation. Worse, he's written off massive swaths of the human race off as expendable--as little people whose lives are a perfectly acceptable sacrifice to bring about his future, who maybe even should be thanking him for the chance to finally mean something.

Every Octobot contains at least a few pieces of human brain. He kidnaps people, lobotomizes them, and integrates parts of their central nervous system into his systems to make his robots more adaptable and independent than purely mechanical systems could be. He's seeded mass-produced medicine with nanotech that hijacked the nervous system of the people who took it and turned them into unconscious parts of a worldwide neural network. On more than one occasion, he's tried to turn entire cities into his own personal laboratories, and everyone inside into lab rats.

Otto Octavius is a monster. No other Ock I've ever met even comes close.

#spider-man #specs #peter parker #ask #spidersona #earth-61610 #Otto Octavius #Doctor Octopus

35 notes · View notes

uglymanchronicles · 3 years

Text

Ugly Man Chronicles Reignition Book 2 Chapter 2: My Breakfast With Evan

Just a couple dudes getting to know each other.

“If you must know,” Evan sighed, spearing a glistening sausage on the end of a flimsy plastic fork, “my jackass older sister thought it would be hilarious to give me a cupcake she'd baked with about a dozen powdered viagra for my fifteenth birthday. I wound up passing out eventually. Burst a lot of blood vessels. Damaged the erectile tissue beyond usefulness.”

Titus froze mid-coffee-sip. “Seriously? What a bitch!”

“Buddy, you don't know the half of it.”

“So... no signs of life down there?”

“Nothing for twelve years.”

“I think I would literally kill myself.”

“It's not so bad, I guess. At least I don't have to drain the blood out of it any more.”

“Eugh! Fuck! Did not need to hear that!”

“Well, maybe you shouldn't ask questions you don't want the answer to.”

“Do you get, like, blue balls all the time, then?”

“That's basically my ground state of being.”

Titus whistled flatly, avoiding looking Evan in the eye. He settled for staring at the table. There wasn't a lot of Evan's face that he felt comfortable looking at; every part seemed to at least be adjacent to some unpleasantry or another. About the only safe area was his right eye, which, as luck would have it, was directly opposite Titus's 'good' eye. Titus rallied and met Evan's gaze again. “Alright, your turn.”

They'd agreed on a sort of mutual interview process, taking turns asking questions to suss out what the other was capable or if he was worth having around. Evan took a bite out of the sausage and chewed thoughtfully for a moment.

“Who's Moreno?”

Titus hissed through his teeth. “A real piece of shit.”

“I'm going to need more than that.”

“I'm getting to it. He's basically, like... a freelance henchman? Like, sort of a mercenary criminal. Sells his services to the highest bidder.”

“And why's he matter?”

“That's another question.”

“No, it is not,” Evan said, quiet and serious. “Do not argue with me in bad faith, Titus. I have very little patience for it in the best of times.”

Titus regarded him for a long moment. The man across from him was wider than the table they sat at. His muscles were so pronounced in some points that Titus could tell when he was about to move by the way they bulged and contracted. Yet he gave the impression that he was constantly trying to pull himself inward, to make himself smaller. He spoke quietly and with a simple formality, but only hours before Titus had watched him single-handedly beat down some of the nastiest people he'd met in the past month.

Hmm.

“Fine. Moreno matters because I'm after the guy he's working for. You see, Moreno isn't just a normal scumbag. He works for people who need nasty things done. Not like regular nasty, either. How much do you actually know about magic?”

“I've got some... notes. So far I'm not able to find a lot of coherent rules. It mostly seems like it relies on things that nobody would normally do.”

Titus snapped his fingers and pointed at Evan. “Hit it right on the head. Rituals, reagents, that kind of thing... the reason—well, one of the reasons—magic doesn't just happen all the time by accident is that it's all weird little things. A lot of the more heavy magic relies on some pretty elaborate and obtuse shit to get it going.”

Evan momentarily thought back to the Book of Fate and his ritual in the woods. “So Moreno does these things for people?”

“Yeah. Thing is, though...” Titus stopped raising a forkful of eggs halfway to his mouth and set it down again, as if he'd momentarily lost his appetite. “The people who use his services generally practice some pretty vile magic. Real depraved shit. And to empower depraved magic, you need depraved rituals. Moreno is the guy you go to when...”

“I think I get it,” Evan interjected, since Titus seemed to be struggling with deciding whether to continue. “Your turn.”

Titus tapped his fingers on the table for a moment, then looked Evan in the eye. “How smart are you?”

The scars on Evan's face squirmed around as he actually smirked. “What kind of question is that?”

“Hey, we agreed no 'whys'.”

“Alright, alright. Well, there's really no objective metric for it, but... I have Master's degrees in computer science and theoretical physics, Bachelor's in those in addition to mathematics and electrical engineering, and associate's degrees and certificates in everything from EMT training to ballet. I should have my doctorate in physics, but...” he said, with a bitterness that Titus made a note of, then changed gears. “Oh, and I also speak Mandarin, Spanish, Japanese, French, and Arabic pretty fluently. I also know ASL. I can get by in German and Russian, too. I don't know if any of that is what you meant but--”

“Jesus, I get it,” Titus muttered, rubbing the side of his head. “How the fuck do you make money?”

“Software consulting, mostly. I specialize in security and processing efficiency. People pay me to break into their systems and then patch the holes, or to make their code run quicker or make their programs smaller. I've got a few patents I've licensed that bring in most of my income nowadays, though.”

“Anything I would have heard of?”

“If you've used a computer made in the last four years it probably has something I wrote integrated somewhere into it. I also helped develop a protein-sequencing program that helped develop a vaccine for this nasty SARS variant that broke out in China last year. They say if they hadn’t nipped it in the bud it could’ve spread worldwide and we’d be looking at millions of deaths by now.”

Titus scrunched up his face. “Oh yeah, just say that like it’s no big deal.”

“I’m just glad it turned out not to be one. What I'd really like to do is get my compression algorithm out there, but if I do that, somebody's going to try to hoard it all for themselves.”

“Are you talking to yourself or me?”

“Look, I... a few years ago I figured out a way to compress memory down by a exponential factor of six with zero loss. All it takes is a couple software plugins that don't take up much room themselves. Essentially, I could make a gigabyte fit in a kilobyte with very little trouble, now that the math's figured out.”

“Holy fuck, that's insane! Why haven't I heard anything about this?”

“Mainly because I don't tell people. If I put it up on the market, some ISP would buy it and bury it. If you make information smaller, you make it faster. Can you imagine what it'd do to internet access if dial-up and barebones cellular networks suddenly had the bandwidth of fiber optics? It would... maybe not revolutionize our society, but it would level a lot of playing fields. Bring a lot of underdeveloped areas of the world—hell, this country—up to modern levels with no extra cost. The telecomms would crash and burn so hard. But I don't have the means to get it out there without going through someone else. Yet,” Evan added. “So I basically work watered-down versions of the compressor into the software I make. Nothing that can be duplicated, and nowhere near its full potential, but enough to get me hailed as some kind of genius and pay the bills.”

“So why aren't you on your own private island or something somewhere instead of puttering around God's Ashtray in a shitty old Bug?”

“Hey, the Beetle is not shitty,” Evan said, defensively. “And I'm just waiting for the AC in my RV to get fixed or I'd be driving that.”

“Oh hot damn! Now that's the way to live!”

“Not the one I'd choose voluntarily, but it could be worse.”

“How come you're doing it, then?”

“I think it's my turn to ask,” Evan said, mildly.

“Fine,” Titus said grumpily, crossing his arms.

“How do you make money?”

“That's easy. I'm basically a freelance bailbondsman. I just roam around, drop my advertising around bars and courthouses.”

“You get many clients that way?” Evan asked, cocking his remaining eyebrow.

“Oh, you'd be amazed how desperate people can get,” Titus said, shrugging. “Of course, they're usually not the most responsible people, so when they bounce, I track 'em down myself, drag ‘em back to jail, get the money back. My eye usually makes it super easy. Sometimes they don't even see me before I get the cuffs on 'em.”

“Why did you feel the need to rob a bunch of drug dealers, then? The thrill of it?”

“I had a pressing need for a large amount of cash that my normal work doesn't bring in. That got me enough to hold it off for a while. My turn.”

Evan waved down a waitress for a refill of his coffee, trying not to take it personally when she gasped upon seeing his face. “Go ahead…”

“No, no, hang on.” Titus waved a hand dismissively. “I want to try something. Take your hair out of the ponytail.”

“What? Why?”

“Humor me.”

Evan groaned and reached back, removing his hair tie. After shaking his head, his hair fell over his face, obscuring everything but his nose and mouth. Titus pursed his lips and regarded him seriously for a moment.

“Can you see?”

“Yeah, I guess. Well enough to not walk into things, I think, and I could probably read if I had to.”

Titus snapped his fingers. “Good. Go with that from now on.”

“Why?”

“Because now you don’t look like God’s mistake. Now you look like a big, dumb-but-lovable goon. Like Jack Black would voice you in a cartoon.”

“And that’s a good thing?”

“Do you like seeing people contemplating their own mortality and the general cruel absurdity of the tragic farce that is human existence when they get a glimpse of your face?”

Evan felt his cheeks burn and was actually grateful his hair was covering most of his face. “…not particularly, no.”

“Then there you go. You’re welcome. Okay, question time. Uh… how did you get your powers?”

“Which one?”

“Oh, now who’s arguing in bad faith? Fucking all of them, you thick-lipped gargoyle.”

Evan had the feeling he hit a sore spot. Titus's easy-going, jocular tone had bled away from him, leaving behind the hard-edged razor-blade of a man that had ambushed him the night before. He decided not to belabor the point.

“I don't know why I can rege—why I heal so quickly. No, I'm serious, as far as I know, it just started happening sometime in the past few months. I can't remember. Don't look at me like that, I'll get to that in a minute. When I was younger I recovered from a lot of injuries a lot quicker than the doctors thought I would, so maybe it's something I was born with and it just got stronger recently for some reason.”

Evan took a sip of coffee, mainly to buy a few seconds to think of how much to explain for the next part.

“The ability to shut off powers... that's part of, well, I guess you'd call it a magic ritual, because I don't know what else to call it. I found a weird old book that said it contained the key to making someone an instrument of universal justice, or something of the sort. Since then I can see... I guess they're souls? Maybe? I can sort of move mine and when I run it into someone else's it seems like I can shut off their powers. Or... take them entirely, if they're dying.”

“Horseshit!” Titus scoffed. “That's... that's like meta-magic. I don't even know if that's real.”

“No, seriously! I don't think it's just magic powers, I think it... 'normalizes' things.” He briefly recounted his encounter with the pain monster.

“Are you kidding me? That...” Titus took off his hat and ran his hand through his hair, exhaling slowly and loudly. “Look, I don't know much, but the fact that you even ran into something like that, let alone survived... those odds are astronomical. And you say you negated not just its powers, but its whole form?”

“Yeah. Once I... reached into it, like I did with you—oh don't make that face. Grow up—I kind of disrupted what made it... different, I guess? Like I cut it off from its special qualities. Like it was...”

“Disjuncted,” Titus cut in.

“Yeah, that's a good word for it. Like the old Mordenkainen spell?”

“Fucking nerd.”

“Eat my ass. Anyway, after I killed it, I was able to reach into its... soul? Animating force? Aura? I don't know what to call it. I was able to grab something and pull it out and it just got pulled into me.”

“Not aura.”

“What?”

“Aura's a different thing,” Titus said, dismissively. “So what did you get from doing that?”

“I.. I feel pain differently. I don't flinch or get adrenaline rushes from injuries that don't actually impede my ability to function. I think I have a better sense of what is actually dangerous to my body now. It still hurts, but I don't react to pain like people normally do. It's like...hmm.” Evan drummed his fingers on the table. “Do you know anything about video games? Fighting games, specifically?”

“I used to fuck around on an old Alpha 3rd Strike cabinet when I was a kid. Why?”

“Do you know what 'super armor' is?”

“Isn't that where a move can't get stopped by being hit when you're doing it?”

“Right. I'm kind of like that now. Pain doesn't interrupt me.”

“Fucking nerd.”

Evan's fist involuntarily clenched. “I'm trying to put this in terms you can understand, you stupid reprobate. My experience with your judgment thus far hasn't given me much faith in your intellect.”

Titus burst out laughing. “So he does know how to banter! I thought you might be one of those Rainman types.”

“Oh sure, call it 'banter' to try to excuse the fact that you've been insulting me for the past half hour. Do you say you're ‘just joking’ when people get mad at you for saying stupid shit, too?”

“C'mon, lighten up! We're partners now! Tell me more about this soul thing. I still think you're full of shit.”

Evan sighed through his nose, then held up his left hand, forming his fingers into a circle and peering through them.

“Yours is... a sort of cross between a sea green and an oil slick. The tendrils of it keep reaching out and snapping back, going all over the place. It seems to keep expanding and contracting. It's almost flickering, like... it's indecisive. Very chaotic. The tendrils that aren't snapping around seem to be kept pretty close to your body, wrapping around you like... I can't tell if it's protective or restrictive.”

Titus's expression slowly became serious. “What does that mean?”

“I don't know. I have a lot of theories, but nothing solid to go on. I'm not sure if it's allegorical or a literal representation of a person's... power, maybe? Yours definitely looks a lot different than most people's.”

“I don't believe this for a second. Let me see.”

“How would I do tha—hey!”

Titus grabbed Evan's wrist and held his hand up to his eye. “Ho-lee...”

He pulled back from Evan's hand, staring at him. Then he looked around the room, mouth slack as he took in the diner's other occupants.

“Huh. Did you know it keeps working until you blink?” He said after a moment, a faraway tone to his voice.

“I didn't even know other people could do it,” Evan said, awe in his voice. “Hey, wow, you're right!”

“Jesus, yours is, like, really blue. It looks like... a bunch of steel cables. It's weird, I felt like I both could and couldn't see the edges of it...”

“I can kind of move it, but I'm not sure if I can do anything with it beyond interfering with people's powers. It's like learning to use a muscle you didn't know you had.”

“Huh.” Titus was again silent for a long moment. “Your turn.”

“Can you do anything else supernatural? Besides your time-eye?”

“Don't call it that, it sounds stupid. And... sorta. I seem to have whatever innate talent you need to actually do magic, but it's not like it's easy to find instructions. Most of the people I know who can use it just dabble with half-broken magic items—wands, amulets, charms,” he pulled the silence charm out from under his coat and bounced it at the end of its chain. “I guess I'm sort of a dabbler. I know a few tricks, I can use a lot of magic tools, I can sense magic pretty well, I can dowse... Most of the time I really never have to use anything besides the eye, though.”

“Is the eye all-or-nothing?”

“Yeah. It's not nearly as useful as you'd think, but any edge is an edge.”

“When I turned off your power and it was coming back, though, you started speeding up—or, I guess, everything else was slowing down? You were moving faster, one way or the other. You were able to touch me, and those punches hurt.”

“Huh, yeah, you're right.”

“Do you think there's a way you could learn to only partially activate it?”

“That'd be great, wouldn't it? Thing is, just using it is a huge strain, and that time spend outside of time adds up. Going by normal calendar time I'm only 26.”

“Fuck, I'm 27!” Evan laughed.

“Yeah, well, I'd rather be prematurely gray than what you've got going on. My turn. Uh... huh, I can't really think of anything else. Uh... are you gay?”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“No, but the question still counts.”

“I'm bi,” Evan mumbled, crossing his arms across his prodigious chest. “Not that it matters. And before you ask, no, you are not my type. We're done talking about this.”

“Huh. You ever sucked--”

“We. Are. Done. Talking about this.”

“Fine, God. Go.”

Evan mentally circled back to an earlier question he felt hadn't been properly answered. “Why are you after Moreno?”

To Evan's surprise, Titus didn't hesitate. “I'm actually after his current boss. He's just the best lead I have to go on.” He took a deep breath, then started talking with a rushed, deadpan pace, as if he was eager to get the words out as quickly as possible so they wouldn't be in his mouth very long.

“Moreno is working for a guy only known as the Soultaker. He has an innate supernatural ability to pull a person's soul out of their body. When that happens, the person just... shuts down, usually. No motive force behind them. Eventually they just die of dehydration, usually. I've seen some people so set in routine that they keep going without a soul, but... it's not really life.

“It seems like the extraction process takes a while, so he can't just walk past you on the street and pickpocket your entire essence. So he needs people rounded up for him, held until he can do his nasty juju. So that's where a degenerate like Moreno comes in.

“So when he pulls out a soul, it, well, it looks like this.”

Titus pulled a battered, faded Crown Royale bag out of his jacket. It bulged strangely and made a quiet clacking when he set it on the table. He pulled out what looked like a large marble, or maybe a dull pearl, and handed it to Evan.

Evan brushed his hair out of his eyes and peered into the milky depths of the sphere. After a few moments of staring, the murky clouds inside the thing seemed to clear and a face floated to the surface. A black man, maybe in his late 40s, going thin on top. His eyes were closed and he appeared to be sleeping, but his expression had a look of discomfort to it, as if he was having a bad dream.

“Jesus Christ,” Evan whispered, “I've seen this guy... Martell Calloway? I saw some news article about how his family found him tied up in his apartment and completely comatose! But he didn't have any injuries beyond being a black eye... so he's dead?”

“Life support,” Titus said, taking Mr. Calloway's soul back from Evan's unresisting fingers, “technically, he's one of the lucky ones. They found his body before it wasted away to nothing, and I was able to intercept his soul before it got to a buyer.”

“Why would someone buy something like this? What use is it? Can you fix him?”

“A human soul is a damn near exhaustible arcane battery,” Titus said gravely. In the split second between sentences, Evan noticed something—after he'd put the bag back into his jacket, Titus surreptitiously touched a pocket on the other side of his jacket, as if he was making sure something was still there.

“If you know what you're doing, you can power a lot of magic using a soul. And you can reuse them as long as you don't overdo it. If you know what you're doing, you can wring all but the last drops of essence out of a soul and let it heal or recover or whatever, and it'll eventually be back to full strength. Very resilient things,” Titus continued. “I don't think they're conscious in there, but... anyway, it's supposed to be really hard to extract a soul. But this guy was born with or spontaneously developed or somehow figured out a shortcut to the whole process. So the market is getting flooded with torture-batteries and ECUs are getting flooded with vegetables. And families are winding up with loved ones who are as good as dead, without having any idea why this happened to them. Dozens of them have been taken off life support in the past few months. Half these souls have no body to return to. And no, I can't fix it. At least not yet,” he sighed again. “I was hoping once I found him, I could somehow get the secret out of him or force him to put them back, or... maybe I thought if I killed him it'd reverse the effect. He needs killing, either way.”

Titus's eye widened as a thought struck him and he looked Evan in the eye for the first time since he'd started the story. Evan realized what he was thinking and looked down at the tattoo on his left arm, flexing his fingers.

“If you can take people's powers after they die...”

“...then we can save these people.”

Titus put a hand over his mouth and for a moment Evan thought he saw his eye well up.

“I'm in,” Evan said, a sense of righteous purpose welling in his heart. “I don't really know what the universe wants, but I doubt... I know it's not this. We'll find him, we'll stop him, and we'll save as many of these people as we can.”

“...thanks,” Titus mumbled behind his hand. He swallowed hard, then seemed to come back to himself. “We're back to square one, though.”

“You said you could dowse? Like, for real?”

“Yes, for real. I can find things and people with the pendulum method. It's handy for tracking down bounties.”

“Why don't you dowse Moreno?”

“Why didn't I think of that?!” Titus said incredulously, smacking his forehead. “Because he's warded. He's not magic himself, but he's collected enough gear through his career that my normal methods don't work.”

Evan rubbed his chin. “What if we used an abnormal method?”

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

An hour later, they were in the RV. Titus was poring over the collection of Evan's notes and the strange papers he'd bought from Delmann's shop. Evan was very carefully slicing a strip of skin from his own ankle up all the way up his leg. The Guiding Light—the Finder's Follysat on the table between them, filled with fresh blood.

“Even if this works, he's going to know we're coming,” Titus muttered, engrossed in the pages. “Remember what I said?”

“That's why we're not going to look for him,” Evan said, adjusting his grip on the potato peeler. “I don't know how we'd even write his name. Can you read that, by the way?”

“Kind of. This is... most of this is written in, like, arcane pidgin. Who compiled these notes?”

“I did, I think.”

“You think?”

“Oh yeah, I forgot to clarify on that. Apparently a couple months ago, before the ritual, I drilled a hole in my own brain to erase some kind of very dangerous memory.”

“You what.”

“That's not a metaphor or anything. Really did it. I could show you the video.”

“I'll pass. So you don't remember where this came from?” Titus shook the Book of Fate at him.

“Nope.”

“Jesus shit, do you have any idea--”

“How reckless that was? Yeah, yeah, I'm still here and I'm the answer to your fuckin' prayers, aren't I?” Evan gave a whoop as the peeling skin reached his thigh. “Got it this time!” he said cheerfully, snipping the flesh-ribbon off with scissors.

“God, that's so fucking gross. Anyway, you haven't explained how we're going to use that thing to find Moreno.”

“We don't set it to look for him. We look for somewhere he's been. Maybe the last place he slept. Do you think you can describe him well enough in that language for it to work?”

Titus looked like he might actually be impressed, but he hid it well. “Yeah, probably.”

“Good. I've got a dictionary I've put together on that tablet next to you, but I'm not sure how accurate it is. Maybe it'll help?”

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

Two hours later, they had it.

Find where a man born between the 27th and 28th north parallels during a new moon under the sign of capricorn with black hair and green eyes who has killed at least 10 people slept in the past week.

They really had to squeeze the letters in, but when Evan put a flame to the wick, it sprung to life, wavered for a moment, and then pointed east. Both men cheered. Evan threw Titus the keys.

“Drive! Drive north until I tell you otherwise!”

While Titus started the engine, Evan spread a map of the United States on the table in front of the lamp, then produced a protractor and a notebook from a drawer. “Okay, you bastard... let's see where you've been hiding...”

It took three days—one spent driving north, one spent driving back to where they'd started, and one spent driving south. While Titus drove, Evan made meticulous notes of the flame's direction, marking angles on the map. Finally he threw the pencil down triumphantly.

“He's in Salt Lake City.”

“Well, that narrows it down a little, I guess. So what, do we just go there and hope this thing points us in the right direction?”

“Too slow,” Evan called, stepping back into what used to be his bedroom and sitting at his computer. “Now I work my magic.”

After parking, Titus walked back to look over Evan's shoulder. The half-dozen monitors on the wall were flickering between rapidly-changing pictures of faces and what appeared to be CCTV footage.

“What is this?”

“This,” Evan said with dramatic pride, “is Blaccat. Facial recognition algorithms that the CIA wishesit had. I actually started working on it years ago before I thought about the implications of it, but I shelved it. I figured since I may be needing to, uh...”

“Be Batman?”

“...yeah...that I should get back to work on it. Right now it's comparing faces to the description you gave me and cycling through every damn security camera in the city looking for it.”

“How illegal is this?”

“Soooooo illegal.”

“Oh, hey, can you get into police department records?”

“Does the Pope shit in the woods?”

“See if you can get into the Las Vegas mugshots from... February 2019. Run your face-recognition thingy there.”

“Alright.... and... is that our boy?”

A handsome Latino man in his early 30s with shoulder-length jet-black hair and piercing green eyes stared at them from over a booking clipboard.

“That's him,” Titus breathed.

“Perfect! Now I just have to feed that into... wow.” Evan made a gesture and a black and white video popped up on the biggest monitor. The man in the mugshot was walking along the street, flanked by a short stocky man in bandanna and a lanky man with the ugliest white-boy dreads Evan had ever seen.

“That's him! Where is that? When is that?”

Evan grinned up at Titus. “That's live. I can track him and put us at the nearest intersection.”

Titus smiled, eye overbright, and began breathing heavily through his nose. “We got him.”

Evan met his eye and nodded. “Let's get him.”

#my writing #urban fantasy #ugly man chronicles: reignition

23 notes · View notes

lady-divine-writes · 3 years

Text

Good Omens - “Risks and Consequences” (Rated PG13)

Summary: Crowley surprises Aziraphale with a surprise skating excursion on Christmas night during a suspicious snowstorm. (1436 words)

Read on AO3.

“You do enjoy shoving me headfirst out of my comfort zones. Don’t you, my dear?” Aziraphale asks, warily watching his husband strap a stiff black boot to his foot.

“Poppycock,” Crowley grumbles, struggling to unknot long laces he accidentally macramed while attempting to navigate the rows of eyelets and hooks. “Consider this an adventure.”

“This is certifiable! You do know that?”

“How? You’re an angel! What on Earth could happen to you?”

“A great many things, I imagine,” Aziraphale replies. It’s a thin response. Crowley can tell Aziraphale has a thought, a��vivid one, of something plausible.

Something that has him concerned.

Crowley stops messing with the skate and looks into Aziraphale’s face. Aziraphale's gaze ducks and dodges, bouncing from his hands to his knees to other random things inside the confines of Crowley’s Bentley. But Aziraphale can’t avoid Crowley’s gaze, nor Crowley himself, for too long. “Sometimes, I feel as if, one of these days, I’m going to snap my fingers, and nothing will happen. Heaven will have found a way to make me mortal or …”

“Or abandoned you altogether?”

Aziraphale nods sadly. “Yes.”

“I get those thoughts, too, sometimes,” Crowley admits, going back to fixing his angel’s skate. “Too often, really. Which probably explains why you use your magic so rarely, and I use mine all the time.”

“You’re always double-checking."

“And you’d rather not know.”

“Losing my powers wouldn’t be the worst part. Inconvenient, yes, but not terrible. Abandoned by Heaven …” Aziraphale's words drift off, but their meaning lingers, clinging to Crowley's heart and building like the snow outside their windows.

Crowley winks at his husband, trying to get him to smile, to laugh, to roll his eyes and groan Oh Lord! “It’s not so bad ..."

“... once you get used to it. So you keep telling me,” Aziraphale teases, gifting his husband with the tiniest of grins, gone all too swiftly. “Are you truly afraid of being abandoned by Hell?”

"Ngk ..." Crowley’s shoulders bounce a shrug back and forth as he thinks over his answer “... nah. Not really. They've already tried to exterminate me once, haven't they? It’s the consequences that come with it that would really suck: being mortal, having no powers, growing old …” Crowley’s eyes meet Aziraphale’s - melancholy blue eyes exposing those same fears, a subject his angel hasn’t felt comfortable bringing up before tonight. He still doesn’t seem comfortable with it, tight-lipped as an oyster. “But let’s not talk about that now,” Crowley suggests. “Tonight is for having ridiculous amounts of fun. Stirring up a little mayhem.”

“We’re going to get into trouble,” Aziraphale laments. “With the humans, I mean.”

“Nonsense. They'll never even know we were here."

“There are security cameras everywhere!”

“When was the last time you got caught doing anything on CCTV? It would be all over the Internet if you had! I'll fix it. You'll see.”

“By wasting another miracle? Or do you have a small army of rodents positioned on light poles, waiting to do your bidding?”

“Besides,” Crowley continues, overlooking the jab at what was one of his more masterfully executed, if not elaborate, schemes, “I’m not sure this is actually illegal. As long as we abide by all traffic laws and posted speed limits.”

“Where did you even get this idea?”

“From YouTube. The youths do it - barrel down frozen roads wearing bicycle helmets and hockey skates.”

"You're getting your evil ideas from children?" Aziraphale tuts. “Aren’t you supposed to be the bad influence? Not the other way around?”

“No shame in finding inspiration outside your own head.”

“Yes, well, I hope you skate better than you drive.”

“Oi! I am an excellent driver!”

“I know two rabbits and a squirrel who might disagree with you.”

“That wasn’t my fault! You’d think they’d know to get the Hell outta the way of a moving vehicle!”

“Speaking of which, we’re going to get hit by a car.”

“What car?” Crowley stops fiddling with Aziraphale’s skate to wipe down a fogged window and take a look around. Beneath the glow of the street lamps, he sees nothing but snow - a veil of flakes wafting down from the sky, pushed into swirls by the frigid wind. “No one’s out here! It’s three in the bloody morning after one of the worst storms London has had in years! You’d have to be insane to be outside!”

“My thoughts exactly,” Aziraphale mutters. “Bit early for a storm like this though, isn’t it?”

“Uh … maybe,” Crowley says, abruptly returning to his task.

“London isn’t due for snow until January.”

“Is that so? Strange.”

Aziraphale's brow furrows as he watches his husband focus intensely on basically nothing. “Crowley …”

“Wot?”

“Are you responsible for this?”

"Wot would make you think that?"

"Crowley. Look at me."

Crowley's head slowly lifts, eyes aimed everywhere but Aziraphale's face. At one point, he even closes them, assuming that, behind his dark lenses, Aziraphale won't notice.

But Aziraphale does notice. Even if Crowley were speaking to him from a completely different room, Aziraphale would notice.

Because, for a demon, Crowley happens to be an atrocious liar.

“It’s Christmas night!" Crowley pleads, unable to hold back any longer. "The perfect time for a lock-yourself-indoors-and-get-sloshed sort of snowstorm, a'right?"

“So why are we not inside getting sloshed then?”

“Because this is something I’ve wanted to do for a while! And I was gettin' tired of waiting for Mother Nature to accommodate. Plus, with climate change and global warming, nothing's guaranteed, is it?” Crowley moves on from Aziraphale's right foot and begins sliding his reluctant left foot into its skate. “Live a little!”

“I aim to live a lot, which specifically requires avoiding activities such as this." Aziraphale pauses his complaining to watch Crowley work, beyond curious what was going on inside his husband's demonic mind when he hatched this plan. "So," he says, working through the mystery out loud, "you conjured up a snowstorm, froze the streets, are in the process of strapping these awful contraptions to my feet ... would you like to tell me why?”

"Do I have to?"

"It would be nice."

"I'm a demon. I'm not nice."

"Crowley ..."

“Alright! It's because I wanted us to be together like this."

"Like what?"

Crowley sighs. "Like humans. And do the stupidly wonderful things humans do when they’re in love: take moonlit strolls, hold hands, kiss in the rain, all that sappy shite. Humans go skating at Christmas! It's, like, number three on their list of Yuletide activities. It's almost a requirement! Even if they can't stand steady in regular shoes, they go skating. And they cling to one another, and they laugh, and they kiss, and I … I didn't want to take the chance that if I waited, I might miss ..."

Nothing's guaranteed, Aziraphale thinks as he watches Crowley sink in on himself, head bowed over Aziraphale's feet, curling as if he wants to disappear. And Aziraphale begins to understand.

Crowley has been a ball of anxious energy for as long as Aziraphale can remember. Aziraphale doesn't blame him. Crowley has been tiptoeing through minefields since the beginning - making innocent mistakes and paying huge prices for them. As supernatural entities, it's easy to get lulled into the false sense of security that nothing bad can happen to you.

But that's not true.

Not at all true.

Because even a demon and an angel with magical powers aren't anywhere near the top of the food chain.

Crowley destroying Ligur with Holy Water proved that.

So did his belief that Aziraphale had been extinguished by Hellfire.

The fact that he hadn't been didn't prove Crowley wrong.

Hellfire would most definitely annihilate his angel from the face of the planet.

Crowley and Aziraphale helped save Earth for humanity, but every day, the humans work harder and harder towards their own destruction.

Nothing's guaranteed.

Not for anyone.

"If you don’t want to go skating, that’s fine. I know it’s risky. Probably the last way in the world you’d want to discorporate."

"I can think of worse ways," Aziraphale says with a chuckle.

"We can go back to your bookshop, make hot cocoa, listen to your gramophone or ... or something.”

“The biggest risk I’ve taken is sitting right here with me. And that’s worked out so far. For 6000 years, as a matter of fact. I don’t mind taking another one. Just … try not to let me fall.”

“Just hold on tight.” Crowley scoots down the bench towards his husband and wraps his arms around him. “I promise I won’t let you fall.”

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #Crowley #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley

36 notes · View notes

omniswords · 4 years

Note

Maybe 19 with Felinette?

19. One person stopping a kiss to ask “Do you want to do this?”, only to have the other person answer with a deeper, more passionate kiss.

leave me a pairing and a number and i’ll write you a kiss! [CLOSED FOR NOW]

read more of the Fake Not-Dating AU here! this is a long one, but it explains more of how Félix and Marinette’s relationship was established… i hope orz

If there is one thing Félix has learned about Miss Marinette Dupain-Cheng in the last year, it’s that she is horrible, abysmally horrible, at it.

It was easy to excuse away the first few times: they were getting to know each other better in a different setting, the internet or the messaging app could be unreliable sometimes, they were both plenty busy with their own affairs. But as the weeks—and then months—dragged on, he noticed the checkmark and the SEEN notification underneath his messages far more than the ellipsis that should have showed up just underneath it.

Perhaps that second date had been much worse for her than it had been for him, which was… awkward, at best. So perhaps she was trying to let him down easy, but was uncomfortable with being direct about it—no, that didn’t make sense. If the way she’d treated him when they snuck out on New Year’s Eve was any indication, she would certainly have no problem telling him outright that she wanted nothing to do with him anymore.

It’s not as though he’s desperate for her attention. Certainly not. He’d hardly consider himself desperate about anything; that would be too unbecoming. But it would have been nice to know, right out the gate, whether whatever it is they’re cultivating—whatever it is he’s trying to cultivate—is going to go somewhere or not. It’s not his job to ask. It’s hers to tell.

It’s been hours since his last message to her. Little more than a Hello and a Hope you’re faring well and perhaps a slightly spiteful I’m fine, by the way. He’s been checking their message history a few times, just on a whim—because he’s not desperate, just curious—and he’s about to give up hope and put his phone away for the night when his mother knocks on his door. She actually waits, thank God, and by the time she opens the door she’d never know that he was hung up over something so silly as a message from a girl. Or lack thereof.

Or perhaps she would. He’s half-scared of what mothers know.

“I was thinking,” she says once she’s closed the door and taken a seat at the foot of his bed, smoothing out his covers for want of something to do. “Since you’re on school holiday next week, what do you say we make a trip of it? Paris, Sunday to Saturday.”

To his credit, Félix tries so, so hard for her not to see the way he wrinkles his nose. “That depends…” he starts carefully. “Would we be staying with Uncle Gabriel?”

“Heavens, no!” His mother laughs behind a hand, but he hears her own spite in it, too. How she can only stand to be among the Agrestes as long as she has to. For her sister’s sake. “This is for us, Félix. I’ve reserved two rooms for us at the Grand Paris. Only the best for you, and for your own privacy, of course.”

Somehow, his cousin’s place just became more appetizing. And besides, what does she expect him to go around doing in Paris, anyway? “Mr. Bourgeois’s hotel?”

“I thought you and Chloé got along when you were children.”

“I didn’t like her, mother. I tolerated her.” Toleration is a skill, of course. That, and leverage.

“Well.” His mother gets to her feet again, claps her hands together. “Why don’t you start getting your things together and packing. I’ll set on train tickets for us. Nine o’clock, bright and early.” She kisses his forehead on her way out—even now, years later, it softens him at the edges—and he turns to his phone, face-down and unassuming next to his open textbook. He hesitates a moment, then opens the messenger app yet again, because, well, it wouldn’t hurt to check one more time.

Still nothing.

And yet here he is, stewing in his own bitterness, with hope after hope stacked against him, and holding onto the one thing inside him that says, maybe things will turn around.

Félix feels himself cave in, and types out one more message—hits the backspace on if it means anything to you.

To: Marinette Dupain-ChengI’ll be in Paris in two days. For a week. Whether or not you’d like to see me is up to you.

There. Now all he has to do is wait. As though he hasn’t been doing it all these months already.

Except in seconds, the checkmark notification appears. And almost immediately after that, there’s the ellipsis.

His chest goes tight. He holds his breath. Damns himself for it all, too.

From: Marinette Dupain-Chengreally?? when?we should do something when you get herei know it’s supposed to be valentine’s tomorrow but, we could still… hang out?

Félix sighs, and pinches the bridge of his nose, and as he’s replying to her and pulling his suitcase out of the closet, he wishes he weren’t such a sucker for her.

———

He doesn’t understand it. All Sunday morning Marinette’s been messaging him, like a puppy waiting for its master at the door. What is she getting at? Why the sudden flip in her attitude? The fact that he doesn’t know is driving him half-insane, all through the train ride, and even as he’s unpacking in his room. (That is one thing he’ll credit the Bourgeois family with: they know how to set up a comfortable space.) He decides, in the end, that she’s the desperate one—even if he did agree to meet her early in the evening—and pushes all thought of her to the back of his mind when he asks his mother where she’d like to go for lunch.

Félix will admit that Paris is lovely during the day, and even lovelier without the obligations of an extended family or other people who talk with their wallets instead of their mouths. He and his mother don’t have to rely on itineraries—they’ve been here enough times, especially before his aunt, as they say, disappeared. It’s simply pleasant to walk the streets with her, to pop into the shops she’d like to browse and study the foreign-language books. To take tea with her in the afternoon while they watch the city from her window and, admittedly uncomfortably, to confess that he has plans to meet someone soon.

Of course it piques her interest. Why wouldn’t it? “Oh? Who?” she asks. “Adrien?”

“No, no. An… acquaintance, from that New Year’s party we went to last year. Do you remember it?” It’s not entirely a lie, but these little things are practically second nature to him at this point. Thank God she doesn’t ask any questions after that, simply reminds him to hold onto his room’s key card and to be safe, and it’s as he’s freshening up in his bathroom, one last time, that his stomach… flutters. Stupidly.

He’s certainly not nervous. Why should he be? If anything, he should be bitter. Is bitter.

Mostly.

By the time he arrives at the Galerie Vivienne, which is only a ten-minute drive away, Marinette’s already waiting for him; that’s the first thing that surprises him. The second is that she’s dressed up—well, more so than she was the last time they met. Her fit-and-flare dress is wine-red and sits off the shoulders, and she’s even got a small heart-shaped purse to match, and a small box in her hands. Her hair is down, too; he doesn’t think he’s ever seen her wear it that way before.

He doesn’t think he’s ever stared at her like this, either. Or at anyone.

Still, she seems awkward when he approaches her, doesn’t even offer her hand for him to kiss. “What’re you all dressed up for?” she says by way of greeting, and for some reason it stings.

Félix looks down at himself. Trousers, button-down, waistcoat; the only thing that really sparkles about him is his wristwatch. “This is how I always dress,” he says flatly, “but I should ask the same of you.”

“Because… I wanted to? Sheesh…” Marinette scuffs the heel of her ballet flat against the sidewalk, looking hurt; the way the words caught in her throat isn’t lost on him. “Come on… I know a place.”

He’s never been inside the Galerie, but it almost feels like a combination of a museum and a shopping center. He walks stiffly as he follows Marinette’s lead, noticing the things around him without really looking at them or taking them in. Eventually she takes him to a small bistro called the Petit Valentin, which seems a bit on the nose even for the fifteenth of February—except when he says as much, she scowls and pushes a menu toward him. He sighs, tries not to roll his eyes. He’s here to keep civil, he reminds himself, and if he didn’t really want to come, then he wouldn’t have at all.

They eat in relative quiet, talking softly to catch up. Marinette talks far more than he does, which he doesn’t terribly mind; it’s simply that he’s counting every opportunity she had to tell him these things in chunks, instead of unloading it all on him at once. If she’s offput by his hums and occasional nods and the way he so pointedly stares at his food, she doesn’t make it very obvious—only awkwardly sits back in her chair and looks around as if the conversation might have hidden from her in the corners. Honestly, he didn’t think the time they spent together could ever get any worse, and apparently, he thought too soon.

It isn’t until afterwards, when they’ve each paid for their half and passed by bookstores and postcard stands on their way to the streets, that Marinette stops him with a hand on his wrist. He tenses, looks to her out of the corner of his eye, and waits.

“I brought this for you, you know,” she says, holding out the box to him. She’s been safeguarding it all evening, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a little curious as to what was inside. “Handmade and everything.”

Gingerly, he takes the box from her, undoes the ribbon wrapped around it and peeks inside to find several small chocolates, laid out on wax paper. He says nothing in response—only closes his eyes and presses his tongue to the roof of his mouth and shuts the box again.

“What?” Marinette says. “What is it?”

“I don’t like chocolate.” He spits the words out, tries so hard not to crumple the box and to keep his voice even, because the last thing the second arrondissement needs is a scene. “You would have known that,” he adds, turning on his heel, “if you’d asked.”

Any other girl—any other person, really—would have let him walk away. But Marinette doesn’t. He should have known she wouldn’t. “That’s what this is about?” she says, tailing after him, her flats clicking harshly against the sidewalk. “Are you serious?”

“Incredibly serious.” He keeps pace just fine, weaving through people in long strides and not bothering to look back; he knows she’ll keep up. “Because, Miss Dupain-Cheng, somehow you’ve managed to perfect the art of contacting so little that someone should lose all hope in you, and yet so much that he should still hold onto some of it. You’d best learn to go one way or the other.”

“Félix—Félix, stop! Stop walking, Jesus—”

He does, still with his back to her, still holding onto that damn box, and she stumbles into him, panting and scuffing her heels. She catches her breath soon enough, and the first thing she says, in that voice he wishes he hadn’t come to adore, is, “Would you at least look at me?”

He does, begrudgingly, at the entrance to a nearby park. She’s got her arms folded, when he turns, her face flushed and flyaway hairs rebelling against her look. And the first thing he thinks—fool that he is—is that one year later, she still looks gorgeous in streetlight, and he still wants to thumb the wrinkle from her brow. “Very well,” he says. “What do you want?”

“I want to explain—”

“You’ve explained plenty.” He raises an eyebrow, counting the reasons—the excuses—on his fingers. “You’ve been studying for the baccalauréat and assembling your portfolio, as though I haven’t had A-Levels to worry about. You’ve been absolutely inundated in clothing commissions and helping your family’s business—because for some reason you assume that I fail to understand what that feels like. You’ve got friends. You’ve got a life. Had you never considered that there was someone,” he says through the way his jaw clenches, “who wanted to be a part of it beyond more than your own sense of convenience?”

The way Marinette bristles is almost palpable, makes half of him want to take back what he said. But if he didn’t, then what? He’d stew for the rest of the night? The rest of the week? “I…” She grips the chain strap of her purse. “I didn’t know if I wanted you to be part of it yet.”

Félix narrows his eyes. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

Marinette squints right back. Even hurt, she holds her own; it’s admirable, really. “Félix,” she says slowly. “You couldn’t seriously expect me to fall at your feet in an instant and just not care that you’re my old crush’s cousin.”

He gawks. “That’s what this is about?”

“Of course that’s—” She sighs, exasperated, and drops her face into her hand. “You think I respect you so little that I’d just bounce to you and risk making you think you were sloppy seconds? Or worse, that I was just using you to get to him? I…” There’s a tremble in her voice, and now she’s the one who can’t bear to look at him. She probably can’t look at all, the way she’s wiping her eyes with the heel of her hand. “I was waiting for the right time to figure out… to tell you that I liked you. I wasn’t gonna do it over text. Or in public like this. And I wasn’t… wasn’t gonna do it if you still had any reason to doubt me…”

Félix’s heart cracks. He doesn’t touch her. Doesn’t feel worthy of it. Instead, he says, like a complete idiot, “I should assume, then… that you used past tense for a reason.”

“It’s not past tense! Félix, I…” She balls her hands into fists, breathes out at the same time she releases them. “I think I should go home.”

He didn’t think, before now, that hearing Marinette Dupain-Cheng actually talk to him would kill him so much.

———

Félix turns in early—as soon as he gets home, in fact—and only chances one message to Marinette before he puts his phone away: Please forgive me. Good night. She responds within minutes—Good night, Félix.—and the perfect punctuation makes him wonder if he would have been better off with nothing but that damned checkmark.

He sleeps so fitfully that by morning he has the sense that he didn’t sleep at all, and the first thing he thinks upon half-waking is that Marinette Dupain-Cheng liked him. Likes him. Tried to give him no reason to doubt her, and he pushed himself into it anyway. Tried to give him the best circumstances possible, and he manipulated them the way he does with just about everything.

When his mother asks, over breakfast, how his “acquaintance” is doing, he says, “Fine,” in that hollow way that begs no more elaboration. Then he pushes the little box, tied up rather messily now, across the table. “I got these,” he murmurs. “Would you like them?”

It’s worth the way she coos gratefully, hugs him sideways, and kisses the top of his head.

It only takes a half hour or so of brooding at the foot of his bed, phone in hand with not even so much as a good morning, for him to make a decision he vaguely hopes is the right one. With only the brisk announcement that he’s going to pick something up and will be back soon, he walks with pinpoint purpose out of the Grand Paris Hotel, already punching the address to the Tom & Sabine Bakery/Patisserie into a rideshare app.

He bounces his leg in a backseat for all of twenty minutes, thanks the driver with a nod and a tip—hesitates—then pushes the door open, cursing the bell above it for announcing his entrance. Instantly, he feels like a deer in headlights, unsteady on his legs as the proprietors—no, Marinette’s parents, damn it—meet his eyes.

“Good morning,” he says with an uncomfortable cough behind his fist. “Might Miss Dupain-Cheng be around?”

Her parents look at each other, apparently just as uncertain as he is, and then back to him. “She’s right upstairs,” her mother speaks up, squinting at him like she’s seen him somewhere before but can’t quite place him. “There’s a side door just outside that will let you in. Are you a friend of hers?”

“Something like that.” He gives a short bow in thanks, doesn’t bother to give them any more chances to find the resemblances between him and Adrien, and with every muscle still stiff, he climbs the stairs up two at a time to their apartment. He adjusts his tie just before knocking, and his chest goes tight upon actually doing it, as though this may never have been the right choice after all.

The door opens before he can turn tail, and there is Marinette, swimming in an oversized sweater and some leggings, cocking her head at him as she clings to the doorknob and looks him up and down. He doesn’t want to fathom why her eyes are red-rimmed. “Why are you here?” she asks, slow with her words.

He thinks he can hear the invitation in them—the gratitude, the second chance—but he keeps his distance all the same. “I have something of yours,” he replies, flexing his hand in his pocket. “I wanted to give it to you before I lost the chance to. If you’ll take it.”

“Félix…” She sighs. “I really don’t want the chocolates back—”

“I’m not talking about the chocolates,” he says, and waits for the spark in her eyes that tells him the pieces have clicked together. He looks down at himself, his gaze lingering on his chest as his fingers brush his heart, and then back up to her. “If you’ll take it, it’s yours. If you won’t, well.” He clears his throat. “I’ll be on my way.”

“I…” Marinette hesitates, longer than he was expecting and yet somehow just the right amount, but he catches how she opens the door just a bit wider. “I meant what I said. Yesterday. And I haven’t told anyone else… anything. It’d be… weird, if Adrien found out. If any of our friends found out—”

“And whose business is it if you take it?” Félix asks, all breath and his pocket bunched in his fist. “Whose business is it, Miss Dupain-Cheng, if I let you?”

She searches his face, and he lets her. Her hand’s still on the doorknob. His hide away. “Fine,” she says, little more than a breath of her own. “Give it here.”

He steps past the doorway then, and gives her no more reason to hold onto it as he bends and gathers her up into a kiss. It feels clumsy, and his hands seize up with the urge to feel out everywhere they can—her hair, her face, up and down her back. But he braces himself for her to push him back… and she doesn’t. Instead, she wraps her arms around his neck, and lifts up on her toes to press into him, and moves one of his hands to her chest as if to say, Take mine, too.

He draws his hand back like he’s been burnt—he’s never touched a girl so… intimately… before—and Marinette breaks the kiss instantly. “Sorry,” she stammers, her face bright red. “Look, are you sure you want to—”

Félix doesn’t give her the chance to finish her question; he only kisses her again, nudges her back into her living room so he can try and kick the door shut. It isn’t until then that he realizes just how he missed her tugging on his coat and taking her own lead. And it isn’t until he seizes the opportunity to clumsily slide his tongue past her lips, the way he’s heard his classmates brag about, he understands just one more thing.

All of him is catching fire, and he wants, he wants, Miss Marinette Dupain-Cheng to make that noise again.

#miraculous ladybug #felinette #felix graham de vanily #marinette dupain cheng #fake not dating au #kiss meme #LORDT #OKAY THERE IT IS #KICKS MY FEET UP #Anonymous #answers

348 notes · View notes

toenialls · 4 years

Text

hi ! here’s a fic rec i made bc what better time to read fics than a quarantine. i’ve ordered them below from longest to shortest. :)

these are all the fics i’ve read/re-read this quarantine

hiding place by alivingfire @alivingfire (365k)

louis never wanted a soulmate, didn’t really care for the whole Bonding thing at all, really. enter harry styles, who’s wanted to be Bonded for as long as he could remember. with one fateful meeting in a x factor bathroom, louis gets a dagger on his arm and the realization that just because harry is his soulmate doesn’t mean it’s mutual.

from the x factor house to madison square garden, from the fountain studios stage to stadiums across the world, louis has to learn to love without losing himself completely, because someday his best friend will Bond to someone and replace louis as the center of his universe. meanwhile, harry begins to think that maybe fate doesn’t actually know what it’s doing after all, because his other half has clearly been right in front of him the whole time. all he has to do now is convince louis to give them a chance.

or, the canon compliant harry and louis love story from the very beginning, where the only difference is that the love between them is literally written on their skin, and there’s only so much they can hide.

relief next to me by dolce_piccante @haydolce (333k)

au- what happens when a baker and a graphic designer meet via a very specific craigslist post? fate, friendship, food, and maybe more.

young & beautiful by velvetoscar @mizzwilde (227k)

louis, to his horror, attends an elitist university in which the name zayn malik means something, niall horan doesn’t stop talking, there are pianos everywhere, and harry styles, only son o a drug-addled, clinically insane ex-rocker, has a perfect smile and empty eyes

now in a minute by thealmightyavocado @avocadolouie (150k)

13 feels like yesterday for many people, but for louis it actually was.more than anything in the world, louis tomlinson dreams of growing up. simply skipping over all the awkward embarrassing years of teenage existence and getting on with life, real life.

so when thirteen-year-old louis wakes up in the body of his thirty-year-old self, he expected his adult life to be picture perfect. and maybe it is. he has it all…or so it seems.

except his favorite person and lifelong best mate, harry styles, is totally missing from the equation and louis doesn’t understand why. he has a lot of catching up to do and as adult life turns out to be more than what he bargained for, louis can’t help wondering why a life that seemed so perfect, feel so empty.

or, the 13 going on 30 au that should have been done years ago.

walk that mile by purpledaisy (149k)

harry stares at him, the line of his jaw standing out scarily. “i wanted to get the most out of this trip so i planned it carefully.” his voice is low and steady and somehow that’s worse than when he was yelling. “so far, you’ve put your sticky fingers on everything i’ve tried to do.”

"sticky fingers?“ louis repeats. offended. “are you saying it’s my fault you got stung by a bee? had you been alone you would have gotten halfway to the dotty diner and ran the car off the road because of an allergic reaction, so don’t go blaming me.”

"polk-a-dot drive in,“ harry spits before getting out of the car. he slams the door shut with a deafening reverb and louis rolls his eyes.

or, a route 66 au where falling in love was never part of the plan.

own the scars by crinkle-eyed-boo @crinkle-eyed-boo (144k)

“but i don’t belong here,” louis insists.

"why do you say that?“ james asks.

"these people are all drug addicts and alcoholics,” louis shrugs. something sparks in james’ eyes. “and you’re not?”

louis has never felt like he was good enough: for his stepdad, for his life-long best friends, for the life he’s supposed to want. after an accident that nearly costs him his life, louis’ parents send him to rehab where he’s forced to make his own decisions. on the long and difficult road to recovery, louis must confront the truths he;s been avoiding about his future, his relationships, and his sense of self-worth. because before he can love anyone else, he’s got to learn how to love himself first.

wear it like a crown by zarah5 @zarahdetand (141k)

au- as a part of a team of fixers hired to handle a gay scandal in buckingham palace, louis expects prince harry to be a lot of things – most notable a royally spoilt brat. never mind that the very same prince harry used to star in quite a number of louis’ teenage fantasies.

unbelievers by isthatyoularry @isthatyoularry (136k)

it’s louis’ senior year, and he’s dead set on doing it right. however, along with his pair of cleats, a healthy dose of sarcasm and his ridiculous best friend, he’s also got a complicated family, a terrifying uncertain future, and a mortal enemy making his life that much worse. mortal enemies “with benefits” was not exactly the plan.

or, the one where louis and harry definitely aren’t friends, and football is everything

empty skies by green_feelings (134k)

for three years, harry has been running from his past. now, he is moving to london and pledges to fulfill only his dream – making it big in the music industry. not everyone has a place, though, and the competition is tough. as is his past catching up to him.

louis is part of the biggest boy band of the world, and getting there meant a lo to hard work, as well as sacrificing parts of his heart and soul. he’s still happy. maybe not as happy as he could be, but who is he to complain?

featuring perrie as harry’s adorable flatmate, niall as his manager, and liam and zayn as louis’ bandmates.

love is a rebellious bird by 100precentsassy @100percentsassy gloria_andrews @gloriaandrews (134k)

au. in which the boys still make music. louis is the concertmaster of the london symphony orchestra, harry is the new! and exciting! interim conductor / ex-cello prodigy who “has made mozart cool again” according to esquire magazine (louis hates him immediately, which is definitely why he internet stalked him in his dark bedroom late at night that one time), and niall is the best. zayn and liam are around too.

don’t hum Bolero

wild love by purpledaisy (130k)

“good,” julia says, clearly pleased to have them both uncomfortable and unable to look at each other. “now, i only have one more question before you can go. what are you planning to do when this experiment ruins your friendship?“

"we said we’d stay friends no matter what,” harry says smoothly his chin lifting in defense.

"that was our one thing going into it,“ louis agrees. “stay friends no matter what.”

julia raises a perfectly manicured eyebrow, “that’s all fine and good. but i hope you realize your emotions aren’t going to realize this is an experiment in the end. if one of you falls for the other and finds out those feelings are not reciprocated you’re not going to be able to laugh it off as a social experiment. i’m not saying you shouldn’t do this, i’m just hoping you’ve considered all of the possible outcomes.”

or, two friends try to date each other for forty days. it’s supposed to be fun until emotions make it complicated

got the sunshine on my shoulders by hattalove @hattalove (124k)

five years ago, harry styles left his tiny home town to make it big as a recording artist, he didn’t have much regard for what he left behind– a life, a family, a husband, who woke up one morning to find him gone.

now, harry has everything he could possibly want. he’s rich, famous, and adored by everyone he meets, including his boyfriend. but when said boyfriend proposes to him, he’s forced to face the uncomfortable facts of his past– and louis, who’s spent the last five years returning every set of divorce papers harry sent him.

or, au based on the movie sweet home alabama.

california sold by isthatyoularry (123k)

notoriously closeted boyband member harry styles is famous on a global scale, meanwhile louis, as his best friend, is back home in manchester living the typical life of a 24 year old. when harry needs louis with him in LA, a publicity stunt gone wrong changes their friendship forever.

or, a fake-relationship au between two lifelong best friends.

the finish line (is a good place for us to start) by loadedgunn @loaded-gunn (122k)

louis tomlinson, one-time formula i world champion, is looking forward to the 2013 season, he’s got zayn in his garage and liam in his ear, he’s got cowell racing backing him despite former indiscretions, he’s got experience and the best race car out there. not to mention he’s the only racer they have, after oliver dropped out late last year.

it hasn’t occured to him that oliver would have to be replaced by february. that is, until he finds himself at a party celebrating harry styles leaving ferarri for cowell. harry hotshot styles, who broke a record last year and is probably looking to make a big splash. harry styles, who is talented and somewhat intimidating. harry styles, who left ferarri for reasons unknown and seems kind of lonely and harmless in person. lonely, harmless, hot as fuck. whatever.

the first thing louis does is take him under his wing. from there it’s nine months of slow-burning romance, the past catching up to them, turning into the human puppy pile that is ot5 and a lot of feelings until, of course, reaching the finish line.

tired tired sea by mediawhore @mediawhorefics (113k)

as a b&b owner on the most remote of all the british isles, louis tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sol companions. until one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.

here in the afterglow by fondleeds @fondleeds (88k)

"if you hadn’t noticed, i don’t have many friends,” louis whispers, the blossom of insecurity in his stomach unfurling and clawing his way into his throat.

harry is silent for a long time, and then he speaks; a soft, slow uncurl that makes louis’ stomach shake. “i’ll be your friend.”

or, 1970’s au. in a tiny town in idaho, louis’ life changed forever by the arrival of a curious stranger.

chasing empty spaces by domesticharry @domestic-harry (79k)

the year is 1934 and harry styles was to inherit the largest tobacco firm in the south. his parents have picked out the “perfect” girl for him to marry and he has the privilege of receiving the highest education possible. the problem was, harry hadn’t realized that he didn’t want nay part of the future until he met a mechanic named, louis tomlinson.

don’t want shelter by kingsofeverything @kingsofeverything (76k)

louis and harry have known each other all their lives. friends as children, they danced around each other as teenagers, and have spent the last twenty-five years either screaming at each other or not speaking at all. except for that one time ten years ago...

when hurricane nicole threatens the coast, they end up stuck together in their families' old vacation home that they begrudgingly co-own.

during the storm, and in the months after, they’re both forced to reevaluate their history and what they mean to each other

money moves by mmaree @zqua1d (74k)

"i’ll cut straight to the chase,“ liam announces. he leans forward, and zayn is met with steely eyes and steepled fingers. "i’m willing to offer you fifty grand if you’ll enter into a small…partnership with me. this would be in addition to your salary at payne innovations, of course. think of it as a bonus.”

zayn narrow his eyes. “what kind of partnership?”

"a fake engagement.“

"oh,” zayn says, relived it’s nothing illegal. “wait–what?”

“a fake engagement,” his boss repeats slowly, as if he’s convinced zayn’s comprehension skills are significantly lacking. “for six months. maybe less if i can pull it off sooner but don’t worry– you’ll be paid the full sum regardless of how long it takes.”

zayn’s suspicious, and he doesn’t even know why. there’s nothing to be suspicious of because, clearly, liam’s lost the plot. zayn’s having a conversation with a complete nutter. there’s no other reasonable explanation.

he clears his throat, searches liam’s eyes for a sign he’s taking the piss. “how long what takes?”

a smile plays at liam’s lips. “for me to be hired as the cto at titan technologies.”

to the ends of the earth by stylinsoncity @aliensingucci (68k)

during a yearlong hiatus, louis visits harry at his cabin in idaho, where long-buried feelings ignite like the fire keeping them warm.

lend me your hand by quickedween (63k)

society has long since decided that the soulmarks everyone is born with are entirely unfashionable. they’re just another way for people of a lower class to scam their way into marrying above their station.

lord louis tomlinson viscount loring, on the other hand, has always believed that he will find his soulmate one day. despite preparing for a match his whole life, he is entirely unprepared for the arrival of gemma styles’ younger brother.

harry styles has been travelling and away from society for over a year. coming back, he intends to spend time with his sister, and slowly reacquaint himself with life in town. he doesn’t need to wait around for a soulmark to determine how his life will play out.

small doses (loving you it’s explosive) by quickedween (40k)

louis tomlinson finds himself at vitality fitness to try and turn his life around after having left his cheating boyfriends of four years. the gym’s owner, liam, quickly becomes a good friend but his right hand man is rude and dismissive from the get-go.

louis and harry continue to clash all while harry is trying to move his way up the ranks in manchester’s amateur boxing circuit, but they can’t seem to stay away from each other.

learning to eat by photo41 (28k)

celebrity chef louis tomlinson has a problem, he’s opening his first restaurant in 9 week . and he has yet to hire a pastry chef- apparently people think he’s “standoffish” and “rude” and “quick to temper” . whatever. he ends u saddled with an annoying, happy-go-lucky rookie who also happens to be obnoxiously good looking. his tv presenter and pop star friends only add to the drama, and for fucks sake would everyone please stop quoting julia child?!

these roads we stumble down by onewasturning @onewasturning (18k)

he’s completely drenched, not one milimetre of him covered in rain, and the old sheepskin cover over the seat is probably going to stink afterwards from the damp. but even with what seems to be a constant tremor shaking his body, brown hair plastered to his forehead, and a blue tinge to his skin, he’s still probably the most gorgeous person that harry has ever seen.

or, harry picks up a hitchhiker in oxford, and it’s a long ride to glasgow.

#this took an embarassing amount of time and its not even all of them #anyways hope this was useful to someone !#also i am allergic to capital letters muah #fic rec #mine

109 notes · View notes

itsclownhours · 3 years

Conversation

merlin as tumblr posts again because when i edited a typo in the original it fucked up the formatting

everyone: you have to make time for yourself

morgana: *stays up until 1 am every night crying* me time

morgana: ohhhh so the pain is forever and endless i get it now

young!mordred: once i learn how to read and write it’s over for you hoes

lancelot, in cursive: i can’t read cursive handwriting

gwaine: what does this say

elyan: i can’t read cursive handwriting

gwaine: bitch me neither that’s why i asked

arthur, to merlin, about lancelot: is he...y’know…*gestures downard to super hell*

uther, straight: hey what’s up guys do you want to go get some food

arthur and morgana, gay: ??????

uther: oh sorry i mean asgdhjdhs guys do you??? want some food??? lmao ashdjdjhs

arthur and morgana: oh! agshdjjshsj yeah lmao agshdj

morgana: do you ever associate the word “girlfriend” with wlw so much that you forget straight boys have girlfriends

gwen: am taking care of a tiny kitten. have given it an excellent name. dad thinks i’m calling her “minty” but this is actually short for The Government

gwen: The Government bit my finger and pooped on the floor

gwaine: peak art is when you were like six and you scribbled all over ms paint and then carefully paintbucketed in all the different shapes in the scribbles to make “stained glass”

morgause: forcing my car to commit sins so it goes to hell with me when i die

leon, after arthur gives the knights a pep talk: so motivational...time to drill a hole in my skull

morgana: i want to be a she really did that!! kind of girl but i don’t do anything

arthur: pros and cons of being my friend:

arthur: pro: you have a friend

arthur: con: it’s me

gwaine, to lancelot: bro let’s watch a horror movie together...bro you look scared do you wanna share a blanket dude? if you wanna hold hands it’s ok. if you wanna rest your head on my shoulder it’s alright bro...bro if you wanna kiss that’s understandable that was a scary movie...we can keep cuddling after the movie is over it’s alright dude…

lancelot: old town road but he just keeps listing all the places he has horses

gwaine: i got the horses in the back

gwaine: horses on the track

gwaine: horses in the shack and i got horses fetching snacks

gwaine: i got the horses in earth’s core

gwaine: down under the floor

gwaine: horses in the store and i got horses on the moor

gwaine: died and came back as a cowboy i call that reintarnation

morgana: *shows up at college* excuse me will someone please direct me to the leftist brainwashing class? i’m here for the leftist brainwashing class

merlin: finally found someone i was more disappointed in that myself: the entirety of america camelot

morgause: customer (derogatory)

arthur: business major (derogatory)

leon: leonardo dicaprio date a woman over 25 challenge

gwaine: thought that said “leonardo da vinci” and was confused since da vinci was gay and also since you were calling out someone who’s been dead for well over 7 years

leon: well. da vinci has been well over 7 years, i’ll give you that

morgana: the retirement age needs to be lowered to 25. i’ve had enough

gwaine: i’m fucking in luigi’s mansion

leon: who?

gwaine: some italian freak

gwaine: oh you meant who am i fucking. your mom

leon: stop setting things on fire because you’re curious about what will happen. what will happen is fire

gwaine: but what if...something else happens. just this 1 time

morgause: bored? burn an orphan. who’re they gonna tell? their parents?

morgana: due to personal reasons i will be a serial arsonist

mithian: fruit (affectionate)

arthur: going to the fruit (derogatory) store do you want anything

gwen: fruit (salad, yummy yummy)

morgana, to gwen: i’m allergic to hookup culture and too weird to participate anyway. die in my arms

kilgharrah: i am fast and full of teeth. i will die in a barn fire

morgana: not evil anymore i want to be loved now

morgana: evil again

morgause: every day i put on my evil little clothes and do my evil little tasks

percival: megan thee stallion and timothee chalamet are the same age

gwaine: megan thee stallion 🤝 timo thee chalamet

morgana: hey how many swords do you have

morgause: sword of a lot

morgana: blocked

morgause: parried

morgana and gwen simultaneously in 1x10: *chanting* girls with swords girls with swords

morgana: the more knives you have the more valid you are

kilgharrah: blocked. blocked. blocked. you’re all blocked. none of you are free from sin.

morgana: seven deadly sins speedrun

gwaine: i want 6 pet sloths so i can name them after every sin except for sloth

merlin: the eighth deadly sin is networking

arthur: online school culture is constantly wondering if there’s a sneaky little assignment you missed...is it tucked under modules or assignments or heaven forbid, announcements? who’s to say?

gaius: asynchronous learning

merlin, a clown: mmmnaptime

arthur: have you ever just cried because you’re you

elyan, to percival: bro, we are teens . it’s ok to cry around me . i’m your best friend . i love you … bro we are kissing now … no don’t stop bro … bro …

morgana: mad bc i was told as the bride my wedding would be “my day” but actually where will be a whole other bride there and we will have to share it

leon: i’m disgusted every time someone does a gender reveal and it’s about a gender i already know about, what kind of reveal is that

leon: gender reveal party??? no, this is a gender repeal party. we out here revoking genders

gwaine: you’re laughing. i asked you who sings party rock anthem and you’re laughing

gwaine: make no mistake not only am i party rocking but i’m also in the house tonight

elyan: are you shuffling?

gwaine: everyday

morgana: lung extensions

morgana: with extended lungs you can: scream longer, breathe harder, brag about extended lungs

morgana: this procedure is not legal but i will do it for you

morgana: do not tell the police or morgause

morgana: i’m so sick of dna, i’m going to have all mine removed

morgause: good news! this is a real thing that can happen to you

morgana: perfect, sign me up

morgana: if YOU die because i poisoned you...how is that MY fault like i’m sorry you aren’t immune to my poisons i think that’s genuinely something you need to work on. fix yourself before blaming others

arthur: my body is NOT a “temple”...it is a CLOWN CAR and NONE OF THESE BITCHES KNOW HOW TO DRIVE

morgause: live

morgause: laugh

morgause: l u r k

mcdonald’s employee: please sir get off the table

gwaine: I ASKED FOR TWO LARGE FRIES *dumping bag of fried out onto the floor* BUT INSTEAD GOT A HUNDRED FUCKEN LITTLE ONES

merlin: i relate to vampires because i too must be clearly and specifically invited in before i have the audacity to try to participate in anything

gwaine: it can’t be september, just yesterday is was marchgustuary

lancelot: today’s date: [REDACTED]/[REDACTED]/20

gwaine: why are internet friends not normalized. it’s 2020 they’re probably making robots that will wipe your ass for you and i can’t text grace in the uk and tell her to have a good day? fuck you

percival: imagine if halsey was in beauty and the beast

elyan: are you insane like gaston. been in pain like gaston. bought a hundred dollar bottle of champagne like gaston

arthur: my dad is learning about pronouns/gender identity and he called me in the middle of the night to tell me he is cis

merlin: ough. those first 400 bites of dirt were not so good. maybe the next one will be better

morgana: i’m at the dark candy store, buying sorrowful ranchers

merlin: i’m surprised no one has ever punched me in the face

gwen: i want a gf so i can send her memes about loving my gf

morgause: oh to cook with my wife and stand directly in front of cabinets and drawers she needs to open

morgause: decided i will no longer be paying taxes. what are they gonna do, tax me more? go ahead. i won’t pay those either. oh i’m going to prison? the one paid for by my tax dollars? sorry, didn’t pay em. now there is no prison. i am at least 3 steps ahead of the government at all times

merlin: lab safety but the teacher just wants to you die

merlin: lab safety: 1. drink whatever’s in that beaker. i know you fucking want to

morgause: my therapist is selling her house so i’m gonna find the listing online and make her living room my zoom backgrounds before our next session. you wanna get in my head? ok well i’m in your home babe. i’m in charge now

morgana: yeah i see why you’re in therapy

morgana: i hate it when people ask me to “explain my thought process” like hell if i know

morgana: what’s going on in that head of yours?” nothing i want to be a part of

mordred: hey girls what’s the hot gossip what’s new what’s the 411

morgana and morgause: everything is bad and getting worse by the day

morgause: common letter greetings from 1889

morgause: dearest my-soon-to-be-enemy

morgause: salutations and i hope you enjoy contact prison

morgause: i hope this letter finds you in a ditch

arthur: *highlights all the wrong and unimportant stuff with full confidence*

merlin: i’ve tried opening my mouth and saying words before and i’ve gotta say, i’m not a fan

morgana: a large group of humans is called a fuck that

website: synonyms for blood: juice

mithian: thank you thesaurus.com, that is absolutely not what i was looking for

gwaine: gen z humor was single-handedly cultivated by the zoo wee mama comic and you can’t convince me otherwise

morgana: screw this it’s halloween now *turns into a swarm of bats them consumes the moon*

morgana: i can’t believe the heterosexuals are gone. they’re gone

uther: we’re still here

arthur: who said that

gwaine: no more france

gwaine: society has progressed passed the need for france

morgause: girls night out (of body experience)

morgana, to morgause: what do you mean “what have i been up to”...i’m out here ruining my own life as always bitch

merlin: stop complaining about your life. there are literally people living in camelot

arthur, trying to find new knights: oh so you’re a human? name three pictures with traffic lights in them

gwaine: we mcfreaking lost her doctor

morgause: looking for a wife in the walmart

morgause: arrested for visiting www.killing.com/murder

gwaine, to merlin: no bro this isn’t a date listen bro

gwaine: it’s bruhnch

morgause, to cenred: if you think i’m not interested, you’re right

gwen: put a pancake on a girl’s head when she’s asleep to keep her warm and safe

morgana: idk what mad scientist needs to hear this today but your goggles and lab coat are incredibly flattering and all your experiments will block away the scientific community who called you a fool

morgause: i’m gonna fucking die disease

morgause: symptoms: back hurts a bit too much for a bit too long

arthur: if you think i’m annoying now wait until i get over my fear of being perceived as annoying

merlin: sorry if i’m bothering you

surgeon: how do you keep waking up and saying that

gwaine: home depot needs more small tunnels for me to crawl through tbh

percival: hot tip: soup is customizable! go wild but know your limits

morgana: brains say “i know a spot” and take you to a traumatic memory from 2011

mithian: “can you multitask” yes actually i am losing my mind and chilling at the same time

morgana: quarantine schedule to keep you on track

morgana: wake up

morgana: neglect online school

morgana: yearn (ongoing project)

morgana: again!

mithian: if cats don’t want to be held like little babies maybe they shouldn’t be roughly the size and shape of little babies

morgause: fuck this pandemic i could’ve ruined 2020 on my own

morgana: a cute girl told me she has lots of plants in her house and i told her for some fucking reason “damn the oxygen at your place must be mad crisp” and somehow still got her number so. chase your dreams. nothing is impossible apparently

morgana: oh to wear a knife strapped against my thigh beneath a silk dress

morgana, running off with morgause at the end of season 2: i hate this place i want to go to build a bear

morgana, at work: i’m evil

morgana, 1 second after clocking out: not evil anymore i want to be loved now

morgana, the next day at work: evil again

season 2 morgana: i am fine thank you for asking! though recently there has been a darkness growing within me

morgause: *thinks about love* okay well i am just losing my mind and being insane now

arthur: you think you can hurt my feelings? i’ve been the least favorite in every single friendship group i’ve had since i was 8

morgana, staring out the window at arthur and merlin: look at them plotting my downfall

mithian: i wanna buy clown noses in bulk and start sticking them on every person i see whose mask is pulled too low

mithian: oh to be a tiny cat whose biggest concern is the looming threat of being gently picked up and kissed on the head

morgana: i deserve to be kissed

morgana: did you have a homoerotic friendship with a girl in high school that ended in tragedy and you two are never talking again or are you normal?

mithian: just diagnosed with forehead kiss deficiency :/

morgana: i think i’ll continue to wear a mask when this shit’s all over, and huge sunglasses. my face is none of your business

morgause: my therapist told me that sometimes when a person consumes the same piece of media over and over they may be unconsciously coping with a mental block so now i’m trying to figure out what the fuck i was going through that made me watch ratatouille 8 times a day for a solid month in middle school

morgause: opposite of depression nap. depression awakeness. refreshing the same three websites over and over. there’s nothing new on any of them. eight seconds have passed and it feels like a century

morgana: very homophobic that my head is not laying on the chest of my maidservant as i am drifting off to sleep

merlin: no no, it’s fine, i’ll text myself back

morgana: *pines* *longs* *yearns* *pines* *longs* *yearns* *pines* *longs* *yearns* *pines* *longs* *yearns* *pines* *longs* *yearns* *pines* *longs* *yearns* *pines* *longs* *yearns* *pines* *longs* *yearns*

arthur: i’d have to be a fool not to? being a fool and not doing things are my top two activities

gwaine: you think it’s easy to be me? you think it’s easy to get up every. single. day. and be an industrial grade dumbass? well it’s not. but that’s what i do. and i’ll never stop.

morgana: ah shit i’m sorry man, my schedule for the week is all booked

sunday: yearn

monday: pine

tuesday: long

wednesday: ache

thursday: sigh

friday: lament

saturday: crave

morgana: talents include: being a public menace, denying God’s will, petting dogs, yearning, being dramatic, witchcraft, quoting classic literature when no one asked, napping, befriending a murder of crows, being gay, covering up my emotions by being “the funny friend” when in reality i’m really going through it, wistfully staring out the car window

merlin: *doesn’t even do the bare minimum* all in a day’s work

cenred: a “period” is not an excuse to have an attitude

morgause: i miss the times when men would go to war and die

morgana: the cheap halloween vampire fangs stay ON during sex

gwen: maybe i pspspspsp’ed you because i love you. did you think of that? huh?

morgana: mom said it’s my turn to hand out the ominous and vague warnings

arthur: that wasn’t mom

uther: she JUST SAID it was her turn

morgause: i’m a chill person but if my back doesn’t stop hurting i’m going to take out my spine and beat God with it

mithian: one of these days i’m going to say the f word

mithian: then you’ll all be sorry

morgause: 3 words every girl wants to hear

morgause: club penguin membership

morgana: hmm, yes.

morgana: time to s i p

morgana: some *~crispy~*

morgana: d i h y d r o g e n m o n o x i d e

morgause: roll call! raise your hand if you’re in the following fandoms:

morgause: 1. suffering 2. the pain of living

morgana: *raises both hands and a leg*

leon: it’s so hard being a single mom when you have no kids and are a male teenager

merlin: yeah bro hit me up and we’ll cancel some plans sometime

morgana: my brain, or as i like to call it, the suffer contraption

morgause: my circle so small i almost cut myself off

morgause hyping herself up before entering any public area: i’m normal i’m normal i’m normal i’m normal i’m normal i’m normal i’m normal i’m normal i’m normal i’m normal i’m normal i’m normal i’m normal i’m normal i’m normal

arthur: today in french we learned how to say “what’s in the bag” and i couldn’t stop laughing because

arthur: swaggity swag qu’est-ce qui dans le sac

merlin: even when i am not speaking, know that horrible sentences are raging within me

mithian in 5x04: sorry bro i can’t go out tonight. i’m stuck in an eternal state of melancholy

morgause: shower gel label: immerse yourself in this new “Me Time” luxury frooty tooty. abandon all sense of identity and dissolve your memories into this soothing chemical broth. one billion melons are in this tube...use them wisely

leon, writing a headline about the most recent knights’ mission: local dumbasses knew that what they were getting themselves into and did it anyways

morgana: *feels random pain in body*

morgana: kill me

mithian: *slowly inches closer to your pet*

morgause: *refuses to look at texts* i love conversation and communication

arthur: cute gender neutral things to call your partner

arthur: significant annoyance

leon: the most unrealistic fantasy trope is the one where half of the pair works in some sort of shop and one is a customer because i have literally never thought about a customer with anything other than contempt

gwaine: why is everyone talking about 1d all of a sudden did one of them die

elyan: they’re 10 years old now

gwaine: i wish them luck 4th grade is tough!!

gwaine: must i pursue a career? is it not enough to be passionate about tv shows and snack foods?

leon, aroace: cool date idea: me eating oatmeal by myself

morgana: i have no self of steam

gwaine: i hate wearing a mask. i miss being able to gently kiss my trader joe’s cashier on the lips after they ring up my $8 box of blueberries

morgana: committing acts of violence today…*pushes morgause’s glass of water off the counter*

gwaine: mario will do anything to put a smile on your face

morgana: haha we get along so well...our brains just work the same way

morgause, after changing her entire personality to match morgana’s after analyzing the way she talks and texts: haha yeah it’s incredible

gwaine: covered in sauce, trembling

arthur: *says the vaguest most incoherent shit ever*

arthur: you know what i mean :/

[online]

morgana: *screenshots things her girlfriend said to her so she can read it again later* yeah i’m not gay

uther: dude no offence i don’t want to sound like an sjw or anything but if you have a girlfriend you’re straight. that’s just how it works

morgana: i’m a girl

uther: what the fuck

morgana: the second you say “family group chat” i know we are not the same

gwen: what if early in the morning after buying groceries we got caught in the rain and i used my jacket to cover your head ut we still got soaked and we made a fire at home and brewed tea and sat together watching the rain as our cats hid under our feets at each sound of thunder and we ate stew for dinner and watched tv until we fell asleep on the couch with your head resting on my shoulder

gwaine, to percival: hold my hand bro we’re crossing the street

percival: imageine if we all just started ignoring celebrities though

percival: i can’t stop thinking about how funny this would be. imagine kyie jenner posting a selfie and it gets 12 likes

morgana: this isn’t fun anymore i need a kiss

morgause at 1159 pm: life’s great lol

morgause at 1201 am: does anyone really know me? most importantly do i really know me? what if life doesn’t get better than this?

merlin: king i needbfjdjgnjfg qldkr snmsmdjgjt ….. .. i need--fjrjkrhgphpqn dd

arthur: huh *dunks merlin’s head back underwater*

morgana: i don’t go to therapy or take any pills i just rawdog life and let my brain turn into soup

mordred: dark emails

morgause: to whom it WILL concern

morgana: now that this email has found you

gwaine: hi waiter could i get the spaghetti i promise i’ll behave this time

merlin: the sexiest thing about me? everything hurts my feelings

gwaine: how is sex fun if i have to remove my crocs to have it

elyan: if he makes you remove your crocs for sex he isn’t the one

morgause: a motherfucker could use an embrace

morgana: every night after 10pm my feelings start crawling out, starved, as i beat them with a moderately large stick vigorously hissing “stay back” until i inevitably fall asleep

fanfiction: there’s only one room available…

morgause, who specifically chose a rated m and explicit story: oh my gosh there’s only one room they’re gonna share a bed what’s gonna happen next

morgana: i can have a little unrealistic romantic fantasy. as a treat

arthur: some of y’all weren’t asked out as a joke in middle school and it shows

morgana: how is everyone doing. i’ll go first i’m doing badly

morgana: being a kid was so fucking funny we’d just go around lying to each other’s faces constantly to impress each other one of the knights told me he was the first person to visit the sun and when i asked him what it was like to prove he was lying he said he didn’t remember because they sent him there when he was a baby and to this day the mental image of nasa launching an unsupervised baby into the sun still makes me crack up

elyan: do you wish you were seeing somebody

leon: a therapist

morgause: when you see someone from high school and they don’t recognize you that’s the exact opposite of the mortifying ordeal of being known. the gratifying relief of being forgotten

[texting]

morgana: you seem hard to kill

morgause: aw thank you

morgause: i haven’t been killed yet

morgana: to your knowledge

morgause: what

morgana: just truly bonkers how much i love lying down……..like being horizontal? Unparalleled

arthur: when i was younger i really thought that piranhas were going to be a bigger issue for me than they’ve turned out to be

morgause: filling out the depression and anxiety checkboxes at the doctors is always so sad but also very very funny

morgause: i am handed a piece of paper. i check off a box that says “every day i wish i were dead”. i hand back the paper. the paper and its contents are never again discussed.

morgana: unfortunately, due to several experiences in my youth, i cannot just “walk up and join the circle of people talking”, but it does sound lovely thank you

morgana: if california is so expensive why don’t you move to somewhere like ohio

morgause: full offense but i’d rather be dead in california than alive in ohio

morgause: ugly and uninspiring--review of ohio

morgana: staying up late not even fun anymore it’s just sad

morgause: everyone should be comfortable in their own skin :)

morgause’s brain: except for you

morgause: except for me :)

mithian: please peer pressure me into finishing projects

merlin: do it or you’re straight

mithian: i said peer pressure not threaten

morgause: the year is 2030. bakery art is so realistic, literally anything could be cake. the uncertainty has gripped the world in fear. i go to hug my wife for comfort. she is cake.

morgause: i sob in despair as i eat my cake wife. she is delicious

gwen: do ladies love stupid men or do they just love men who don’t exhaust every opportunity to feel smart

gwen: “i used to think that melancholy was a vegetable” that’s incredible, let’s hang out more

morgause: basically i accidentally listened to a song a few years ago and it led to this

morgana: *desperately tries to romanticise her homework*

uther: do i have to be pretty? is it not enough to simply be the loudest person in the room with the worst opinions

morgana: oh i can’t possibly study, i have allotted the next six hours to yearning vaguely

morgause: allow me to de-introduce myself

morgause: my name is [redacted]

arthur: i have no good posts today i’m sorry guys

merlin: haha “today”

mordred: “do we perhaps use magic because we were bullied and needed blah blah special interest blah blah” shut the FUCK up i use magic to see my anime husband’s big fucking honkers. sorry you got pantsed in front of your crush

morgana: i came here to bully people

mordred: is it because you got pantsed in front of your crush

morgana: no it’s because i’m deranged

mithian: pretty sure seven deadly sins is a bit excessive

mithian: just combine wrath and gluttony and make hangry

mithian: sloth and pride make Bottoming

morgana: despicable me ruined the word minion whenever i become a supervillain i’m just going to have to call them my homies or whatever

gwen: as a bisexual i am attracted to lanky boys with dark hair, girls who look like they could kill me, and anyone wearing vampire teeth

morgana: if someone tried to assassinate me that would make me feel so important and valued and beloved

gwaine: turn down for whom?

mithian: fact: usage of the word “the” has begun to decline. this is because as more and more people become educated, usage of the word “thoum’st” has become more common.

morgana, kidnapping mithian in 5x04: truth or dare? uhhh i dare you to………………………………..fall in love with me. haha i’m just joking bro………………..unless…………………………?

gwaine: my thoughts are like a clearance sale

gwaine: once it’s gone it’s gone

morgana: *pronounces “hors d’oeuvres” as “horse divorce” specifically to piss off morgause*

gwaine: do you prefer women or men?

leon: death

morgause: honestly no offense but i love falling asleep and sleeping. it’s like. ok goodnight

morgause: ngl it’s kinda difficult to be the moody and mysterious background character in everyone’s life when you’re quarantined at home

morgause: i need to get laid

morgause: --to rest. put me in a coffin, let my soul ascend

gwaine: it takes a lot of heart to be this stupid

gwaine: it takes real strength not to know shit about fuck

elyan: what’s your favorite anime?

leon: i’m a christian

arthur: just bought this tapeworm from etsy!

lancelot: where are you gonna keep it

arthur: :)

merlin: i don’t like this conversion very much

gwaine: i’m home alone with the tv repair man

gwaine: i’m no fool, there are only two possible outcomes of this scenario

gwaine: porn or murder

gwaine, an hour later: apparently there was an unforeseen third outcome where he fixes the tv and then leaves

morgause: well tomorrow fucking sucked

morgana: dark brunch

morgana: *mixes a mimosa with evil intent*

morgause: this is just what being gay is like

gwaine: movie idea: guy finds a stone tablet engraved with a mysterious alien language and gets caught up in a national treasure-esque adventure to decipher its meaning, only to learn that it’s just an alien “live laugh love” decoration

arthur: sorry i didn’t mean to open your ig story 20 seconds after you posted i’m just unemployed

arthur: why do you say men are objects? that’s not true and hurtful

morgana: men are on sale at the grocery store for a few dollars

cenred: why do you say men are objects? that’s not true and hurtful

morgause: men are on sale at the grocery store for a few dollars

morgana: wow would you look at that. it’s already that time of the night where i move the stuff on my bed to my chair. can’t wait until tomorrow when i move the stuff from my chair back onto my bed

gwaine: hi i’m bethany with girl defined ministry and today we are going to be talking about how to stan my chemical romance in a God-honoring way

morgana: bottom: ,,, !!! ;;; vers: …. top: no punctuation whatsoever

morgause: tops are illiterate

morgause: i slept for almost 12 hours but i might still be tired so let’s go for 12 more just in case

morgana: morgause that’s a coma

morgause: sounds festive

mithian: i am a simple woman. i enter the kitchen. i eat four servings of bread products. i leave.

gwaine: it’s one serving if you serve all of it to yourself

mithian: i like the way you think, friend

gwaine: spencer from icarly and rodrick from diary of a wimpy kid are on the opposite ends of the same spectrum

elyan: the gay older brother scale

merlin: i found a rock :)

merlin: my troubles will soon be over

gwaine: parasite (2019) dir. bong joon ho

percival: uncut gems (2019) dir. josh and benny safdie

elyan: cain

morgana: social distancing is okay for me bc i’ve been touch starved since the 15th century. i’m used to it

mithian: fanfiction hits different when you’re gay and yearning and haven’t experienced an ounce of romance in your life

morgause: callout for rude baby seen at grocery store

morgause: i’m calling out a baby (approximately 12-14 months old) from the grocery store due to its rudeness. i’m guessing its age based on appearance, motor skills (atrocious) and whatnot. anyway, i smiled at this baby and it just stared at me. as soon as i began to move on, though, the baby said “no!” and started giggling when i turned back around. this happened multiple times. the baby’s actions were toxic and manipulative. the baby was also manhandling a package of dried fruit which wasn’t yet paid for (quite minor) and was just generally sitting around and not helping

gwen: we need to melt down all the pennies and make the statue of liberty a girlfriend

morgause: had a realization in a dream i just had that this isn’t real and i can just do whatever i want and so i started shrinking the face of this guy that was talking to me and then once it got real small i woke up sleep paralyzed

morgause: i was given godlike powers over the universe by realizing it’s all in my head and the first thing i did was use them to torment the nearest man

morgause: and the actual God woke me up and put be into a 5 minute timeout to lay frozen and think about what i’ve done

morgana: does anyone else feel an awkward tension whenever you see another person your age in the grocery store

gwaine: the number 87 kinda looks like a plague doctor

percival: you’ve just changed the fucking game

elyan: [|87

morgana: a lonely bitch...a loner...i love isolation AND detachment

gwaine: i will not call the judges “your honor”. in america we don’t have titles of nobility. they will get a simple “yes dude” from me

gwaine: calling big bird just “bird” because i do not respect him

morgause: *photo of a pizza in a bad* caught the bae sleepin

mordred: now why would you waste a perfectly good pizza :(

morgause: that “waste” happens to be my wife getting her beauty sleep. think before you speak

gwaine: *finishes wedding vows* don’t forget to like and subscribe

morgana: *is bitter but is also right*

morgana: how dare you not notice me when i’m ignoring you

morgause, killing cenred: men be like i’m bilingual i speak english and over women

gwaine: after i move i really wanna get a used roomba

percival: i love that you’re adopting instead of buying from a breeder

mordred: joking about a kink is a gateway drug into developing said kink

morgana: my kink is mental, emotional, and financial stability

morgause: unrealistic, settle for choking like normal people

gaius: gay people use halloween props as home decor year round

morgana: shut up shut up this black jar with a raven painted on it is holiday-neutral

[texting]

morgause: can you come out?

morgana: yeah gimme a minute

morgana: morgause, i’m gay

morgause: i know that. come out to the car

morgana: car, i’m gay

morgause: God FUCKING damnit i’m such a hopeless romantic one day someone’s gonna say “i love you” and i’m just going to let out an agonized scream so horrible that they immediately change their mind

gaius: i’m not wearing glasses anymore i’ve seen enough

morgause: sorry my battery’s on 96% i gtg

morgause: you hate me? wow you think you’re hot shit and original huh well i hated me first so you can go grab a number and wait your turn

morgana: don’t ignore me ?? i despise being ignored ?? i mean i’m ignoring like 8 people right now but still ???

morgana: shoutout to my favorite coping mechanism, isolation

morgana: the concept of physical beauty is a scam unless you’re calling me cute in which case it is valid, actually

merlin: oh, so when other people go outside it’s “good for their health” and “highly recommended”, it’s only when i do it that it’s a “containment breach” and a “high-level threat to public safety and security”, huh?

gwaine: a charming photo of young john mulaney, seemingly celebrating the kennedy assassination

merlin: princess diana wasn’t john mulaney’s first kill

morgause: hate when i got out in public and the public is there

morgana: it seems the public is no longer in the public

morgause: i’ve won...but at what cost?

morgana: girls will see a chance to commit arson and be like “sorry, i have to take this”

morgause: girls will see a building that’s not on fire and say “is anyone gonna burn that” and not wait for an answer

#puff does things #long post

3 notes · View notes

homestuckcontroversyin2020 · 4 years

Text

My Opinions on The Epilogues

So I expect that this isn’t going to go over too well, whether it be because I get absolutely zero attention on this post, or for the fact that I’m literally typing up what is probably a hate post that’ll spark up some, “Oh fuck you.” comments. Either way, I don’t really care about the possible hate to be garnered or anything. I’m here to state my opinion on this, and opinions can’t kill anyone when you’re as weak at arguing as I myself am. Now, this isn’t a fucking logical article, I’m not taking time with comprehensive research and making sure I fact check every little detail because that would involve reading Homestuck for and eighth time and re-reading the Epilogues so I have the biggest refresher in the world. I’m not doing that, so take my sub-par rambles.

Preface over, let’s get into the meat.

My original thought when I heard that the Epilogues came out was initially an eye roll big enough to be like when Hulk smashed Loki in the ground. An arch of, “What the fuck, Hussie.” In other words? I didn’t want to read them. I spent the first few days in agony, complaining about how Homestuck was probably just becoming a money grab, and hearing from other people about the content that came out.

It.. wasn’t as bad as I expected when I jumped into it. People made a bigger deal about them than I thought was even insanely possible. Let me get this out of the way. I don’t hate the Epilogues. Do I think they were poorly done? Yes. Do I think that the writing was subpar? Absolutely. Do I think that fourteen year olds in their bedroom typing away at shitty fanfiction or roleplaying smut on MxRP/MSPARP have a better grasp on the characterization of each individual character than the people who took over and wrote the Epilogues? 10000%. Still, I thought they were a clever addition to alternate timelines. I had heard from a source they were meant to be a satirical take on fanfiction, and was a mocking poke at the Homestuck community... until Beyond Canon came out.

So here we are now with an 18 year old who’s spent their time on this planet obsessing over Homestuck since before they could read cuss words without feeling embarrassed telling you about how they’re pissed off with some small things that are of no value.

I’m an Alpha Kid Stan(TM) so everything that happened to my sweet babies has made me want to blow my brains out over the walls. Let’s go down the line.

Jane, sweetheart? Who hurt you? Now, I’ll be honest, I rushed through the Epilogues in my, ‘fuck I don’t want to read this but I feel like I need to in order to satiate my burning curiosity.’ mode. Jane’s whole... situation seems really fucked up to me. The color of her text in the EPs is another thing that pissed me off beyond belief, and I’m not sure why. The consistency between comic and canon was draining on my nerves. Jane, in Homestuck, is a whiny teen, but in no way do I look at her and see racist Hitler. Also, what the fuck was up with the clown thing? Why did she have an obsession with fucking Jake? Sure, she was into him before, but wasn’t part of her character arch getting over the buck toothed bangaroo? I thought so. I also thought that Jane was, you know, just a normal girl living her best life. She sure complained, but who doesn’t?? The Jane we’re given in the Epilogues seems to lack the internal dilemmas that the dear, sweet Crocker we’ve grown fond of does. There’s barely a hit of self hate, she doesn’t blow up, and sure we could possibly count this to her being older, but, what? She didn’t seem to be pissed off about the entire existence of trolls in Homestuck. Sure, her time with them was minimal and she didn’t really get all the shit through, but she fought side by side with Kanaya, even. I just don’t see it at all.

Jake. Oh boy. This is a big one. In either case, Jake’s whole thing really bothers me. He doesn’t seem like Jake. He seems like a watered down version of himself that doesn’t even make fucking sense? He’s an aloof dork, but he’s not horrendously stupid, there’s no reason to make him an alcoholic, and why the fuck is he an attention seeking slut? Yes, yes. We could blame this all on Dirk but really, what were the authors thinking? They had complete control over what happens in this and they turn Jake into something he’s not. He had other drives and passions than living out his life as the sexy action movie woman we all need in our lives. Jake’s smart to his own degree, stubborn, and kind of a flirt! He’s not insanely oblivious, either. For instance, I recall a specific moment where he insinuates that Jane was having a wet dream about him in Homestuck. I’m not going to find the quote, but I know it’s there. Jake spent time working on the robot rabbit for John with Jade and outright refused help from some outside sources. Jake is smart! He’s got an extensive vocabulary! He’s just a nerd, and he’s more than an uwu gay boy for Mr. Triangles.

Roxy, oh no. This is where I expect to get the most heat. Roxy is a beloved character. The light of my life and the best of the kids, in my opinion. (I’m an avid Dirk Stan, but Roxy has won my heart truly and thoroughly.) I don’t like the whole trans/non-binary thing. Not because I’m transphobic or anything, because I’m absolutely not. It’s because it feels like it just doesn’t fit with her as a character?? Roxy grew up in isolation in a place without humans, you really think she’s going to have an outright conceptualized view on gender roles and norms? Basic fucking psychology would tell you otherwise. This is something that her brain would have trained her to do based on a societal view. I may not have paid a huge ass amount of attention in psychology, but gender is a thing that’s completely up in the air and taught to us. Roxy didn’t have that. You could argue and say that her house has something of the sort that’d lead her to feel that way, or perhaps she’s learned this all off the internet, but her clothes scream femme and she had to make them herself, is all I’m saying. Again, whatever, go off, make Roxy trans. It’s not a huge deal, but that isn’t the only problem I have. Roxy as a character seems to have just lost her spark. There’s little outright love and enjoyment and adoration for her friends that there is in Homestuck. She’s not your hype go get them loving girl. Again, maybe you could blame this on the fact that they’re all older, but getting older isn’t going to drastically impede your previous personality and make you an entirely different person. They essentially turned Roxy into a watered down version of Dave, but trans. It’s like they couldn’t make Dave trans so they just made a new Dave. It’s annoying to me, and that’s my biggest problem. I love Roxy. I don’t care for Epilogue Roxy. If they had done it right, if they had used specific things from Homestuck, if Homestuck itself keyed in on this or ANYTHING, fine. But Roxy was old enough to question her identity, most people do around 16, and she could have had the opportunity to start representing this already. I mean, who was stopping her? Then the baby stuff. Huh? What? Why? Doesn’t make sense, pass. Her bffsy, brother, and person that cared about her most off and yeets himself from the top of the nearest belltower and all she can think about is copulating with John??? Alright, fam.

Onto Dirk. Y’know what? I don’t have many huge problems with Dirk. I found his personality in Meat really funny, I found the death in Candy absolutely soul crushing. Dirk is a good character. I don’t think they did his personality well, but I don’t think they did any of the characters well. Maybe John. Maybe. Dirk really just sounded like a child who wasn’t getting what he wanted, and it was amusing to say the least. He sounded horrible from the way people talked about him before I read it, but I really just found his overzealous ego entertaining. I found the fact that they made him still totally desperate for Jake kind of annoying though. Dirk broke of their relationship. Dirk was the one who took a moment to realize it wasn’t healthy for either of them, and getting what you want isn’t good. Taking over the narrative and making your ex nearly jizz himself in public is hilarious and all, but also, what??

Alright. Alphas. Let’s move onto Betas.

I skipped a lot of it, not going to lie. Rather than breaking it down for each character like I did with the Alphas, I’m just going to ramble and see where the wind takes. me.

I don’t ship Davekat. I don’t see it working in a romantic aspect. I see them being bros, and it felt really forced in both sides of the story. The homoerotic tension could maybe be smelled for a mile away, but lets not forget something very important. Dave has shown interest in women. Dave was interested in Terezi, he called Roxy and Jane hot, he totally fucking jizzed his jeans for Jade. The fact that so many characters in the Epilogues were exclaiming that Dave was gay, and Dave himself leaning towards the sentiment, didn’t seem to really match up. Dave’s not just pretending to like chicks either, he’s definitely interested in them to the point of being genuinely flustered and embarrassed (I.E The Hot Mom conversation.) So, I don’t really enjoy that. I think the economy shit is cute, his alternate counterpart seemed to have a good hand for business according to the spiel that was made about him, I liked it.

Rose? Didn’t pay a lot of attention to her. The drug abuse shit really pissed me off. Rose in general really pissed me off in the Epilogues.

John is a can of worms. His characterization was done well, but I guess I just don’t see the point in the two timeline deals. Also, why did he have sex with Terezi? Why was he so much of a baby when the rest of the people around him apparently seemed to mature? Who knows. I sure as hell don’t.

And... then there’s Jade. Poor, sweet Jade. She’s been done dirty almost as much as Jake has, if not worse. She has a dick for one. Yikes. She’s extremely sexually driven, which isn’t something I can see for canon Jade who just wants to hang out and vibe. She’s also so fucking insistent with the “uwu lets date Dave and Karkat” shit that it drives me up a fucking wall. Jade, you should know better! You dated an alternate version of Dave! You dated the OG motherfucker fresh timeline bitch who lost everyone, and sure he was depressed, but I think if I remember correctly you know about all of this???? Hmmmmm!!!! Big questions. It almost leads one to believe she’d know better than to enter into a relationship like this with Dave since it could be emotionally unfulfilling. :))))

Anyways, this entire thing is a can of fucking worms and I don’t suspect I’m going to use this account often aside from shitposting, so have this one uneducated article and if you made it through it and agree, disagree, or what have you, don’t be an ass in the replies? I get it, I’m opinionated and should probably shut my mouth, but it’s the internet and I don’t really care at this point.

#homestuck #epilogues #opinions #spoilers #roxy lalonde #dirk strider #dave strider #jade harley #rose lalonde #john egbert #jake english #jane crocker #rambles #controversy #trans roxy #hs epilogue

21 notes · View notes

eldritchsurveys · 3 years

Text

1089.

1 - Aside from the necessities (eating, breathing etc.) what is something you do every single day, without fail? >> Check gmail, tumblr, discord. Do my Flight Rising dailies.

2 - Do you use cash or card the most? Do you find yourself using card or contactless methods more since COVID hit? >> I use card almost exclusively (some of the less technologically up-to-date stalls at the farmer’s market make me run back to the ATM sometimes, but other than that I never carry cash). This was even before COVID, so nothing has changed for me there. 3 - Is there anything you enjoy that’s considered childish for your age? What is it? >> I don’t call anything I enjoy “childish” and I don’t think other people should either.

4 - Who’s your favourite voice actor? What’s the best thing they’ve been in? >> I don’t have one. Keith David has a great voice, though, I do love him. And of course there’s Ron Glass (RIP) :’(

5 - How many times a day do you use the bathroom? >> Like twice, normally. Three or four if I have a lot of beverages.

6 - Do you need caffeine to wake up in the morning? What’s your drink of choice? >> I don’t need anything to wake up in the morning -- sleep is one area I’ve never had serious problems in, and thank god for that, because imagine how much worse my mental health would be if I did...

7 - Are you more of an introvert or an extrovert? If you’re an introvert, do you feel like you live in a world built for extroverts? >> I prefer being alone or in very small groups (and infrequently, even then), let’s just put it that way.

8 - What do you do with old clothes you no longer want or need? >> I usually end up throwing them away, unfortunately. I used to give them to Goodwill but then I realised how much of that stuff eventually gets thrown away anyway because it doesn’t get sold and they just get way too much stuff. COVID kind of interrupted this year’s possibilities, but in the future I’m probably going to look up local nonprofit homeless services and see if they need anything I have. 9 - How old were you when you got your first pet (not a family pet, but one that you were solely responsible for)? >> I have never had this particular experience.

10 - What is something popular or fashionable that you consider to be a real waste of money? >> ---

11 - Do you donate to charity? >> No.

12 - Do you live somewhere with lots of livestock or wild animals? >> Livestock, yeah, because there are a lot of farms once you get even a mile or two outside of the city. Not so much wildlife, just your general squirrels and crows and the occasional deer family.

13 - Would you rather live somewhere rural or urban? >> More rural than urban, but not so rural that it’s an all-day affair just to get groceries, you know. Also, I like having the Internet.

14 - Is there anything (a hobby, for example) that’s guaranteed to always make you feel better when you’ve had a bad day? >> Honestly, just... being Inworld. That’s my safe zone. Even if it doesn’t make the bad feelings go away right away (that’s not always possible), it is always at least grounding and comforting to be hugged by Can Calah, or to hear D or Bruni’s voice.

15 - If you’re struggling with your mental health, who are you most likely to open up to, or would you bottle it up instead? >> I bring that stuff Inworld. It’s really difficult to be that vulnerable outworld, although I try to make small forays into vulnerability on places like my blog or certain Discord servers. They’re still small forays, though -- I’m really just testing the waters, not actually swimming like I probably should be if I want to really work at it.

16 - Do you get your five portions of fruits and veggies everyday? >> Not every day, no. I wish it were easier for me to pull that off, but it really is not.

17 - What room of your house do you spend the most time in? Is this through choice or necessity? >> My room, by choice. I like it in here, it’s my space. The first space of my own I’ve had since 2009, which was the only other time I had space of my own (and then I didn’t even enjoy it because I was horribly depressed and isolated and constantly broke).

18 - If you have pets, do you snuggle with them when you’re having a bad time? Does it make you feel better? >> That’s a thing Sparrow does, but it doesn’t do anything for me. Maybe if I had an emotional support dog...

19 - Would you ever sign up to be in the military? What if there was enforced conscription, would you go or would you object? >> Fuck. No. Fuck no. Nope. Fuck no. I’d literally rather commit suicide. Did I make myself clear?

20 - Would you ever want to go to any kind of fitness bootcamp, or does that sound like utter hell to you? >> That does sound like utter hell to me.

21 - What’s the worst job you’ve ever had? What was it that made it so bad? >> ---

22 - If you could design your own garden, what would you have in it? Do you think that dream is ever going to be achievable for you? >> I have always been most interested in the kind of gardening that was just about caring for native plants and helping them to flourish. Learning the complex intricacies of the ecosystem around me and doing my part to preserve it. Like if there needs to be more pollinators, having some hives. Or if there was once a planted lawn on the property I live on, rehabilitating the soil and replacing it with native grasses instead. I would also like to grow herbs and vegetables, and any kind of flower that is native or at least not invasive to this particular environment (especially if it’s yellow! I love all yellow flowers). I imagine it would be perfectly achievable if we ever moved into a house.

23 - Do you believe there’s life on other planets? If so, do you think it’s anything like humanity? >> I think it’s highly probable that there’s life elsewhere, but highly improbable that it’d be like humanity. But maybe like other life on this planet, particularly microbes, sure.

24 - Does it take you a long time to fall asleep at night? What do you if you’re really struggling to get to sleep? >> No, I usually fall asleep within a half-hour of laying down, as long as I’m not doing anything brain-intensive.

25 - if you drive, how many times a week do you have to fill up your car with fuel? If you don’t drive, how much do you spend a week on travel/transport? >> I don’t go anywhere, period. When I used to go places (pre-COVID), I probably spent about $30 a month tops on public transportation. Usually more like $15.

26 - What did you get the last time you went out for fast food? >> The last fast food we had was Steak and Shake, but through DoorDash. I got the jalapeño crunch burger, like I used to, but I won’t be ordering burgers anymore because I think my GI tract is over red meat (or, at least, the highly processed variety).

27 - Do you tend to snack when you’re watching TV or sitting at the computer? What’s your favourite thing to snack on? >> I like to watch something while I’m eating a meal, but I don’t really snack for the sake of snacking or anything. I just plan the two things to happen at the same time whenever I can.

28 - When was the last time you went to a zoo or wildlife park type place? >> Uh... Labor Day last year? I think?

29 - Do you think it’s cruel when people keep exotic animals as pets? Or do you think it’s okay as long as they have the space, time and money to dedicate to them? >> I do think it’s cruel. I don’t see how any sort of condition could be okay for this, no matter how hard you try. Just... go on a safari. Watch a nature documentary. Why do you have to keep wild animals in your house? Domesticated dogs and cats and lizards and shit are literally right there (and a lot of them are in shelters, just waiting for a dedicated caregiver!).

30 - If you eat meat, is there a particular animal you’d never eat? If you don’t eat meat, what’s the reason for it? >> I don’t eat a lot of meat because I don’t really crave it. Like, it doesn’t strike me as necessary for a meal, probably because I was raised not eating it. I eat chicken most often because Sparrow makes a lot of meals that include it (and fried chicken sandwiches are my kryptonite). My preference for meat-eating is to eat from local sources that employ sustainable, ecologically-informed farming practices -- but, you know. I also live in America, as well as below the poverty line for a two-person household, so this stuff is difficult. It’s often easier (and insanely cheaper) to just not eat meat at all, which may be partly how that became such a big fad.

#surveys #survey #random surveys #not for reblogging *glare*

1 note · View note

xadoheandterra · 4 years

Text

Fandom: Red vs Blue Characters: Leonard Church | Alpha, Lavernius Tucker, David | Agent Washington, Junior Summary: Church wanted the decorations to be perfect. Wash wanted Church to destress. Tucker just wanted his kid. It’s a Happy New Year, folks.

For @demi-dufresne who was my secret santa for the @redvsbluesecretsanta this year. I’m sorry this is late, hun. Work/Life balance over the holidays hit an all time fuck you, basically. I finally got it finished though! I hope it meets your requirements, as I didn’t quite go into detail about Church have DID or really about this AU-verse I kind of cobbled together. I wanted to more focus on the relationships between them and honestly I don’t feel like I could write DID without coming off as ignorant or insensitive....My interaction/knowledge of the condition is limited to one or two people that I’ve met, and a handful of internet research which a thoughtful writer does not always make.

Anyway have happy family feels!

“Church it’s fine,” Wash said exasperatedly from the couch. He watched Church as he moved around the living room and fussed over decorations that lined practically every surface with the long suffering understanding of someone utterly in love. Church went all out, and Wash could understand why. It wasn’t often they got to dress everything up and just celebrate like this. Their collective work schedules often interfered with such things.

“Fine is not good enough,” Church snapped out and fiddled with one of the streamers until it settled just right. There was the faintest twitch to his movement that Wash knew to look for, and so quickly when he noticed Church’s hand began to jerk to the side and how it messed up the work Church did Wash got to his feet and quickly grabbed the slighter man into a hug.

“He’s not gonna care either way,” Wash said softly. “Come sit down and drink some hot chocolate.”

Church stilled, and then slumped into Wash’s arms and sighed heavily. “I was—was doing the thing again, wasn’t I.”

Wash hummed and maneuvered Church out of the living room and over to the kitchen. He bundled the other man into a chair and grabbed the nearest blanket to wrap around Church’s shoulders while he put together some hot chocolate. The window outside painted a frosted picture of the New York skyline. Church clutched at the blanket and looked out the window as Wash moved around the kitchen.

“You know I don’t mean to?” Church said, as Wash came back to the table and wrapped his hands around the hot mug.

“We know,” Wash gave Church a sad sort of smile and pat the younger man’s hand. “And it’s not like I mind Delta, you know.”

Church snorted. “Oh yeah?” He took a sip of his hot chocolate and pulled his gaze away from the window. “Which one is Delta?”

“Logical.” Wash tilted his head back to regard Church. “He tends to push up his glasses—like this—” Wash mimed the motion on his own face and Church reached up to fiddle with his corrective lenses, surprised. “—especially when he’s lecturing.”

“Sounds like he’s not that bad,” Church said and looked down at his mug of chocolate. “Could be worse, I suppose.”

Wash hummed, then reached out and grasped at Church’s hand. “It’s not a bad thing if Delta wants to take some time today,” Wash told him.

Church snorted. “I promised, David. Today was going to be me.” He looked at Wash and smiled a brittle, bitter thing. “Even if I hate all this snow and—and celebration stuff.”

Wash tightened his grip for a moment, and then pulled his hand back. “Tucker should be back in about thirty. How about you rest in here while I finish the decorations? Drink your hot chocolate and destress a little.”

Church hummed and mumbled a faint, “Alright.”

“—marks the fifth year since Doctor Leonard Church’s indictment on unethical medical practices and war crimes. With me I have Daniel ‘New York’ West—”

“Sweet baby Jesus,” Tucker mumbled and clicked off the radio with an explosive sigh. “What the fuck is Carolina thinking letting York out to talk on a day like this?” With a groan Tucker scrubbed his hand through his hair and tapped on the wheel of the car in agitation. He didn’t want to hear about the sordid mess all over again in regards to the Church patriarch. He lived with the fallout of that long enough.

The airport around him bustled in the sudden silence of the radio. He could hear the cars honking off in the distance and snowflakes fluttered down from the sky to create hazards to drive in. Only the truly desperate or insane actually took to the streets in a time like this, with the blizzard projected to come tearing into the city. Tucker found himself in both categories today as he practically vibrated with anticipation from his little parked space at the edge of the lot.

“C’mon, kid, where are you,” Tucker mumbled and checked the time. According to the flight records the plane had definitely landed about fifteen minutes ago, so he should already be outside the airport if all things were to go well. “Shitballs I don’t have the strength to deal with a fuck up,” Tucker groaned, and hoped—prayed—that nothing had gone wrong with the airport staff. Tucker scanned the outside of the airport again, gaze intense.

The knock against his driverside window startled him into a shrieked course as Tucker whirled around and stared up at the officer who peered at the vehicle.

“Sir,” the officer said, “you are parked in a handicapped lane. I need to ask you to move.”

Tucker stared, a little uncomprehendingly, and then pushed the button to roll down the window. “Hey, officer, sorry there I didn’t quite catch that?”

The officer sighed, and Tucker got the feeling he’d been dealing with a lot of shit today. Too bad, Tucker had a lot of shit to deal with today on his own plate too. The biggest issue right now of course was the fact that junior had not come out of the airport yet.

“I said this is a handicapped space. I need you to move,” the officer said, and Tucker bit back the urge to be a sarcastic shit and tsk and play the ‘aw shucks’ routine. He would like to avoid getting arrested or worse today, thank you very much.

Instead Tucker gestured to the very clear handicap designation attached to his rearview mirror and said plainly, “I have a handicap voucher right here. What’s the problem?”

The officer pressed his lips together and then said carefully, “Sir, I need you to move.”

“Is it ‘cuz I’m black?” Tucker said, and then sighed explosively. “You know what, never-mind. Look, I’m waiting for my five-year-old kid—a kid who is autistic. Your staff are supposed to be bringin’ him out here since I can’t easily get in there in this weather. I called ahead and everything to make sure.”

The officer, Tucker noted, ground his teeth and repeated, “Sir I—” only to be interrupted by an out of breath voice that said Tucker’s name. Tucker tilted his head to look around the officer and noted the TSA Agent that looked to have run up behind him, around the car, and nearly slipped on a patch of black ice. Tucker noted the spot down as the Agent slid into place for when he had to pull out of his spot.

“Are—whoo—are you Lavernius Tucker?”

Tucker breathed a sigh of relief as he said, “Hell yeah. Where’s my kid?” and completely ignored the officer who tensed from the sudden intrusion.

“We—fuck it’s cold—we need you to come inside afff—argh!” the TSA agent slipped again but righted themselves and continued, “After I see some ID. Kids—well he’s a little stressed.”

Tucker blinked, and then cursed and began to dig out his wallet from his pants pocket. “Of course, shit—he just flew from across the sea goddammit why didn’t I think—here—” Tucker dug out his ID and handed it over without a thought, hand already going to draw the window back up and open the door when the officer stepped in again.

Tucker ground his teeth. Fuck this man.

“Ali, I told this man that he needs to move his car. We need the space.”

‘Ali’ looked at the officer surprised, and then glanced to the handicap mark in the car and said, “Thom. He’s got a handicap marker. It’s all good.” They then handed back the ID for Tucker to stick back into his wallet, which he did before he tugged his keys out of the ignition and rolled up the window. The next bit of the words between the officer and the TSA agent Tucker missed as he focused on making sure he had everything before he opened his car door.

By the time Tucker got the door open and worked on getting his bad leg out of the car, the officer had already stormed off. Ali offered a hand for balance, which Tucker took with a muttered, “Thanks, man.”

“No problem,” Ali said. “Sorry about Thom. He’s a bit stressed.”

Tucker snorted. “Aren’t we all?”

“Yeah. Let’s go get your kid.”

Church woke to a loud, “We’re home!” and jerked up from the kitchen table that he’d fallen asleep at. In his hands was the mug of hot chocolate David gave him, already gone cold. His brain took a moment to return to working condition, a slow sort of boot as he tried to blink away the sleep. At least he hoped it was sleep—missing time always worried him, and Church could never be sure he’d actually been asleep or if he’d just not been here.

“Welcome back,” David said, voice pitched low enough that Church had to strain to hear it. “Church fell asleep at the table.”

Oh, good, he had been asleep. Church breathed a sigh of relief and pushed the chair back as quiet as he could, blanket still wrapped around his shoulders as he picked up the now cold mug of hot chocolate and brought it to the sink.

“Shit, really?” that voice belonged to Tucker, and Church thought he heard a fainter voice, unintelligible, that meant Junior had arrived safe and sound. “Fuck, he didn’t wear himself out doing all of this, did he?”

David chuckled and said, “He wanted it to be perfect for our new arrival.” Church set the mug into the sink and started the trek back toward the living room. “Hi, Junior. I’m Wash. It’s nice to meet you.”

From the doorway Church could see David crouched down enough to be at Junior’s height—the little monster had grown since the last time Church got a chance to look at him, back when he’d been nothing but a squealing toddler and Tucker a terrified mess as he stayed stuck in the room with that bitch who birthed the creature. He was practically half Tucker’s height, which wasn’t hard really since Tucker was a short ass in reality, even if his personality often made him bigger than he was.

Tucker had one hand on Junior’s shoulder, a light grounding touch. Church knew the motion because Tucker used it with him some days, just like Charmaine back when they were kids before she became known as ‘Carolina’. Junior seemed to appreciate the slight pressure as he gave a wide-toothy sort of grin in response, but shyly waved at David.

“’M ‘vernius ‘ucker,” Junior said, words half mumbled and some of them outright lost around a mouth that probably didn’t always know how to shape them the right way around. Church huffed from the doorway to catch attention, and watched how Junior seemed for a moment to startle, and then light up like Christmas had come a second time this year.

“’Nuncle Church!” Junior squealed, and then in a burst of surprising speed latched himself around Church’s middle.

“Hey, monster,” Church greeted, one hand settled into the black curls on Junior’s head. “Long trip?”

Junior squealed instead of using his words and Church made an appreciative noise in response. He looked up at Tucker who looked back at him, relieved, and then gestured to all the decorations around the house.

“Really, man?” Tucker said—and Church looked everything over with a keen eye.

The living room was decked out in balloons and streamers and hung up signs that said things like ‘It’s a Boy!’ or ‘Congrats! You’re A Dad!’ and one lone ‘Welcome Home!’ off in a corner. Church snorted and looked down to Junior.

“You like ‘em?” Church asked, and Junior nodded into his middle. Church shot Tucker a smug look. “Yeah, fucktard, really.”

“Ass,” Tucker replied fondly and flopped down into the couch. “C’mon, bring my kid over here so we can have a proper cuddle pile.”

David looked on and shook his head, even as he flopped down beside Tucker and made a gesture for Church to join them. Church glanced down at Junior and said, “Whaddya say, monster? Cuddle pile with your dad and not-dad?”

“Mm!” Junior grinned up at him and Church corralled the kid over to the group couch. He flopped himself down across Tucker and David, and then grunted when Junior climbed up onto his stomach.

“Serves you right,” Tucker mumbled. “Jewish-dad.”

“Best-dad!” Junior squealed, and then squinted up at David who had never met the monster—and Church pitied the man just a little bit, because he had no idea what he was getting into with this. “Not-dad?”

“Awesome-dad,” Tucker corrected, “’cuz Wash is awesome.”

“Rude,” Church countered. “Aren’t I awesome?”

“Nah, your plain Church. Hadn’t you heard? Obviously I traded you in for the more rugged model,” Tucker teased and Church pouted.

“Rugged?” David questioned, and Church realized he hadn’t heard Tucker call him rugged yet—they’d kept that one to themselves in small gigglefests over the growing beard on David’s face. It really did make him look older, more rugged and worn but not less handsome. Church found he rather liked it—Tucker said it itched.

“Dude, you grew a beard,” Tucker said.

Church patted David on the knee and told him, “I like the beard,” even as David looked so despondent at being called rugged because of his beard.

Junior gasped in their collective laps, as if he just noticed the beard which was entirely possible. Church knew how much it oftentimes hurt the kid to just look at people. His wide-eyed awe, though, that made Church smile just the little bit as he watched Junior reach up and touch the beard.

“Santa,” Junior said, and Church burst out laughing.

#red vs blue #rvb #rvbsecretsanta19 #lavernius tucker #leonard church #alpha #agent washington #wash #junior #redvsbluesecretsanta #demi-dufresne #fanfic #fic: and a happy new year #family feels #sorry its late #fic: gift fic

9 notes · View notes

pandemicthestory · 4 years

Text

4: tethered

The game has a name.

The game is called Universe. And it matches the map.

Thanks Iz.

Emma sits at her desk, mainlining espresso to the bloodstream, and readying herself to do a deep dive on the internet. Since the beginning of high school, this is how she’s spent many nights--high on caffeine, slouched over her computer, and ravaging the internet for information. Except historically she hadn’t been looking for a faceless man, but researching for the essays of her classmates.

At up to $300 a paper, Emma had been cleaning up and saving up for two years. Saving for a new life with Julian, away from the family that seemed to have a problem with everything she did. Once she was gone, they could finally turn her bedroom into a gym, or an opium den, really the possibilities were endless.

Emma has nearly $20,000 in a bank account that no one knows about. No one except Julian. And this means she has almost reached her goal, and that they can finally leave. Get a car, drive somewhere south where it’s warm. Or maybe somewhere north where it’s Canada. They haven’t actually figured that part out yet, but once they get the car, the rest will fall into place. That’s what he’s assured her. And she has chosen to believe him.

Emma is the kind of best friend who lies. She’s not proud of it, but it’s true. And she feels like she has no other choice. Zoe, Olivia, Madison...they might as well be her sisters. They understand her more clearly than her own sister does. The four of them were connected by the holiest of ways: playing tetherball at recess in first grade.

In 2020, they had grown into a grungey aspiring comic book creator (Madison), soup-kitchen volunteering empath (Olivia), Harvard-bound jailbait (Zoe), and criminal internet troll (Emma)...but before this, they were four little girls who had one important thing in common: hitting a ball that was tied to a poll. Every day, they’d wait in line together. Madison would always get there first (back then she played soccer and no one could outrun her), and she would “save a spot” for Zoe, who was the most talented player at the time, and her key rival. Olivia, given her sense of morality, would often be called upon to referee any suspicious moves. Wasn’t it remarkable that a sport (that wasn’t even a real sport) could form a sisterhood?

Sisters. Sisters were supposed to know everything about you. But Emma had chosen not tell them about her illegal business. How could they ever understand? All of them with their aspirations and goals, wouldn’t they look at her differently if they knew hers was...money? And a future that in all likelihood would not involve them? That thought was something that caused her a lot of pain and guilt, and one that she made a mental note to talk to Julian about. They hadn’t settled on the terms of their new life together, but they knew that it would have to be a secret from anyone. Otherwise they would be caught and returned. Emma was hoping she could find a way to not cut off her sisters. That he would understand.

*crack*

Emma is startled by her bedroom window opening. Julian has this way of popping up whenever she’s thinking about him. Which happens to be often.

“Dude, can you please text me before you’re gonna come over? Aghh you’re all wet!”

Julian playfully shakes his hair like a dog.

“It’s raining,” he smiles.

“No it’s not. I can see out the window.”

“But wouldn’t that be so romantic if I climbed up the side of your house and snuck into your window through the rain?”

“You know, it would, but you didn’t.”

Julian sighs, giving Emma the look that means, “ok stop being an asshole and act like you love me.”

“Alright I just showered. Look, I brought you flowers.”

“You brought me one flower, and it’s a dandelion from my front yard.” Emma cracks a smile, despite herself.

Julian groans and throws himself down on her bed.

“Ok, so am I gonna just lay here by myself? You punishing me for something I don’t even know that I did?”

He smiles at her in that “you can’t say no to this smile” type of way. Emma concedes and flops down next to him. He wraps his body around hers, holding her tight. It makes her feel both safe and like she couldn’t get away if she wanted to. Julian is tall and lean, but strong. He has curly hair that always flops in front of his face, and his eyes are dark and wide. He smells like the shower, so that wasn’t a lie. He kisses her neck. She sighs.

“I missed you.” She says softly. Because she really, really did.

“I had to go away for a while, to make sure I had my half. And it...took longer than I thought it would.”

Emma sits up. “But you have it?”

He smiles and nods. “What about you, Em?”

Emma gazes off distantly. She’s basically there. If this virus bullshit hadn’t gotten in the way, she would have passed her goal in three weeks, tops. But now…

“I don’t have all of it. Since there’s no school, I’m not sure how I can...but I’m really close.” Emma braces herself for him to be mad, but he isn’t.

“That’s ok, babe.”

“It is...?”

“Yeah, we have more than we need. I said 40 because having some extra doesn’t hurt. But we’ll be ok. And we can leave tonight.”

Emma half chokes, half laughs. “Tonight? Are you insane? I already know the answer to that.”

“Well why not?”

“Um, I mean there’s things I have to do before we go, Julian...lots of stuff actually, I mean I need to pack, square away my accounts, and say goodbye to Isabel, and…”

“Then how bout tomorrow?”

Julian has a bit of a manic look in his eye, like he hasn’t slept in days, like he’s been doing something he shouldn’t. Emma takes a deep breath, she doesn’t want to know.

“Give me, um, one week. Ok?”

Was that a flash of anger that just crossed Julian’s face? It couldn’t be. Those days are past. Julian hides anything that might have been, then just pouts dramatically and nods.

“One week.”

Emma lays back down with him and they begin to make out. Is one week enough time to sort everything out? To figure out Universe? To find Mason?

“You haven’t even re-asked me to be your girlfriend yet…” she murmurs. He hushes her.

They continue to kiss, as Emma’s anxiety grows. Julian’s hand begins to slide under her shirt, but she stops him. Abruptly.

“Julian, I want to tell my friends that we’re leaving.”

He sits up next to her, immediately serious.

“You know we can’t, Emma.”

Emma slumps forward. “Am I really just going to disappear without telling them where I’m going?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what you’re going to do. Anyone who knows what we’re doing is a potential threat to us being discovered. Honestly, what is the point of running away if you’re pretty sure that you’re going to get caught?”

“But Julian, they’re like my sisters. It isn’t right. They’ll worry.”

But worse than worry about her, they could forget her. They could close their little circle and be ok with just three sisters. They could be just fine without her. And that is, strangely, the worst fate that Emma can imagine.

“Emma, no. And I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

He gets off the bed and straightens his clothing. He puts his shoes on.

“Where are you going?”

Julian flashes her a look. This time, the anger lingers.

“There is a fucking virus that’s going to kill half this country. Right now, people are quarantining because they agree to it. But what happens when there are cops in the streets, saying they’ll shoot us if we even leave our houses? What happens when there’s no food left? I’m getting out of here before it gets that bad, because I want to be in control of what happens to me. If you wanna come with, great. If not, don’t waste my time.”

And with that, he has disappeared back out the window from which he came.

Emma tries to catch her breath. She’s not going to cry over him tonight. No. Absolutely not. This is the right thing to do. He’s going to save her. They’re going to save each other. He loves her. He loves her.

*buzz*

Her phone lights up on her desk. The group chat.

Emma rubs her face and examines her phone.

OLIVIA: does anyone wanna watch a movie? Netflix does this party mode thing now where you can watch stuff with other people

ZOE: i was just thinking about how i’ve never seen gossip girl. Binge?

MADISON: if we watch something less cringey I’m in. back me up Em?

But Emma can’t respond. And now, is when she begins to cry.

Because they don’t know so many things. And they wouldn’t forgive her if they did.

The last time Julian was her boyfriend, he cheated on her with someone Isabel’s age. And when Emma found out (through an unforgettable fight with Isabel), she confronted Julian immediately. Surprisingly, he made himself the victim, claiming that Emma hadn’t been a loving enough girlfriend, and that he was desperate for attention. He made her feel like she wasn’t enough, something she already struggled with, and something that she has carried with ever since.

So after he started texting her again six months ago, she told the first lie to her friends. A lie of omission, really, as she just didn’t tell them about him at all. And then came the next lie, when Emma opened up her anonymous writing service to her schoolmates. Everyone knew about the sophomore ghostwriter, but no one knew it was Emma Bradford.

Except Julian. And this knowledge is something that he has over her, but that she is 100% sure he would never use against her. Because he isn’t like that anymore. He wouldn’t hurt her again.

Whether Emma is able to look herself in the mirror and make the judgment or not, she’s smart. Technically, brilliant. It’s always been easy for her to label Zoe as “the smart one,” unable to recognize her own intelligence. But Emma built her own PC when she was 12 years old. She learned Python when she was 13. She wrote her own research program that combs sources for students’ papers, allowing her to have an incredible turnaround rate. While Zoe might be the star of AP Biology, Emma’s intellectual strengths just haven’t been required of her yet. So she can’t see their worth.

Emma sits down at her laptop.

Universe.

After a quick Google search, she is able to find it rather easily. Although, the game is from 1983? This can’t be right...the graphics she saw over Isabel’s shoulder looked modern. But then again, she didn’t get a good look.

After Emma is unable to find any other Universe games, she decides to download this one. As she starts the download, she sees that the game takes up an absurd amount of memory--about 20x that of a normal game. Very weird. Luckily, Emma has a spare external hard drive that she can download the game onto. Huh. What the hell can possibly be taking up so much space?

The computer determines that the download will be completed in 24 hours.

What?! Truly unheard of. Ok then, well, seemingly she pounded all this coffee for nothing. Nothing to do but, wait.

*ping*

A new message to her ghostwriter account. Mason. Her heart skips a beat.

MASON: Don’t worry, the time will go quickly

And now her pulse begins to quicken. So this means that she’s right. The map is leading to Universe. Or rather, the map is Universe.

EMMA: are you watching me?? seriously wtf

MASON: No matter what I say, you won’t believe me.

EMMA: ok well… i just ingested enough caffeine to give myself a heart attack, and now i’m gonna be up all night. will you at least talk to me?

A long pause. Emma knows this is weirdly forward but hey, it’s been a crazy night. So why not.

But then, he’s typing?

MASON: what do you want to talk about?

Pause.

Randomly, shockingly, in this moment, Emma decides to be honest. Which is something she hasn’t done in a long time. To this person who can’t possibly judge her.

EMMA: I have three best friends, and I really miss them. I miss being close to them. Seeing their faces in person, and telling them the truth.

EMMA: Too much?

MASON: maybe you should tell them how much you miss them

EMMA: I’m scared to. I don’t know what will happen if...well there’s a lot they don’t know. And I’m scared if I tell them, they won’t look at me the same. And nothing will be the same. And then I’ll be gone, and no one will miss me

MASON: It sounds like in some ways you’re already gone, and i bet they miss you too

Emma sharply exhales. She sits back in her chair. She isn’t use to being read like that, especially by someone who’s never met her.

She doesn’t want to be gone.

She picks up her phone, and opens the group chat.

As she begins to craft the message that will open the door to an explanation, she stops herself. Deletes what’s been written.

EMMA: i’m down to watch gossip girl

ZOE: Yesssss queen

MADISON: traitor

She can’t tell them. Not tonight. But it’s possible that somehow she might. And she has one week to figure it out.

Back when recesses were spent playing tetherball, Madison would challenge, Zoe would defend, Olivia would judge.

And Emma, oddly enough, would watch. She would sit on the sidelines while most of the girls in her grade lined up to face the defending champion and she would admire it was so easy for all of these girls to play together, to be instant friends. She wondered if she would ever have that.

* * *

In a different room, far away:

A boy sits at his computer. He thinks that the neurotic compassion one girl has for her friends is shocking and intriguing.

He stares at the sky, wondering if she might be doing the same.

#writers on tumblr #writers #writer #write #writing #my writing #excerpt from a story i'll never write #pandemic

2 notes · View notes

btsybrkr · 4 years

Text

What A Time To Be At Home!: The Best And Worst Coronacontent The Internet Has To Offer

Remember that joke that’s been around for ages, but was being told literally everywhere back in 2019? The one that went something like, “I hate it when people ask me where I’ll be in a year’s time - I don’t have 2020 vision!”?

Well, I bloody wish someone did.

In fact, in early January, I wrote out my own predictions for the decade ahead right here on my blog. They were obviously entirely hypothetical and - I thought - ridiculous. They were just a series of daft ideas that I thought I could take the piss out of, in the hope that people might read it and take a second out of their day to do an amused little nose exhale for me. But now, even the post-apocalyptic TV show ideas I pitched in that piece seem less ‘far-off dystopian chaos’, and more like they could be pleasant additions to the BBC Summer schedule.

The world is in the throes of a global pandemic, the likes of which haven’t been seen since… I don’t know, The Black Plague, maybe? As a result of that, the instructions have been clear: stay home, save lives.

At first, the thought of being given a period of Government-sanctioned laziness seemed like a dream to many. We could write our autobiographies! Learn Klingon! Build ourselves a whole new house! But six weeks in, it appears to have started messing with the collective consciousness of the human race. Brains are fried, your Weekly Screen Time is up 103%, stomachs are full to the brim with banana bread and dalgona coffee, and certain celebrities’ egos are in a fight to the death with their common sense. In a time when we’re all supposedly doing nothing, there’s still so much going on.

With that in mind, I thought we could recognise some of the things we’ve seen online that have kept us talking in lockdown, not just because of Coronavirus, but in spite of it.

Welcome to the first (but hopefully not annual) What A Time To Be At Home! awards. The WATTBAH!’s, if you like.

The ‘Why On Earth Did You Think This Was A Good Idea?’ Award

Over the last few weeks, we’ve seen a sizable handful of blunders by the rich and famous that have, at worst, knocked them down a fair few places in our estimations and, at best, have left us scratching our heads, wondering what response they were expecting in the first place.

With that in mind, it’s only right that this title goes to the original celebrity lockdown mistake: Gal Gadot’s ill-advised acapella cover of Imagine, featuring a variety of different Hollywood stars - not one of whom had the foresight to ask “are you sure this doesn’t make us look like complete arseholes?”, which, unfortunately, it absolutely does.

youtube

Between the bizarre and insincere ‘I have a dream’-style speech at the beginning, the boldness of some of those featured to be quite clearly just taking the piss, and the fact everyone appears to be singing ever-so-slightly below the note without ever actually hitting it for the entirety of the song, this was tone-deaf in more ways than one. It’s even worse when you realise that this was posted less than one week into the lockdown, but then what would I know? Maybe madness sets in faster in multi-million dollar mansions. Probably because it echoes louder and bounces off the walls of your massive living room.

The ‘I Had To Suffer Through This, So You Do, Too’ Award

This award recognises content we’ve been witness to over the last few weeks that was so awful, so completely uncomfortable to watch, that after you’d gotten over the initial disbelief at what you’d just seen, you immediately had to send it to somebody you know, so that you can suffer through it together.

Despite how many celebrity lockdown moments have left me with my head in my hands over the last few weeks, this award could only go to a very recent contender - one which isn’t simply an embarrassing piece of celebrity lockdown content, but will likely haunt the inner corners of my brain long after this virus is simply a topic taught about in GCSE History lessons of the future.

I am, of course, talking about Olly Murs. I’m talking about Pringlegate. I’m talking about Olly Murs removing the bottom of a can of Sour Cream and Onion Pringles to trick his own girlfriend into touching his penis. On video, on TikTok.

Twitter: @buckyw1ng

There’s something inherently quite chilling about Pringlegate. It might be something to do with the 10,000 watt grin on Olly’s face as we watch him carefully maneuver a tin opener around the bottom of the can, or perhaps it’s just the question of how long he’d been sat there holding it around his naked penis as he and his girlfriend watched a film, patiently waiting for the moment to strike. Perhaps it’s the way the video freezes as she reaches over for a Pringle, allowing time for Olly Murs’ to add in an audio clip of himself, shouting “SAY HELLO TO MY LITTLE FRIEND”.

Maybe it’s the uncontrollable show of amusement he launches into as she snatches her hand back in shock, laughing away, heartily, as if to say “Ha! You thought it was a normal can of Pringles, but it was actually my PENIS covered in Pringles crumbs! You just got PUNKED!”, like it was all simply a clever ruse.

Above all else, I think the most uncomfortable thing about it is that I can’t help but feel like all bets are off in 2020, and that this is a fairly tame warm-up for things to come.

So, Olly Murs, you are inarguably the rightful winner of the ‘I Had To Suffer Through This, So You Do, Too’ award. Congratulations! Don’t do it again, yeah?

The ‘Are You Actually Aware Of These Words Coming Out Of Your Mouth?’ Award

I’ve said some stupid things since this lockdown started. Personally, I put it down to the lack of social interaction, which I think might be frying my brain a little bit, or at least that’s what the ornament of a turkey that sits on my kitchen windowsill told me the other day. However, I don’t think I or anybody I know has said anything even one fraction-of-an-iota as void of intelligent thought as Vanessa Hudgens’ terrible opinions on social distancing, shared in a now-infamous Instagram live last month.

youtube

“It’s a virus,” she clarified, helpfully, before going on to explain, “I get it. I respect it.”

I’m sure your respect means the world to it, Vanessa, but do you ‘get’ it?

“But even if everybody gets it, like… yeah… people are gonna die,” she explains, in a tone so chirpy that the word ‘die’ might as well be replaced by the phrase ‘have such a bloody lovely old time’, “which is terrible, but, like… inevitable?”

In all fairness, death is inevitable, but I don’t know if suggesting speeding up that process for thousands of people because you were disappointed that Coachella was cancelled is an equally logical take.

After a brief - and probably quite profound - moment of self-reflection, she laughs “I don’t know, maybe I shouldn’t be doing this right now”. Oh, you think? Which bit? Just holding these insane ideas, or actually broadcasting them to your 39.1 million Instagram followers?

She did post a video the day after, clarifying that - despite what she said - she is staying at home, and is urging others to do the same. I guess she does respect the virus after all. Now, if everyone could hurry up, catch it and die from it, so that she can go to Coachella 2021, Vanessa Hudgens might respect you, too.

I guess We’re All In This Together, after all.

The Show Of Support Award

I’ve already talked a lot about the rich and famous here, so maybe it’s time to take a break from that madness - although, I get it, I respect it - and have a look at how the rest of our lives look at the moment.

One weekly occurrence that seems to be set to stick around is the weekly round of applause for the NHS. Whilst it’s nothing short of blood-boilingly annoying seeing Boris Johnson absent-mindedly clapping in celebration of a service that he recently admitted he hadn’t even noticed the strain on until he, himself, nearly died of the virus, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with the rest of us getting involved. If anything, it’s heart-warming to see the videos of NHS staff being applauded by neighbours as they leave for work, and to hear the cheers echoing through the streets at 8pm every Thursday. There’s a lot of people being quite cynical about it. We obviously know it’s not going to stop Coronavirus in its tracks, but sometimes it’s just nice to be nice, alright?

One thing I’ve noticed recently is how many people have adopted different noise-making strategies, possibly in an effort to effectively boost their support by a factor of 300%. Banging pots and pans together appears to be the most popular, but the winner of this award saw your pots and pans and said “how sweet”, before showing us how it’s really done.

I present to you, a genius. The ultimate hype-man.

Twitter: “a deeply disturbed national psyche” - @willuminare

There’s something so chaotic and angry about the energy in this video, just one man, a cricket bat, and a wheelie bin, banging away to show his gratitude. Just living in the moment. I wish the neighbour who’d captured it on camera had caught more of it, or at least just enough to edit the footage with Electric Youth’s soaring synth anthem ‘A Real Hero’ from the soundtrack of the movie Drive against it.

I’ve been trying to learn to play the keytar in lockdown, to near enough no avail. Maybe at 8pm next Thursday, I’ll just take it outside and smash it against the pavement. You know, for the NHS.

Honourable Mentions: The Very Best In Coronacontent

It’s not all been so questionable - there’s been a lot of uplifting, funny, positive and thoughtful things shared online over the past few weeks. John Krasinski’s YouTube series Some Good News has provided a much-appreciated contrast from the bleakness of traditional current affairs programmes. There’s five weeks worth of episodes on his YouTube channel at the moment, so I would definitely recommend checking it out, especially if you feel like you need a lift!

youtube

Over on Twitter, there’s been a lot to laugh about, as ‘front camera comedians’ are well and truly in their element (my personal favourite recently has been Alistair Green), as well as plenty of other users who are utilising their free time to create some brilliant stuff - this six-part opera based on a 2007 Facebook argument by Archie Henderson is genuinely one of the funniest things I’ve seen in weeks.

Twitter: “I made a six-act opera out of a conversation between some 14 year olds on my Facebook from 2007″ - @jazzemu_

All in all, these are obviously bizarre times that we’re living in. We don’t know how many more weeks of lockdown we’re going to have, when we’ll get back to normal, or even if ‘normal’ will mean something completely different from now on.

What we do know is that the internet, and everyone on it - whoever they are or whatever they’re saying - will continue to surprise us, inform us, entertain us, provide a place for our quizzes and conversations, and keep us together in some sense, when we have no choice but to be apart.

Thanks to anyone who’s read this far. I hope that you and your friends and families are keeping well, and that you took even a slight shred of lockdown enjoyment from even one thing I’ve said over the past couple thousand words!

Finally, before I go, I thought we might share a little song. It goes like this:

Imagine there’s no heaven....

if you like, can follow me on twitter here or instagram here :-)

1 note · View note

surveys-at-your-service · 5 years

Text

Survey #219

“make a move and you pay for it; pick a lord and you pray to it.”

Do you actually love your grandpa? I don't really remember either of mine. I do from what I remember and have learned of them, though. Do you actually love your grandma? I don't remember my dad's mom at all, but I mean, I love her simply for being my dad's mother, who loved her. My mom's mom, yeah, even though she's. Hard to like a lot of the time. Do you have Facebook? Yes. What was the last thing you posted on someone’s wall? A birthday post. Do you have MySpace? My old one still exists, but I sure haven't been on it since it was current. What is your favorite kind of music? Heavy metal. Favorite soft drink? Mountain Dew Voltage is actually cocaine to me rip. Favorite food? Probably like... pepperoni pizza or cheeseburgers. I'm a full-blooded 'Merican. Have you ever felt replaced? OH, HAVE I! Have you ever worn false eyelashes? No. Do you ever regret making a friend? I don't think so. Can you cure mental illness? I don't know about cure, but you can certainly learn how to handle it better and alleviate symptoms. Is God good? Define "God." Cats or dogs? Kitties. Do you play video games? Yeah, but I don't play nearly the variety that I used to. Do you take medication for mental health? Yes. Can you really be racist to a white person? No shit? Do you have a favorite hair accessory? What does it look like? No. What’s your favorite type of insect? Butterflies. What’s your LEAST favorite type of insect? Larvae, like maggots. Disgusting. Who was the last person you Facebook messaged? What did you say? What’s his/her favorite food? Idk and I don't feel like checking. I rarely use it. What was the last song you listened to? Does it mean anything to you? "Thoughts & Prayers" by Motionless In White is a mood with my mad-at-God-24/7 ass. It needs to stop honestly. I've become so hateful about religion. Not towards followers, mind you, just the concept itself. I could write a novel on this, but I don't feel like it. Just me and organized religion don't get along anymore. Have you ever slept in a water bed? On a water mattress, yeah. How do you feel about having sex during your menstrual period? Never tried, not for me. Sounds messy. Does your ex have a job? My most recent, I guess you mean? Yeah. Have you ever slept in a car? Yeah, on long drives to like New York and stuff. What was the last term of endearment you used (babe, hun, dear, etc)? *checks phone* "Sweetie." How often do you use Flickr? Never. I can't log into my account anymore since Yahoo said "fuck u Britt," so there's no point. Have you ever been on a blind date? No. Do you have a crush on the last person you texted? She's my girlfriend so y'know like- Have you ever got into an argument with the last person you kissed? We very much disliked each other at first, so... guess, lmao. Have you ever liked somebody who was nice to you, but horrible to everyone else? Eh, that's a mystery... Juan was very sweet to me, but I know he had a bad rep. I didn't really see how he interacted with others. How’s your appetite atm? It's normal. I'm not currently hungry. Out of all the conversations you’ve had recently, which one has made you smile or laugh the most? Sara randomly and excitedly texted me to tell me "Welcome to the Jungle" was on at work, which was on the radio both when I was there and she was here, so she thought of how much she missed me lakdjsfkalwe I smiled my face in half. Do you look decent in your most recent photograph? Eh, it wasn't awful. It was for my school ID. What is one vacation destination that many people think is just fabulous but which you personally have no desire to visit (or revisit)? New York City. My sis went and said it was 1.) insane and 2.) disgusting. If you were five years younger but knew everything at that age that you’ve actually learned over the last five years, what is one thing you would definitely do differently? Go to the partial hospitalization program way sooner. What serves as the greatest motivation for you in your daily life? To earn a happy, content future. What activity that you have to do every once in a while that you dread the most? "Every once in a while," I'd say clean Mitsu's cage. She is such a strange rat. Enjoys pets, but being picked up is a no sir. When people hear what you do for a living, what is the most typical question or comment they give you regarding your job? N/A If you were left alone for one hour with nothing more than a pen and a notepad, what would you be inclined to draw or write during those 60 minutes? I'd probably write a poem. I know I wouldn't draw 'cuz fuck no am I doing so with a pen. If you could witness anything at all in super-slow motion, what would you want to see? Uhhh. Idk. Anything I can think of, like lightning, I've seen because of the Internet. If someone were looking for you in a bookstore, in what section would they be most likely to find you? Probably like, young adult fiction/fantasy, something like that. What do you forget to do more often than anything else? Lately, take one of my mood stabilizers. I need to get the box out... aaaand forget every day. I haven't felt any different without it tho so like... If you could teach everyone in the world one skill, what would it be? Compassion, maybe. You’ve been offered the chance to paint a billboard along a highway with any message you choose, as long as it’s only 10 words long. What is your message? I'm not spending time musing over something that serious lakaljdsfawe. Would you ever travel to Africa? Hell yes. I desperately want to go to South Africa on the Tswalu Kalahari tour. Whose house were you last at? Besides my own, my older sister's. Have you ever had a near-death experience? I guess this depends on how near death you mean. I've been in one car accident that my mom managed to make minor only by being a good driver; realistically, we should've flipped, according to the cop. My mom just acted quickly enough. Then I heavily ODed, but I was given more than enough fluids in time to keep me surprisingly okay. I don't know what would've happened if I hadn't told Mom so quickly, and I don't care to think about it. I'm fucking lucky and don't want to think about what could've happened. Have you ever met anyone who was overly addicted to a computer game? Tbh I myself could've been in this position when my depression was so bad, but then there's factors to that that lean towards it just having been a preference versus addiction. Idk. It's not a problem anymore so not worth debating over. Have you ever been fingered? That was the first cheat when you chose abstinence lmao. What do you do the most when you are online? Watch or listen to something on YouTube. What video game have you played the most? So in WoW you can actually type in /played to see how long you've played JUST that one character up to the years (or maybe days?) down to seconds and. I will never type it in lmao. Ongoing games are v depressing. Do you have scars you don’t like to talk about? No, those are thankfully gone. What is something you and your significant other do that may seem weird to others? Be helplessly and openly in love with imaginary demons while dating each other lmao (she's a Freeza fanatic). When and why did you last cry? The second day of school because of math class. When was the last time you drank? I think like... back on the 4th of July. Or some days after 'cuz I know Mom and I didn't finish the container in one night. Do you wear jewelry a lot? Just my piercings, really. Save for on my ear lobes because the holes on the left are fucked up, yay. I'm going to wind up just slightly stretching the first holes when I can afford a small kit; actual studs or hoops look stupid. Never wanted gauges until the holes got too stretched by the weight of hoops; now something needs to be there. Who in your household do you not have a good relationship with? My sister's (who doesn't even live here...) dog Bentley. I hate him and he doesn't like me. No, that doesn't mean I mistreat a pet. He's just a pain in the goddamn ass. Who in your life are you scared to lose more than anything? My mom. I don't know what would happen to me or how I'd cope at this time. Honestly, would you rather be single or in a relationship? I'm happier in a healthy relationship. Do any of your friends not get along at all? No. I mean, not that I know of. What are your 3 favorite internet sites? I'd be LOST without YouTube, then KM follows up close. #3, uh... Facebook or Tumblr, I suppose. Have you ever gotten anything autographed, if so by who & what was it? No. Well, I do have a little book of Disney World character autographs, but I don't think that really counts. Do you prefer Walmart or Target? We use Wal-mart. Who is your favorite model? Sara is a gd model don't even @ me about it. What have you done that is out of character for you? The Joel thing is the most anti-Brittany thing I've ever done for sure. I can't think of anything more current that stands out, unless it's- NO WAIT, this was quite a few months ago, but I firmly stood against an opinion my psychiatrist made known. He's very talkative and open as hell about his beliefs in current events, and he said something about pit bulls where I was just like... um no sir. I wasn't going to be rude though to HIM of all people so just said I don't base dogs by their breed and shut up. Awkward silence and we moved on. What do you feel strong enough to protest about? LGBT acceptance and rights. I already protest by having given up Chic-fil-a okay I care y'all. What’s the biggest blooper you’ve never lived down? Who knows... What is the best thing you have done just because you were told you can’t? Idk. I'm lucky to not have really been told that... What are you most thankful for? Thinking it all over, probably being born where I am. Boy is America FUCKED UP in some places, but boy would I be in a MUCH worse place if I was born in, say, North Korea, between my mental issues, sexuality, and opinions that can go to either end of the spectrum. How do you feel about thrift shops or flea markets? I love them! You can find the coolest, wackiest shit. What do you like to put gravy on? I hate gravy with a passion. Have you ever gone canoeing/kayaking? No. What one thing in particular makes you feel good about yourself? I genuinely think I'm a nice person that has other's well-being in mind. What is priceless to you? Love, in any form. What is one thing you know about your family history you’re proud of? Uhhh. I guess more than anything, I'm proud of my distant cousin for her unwavering love for and loyalty to her daughter when it came to escaping the Middle East and her dictatorial husband. Read Not Without My Daughter, it's great. Do you keep a budget? I don't have an income. What makes you feel rested and refreshed? Rested, a good night's sleep following being truly exhausted. Refreshed, oh man, gimme a hot, long shower. Who depends on you the most? Nobody. Could you ever be someone’s bodyguard? Hell no. Has one of your biggest fears come true? Yes. I was entirely convinced the world would literally end if Jason left. That night still doesn't feel real. Have you ever let your mom or significant other fight a battle for you? Colleen and Mom once fought after I'd ignored her, so I guess? It wasn't my wish or anything though for her to do it; Mom had shit to say by her own volition, and I wasn't going to tell my mother "no you can't do that." Did you create a checklist for your ideal spouse? No? Have you ever ridden on a subway or train and what did you like about it? Nope. Do you have to experience something to fully understand it? Yes. What embarrasses you instantly? A LOT A LOT A LOT!!!!! It is SO easy to embarrass me, including second-handedly. Do you think you could be a firefighter, why/why not? Hell no, I'm most certainly not in the necessary shape, and quite honestly I'm not that willing to risk my life for random people that could be assholes. What do you think should be censored? Idk. I have mixed feelings on censorship, no matter how stupid it seems. Eh... yeah, idk. Are you related to anyone famous or historical, if so who? Queen Victoria and William Clark. Would you ever donate a kidney to anyone, and who? Depends on who and obviously if we're even compatible. Have you ever fired a gun? No. What is the main quality you think makes a great parent? Sincerely caring for them, probably. Who is a female role model in your life? My mom, in some ways. What childhood dreams have you neglected? Jfc a lot, I don't want to think about it. What do you have trouble seeing clearly in your mind? My future, honestly. It's hard picturing my elderly days. Like I'm not suicidal anymore, I just don't really... realize I'll get there, I guess. I can't picture myself being old and alive. Would you travel to space if possible? No, too long of a trip. Are you an optimistic person? I'm a realist. Do you consider yourself more realistic OR idealistic? ^ Have you ever felt bi-curious? I started out accepting myself as bisexual through thinking myself as bicurious. I quickly realized "bisexual" was more accurate than "bicurious," but it was an easier thing to shift acceptance towards in regards to yourself when you thought you were straight for 21 years. Are you a fan of U.S. President Donald Trump? No sir. I agree with some of his ideas, but I hate him as an asshole person without a trace of manners. Do you know anyone with autism, mood disorders or learning disabilities? Multiple. I'd assume most people know someone who fits at least one criterion there. Are you green-eyed? Not exactly, but they definitely have a green hue to them. They're a gray/green blue. Would you consider UFC fighting and WWE real sports events? I think it's beyond debate that a lot of it is staged, but I mean, I guess to a degree? You still have to fight. It's physical exertion. Have you ever had an immediate relative pass away of cancer? No. Wait. I can't remember if my grandmother had cancer or not... but I don't think so. She was just old. Would you rather work in an office, warehouse or on a retail shop floor? An office, definitely. In my work-hunting as well as actual work experience, office work is probably the only job I could actually do that doesn't require a degree... Do you have a favorite wild animal? Why? You can't know me and not be fully aware meerkats are my favorite animal. Why? Ho boy. I love social species, and meerkats have such strong personalities, and holy shit are those little things brave as fuck. They're so GOSH DARN CUTE!!!! too, and their loyalty to each other is astounding. I love how playful and curious the little guys are, and... just wow okay, I could write an actual essay on how I adore meerkats so goddamn much. Do you have any unusual, uncommon phobias? I'm sure there are other people afraid of whale sharks, but I don't think it's common? And is an actual phobia of pregnancy uncommon? Idk. Do you prefer Android or iPhone? I hate my Android. I've had an iPhone in the past, and it was great. Are you a fan of sweet, sour, salty, or savory snacks? All, depending on my mood. Most often I'd say I like sweet. Do you believe climate change is real? We can't be friends if you don't. Do you believe in evolution OR creationism? Evolution. Do you think people can really predict the future? Nah. Have you been to a lot of shrinks? I hate that word. Just call them therapists. But yeah. How often do you clean your room? Not often enough. I need to dust... Any movies coming out soon that you want to see? I DESPERATELY wanna see the "Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark" one. Those books were my CHILDHOOD. What was the last fear you overcame? I don't know about totally overcame, but vocational rehab helped me quite a bit with answering the phone to numbers I didn't recognize. Have you ever hurt yourself trying to crack a body part? No, nothing on me really cracks. Well no, both my big toes do, but no, I haven't hurt myself trying to crack them. What’s the worst part about winter? The days where it's cold BUT ALSO WINDY asdkljfaklwej;awe Summer? It's too fucking hot and probably humid, too. Spring? POLLEN. Fall? Literally nothing. :') Are you allergic to anything? Pollen and silver. How many times have you changed a diaper in your life? Like, once. Which country has the most fascinating culture? Oh boy, idk. Who does your favorite song? Idrk what my current favorite song is. I say my all-time fave is "False Flags" by Massive Attack, but it's not something I constantly wanna listen to. I guess you could maybe say it's "Headache" by Motionless In White; I play and repeat that a lot. I've really been digging them lately. When was the last time you wore makeup? Shit dude, idk. Months ago. Do you prefer males or females or both? I'm generally afraid of men, but I mean, I don't "prefer" one over the other if he's a good guy. Where in your town do you go when you wanna chill with a few friends? I don't have any friends I go out with. But there's nowhere to go here anyway. Where’s the best place to get coffee? N/A Have you ever seen someone struggle with an addiction? My dad was an alcoholic, but he's recovered. He loved (idk if he still does it) fantasy football, too. Pretty sure I got my addictive personality from him, lol. When was the last time someone gave you flowers? Early 2017. Do you like cranberry juice? omfg NO. Do you play any zombie-killing video games? The Last of Us is fucking dope, but I didn't finish it before my PS3 broke. :'( I like the Resident Evil series too, and some of those games have zombies or similar creatures. And The Walking Dead game tears my heart out every fucking season. What is the dominating genre on your mp3 player/iPod? Varying forms of metal. Do you have a book shelf? No. What website do you spend way too much time on? YouTube is ALWAYS open. I constantly either watch let's players and a few other kinds of YTers, moving windows around so I can see it and do other things, or listen to music. Do you like wind chimes? I LOVE!!!!!!!!!! WINDCHIMES!!!!!!!!!! Do you have a fetish? No. Do you have a pet fish? No. Don't get me wrong, they're beautiful and calming, but not worth it for me personally. They don't have much of a personality at all, and cleaning a tank so much for just a fish isn't for me. Do you like kettle corn? (That sweet and salty popcorn) Yessss! Do you enjoy classic rock? Hell yeah, man. When was the last time you went for a walk, just cause? Not since I was at Sara's last. Do you listen to Type O Negative? No. Do you have any fillings or cavities? Yeah. Have you gotten your wisdom teeth taken out yet? No, and thankfully I don't need to. One was very close to needing to be, but it has just enough room. Do you actually read privacy policies when signing up for new things? "Depending on what I’m signing up for, I’m likely to at least skim it." <<< This. Did you have a lot of birthday parties when you were younger? If so, did you invite everyone in the class? I had a party every year up to... idk what age. And no, I only invited friends. Do you like when things are color coordinated? Yes. Have you ever participated in one of those “guess how many jelly beans, mints, etc. are in this jar!” contest? if so, have you ever won? Yeah, and no. Can you juggle? Nope. Have you ever mistaken a ringing phone on TV or in a movie for your own? Who hasn't? How often do you use bobby pins? Never. My hair's really too short for them. Well, I'd probably pin the right side up if I was doing something like cleaning. Do you live on an avenue, road, drive or something else? Road. What are your school colors? Blue and white. Have you ever taken a picture with Santa when you were little? Yeah. Have you ever rolled down a steep, grassy hill for fun? Actually yeah. Do you like Nerds candy? Yes I do.

#survey #quiz #questions #random #bored

7 notes · View notes

namjooncharms · 5 years

Text

Deals with a demon (3)

demon!jungkook x reader

part 1, Part 2

( also another supernatural!bts, they’re all different species in this one! )

description: all children believe in fairytales until they are proven wrong and demons do not fall in love. yet this one is fated and punished to do exactly that.

warnings: none?

jungkook stared at you, eyes wide but trying to keep a calm look on his face and he was failing miserably. he can’t figure out what he needs to say, what he needs to do. you know? fuck do you know? he needs to play dumb and that is something HE KNOWS for sure because despite wanting to just ignore you. he can’t. but he can’t have you knowing what and who he is. he just can’t. it would be to much for you. or at least that’s what he’s thinking anyway.

“uh.. what?” he asked curiously, feigning innocence and you shook yourself from the ridiculous thought and offered a small smile. “sorry, nothing, never mind.” you turned and began walking. jungkook let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding and he followed after you without saying anything else. chewing his lip as he followed behind you. “how did you find me?” you asked him turning slightly to see his face. eyes on him, and he finds himself wanting to touch you. but he doesn’t obviously.

jungkook shrugged. “i followed after you, after i hurt your wrist.” he explained. “i didn’t notice the guy though until after you came out of the train station.” of course he was lying, he had noticed him but he couldn’t do anything out in the open. especially not being an ‘idol’. why he’d ever agreed to t hat was beyond him, though having millions of people screaming his name was something he quite liked. but he’d felt it, felt that danger you’d been in and at first he’d ignored it.

but ignoring such a pain in his chest was difficult, especially when the other members began questioning him about why he was acting strange. it wasn’t until taehyung had told him something was going to happen that he’d turned to smoke and completely vanished from the dorm altogether. just to get to you. and when he’d found you, a rage had built inside of his chest until he’d FINALLY managed to get the man who was advancing on you and of course he knew everything. he could hear his thoughts and what he planned on doing.

it was a sad day when more people were more demonic and evil than him, actually it irritated him. you irritated him. yet he tried so hard not to blame you for any of it. you had been a child, and it had been his own fault for thinking it didn’t count. jungkook followed you until you reached the apartment building. you looked up at him, eyes gleaming with unshed tears and it startled him. “Y/N are you crying?” he asked quietly, he wanted to stop that, you crying, wipe away any tears that threaten to seep over. “what?” you shook your head. “no..” you sounded genuinely confused and it made him wonder if you had been traumatised. jungkook took hold of your arm, the demon himself was confused.

the tears that were threatening to spill over to roll down your cheeks, confused the demon so much. had the man that advanced on you really got to you that much? “i’m okay.” you told him and you turned, with shaky hands brought out your keys as you walked into the building. the demon followed, eyes never leaving you once. why does he feel like there’s something else? why the fuck does he even care? wetting his lips he follows you right until you reach your door. “do you want to come in?” you ask unlocking the door you look up at him, for being younger than you he sure is taller than you.

“i should head back. i just wanted to.. make sure you got back okay.” he told you and he sees that small flicker of a smile making your lips twitch. “i’m okay. thank you.” You respond to him and he offered what feels like a smile but is more like a grimace instead and he wets his lips. “see you monday.” you tell him and you close the door, only once you’re inside does he lean against the wall, just to listen to you. he’s listening to make sure you’re okay and for a good few minutes he thinks that you are.

but you break down completely and his eyes widen as he hears the heart wrenching sobs that normally with anyone else wouldn’t bother him. he feels it in his chest, a pain tightening his own heart and he clutches at it as if it’s going to help. but it doesn’t. with every sob he hears from you, that pain grows and he finds himself sliding down the wall gasping for air, just like you, on the otherside of the wall are doing. the demon doesn’t understand what’s happening, he really doesn’t and part of him doesn’t want to understand. he grasps at his chest one last time before he managed to move out of sight of any cameras that he’s now just realised are there and he evaporates.

↔ ☼ ❥ ☼ ↔

monday morning comes rather quickly much to jungkook’s annoyance and irritability. he’s gotten severely worse over the weekend, which the other members have noticed. he’s unsure himself if it’s because he wants to see you or if it’s because your presence makes him at ease and nervous all at once. he’s walking through the building, and it’s taehyung that stops him from going anywhere. “what’s going on?” he asked. in fact it was more of a demand. the demon stares at him dumbfounded until he understands and he sighs. “i don’t wanna talk about it.” he went to move past and he’s stopped. “jungkook... i ‘m psychic, not stupid. you’re not yourself. what’s going on?”

jungkook sighed instead of saying it out loud, the demon touches his friends hand placed on his arm. and taehyung sees everything. “so it’s... her?” he asked. “she’s the one that you-” he began and jungkook stopped him. nodding. “yeah it’s her.” taehyung mutters an i knew it under his breath and jungkook rolls his eyes. “so.. what are you doing about it? didn’t you.. for years blame that one kid for everything?” taehyung asked and jungkook chewed the inside of his cheek. “yeah i did.. and i’m trying.. i’m trying really hard to keep blaming her. and it’s not working.”

“it’s not working?” taehyung asked and jungkook shook his head. “no it’s not working. i.. can’t explain it. it’s driving me crazy. ...insane even. i don’t know what to do.” taehyung stared at him, able to see distress his demonic friend is going through and he frowned. “you need to face it. you can’t keep.... doing this. you’re gonna end up hurting someone. probably Y/N.” he tells him and jungkook looked at him. “what if that’s... what i have to do? hurt her.. to get everything back?” he asked and taehyung stared at him like he was crazy, opening his mouth to speak.

but is stopped by a voice. “sorry... can i just.. talk to mr. jeon for a minute?” the voice asked and they both turned, seeing you standing you seem a lot more timid and nervous than you had, you had seemed so at ease the other week. taehyung took a glance at jungkook who nodded and taehyung patted his arm, taking off. jungkook kept his eyes averted until you spoke. “i.. didn’t get to properly thank you.” you whisper and he looked at you, holding out a bag towards him, confused he took it, taking hold of it. “thank you.” and with that quick thanks you’ve turned and you’re disappearing around the corner.

jungkook took a look at the bag, inside is some home made food, his favourites and he looked back up. of course there was the internet, so that’s probably how you knew. but still, it made his chest constrict in a way it never had before. get a grip. you’re a demon, you fucking idiot. he scolds himself in annoyance. he needs to stop you from knowing anything. you deserve better than that. this. everything. just as he looked back down at the bag something glinting catches his eyes and he looked at it. setting the bag on the nearest table, jungkook lifted it out taking a good look at it, his breathing stopping. a small pendant with a thin leather strap, like a bracelet. but the pendant, he frowned as he looked at it and his eyes widened. two pinky fingers being crossed.

fuck. you already knew.

#bts x reader #bts imagine #bts fanfic #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #demon jungkook #dwad3

12 notes · View notes

6stronghands · 6 years

Text

please read. it’s long. but i need to say this:

Broken in the past year:

Dishwasher, refrigerator, microwave, furnace, water heater, toilet, gas fireplace, TV, 2 laptops, 2 cellphones, my eyeglasses, the locking system, door handle, driver window (stuck DOWN not up, of course) and catalytic converter on my 15 year old minivan and the other car, a 22 year old beloved 4 Runner had to be junked because it was so decrepit and unfixable (it’s a credit to those amazing early generation Runners though, because it made 260,000 miles and basically ran on Marvel Mystery Oil, Seafoam, and pep talks at the end), then I found out that my home has serious foundation issues, and now, NOW, the dryer.

My new (used) Mustang got hit ONE WEEK after I bought it, by a drunk guy in a big ol F150, as I was my way home to kansas after caring for three (3!!!) family members in the hospital in Utah for four months. The whole time I was in Utah, I was like, holy god these guys are shockingly bad drivers (and I’ve driven extensively around a ton of states). There’s this move I call The Utah Special, a lane changing move where they don’t signal, they don’t check their blind spots, they don’t move vertically….they just horizontally zoom into a space they want in the next lane. I saw so many near misses and actual accidents during my time there. And lo and behold, LITERALLY AS I’M ON MY WAY OUT OF THAT HELL STATE, at the motherfreakin base of the canyon, four hours from Colorado and freedom from the religious insanity and repression that manifests as the angriest, most aggressive, flat out incompetent drivers I’ve ever seen, a jackalope did the Utah Special on me and my new car.

It screwed up the alignment and tire pressure monitor and left a big dent on the drivers door. Luckily i didn’t run into the giant concrete wall that he spun me into, because I’m an experienced driver, esp in correcting a bad, fast turn, but it was close. The guy is now trying to avoid payment so I’ve been driving around with a beatup looking car.

One month after i got back to Lawrence, a guy backed into me at the store, and I ended up using the 100 bucks he gave me for groceries, and trying to buff out the back myself, which didn’t work. This is my childhood dream car btw, the only nice thing I’ve ever owned (and it looks a lot nicer than it is, it’s very bare bones inside and out, it just looks slick. It took almost two years and three states of looking to find a good Mustang for such a low price).

And now.

Now I’ve got a gutted dryer, parts spread out to hell and gone, because Samsung dryers have the worst design and the cheapest parts (seriously, don’t ever buy Samsung appliances. Three different parts stores and repair people told me they refuse to work on Samsungs or carry parts for them any more because the design is so bad and the parts are so cheap). I thought I fixed it by replacing the circuit board, but now I think it’s the thermal fuse switch which is located UNDER and BEHIND the drum, not in the more accessible places other brands put it. But that’s not irritating enough, no no, now it turns out I have to learn how to solder because they didn’t use screws or plugs for the fuse mount, no no, they soldered it on, so I had to drill the fucker out and and buy a solder iron and now I’m watching how-to-solder videos on youtube.

And (of course there’s an AND) the charging port on my 3rd used cell phone broke, and I don’t have time to order a replacement port and do it myself, so I took it into one of those overpriced walk in places (for $130 dollars!!! for fifteen minutes work). Picked it up five minutes before they closed last night, and now the screen is unresponsive. According to the good people of the internet, since I can’t get it to reboot, it’s probably a badly seated digitizer that got bumped when they did the replacement. I have to take a break from my how-to-solder videos and go in and convince a bunch of 20 year old guys to fix my phone and not charge me for it.

So. This is a lot.

And because we are in the aptly named bad timeline, my personal life has pretty much echoed all the broken down stuff. I have had some weird, hard to diagnose, health crap that cost me one job and has prevented me from finding another. So I just do a bunch of volunteer stuff now, and keep applying to worse and worse jobs, hoping someone, somewhere will take me. My new dog (who I adopted because I’ve been so overwhelmed and stressed, I was freaking out one day and my sister was like, I KNOW WHAT YOU SHOULD DO, YOU NEED A DOG, and she was one hundred percent right, everything is better with a good dog) got attacked at the park, by a Husky owned by a RedditGuy, who then RAN when I was trying to revive my dog, and drove away in a Mercedes with a license obscurer. The only reason I know who he is, is because a quick thinking teenager ran after him and tried to get his name (which the guy wouldn’t give) and the teen took pics of him with his cellphone (don’t shit on Millenials around me, just don’t. All I see are good kids doing good stuff under bad circumstances). (Also, just fwiw, there are all kinds of Huskies being surrendered at shelters and involved in attacks because, and this is so dumb it just kills me, people are watching Game of Thrones and deciding they want their very own Direwolf, without having the experience or willingness to take on a breed that needs a lot of training and reinforcement and care. Huskies are great dogs if they have great owners, like a lot of other great but high-care breeds).

The medical bills were over $4000, which I had to take a loan out for. There was a court hearing, and the judge ruled in my favor, and ordered the guy to pay, by March 1st. You won’t be surprised at all, because FML, that the guy hasn’t paid, and is contesting it, which means more court stuff. This has all been stressful as hell, but this dog is genuinely the most amazing dog I’ve ever had; he is worth any trouble and expense. I would sell my Mustang, if I had to, to keep this tiny, adorable fuzzball (some kind of poodle-terrier mix, I think, I dunno. He was a rescue dog who was fostered with an inmate in a local prison, Safe Harbor Prison Dogs, check it out, they’re great) I’ve never had a companion dog before. I’ve had family dogs who have all been great, but I’ve never had one where they are bred to be a companion, that’s their work, like a work-dog needs work to be happy and sane. He is carrying my kid and me in his soft little paws; he does good work, this guy. He is always happy, very energetic when you want, calm and cuddly when you want, incredibly sensitive and attuned, unnervingly intelligent and a joy to train, and as soft as a bunny. I have to brush him every single day because of his crazy Fizzgig hair, but that’s fine. He rides on my shoulder in the car and fits inside a tote bag so I can sneak him lots of places. I’ve socialized him from the beginning (which is why I was at that damn park) so he’s totally silent in public places like stores. He loves people, especially kids, and if I ever get off the job-hunting, broken-thing-fixing treadmill, I’d like to volunteer him as a therapy dog in hospitals or wherever. He’s like my very own Daemon, my own Pantalaimon. A gift and a blessing at any time, but especially now, when things are Challenging.

Then. Then the worst thing. Something really bad happened to my one of my kids. Something so bad that I can’t talk about it in a public place like this. I can barely talk about it in my Al-Anon support group. I spend a lot of energy not thinking about it. I have learned a lot of things in the past few years, like A LOT. I know so much more now, about so many, many things. But this bad thing is something I wish I never knew, and it’s not fixable, only recoverable.

I have never, ever been so continually sad and angry. It’s been bad timing for my mental health, the Me Too movement. I had a friend visit and he was talking about it, and was telling me that it’s turned into a witch hunt, that things aren’t really this bad for women, that maybe women and men just speak different languages and have different needs and wants, that if things have been this bad, why didn’t women say something sooner, and I just….I couldn’t talk. He wanted me to give him specific examples of male violations in my life, and I literally didn’t know where to start. I can list so many, like every woman alive. I could list hundreds of small things, things where you just accept it because what else can you do, and other things, things that were not small, but you ignore, because you actually know the guy and you know he’s genuinely a mostly good guy, or trying to be, or will be some day, or has a family who loves and depends on him, or maybe I didn’t have the vocabulary or confidence or experience to safely call him out then, or maybe I didn’t know if calling him out would ruin his life, and for real, I could see that he would some day evolve into A Good Man, An Ally, and I didn’t want to jeopardize that. Because that’s real, that dynamic. It doesn’t fit into any black and white social media woke doctrine, but it’s real. I have hurt people through ignorance, and I have learned and evolved, and there have been a few specific times where I can look back in gratitude that someone educated me in a gracious, patient way, because it changed me for the better. Do men know this? That people like me aren’t calling them on stuff? That the problem is much, much worse than the revelations of the Me Too movement? That we let pretty much all the small and medium stuff go? Do they know? Are they so uneducated, so culturally indoctrinated, so blind, to other men’s bad behavior, to their own, that they really think that this is all an over-reaction or mixed signals or just women looking to be angry about something???

I know it’s a lot more complicated than that, because goddamn life usually is. There have been hundreds of not-terrible and semi-bad violations in my 40 years, that I’ve just lived with, and then there’s been a handful of genuinely, life-altering-ly bad ones. The ones that teach you to to beware, that there are predators who prey, and you are just meat. But I couldn’t articulate any of this to this friend, this guy who feels so defensive and attacked by the movement. No one has accused him of anything, he’s just feeling defensive. He thinks people are unfair to men, that men are trying their best, that women need to explain more nicely.

I have been so angry, about so much, for months now. I usually blow up fast and I’m done. I’m usually the poster girl for Onward And Upward, Life Is Beautiful, Everything’s Awesome. This constant anger is exhausting. And I wish I was only angry, but I’m also broken-hearted. Broken. Everything’s broken, everything keeps breaking. Bad people, careless people, indifferent people, they keep ruining things and getting away with things. The news isn’t good, not politically, not economically, not environmentally, not anything. All signs point to things getting much, much worse.

I will say this, I am smarter than I was a year ago.

I seem to only learn by doing, to learn the hard way. I know a lot more now. Like A LOT, in a pretty short span of time. I am not the same person I was a year ago. I am not as sweet, and not as optimistic, but I am seasoned. I’m better at problem solving. I know there's always going to be another damn thing, whatever it is. I know the importance of good tools and resources and support, whether it’s fixing broken cars or broken hearts. That came out trite, but it’s true. I’ve learned that sometimes the only good thing to come out of a bad thing is knowledge, if you use it to recover or evolve, or to help someone else. Sometimes the only silver lining is that you’ve got newfound empathy. We need more empathy in the world, so that’s not nothing. I am so, so worried about the future, about what my kids are going to have to learn in order to navigate their own personal and cultural despair. They’re gonna have to get tougher, faster, while protecting their gentle hearts and giving natures. That’s tricky. I hope they’ll remember that we’re in this together, that the only way to survive is by leaning on and helping each other. Another thing that sounds trite, but is the truest thing I know. I’ve learned to talk about things, to ask questions, to ask again if I don’t understand (and again, and again), and to say to people, I need you, I’m stuck, I’m headfucked, I’m heartfucked, help. Help me. Using your resources, whether they’re youtube how-to videos, therapy, doctors, friends, Al-Anon groups, dogs, whatever, is the only way I know how to get over and through.

It’s kind of strange to FEEL how much stronger I am right now, than a year ago. Because things are much worse; something that would have broken me for good, if Then-Me had known. But Now-Me has soldiered through some shit by leaning hard on my resources, and because of those resources, not through inner grit or stoicism, but the resources, I’m tougher, smarter, better equipped. I am not exactly happier, but I do have happy moments. That’s a big deal. I am afraid for the future, but I know that, at least as long as I’m able to fight, I CAN fight.

I have leaned on some of you here. Some of you are my safe places, are resources, tools, friends. Genuine, real ones. I am stronger because of you. I can write and write, but never truly articulate what that has meant, what it means to me. You know how vets are with other vets? The way they’ll meet up after they leave the military, and fall into each other’s arms, the way they trust each other for the rest of their lives? I feel that way about you guys. I’ve been in the motherfucking foxhole, and some of you guys climbed in and covered my head and held my shaking hands. I just have no words. The ‘no atheists in a foxhole’ thing isn’t true. I still don’t believe in God, but I believe in friends, in good people, in the righteous fighters who get no acclaim, no awards, but quietly, bravely, change the world around them a little at a time, to great cumulative effect. I can say I love you, I’m so grateful, you’re wonderful, but really, I have no words other than, thank you. Thank you. THANK YOU.

#personal #thank you

12 notes · View notes