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#Rachel said hell twice
cupid-styles · 1 month
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casual
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partially based on casual by chappell roan and a lil bit of sad personal experience hehe
word count: 2k
content warnings: angst (no happy ending), references to smut, alcohol, harry being a douche, not ramadan friendly
main masterlist | talk to me
. . .
From: H (12:47 a.m.)
Come over?
To: H (12:50 a.m.)
Give me 15
From: H (12:52 a.m.)
K
. . .
It’s not unusual for her nights to look like this. Or her early mornings, rather.
It wasn’t always this way. When she first met Harry, she wanted nothing to do with him romantically or intimately. She’d heard about his reputation — it wasn’t anything bad as long as you were looking for the same thing. He was an expert in bed and the friends that slept with him always provided rave reviews. Ever excited rumblings of, “oh my God, he’s so caring! He made me finish twice before he even took his cock out” and “he’s the perfect one night stand — seriously, I’ve never had anyone better.” 
But Y/N didn’t care for that.
She was a serial monogamous, always bumping around from one lengthy relationship to the next. In hindsight, she supposes she wasn’t any better than Harry, who earned his notoriety from a series — a long series — of casual hookups. 
If you needed a rebound, you went to Harry.
If you were going through a dry spell, you went to Harry.
If you were just horny and needed someone to go home with at the end of the night (and he hadn’t miraculously already found somebody else yet), you went to Harry.
And Y/N never planned to sleep with him. Ever, really. He was a fine friend, someone who mixed well with their mutual friends, but they hardly exchanged conversation except for the occasional nicetie. She had his phone number from when he planned Rachel’s surprise birthday party last year and they were friends on Venmo, passing back the same $20 every month for drinks or a shared Uber. 
That was the extent of their friendship. 
Until a few months back, when Y/N was down in the dumps. She’d been seeing this girl, Samantha, for a month or two, assuming that they were headed straight towards a happy, exclusive relationship — only to discover that Samantha was sleeping with and seeing just about 10 other people on the side. And it only came out because Samantha happened to contract chlamydia from one of her sexual partners, so she’d been forced to tell Y/N for the sake of her health.
Y/N's friends, Rachel, Maeve, and Len gave her time to wallow. They offered it to her on a silver platter, even, offering multiple girls nights out (and in), providing Y/N all the space she needed to cry and complain and talk about how hurt she felt. 
But then… a week of moping turned into two, which turned into three, which eventually turned into a month and a half. Her friends were exhausted from watching her spiral into sadness, so they did the only thing they knew: They sat her down and told her she needed to rebound. Fast.
“And who the hell am I supposed to rebound with?” Y/N asked through a sniffle. The only thing that made this whole thing worse was her friends staging an intervention for her because she was being annoyingly sad about her not-really-breakup-but-felt-like-a-breakup. “See, that’s the best part of being friends with a man whore,” Maeve replied eagerly. Len and Rachel sat on either side of her with bright eyes, nodding excitedly. “Harry! He already said he’s down and everything!” “Wait— you already asked him?” “We just put the idea in his head. Don’t worry, men are stupid,” Len quickly waved her off, “But he’s going out with everyone tonight. We’ll feed you a few shots to get you just buzzy enough, and then send you off to your night in heaven. You won’t even remember that girl’s name by the time Harry’s done with you!” Y/N cringed. “Hasn’t, like… everyone slept with him though?” Maeve shrugged. “Yeah, but he’s clean. He gets regular testing and uses condoms. Really, Y/N, it’s sort of a rite of passage at this point. But you should do it only if you’re comfortable— don’t let us force you into it.” Y/N swallowed tightly. She had to admit, the thought of a rebound sounded… appealing. She’d swiped through dating apps looking for one, but she was too scared that a one night stand would end in her bloody murder. And it helped that Harry already knew what he was doing, and— wait, was she crazy or was she actually starting to consider this? “Alright, fine,” she replied with a shaky exhale, “Let’s do this.”
That was four months ago.
And what was supposed to be an evening of stupid, lusty, casual sex turned into Y/N falling hard. It wasn’t her fault, though — no, not when he panted breathy promises into her mouth in the back of the Uber, mumblings of “just tonight, you know that, right?”. She’d replied just how she’d rehearsed it in her brain hours prior: “yes, yeah, I know— just tonight. Just for tonight.” 
"Just for tonight" shifted into Harry asking her to stay until the morning for breakfast and shower sex. Then, the following weekend, he texted her the ever classy you still awake? at just past midnight. She was indeed up, doing nothing but rotting on her couch and watching a documentary about the deep sea — and her hookup with Harry had been good, really good, and she wasn’t going to turn down another night of orgasms. 
As he wrapped a condom around his dick and pressed messy kisses down her neck, he whispered the same hurried sentiments from the weekend before: “didn’t see anyone I wanted tonight and we were good, yeah? It was good. So just… just one more night, okay? That’s fine, right?” 
Foolishly, with flittering eyelashes and her nails scraping down her back as he pushed inside, she nodded and echoed his words. Just one more night, that’s fine.
It didn’t take long for their friends to catch on when Harry would leave the bar an hour early without looking for someone to take home. Or, when they’d both be out and, like magnets slowly being pulled towards one another, they’d end up kissing on the street as they waited for an Uber to take them back to Harry’s place. 
The guys hounded Harry about it, asking if Y/N was finally the one to tie him down.
“Nah,” he’d reply with a shake of his head, “She’s a good girl. Too good for me.”
When Y/N’s friends demanded to know every last detail, she shrugged.
"I'm not really sure. It's... good, I think."
They only responded with small, tight smiles.
. . .
“Your mom texted me today. She invited us to come see them this weekend.”
Harry doesn’t reply — or rather, he makes an unassuming humming noise — as he gets out of Y/N’s bed, untangling his naked form from her sheets. He hunts down his briefs and pulls them on before stretching his arms out. 
“Did you eat dinner?” he asks, grabbing her tee-shirt off the floor and tossing it to her. She sits up, tightening the sheet around her chest. She shakes her head as she clutches the fabric of her shirt in her hands and watches him scroll on his phone.
“No. I thought we could get something.”
Harry hums again, pinching his bottom lip between his fingers. Swallowing, Y/N puts her shirt back on. She’s not sure why, but she always feels oddly vulnerable once they’ve finished hooking up. When she’s still naked and he’s already moved onto the next thing, like having plans with the guys or taking a shower before he heads home. She'd even purchased his favorite body wash and shampoo when he started sticking around a bit longer, but he'd never even mentioned it or uttered a thank you.
“Yeah, maybe,” he finally replies. He locks his phone and places it back on the ledge of the TV stand in her bedroom. The simple act makes her heart jump — usually, he’ll stuff his phone in his pocket as he’s leaving. Maybe he was planning on staying the night. “So listen, I know I took you to dinner at my parents’ place that one time, but I don’t really feel comfortable with you talking to my mom.”
Y/N furrows her brows in confusion. “She texted me, H. I don’t, like, regularly reach out to her.”
“Right, but it just makes this whole thing feel way more serious than it is.” he says, sitting back down on the bed. He maintains a steady distance between them and it makes a small lump form in Y/N’s throat. 
“Okay,” she murmurs slowly, “That’s fine, I get it. But… we never really talked about what this is.”
Harry glances up with wide, confused eyes. “We’ve said it a million times, Y/N. This is casual. Completely and totally casual sex.”
An ugly, involuntary chortle leaves her chest. He raises his eyebrows.
“We’ve been fucking for four months. That’s not really casual.”
“Yes, it is. It’s friends with benefits.”
“Sure, maybe, but that’s if you explicitly outline that you’re just having sex. No feelings involved.”
“We did that.”
“When?”
“At the beginning,” Harry responds. He seems frustrated now, but it feels as though he’s recalling a memory that Y/N was never even around for. “Remember? I told you, it was all just for tonight type shit. Nothing real.”
“Then why the fuck did you take me to your parents’ house two months ago?” Y/N demands, anger rising in her chest, “And why am I your date to all of your stupid, boring work events? And why the hell are you at my house like four times a week, and why do you have a drawer full of my clothes at your place?”
“Y/N—”
“This isn’t fucking casual, Harry. This is dating. You’re dating me and you don't even realize it.”
“I would know if I was dating you, but I never asked you to be my girlfriend. I don’t want a girlfriend, you know that.”
She groans and shakes her head, ignoring the way her jaw already aches from clenching it so hard. She grabs a clear pair of underwear from her drawer and quickly slips them on. Harry’s silent the entire time.
Suddenly, she whips around and faces him. “Have you been fucking other people?” 
A wrinkle forms between his brows. He shakes his head.
“No. I wouldn’t do that, and it’s unsafe.”
“Right,” she murmurs, placing her hands on her hips, “So piece it together, Harry. Neither of us are sleeping with other people. We’re exclusively seeing one another.”
“You’re just making this out to be way more of a thing than it is—”
“Oh, fuck off!” she exclaims, “You have a key to my house! That’s pretty serious!”
“I didn’t ask you for that!” he fires back as he stands up from the bed. They’re in a stand-off now, staring at one another with angry eyes. She snorts and shakes her head in disbelief.
“My friends were so fucking right about you. You’re such an asshole. You know Maeve called me a loser for thinking you were a good guy?”
Harry rolls his eyes as he grabs his phone and sweater, “Yeah, I’m sure.”
They don’t exchange any other words as he leaves her room. She sits back down on the edge of the mattress, listening as he stuffs his feet in his sneakers and slams the front door shut. She doesn’t even notice that tears are lining her eyes and falling onto the apples of her cheeks.
. . .
It’s barely 48 hours later when Y/N’s watching a YouTube video as she stands in the bathroom, doing her nighttime routine.
Like four months prior, when she hoped Harry would be a good rebound for her heartbreak, she's been moping around in self-hatred and sadness. She's in awe of how cruel and oblivious he's being, but more than that, she can't believe she actually believed he had real feelings for her. Ones that extended beyond sex.
She’s brushing her teeth when she notices a text notification come down, redirecting her attention from the influencer vlog to read the name of the sender. She taps on it to see a familiar initial.
From: H (10:32 p.m.)
Sorry for what I said. Can I come over?
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merrybloomwrites · 3 months
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I Hear Them Calling (Chapter 2)
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Story Summary: Alpha Harry Styles and omega Y/N Y/L/N meet under less than ideal circumstances. Overtime their paths will cross and they will be drawn to one another in ways they never expected.
Chapter Summary: Y/N & Harry separately reflect on the event that brought them together and cope with the feelings it raised.
AN: It's a bit of a shorter chapter than I originally planned, guess I'm still getting back in the swing of writing after a very crazy week. This chapter is very introspective I would say. Less action than I normally include, but I thought all this was important to set up future chapters, if that makes sense.
Previous Chapters: Prologue ; Chapter 1
CW: Mentions of a previous attempted assault
Word Count: 3.2k
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On Sunday morning you wake up in a cold sweat. You certainly hadn’t had a peaceful night of sleep. You’d been plagued with nightmares of the alpha and what he had done.
It’s early, the sun is just starting to rise, but you give up on sleep. You know that if you close your eyes, you’re just going to keep seeing that man and the paralyzing fear will come back. Distractions are the way to go.
As always, you make yourself a cup of tea to start the day. But it doesn’t sooth you the way it normally does. In fact, you’re feeling even more anxious. You’re confused why a scent you now associate with Sarah, one of the nicest alphas you’ve ever met, is causing such a negative reaction in your body.
You start to run through everything that happened the night before. It all comes back in vivid detail. Up until one point when it suddenly went dark, and your memories become fuzzy and confusing.
What the hell had even happened there? Because it wasn’t a drop. You had dropped twice before, and this was different. You’re completely unaware during a drop and have no memories after. Instead, you’re just left feeling dizzy, and so, so alone.
But this time wasn’t like that. It was hazy, sure, but you were still somewhat aware of your surroundings. You were aware that even after you practically lost consciousness, he still moved closer to your neck and tried to forcibly scent you. You remember falling, knowing you wouldn’t be able to catch yourself. But someone was there to break your fall and help you sit.
That’s when you were surrounded by the tea scent. At the time you had no idea it belonged to such a kind and gentle person. You just knew there was still an alpha touching you, and you had no clue what their intentions might be. But then you became aware of the calming pheromones they were releasing. This immediately helped you relax and made you start to trust this unknown alpha.
You had picked up on the presence of another alpha nearby. One who was releasing a bitter, angry scent before quickly switching to a calming one as well. Now you know that it was Harry, though his scent at the time was nothing like the wonderful one that permeated his dressing room.
The next memories are quite embarrassing to remember. You’re happy that Rachel had taught you about Harry’s band before the show. Because at least you could identify that the man who’s lap you were in was his guitarist, Mitch.
And then you think about how wonderful they all were. How they took care of you and made sure you were okay. Especially Harry.
You still can’t figure out what that was about. He was so protective, so worried. That alone had your omega trying to stake claim on the man. Never before had someone cared that much about you and your wellbeing. And then his scent. God, it was amazing. You’re eternally grateful you didn’t see him again after the show. You know you would have said or done something stupid. His smell would probably be more prominent after a show, sweat washing off the extra scent blockers he obviously wore in public.
Your mind starts to wander thinking about how delicious his scent probably is when it’s direct and unmasked. It’s a good thing your phone dings, pulling you back to the present before your thoughts can turn into inappropriate territory.
It’s Jada, sending you the videos she took the night before and informing you that Harry will set aside up to 6 tickets for whichever day you choose. You thank her for the videos and let her know you’ll get back to her after talking to your friends.
You’re not ready yet to talk about what happened at the show, so you hold off texting your friends for the moment. You know you’ll need to explain what happened, since you don’t want to lie about why you’re getting these tickets, but it can wait a few days.
Getting back to your distractions you spend the day deep cleaning your apartment and running errands. Anything to keep your mind busy.
You send the videos to Rachel and make plans for her to come over for lunch Saturday. You’ll tell her the truth about the concert then. Violet reaches out in the group chat, checking that you and Ameila will still be coming over for your usual Friday night hangout that week. That somehow leads to a discussion about favorite types of soup and by the time you’re all done debating broccoli cheddar versus tomato basil, it’s time for bed.
You’re exhausted from the sleepless night prior and you hope that you’re so tired you won’t have any dreams. Unfortunately, that doesn’t happen. Of course not. No, you once again have nightmares of the alpha. Unlike the night before, when it had just been repeats of what happened, now it was what could have happened. All the worst-case scenarios.
Monday morning rolls around, and you might actually be more tired than you were before bed. You go to make your cup of tea and see hot chocolate mix on the shelf. For a moment you hesitate and then grab the container, making a mug of cocoa. It’s a bit of an odd choice, since it has zero caffeine and it’s August, but it feels like the right thing to do.
The smell of the chocolate immediately settles you, and you feel more at ease than you have in days. You have a theory why, but you try not to think too deeply about it as you continue your morning routine.
You sit at your desk to begin working for the day. You normally love that you have a completely remote job as a data analyst. But it’s a rough morning for you. You’re restless, completely unable to sit still, like there’s ants crawling under your skin.
Nothing gets done, so when it hits 1PM and you still haven’t crossed a single thing off your to-do list you decide to leave the apartment to get lunch. You pack up your laptop, thinking maybe your afternoon will be more productive with a change of scenery.
You grab a sandwich from the local deli and walk to the nearby park. You sit at a table next to some rose bushes. Their fragrance is strong, and it settles you. You sit for hours, completing all the work you wanted to accomplish that day.
It’s obvious why the roses helped you feel better. For the same reason the chocolate smell calmed you that morning. You’re embarrassed that Harry’s scent, even just reminders of it, has such an effect on you, but you lean into it.
There’s a boutique by the park that you know sells candles and other scented things, so you go in with one goal in mind. After smelling way more candles than is probably socially acceptable you find one that you think will work. It’s woodsy, and just a little floral. It’s missing the chocolate component, but you figure it’s as close to Harry’s scent as you’ll get. It also comes as a reed diffuser and a room spray, so you purchase all three.
That night before bed you set up the diffuser and have another cup of hot chocolate. You finally sleep peacefully through the night and wake up refreshed.
You follow this routine all week, switching your normal tea to hot chocolate, working outside by the rose bushes, and ensuring your home smells like Harry.
On Friday night you head over to Violet’s house.  The night starts off as usual, take out and a movie that you barely watch as you catch up and talk about your weeks.
“So, how was the concert?” Amelia asks.
For a second you nearly lie. Almost say, oh it was great and show the videos Jada took for you. But they’re your best friends, the people you can tell anything. You take a deep breath and say, “He definitely puts on a good show. But unfortunately, I didn’t really see it.”
“What do you mean?” Violet asks.
“There was this alpha in the audience,” you begin, and your friends immediately tense up, knowing where the story is likely to go.
“I noticed him the second I got there and moved to blend in with the crowd. I thought I had lost him, but I went with some girls to the bathroom and apparently he’d followed me and waited outside. When I walked out of the bathroom he used his alpha voice and made me follow him to a secluded area.”
“What a bastard!” Amelia interjects and Violet nods her head in agreement.
They see the tears welling in your eyes and move closer, each wrapping an arm around you before you continue.
“Once he got me alone he used his alpha voice again. I couldn’t move or say anything. He tried to scent me, and honestly was probably going to do a lot worse things. But I went into a half-drop or something.” You pause, taking a deep breath and they hold you even tighter to comfort you.
After calming down again you say, “And then things got weird.”
“I’m sorry, they weren’t weird already?” Amelia asks.
“Honestly, no. They were awful, but as an omega, not unexpected. What was weird, was waking up literally sitting in Mitch Rowlands lap with Sarah Jones and Harry Styles watching me from across the hall.”
“Harry Styles?” Violet says incredulously.
“Yes,” you reply.
“The Harry Styles?” Ameila adds.
“Yes, guys. The real Harry Styles.”
“Why was he there? Wouldn’t security be taking care of the situation? Not the performer?”
You realize Amelia makes a good point. Why did Harry and his band members respond to this incident? Wouldn’t it make more sense that they stay far away from potentially dangerous situations?
After thinking for a moment, you say, “He and Sarah are alphas. They probably sensed something was wrong and came to help. I wasn’t able to say anything, but I was able to send out some distress signals, so I guess they responded to that.”
“And this all happened before the show?” Violet asks.
“It was while the opener was on. And then they took me to Harry’s dressing room to talk to a police officer and have a medic check that I was ok. I was planning to go back to the crowd once they finished but Harry wouldn’t let me.”
“Wouldn’t let you? Sounds like another controlling alpha,” Violet says.
“No, no, that was bad wording. I mean, yea, he didn’t want me going back to the crowd again but not in a controlling way. He wanted to protect me. He said his alpha was still worried about me and he wouldn’t be able to perform if he didn’t know that I was safe.”
“Wow, that’s kind of intense,” Amelia says. “Are you okay?”
“I’m okay. Mostly. I think.”
They both give you a look and you explain, “I mean, it sucked, obviously. I hate that alphas have that kind of control over me. And I keep thinking about how much worse it could have been. But nothing too bad ended up happening. Plus, I got to meet Harry Styles so that’s a win.”
“What was he really like?” Violet questions.
“Well, he’s just as kind as everyone says. Most of the time he gave me space since he’s also an alpha, but at one point he held my hand for like, a second, and it felt like it’d been burned. I literally couldn’t believe his skin had touched mine. And the way his alpha was still on edge even when the danger was gone, I still don’t know how to explain that. Plus, his scent, God-” you cut yourself off before you can embarrass yourself about your obsession.
“Oh no, you can’t stop there!” Amelia says. “What is it like?”
For some reason you want to keep the specifics to yourself, so you reply, “I dunno, but it has this warmth to it, and like, a fresh outdoorsy smell. Anyway, uhm, I watched the concert on a TV in his dressing room. He’s giving me some tickets for any of the other New York shows, and I want you two and Rachel to come so we need to pick a date.”
You guys start to look at your calendars and write down a few of the shows that will work.
“When I see Rachel tomorrow I’ll see if any of these days work for her too,” you say once you have a short list.
“Does she know what happened?” Violet asks.
“Not yet. She doesn’t even know I’m an omega. I’m going to tell her everything tomorrow.”
“Are you comfortable with that?”
“Yea, I mean I trust her. She’s a good friend. She’s just a newer friend and it takes me awhile to open up about my, you know, status.”
“If you need us, for anything at all, you call or text and we’re there okay?”
You nod and smile, knowing that you have the two best friends in the world and that everything will be alright. You guys finish the night with some ice cream, and if your friends are curious about you picking chocolate when strawberry has always been your favorite, they don’t comment on it.
Lunch with Rachel the next day is a little more nerve wracking, but by the end you feel so much better. You explain everything about yourself and what happened at the concert the week before. She’s more knowledgeable about omegas than you expected, and she explains her favorite cousin is an omega.
“Y/N, I’m sorry I encouraged you to go alone. I know how dangerous outings like that are. Seriously I think a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders when my cousin officially bonded her alpha and had protection from him.”
“Rach, I’m a big girl, I chose to go alone. I thought my suppressants and scent blockers would have hidden my secret, but sometime alphas can still literally sniff us out.”
“Do you think the medicines are losing their effectiveness? Like you’ve built an immunity cause you’ve been on them so long?”
“They’re supposed to last a decade before that happens, I’ve only been on these eight years.”
“Probably couldn’t hurt to check though, right?”
You agree with her and make a mental note to at least put a call out to your doctor soon.
“And no concerts alone, got it?” You smile at her protectiveness and nod in agreement.
“Definitely not alone, but I am being given tickets for us to go to another show since I basically missed the first one.”
“Seriously? When?”
“I invited Violet and Amelia, and we have some dates that work for us. Can you do any of them too?”
You settle on September 10th and you text Jada later that day to let her know. She responds almost immediately which surprises you because you assume they’re getting ready for his show that night.
After talking to all your friends you’re feeling much better than you have all week. Plus, knowing you get to see Harry’s show soon has you excited. You don’t think you’ll get to see him again, but maybe just being in the same room will be enough to settle your omega.  And hopefully it can show your omega how truly unattainable the alpha is, and you can stop obsessing over him.
***
Harry’s pacing in his dressing room. It’s Saturday, night five of his NYC residency, and exactly one week since he met Y/N. And it’s been one week since he’s seen Y/N. And his alpha is restless.
“Harry, I’m sure she’s fine,” Mitch says firmly, ever the voice of reason.
“Then why hasn’t she texted Jada back? It’s been days!”
“She probably just hasn’t been able to coordinate with her friends yet,” Sarah says as she tries to soothe him.
Harry sits on the couch and sighs. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I don’t know why I’m like this right now. Why I’m so worried about her.”
“Well, it’s probably because she’s an omega. And you are a good alpha. Your instinct is to take care of her. And she nearly got hurt. Here. At your show. And I’m thinking you feel like you are at least partially responsible, which is dumb, because you’re not. But you’re a good person, and you care deeply, which makes you maybe a bit emotional about things like this?”
Harry takes in Sarah’s words. She’s right. He didn’t want to admit it out loud, but he feels guilty. He’s devastated that this happened at his show, a place that he always thought was safe for his fans.
“What if it’s more than that?” Harry asks quietly.
“What do you mean?” Mitch questions.
“What if she’s not just an omega?”
Sarah and Mitch expect him to continue, so when he just sits there silently they share a confused look.
“Care to explain?” Mitch says, encouraging him to open up to them.
“I feel like maybe she’s special. I mean, my alpha has definitely taken a liking to her. I was ready to rip that other alphas throat out when I saw his hands on her. And the only way I was able to do the concert was because I knew she was basically locked away from everyone else with security outside the door. I had to know she was safe. And I hate not knowing if she’s okay now. Plus, there was a moment.”
“A moment?” Sarah presses.
 “Yea I uhm, we were alone in the room right before the show. And I held her hand. Just to like, reassure her I guess. It was only a second, but I swear to God there were sparks. I’ve never felt anything like it, especially not from just holding hands.”
“Do you feel connected to her, or is your alpha connected to her omega?” Sarah asks to clarify.
“I honestly don’t know. Normally I can separate the two, but the situation brought my alpha out more than usual.”
Before anyone can ask more questions there’s a knock at the door.
“Come in!” Harry calls out and Jada enters the room.
“Hey Harry. Y/N just texted, she and three friends are planning to come to the show on September 10th if that still works.”
“Yes, of course! Please send her four VIP tickets. In a box or somewhere sectioned off if possible. And passes to come backstage before the show, okay?”
“Got it, I’ll send her everything they’ll need.”
“Wonderful. Thank you, Jada.”
She smiles, waving to Mitch and Sarah as she walks out of the room.
“Well, there you go,” Sarah says. “She is obviously fine if she’s texting and making plans. And you’ll see her again on the 10th!”
“If your alpha can last three weeks,” Mitch says teasingly.
“Shut up,” Harry drawls out, smiling at his best friend.
Mitch may think it’s a joke, but Harry truly doesn’t know if he can go three more weeks without seeing Y/N. Maybe three weeks will be enough to calm down his alpha, and shake this obsession he has with the lovely omega.
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AN: Thanks again for reading this story! Chapter 3 is already in the works, and I am very excited for the Harry & Y/N reunion.
Taglist: @akkatz @pandeebearstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@theekyliepage@numafarawayglxy @booberry019-blog @hillzrry@ssareidbby @gem1712 @acesofspadess@houseofdilfs@shaquille-0atmeal-1@kissitnhekitchen @amateurduck @poguestyleskye@n0vaj3an@snwells@drunk-teens-doing-drugs ; @fdl305 @creativelyeva @daphnesutton @selluequestrian @lovingfurypanda @stardream14 @tbsloneely @eversincehs1
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i think you're onto something with the romance novels world and plot points needing to mirror the kind of outlandishness of the love story. bc the main characters are already inherently acting absurd just by falling madly in love in a month or whatever and then if you add in the contrivances of romance tropes, it starts to feel like whiplash trying to pretend the characters live in any sort of grounded "normal" world. Like when the author adds in a family conflict subplot where the MC is like in absolute shambles because her mom said something slightly passive aggressive at lunch. that reads as more jarring to me than like conflict being something ridiculous that her mom doesn't want her being a marine biologist bc they come from a long line of fishmongers. Give me absurd drama to match the over the top dialogue and character emotions, I knew it would be unrealistic it's a romance novel! I guess this applies more to romcoms, but the same would apply I think to an analogous serious scenario. Or at least that's my take on it
okay so having just finished genuinely the most boring romance novel I have ever read in my LIFE I'm going to expand on this a little so thank you for sending an ask that gives me such a great platform to do that
I personally generally prefer a romance that just gets fucking silly with it, like really outlandish. A Lady for the Duke (Alexis Hall) is obviously the dream, being a whole swoony historical trans-affirming fantasy, but contemporary fake relationship stories can also be fun in their sheer ridiculousness, like Love, Hate, and Clickbait (Liz Bowery), which I actually liked, and Unfortunately Yours (Tessa Bailey), which I did not like but was very funny. and let's not forget queen Helen Hoang's Bride Test, which has a premise that dances perilously close to human trafficking but all works out in the end!!!
BUT HAVING SAID THAT. I don't think that something needs to be totally implausible to be a good romance. two of my very favorites romance novels anywhere ever are Helen Hoang's Heart Principle (no one should be surprised Hoang is on her twice I adore her) and Akwaeke Emezi's You Made a Fool of Death with Your Beauty. both of these books are very grounded in reality but with very uncommon situations to heighten emotions and add urgency; in Hoang's case it's a character's adult autism diagnosis + death of a parent and in Emezi's case it's a very sudden and #problematic attraction coming out of absolutely nowhere. the stakes are very real, mostly centering around being true to yourself v disappointing your family, but the circumstances are still wild enough to make you say "god DAMN" and keep turning pages. hell, I'll even be extremely generous and include Mistakes Were Made (Meryl Wilsner) which is kind of a flop but does have the intriguing premise of "what if you were fucking a milf but her kid was YOUR BEST FRIEND and it was a secret?"
those are like the two sweet spots TO ME, and this book I just read (which was Thank You for Sharing by Rachel Runya Katz, I feel so bad putting it on blast but I know people are going to ask) really solidified it for me because TYFS didn't fall into either of those categories. I'm going to say something absolutely insane, which is that multiple times while I was reading it I found myself wishing that the book was fanfic, because on its own it just... didn't bring a lot to the table? it falls into the grounded category but doesn't really bring any of those heightened stakes to the story, it's just 330 pages of people in their late twenties complaining about dating and their office jobs. if I wanted that I could just ask my group chat! there's nothing particularly particularly gripping about watching made up strangers do it!
but then I was like oh hang on... if this was two fictional characters who are usually fighting with swords or throwing cars at each other or something this would be so gripping. it's literally the coffee shop AU principle, right? like seeing people in a very mundane setting having an office job and going to a bar is very shrimpteresting when they're normally defusing space bombs. I was explaining this to my housemates and I couldn't think of a straight couple to apply it to (the book is m/f) so I said Naruto and Sasuke, which is crazy because I've never seen a single episode of Naruto, but like. idk Naruto being a museum curator who has to work with Sasuke, a marketing specialist who he had beef with a summer camp 14 years ago, sounds kind of compelling, right? definitely more than just two people I don't know.
there's a post on here that I think about a lot that talks about why advertising a story with tropes doesn't work for original fiction as well as it does for fan fic because knowing the tropes is more helpful when you already have a sense of investment in the characters and their personalities, and I think this is related to that! I think sometimes you NEED to have a wider sense of scope for the characters for them to be interesting in a very mundane setting!
ANYWAY. much to consider, etc.
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kingofsummer93 · 4 months
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Once Cursed, Twice Shy
Part 2 of my gift to @velidewrites for @acotargiftexchange!
Summary:
Don't mix vodka and magic, they said. It will end badly, they said.
Elain's never been particularly superstitious, but when a ghost from her past comes crashing back into her life, she realizes that the old saying might have been true after all.
And that she might have (accidentally and definitely not on purpose) cursed her ex-boyfriend.
Inspired by the Ex Hex by Rachel Hawkins.
Chapter 2: A Stumble Through the Flames
Ao3 Chapter 1
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A/N: Let me know if you'd like to be added to or removed from my tag list!
Present Day, Yorkshire
Lucien stared at the imposing manor in front of him, its many windows as dark as the memories this place dredged up. The dark stone walls crawled with ivy, turrets reaching for the sky proudly. Even though he couldn’t see it from where he stood he could picture the overgrown, neglected garden woven through with narrow pathways, and the sloping hills that lead to the woods beyond. There were rumors about those woods- whispers of werewolves and magpies, legends about children getting lost and never being found. It was all nonsense, of course. The only monsters around here lived in the manor house.
Ironically those supposedly cursed woods had been where Lucien had felt most at home when he was a child. He had spent countless hours in his youth memorizing the twists and turns of the dense paths until he could have found his way home blindfolded. Inside the manor there was perpetual silence, but it was anything but a comfortable one. It was a brittle silence, one that could snap at any moment and lead to something even worse. The forest, by contrast, was never still. There was something comforting about the quiet energy of the woods- the rustle of underbrush, the distant call of an animal.
There would be no traipsing through the woods today, however. Lucien exhaled a deep breath, as though the house he was facing was a prison he was willingly entering and not his childhood home.
In some ways, he supposed, it was both. Except he had the added benefit of not knowing why the hell he’d be summoned here. At least in prison he’d know what to expect.
As he walked up the wide stone steps flanked by gargoyles he could have sworn their eyes followed him. He had hated them since he was a child, unnerved by the carved eyes that seemed to judge him and find him lacking.
Failure, one said, flame curling out of its stone mouth.
Weak, said another, claw-tipped hands gripping the pillar it appraised him from.
Cursed, declared a third, its wings spread wide as if poised to take flight.
If Lucien had the luxury of wings he would have flown out of this hellhole a long time ago.
The front doors opened and closed on a phantom wind as he stepped inside, shutting him into the gloom of his past.
**
He’d managed to stay away for a full year, this time. He would have gotten away with longer, were it not for this summons- and the yearning to see his mother in the flesh. Talking to her through a scribing board was not the same, and the guilt he felt for all but abandoning her was made worse by the way her face shone with happiness every time he called.
She was the only reason he hadn’t cut all ties to this wretched family, if he was honest. If it wasn’t for her he would have cut his losses and ran as far as he could. Probably with a different last name.
These summons always followed a predictable pattern, and this one was no different. A stiff family dinner, followed by some sort of announcement that included either an assignment for one of them, or, on occasion, a punishment. For Lucien it was usually more of the latter and less of the former.
Dread coiled in his stomach. Surely he couldn’t have done anything to deserve his father’s wrath this time? He couldn’t think of anything, but then again, he and his father had very different ideas of what deserved punishment.
“So,” Kalan drawled as the dinner plates were replaced with desert, “still living in homeless shelters?”
His twin sniggered from across the table, his mirth quickly turning into a cough as Eris narrowed his gaze on the pair. “Watch it,” his elder brother warned.
“Working for youth shelters. Managing them, as you very well know. You’ll be sorry to hear that I’m able to keep a roof over my head without anyone’s help.” Unlike the rest of you, he silently added. It was a dangerous jab, but if his father heard he didn’t seem to care. Yet.
“Lucien’s been in Australia,” his mother said proudly, reaching out to grab his hand affectionately. Lucien could feel the bones in her fingers, so brittle he might be able to snap them just by squeezing. She was so thin, even more than last time he saw her.
“Australia?” Liam prodded, stupidly. “Why would you go to that hellhole?”
Lucien cleared his throat, willing himself not to rise to the bait. It was possible that Liam was too stupid to remember, and wasn’t being malicious, but it stung all the same.
“With the regulations their magical government has been drafting, a lot of young witches have been struggling, and it’s not safe for them on the streets. I have connections there, so it seemed a good place to focus since the London branches have been running smoothly.”
“What the hell kind of connections do you have in Australia?” Kalan asked, looking truly baffled.
“Kalan,” Eris warned.
But it was too late. By now all six of his brothers and, regrettably, his father, were all staring at him. His mother’s hand tightened around his.
Lucien took a deep breath through his nose. Losing his temper would do him no good, he was painfully aware of that, but damn if his good-for-nothing brothers didn’t make it difficult.
“Because of my wife,” he managed to get out through gritted teeth. His hands were shaking, making the fork he was holding clank against his plate. He dropped it with a clatter. “Remember her? Or I guess you wouldn’t, considering she was never allowed to come here.”
The silence that fell was deafening. It seemed to press around him, buzzing in his ears and crawling down his throat until he thought he might suffocate.
“Darling-”
“Don’t bother, Lillian,” his father snapped, cutting her off. Lucien stiffened but refused to meet his father’s hateful gaze. “If he insists on mourning the likes of her there’s nothing we can say to change his mind.”
Lucien laughed bitterly. The likes of her. Jes had been a better person than any of them combined, but things like that hardly mattered to his family. It didn’t matter that she had been kind, and loving, with a soul as generous as it was wild. The only thing that mattered was that she wasn’t a true witch. Her great-great-grandmother had been a witch, but the magic had petered out over the generations until the only thing that was left for Jess to inherit was her ancestor’s bold, unusual coloring, and eyes that could see particularly well in the dark.
Lucien had hardly cared about her lack of magic. How could he, given his own predicament? In the end when her blood had flowed it had been just as red as anybody else’s. They were all mortal, no matter how much they liked to delude themselves with talk of bloodlines and magic purity. They all bled the same.
“You know what? If it’s all the same to you, I’m going to go now.” He pushed his chair back with a screech of wood on stone. His face burned with the combination of humiliation and rage that being around his family always kindled. The hurt that he knew would be on his mother’s face only made him feel worse. “It’s been a pleasure, as always.”
“Lucien, please stay,” his mother implored, her voice like a balm to his raw nerves.
He turned to her, clutching both her too-thin hands in one of his own. “I’m sorry, I just…” He swallowed hard as his father sighed impatiently behind him.
“We’re not done here. Sit down.”
Lucien whirled to look at his father, a biting retort on the tip of his tongue, but the look of cruel amusement in his father’s cold amber eyes made him freeze. He sat back down, if only because he knew if he didn’t he wouldn’t be the only one suffering Beron’s wrath. His mother didn’t need to bear any more consequences for his bad decisions.
“Christmas Solstice is coming up,” his father announced, his gaze still fixed on Lucien. At this his brothers perked up, distracted from the momentary entertainment of Lucien’s torment. “It’s time once again for one of us to go to Maple Glen to power up the ley lines.”
Lucien reflexively locked eyes with Eris. His brother was as coolly unruffled as ever, though there was something in his gaze that sent ice trickling down Lucien’s spine. If he hadn’t known that Eris wasn’t capable of such an emotion he might have thought his brother looked afraid.
Lucien couldn’t make sense of it. Powering up the ley lines was routine business, usually handled by Eris. It was seen as an honor- and so, naturally, he had never been asked to do it. The only time he’d ever even seen the village was when he’d accompanied Eris on his bi-yearly trip a decade earlier.
Not that he particularly cared to think about that- or to return to Maple Glen, for that matter.
As the silence dragged on Lucien became acutely aware of his father’s gaze still focused on him. Realization hit him like a slap in the face, and for a moment he was so stunned he forgot to hold his tongue.
“You’re sending me to Maple Glen?” It was so surprising he couldn’t wrap his mind around the implication. One thing was clear, though- whatever his father’s motivations were, this was neither a kindness nor an honor.
The twins scoffed in unison, launching into protests and jeers.
“Surely not!”
“Don’t be daft!”
“Shut it,” Eris growled.
“Indeed,” Beron drawled, leaning back in his chair as if this was immensely amusing to him. “It’s high time you make yourself useful to this family, don’t you think?”
Lucien swallowed thickly, his palms suddenly sweating. He had his own motivations for staying away from Maple Glen, but apart from that…
“What if he can’t?” Branlar blurted, looking equal parts baffled and outraged. “He can barely light a fire! How is he supposed to power the ley lines?”
And there it was, delivered with the tact and stealth of a battering ram.
“Fuck right off, yeah?” Lucien growled.
They all knew his outrage was mostly for show. Because in fact he could barely light a fire, and it usually left him drained enough to need a nap afterwards. It was his family’s greatest shame- the fact that he, a Vanserra, could barely wield more magic than a carnival magician. That the flame he had once manipulated without so much as breaking a sweat now left him physically drained, the inferno that used to course through his veins reduced to mere embers.
It hadn’t always been this way. He’d once been just as powerful as his brothers, if not more so. Flame, spells, air and light manipulation- it had all come so easily to him. And then, ten years ago, it had dwindled, like a tap being slowly turned off until only occasional drops remained.
He’d sought help from witches all over the world, had performed all manners of spells and cleansings and curse-breaking rituals he could find. None of it has worked. Some said he was cursed, or unlucky. His father liked to say that he was simply weak.
Lucien had despaired at first, desperate to find a cure and get his magic back. It had felt like not being able to breathe, the absence of magic like a phantom pain that kept him up at night.
Until he’d met Jes. Being with her made him forget to mourn his lost magic. She was magic, a new, wonderful brand of it that he couldn’t get enough of. Her laughter was a bonfire, her touch a spell, and he was bewitched by her from the start.
And then she’d been taken away from him. Like everything good in his life always was. He should have known it couldn’t last, really.
He should have stayed away from her, kept her safe from his bad luck. Just as he’d chosen to do with Maple Glen. That way he would have been broken-hearted, but maybe she’d still be alive.
“Father,” Eris started carefully, “powering the ley lines is quite taxing, are you quite sure…” Something about his careful tone told Lucien this wasn’t the first time he’d argued with their father about it. He didn’t know whether to be grateful or insulted.
Beron waved dismissively. “He’s a Vanserra. We’ve been doing this for centuries. Why shouldn’t he be able to?” The warning was clear. This wasn’t just a test, but an ultimatum- if he failed, he likely wouldn’t be welcomed here again.
Lucien chanced a glance at his mother. Her eyes, so like his own, were strangely calm. She reached for him again, and though her grip was still brittle, this time it came with a warmth that spread like a cloak over his skin.
He wasn’t just a Vanserra. It was her flame that he and his brothers wielded, and that power still flowed through his veins. No matter how badly he’d always fit in with his brothers, he would always be her son. And he’d be damned if he let his hateful father keep him away from her.
“Fine,” Lucien snapped. “I’ll go to Maple Glen. I went with Eris once, I watched him do it.”
“It’s hardly the same-“
“I said I’d do it, alright?” he snapped.
Even if it meant going back to the one place he swore he’d never step foot in again.
Even if it meant seeing her again.
**
Present Day- Maple Glen
Elain adjusted the beaded shawl around her shoulders as the customer seated across from her fiddled nervously.
“First time getting your fortune read?” she asked, giving her voice the breathy, self-important air she always put on when she was working.
“Yeah. I, um…don’t really know what I’m doing here, to be honest with you.”
Neither do I, Elain wanted to tell him, though she could hardly admit that. Instead she smiled at him indulgently.
“Don’t worry, dear. The tea leaves will tell us everything we need to know.”
The man wiped his palms on his jeans, drowned his cup with a wince, and pushed it towards her almost reluctantly. He looked so worried that Elain felt bad taking his money. She often felt bad, but as Vassa liked to remind her, she wasn’t completely scamming people. She did have the power of sight- it just didn’t come in the form of tea leaves and tarot cards. It wasn’t her fault her visions never manifested while she was with a customer.
“Now,” she declared, pulling the cup towards her, “was there something specific you were wondering about?”
The man’s eyes flitted around as though he was embarrassed to meet her gaze. For a second Elain thought he might bolt. That happened sometimes with the more skittish tourists. Too bad she asked for payment upfront.
“Well, yes…” He trailed off, took a breath to steel himself, and launched in. “It’s my wife. She’s…I think she’s hiding something from me.”
Oh. That hit a little close to home.
There was a shuffle of footsteps from outside the curtained area that blocked off Madam Fawn’s Fortune Salon from the rest of the shop, indicating that Vassa had decided to snoop. Damn her and her witchy hearing.
Elain squinted through the thick glasses that gave her eyes an unnatural, bug-like appearance, peering into the tea dregs. “Ok,” she said slowly, careful to keep her voice neutral. “And what makes you think that?”
“Well, she’s always jumpy and defensive, like she thinks I’m about to accuse her of something. She knows all my passwords but she gets mad if I even check the time on her phone…”
Elain’s gut twisted. This was all too familiar for comfort. She squirmed despite herself, and the man’s eyes went wide as he tracked the motion.
“That’s bad, right?” He gulped. “I knew it was bad before even coming here.”
This was the problem with this fortune telling business. It was almost too easy. The customers always ended up doing most of the work for her. Even when she tried to lay out a bright future for them, they always found a way to declare some sort of tragedy before it had even happened.
“Well, not necessarily. What does your wife do for work? I’m seeing a source of outside stress that may have been affecting you both…” she trailed off and peered deeper into the cup, frowning in concentration for good measure.
“Oh. She’s a doctor. Pediatrics.”
Bingo.
“Ahh, yes. Well, this time of year is especially stressful with all the influenza going around, isn’t it? I’m sensing this vacation you’re on was just the thing she needed…”
Ten minutes later the man was thanking her profusely, having been assured that there was no divorce in his future and that his wife was simply stressed at work. Elain kept her polite smile firmly in place until the bells above the shop door jingled with his exit, and then she sagged.
“Poor sod,” she said sadly, locking the door and turning the closed sign.
“Well, she’s definitely cheating on him,” Vassa agreed. The cash register clanged cheerful as she pushed it closed.
“Or she’s a secret witch,” Elain grumbled. She unwrapped the beaded shawl from around her shoulders, transforming back from Madam Fawn- Fortune Teller to Elain Archeron- Broke Witch. Broke, single, approaching thirty, and technically slightly homeless witch, to be exact.
Vassa shot her a dark look. “I thought we weren’t talking about that anymore.”
“We’re not!” Elain grabbed a broom and briskly set about sweeping the stray herbs and detritus from the day, avoiding Vassa’s knowing gaze. “I wonder which one he would react better to, though…”
“Elain!”
Elain threw her hands up in surrender. “Fine, fine.”
Vassa hovered halfway towards the front door, slipping a wool hat over her golden-red curls. “Are you, though?”
“Am I what?” Elain snapped her fingers and her piles of dirt disappeared into thin air. One of the many perks of living in a magic shop was the marked improvement on her spellwork.
“Fine?”
Elain sighed, finally meeting her friend’s eyes. “Yes. I’m fine.” How many times would she have to repeat it before she believed it? “I was just rattled by what that guy said.”
“Are you sure? Do you want to come over for dinner tonight? Jurian won’t mind!”
Elain grabbed her broom again, shooing Vassa towards the door. “Go, you mother hen! I’m fine!”
Vassa’s bright laughter rang out over the tinkling of the door, and then with a final click Elain was alone, enveloped in silence. Another evening alone, with nothing but her thoughts and a shop full of (mostly) fake magical artifacts to keep her company. The cat skeleton curled up next to the cash register hissed at her, as if affronted she had forgotten him.
“Oh shut up, you pile of bones.”
The cat stretched languidly and then turned away from her, letting out a displeased meowl for good measure.
Of course even an enchanted cat skeleton would reject her. Males of any species always did.
With a sigh she trudged up the stairs towards the tiny apartment above the shop and the empty evening it contained. Even after almost a year of living here she still called it the apartment and not her apartment. It technically belonged to one of the Maple Glen Coven’s elders, who let Elain live there in exchange for her services as a fortune teller for the shop. It had seemed like too good a deal to pass up when Amren had first offered it to her, especially with Vassa occasionally volunteering at the shop. Suddenly they were nineteen again, two young witches with their whole lives ahead of them.
Except that they weren’t, and after almost a year here, Elain felt stuck.
She wasn’t supposed to be living in a tiny, slightly musty apartment above a tourist shop on Main Street. Merlin, she wasn’t supposed to be living in Maple Glen at all.
Deep down she knew there was no shame in coming back home with her tail between her legs, but that’s what it felt like. Shameful, and embarrassing, like she had failed not just herself but other people’s perceptions of her as well.
She was supposed to be living in one of the manor houses on the outskirts of Salem, married to the son of a wealthy local family. Not here, with only a magically enhanced cat skeleton for company.
As soon as Elain’s feet hit the second floor landing, a noise from downstairs made her freeze. A whoosh, followed by the slight tingling sensation that always surrounded magic. She felt it raising the hair on the back of her neck, that awareness of a new source of power reaching out for her own.
Like calls to like.
She crept back down the stairs slowly, her mind racing ahead of her with possibilities. They’d never had a break in, but there was a first time for everything. That rush of power she’d felt, though- that couldn't have come from a townie trying to steal a few decks of tarot cards.
As she reached the bottom of the stairs she saw that the main shop floor was illuminated by a faint green glow, and a warmth was spreading through the darkened room. Elain relaxed as she saw the emerald flames crackling merrily in the hearth behind the cash register. Vassa had probably left something behind once again and decided to Apparate instead of walking back.
Elain crossed her arms and smirked, waiting for her friend to step through the flames, when a sharp inhale behind her made her heart stutter in her chest. She whirled, grabbing her discarded broom and brandishing it like a baton.
“Who’s there?” She tried to sound menacing, but the tremor in her voice was less than convincing. “Vassa? Is that you?”
“Elain?”
She didn't have time to register that the intruder (the male intruder) knew her name before the flames from the hearth fluttered out, smothering them in sudden darkness. From the faint glow of the street lights outside Elain could make out a shape moving in front of her, and she raised her broom higher.
“Where am I? Shit, I can’t see…”
Her heart gave another stutter, except this time it was from the shock of recognition and not fear. There was something familiar about that voice, a deep rumbling timber that she’d never forget as long as she lived. It was the same voice that still occasionally showed up in her dreams, murmuring sweet nothings in her ear. The voice that had made her swoon and laugh in equal measure. The voice that had taught her love, and then heartbreak.
But no, it couldn’t be. Surely she was mistaken. Surely…
Suddenly she very fervently wished that she was being robbed by a townie.
There was a loud crash as the figure stumbled into a display case, sending a shelf full of light-up crystals tumbling to the ground. They lit up as they hit the floor, bathing the room in a technicolor array of jewel-toned light.
Elain blinked in shock as the man’s features came into view, his tall frame frozen as still as she was. Golden-brown skin flashing red, then purple, then blue in the glow of the gaudy crystals. Hair the color of embers that she still remembered the texture of. And those eyes that blazed at once hot and soft, eyes that she had always thought could see right through her to the core of her soul.
“Lucien?”
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chickensarentcheap · 5 months
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Fandom: Extraction/John Wick crossover
Pairing: Esme Drummond and John Wick (platonic)
Face claims: Rachel Bilson and Keanu Reeves (obviously lol)
@tragiclyhip @munstysmind @themaradwrites @thebejeweledwatercat @youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @kmc1989 @karimac @asirensrage @residentdormouse @alisbackalleybbq @theesirenteller @ninjasawakenedmystar @mrsmungus
AFTER THE CUT:
Smiling, she raises her mug to her lips. “I’ll say it again, Jonathan; you’re a really good friend.”
“And about what you brought up…the whole ‘business proposal’ that never was…”
“Let’s not revisit that, okay? It’s not one of my finer moments. It was humiliating as hell. I’m still embarrassed. All these years later.”
“I didn’t say no because I was against it. In theory. Had it been another place, another time, another life, I would have gladly helped out.”
“I can’t believe I ever thought it was a good idea. Recruiting a friend to help out like that. I know I always wanted to be a mom, but…”
“I was flattered. That I was at the top of your list. And had things been different…had our lives been different…I wouldn’t have thought twice about going along with it. I just wanted you to know it was never about you; why I said no when you brought it up. It wasn’t because I was disgusted or thought less of you for asking. And I know you’ve probably thought it for years. That you were out of line.”
“I was, though. I was completely out of line. It’s a crazy thing to ask of someone. But thank you; for setting my mind at ease. It’s nice to know I wasn’t the issue. At least not in a bad way.”
“It wasn’t a good situation. With both of us being caught up in this life. Even if you’d walked away, I still would have been knee-deep in it. And that isn’t who you would have wanted to have a kid with. Someone like me. All the enemies I’ve made. That’s why I said no. Because you deserved so much better than that. Better than me. And I knew that guy was out there. Somewhere.”
“What’s the saying? ‘All’s well that ends well’? Had we gone that route, I never would have met Tyler. Which means I wouldn’t have Millie. And I wouldn’t give her up for anything. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Aside from her dad, of course.”
“And as far as this being a good friend? Being there the other night, all the help I’m giving now. I guess in a way, I feel owe you.”
“Not The High Table stuff again. I thought we agreed; it’s all water under the bridge.”
“I was thinking of something more important. More…personal.”
Esme smiles up at him. “Helen.”
Wick nods
She returns to looking at the window, drink clutched in both hands as fingernails repeatedly tap against the porcelain of the mug. “She was one of a kind.”
“She certainly was.”
They’d met in a coffee shop in Brooklyn, strangers living in nearly identical brownstone apartment buildings within a block and a half from one another. Two women living very different lives; Helen, a famous and world-renowned photographer, and Esme, only six months into working under The High Table. Frequenting the same cafe twice daily, their busy schedules, sought-after skills, and expertise had made anything more than warm smiles in greeting and simplistic, minor chit-chat impossible. But they had been paying attention; learning each other’s standing orders and one often treating the other. A rather simple gesture that means so much; signifying a door left open when it came to a potential friendship.
Fate intervened three months into ‘knowing’ one another; both finding themselves at the receiving end of some well-deserved downtime. An extremely rare occurrence of clear schedules that allowed them to stop, breathe, and take in the world around them. Helen was already seated when she’d spotted Esme stepping through the front door; calling out a greeting and then flashing that brilliant smile before gesturing to the various offerings on the table. It had been the start of something so beautiful; both surrounded by the sea of humanity that ruled over New York City, yet never feeling more alone. And they’d spent hours in that cafe; drinking countless cups of tea and coffee, sampling various desserts, and lamenting about ‘single girl life’ in The Big Apple. There’d been o talk of their respective careers; instead, they’d chatted about their hometowns and large yet fractured families.
After that, they’d prioritized meeting every morning, whether at the cafe, each other’s favourite breakfast spots, or even for jogs through Central Park. Helen quickly became not only her best friend, but a sister figure. Only four years separated them, but at times Helen had seemed so much older; wise, learned, brimming with positivity and always prepared with the perfect advice for any situation. Ad she’d been more of a sibling to Esme than any of her blood relatives had ever been; suffering through even her very early years with five older brothers that lived to torment her.
“I think about her all the time,” Esme swallows around the lump of emotion sitting square in her throat. “Even now, after all these years. She was my first friend…my ONLY friend...here. Outside of the circle, anyway.”
“It’s hard. Making any connections beyond all this. Most people…regular people…wouldn’t understand. Why we do what we do.”
“I’m right in the middle of it all and most of the time I don’t even understand it. And I know it sounds horrible; to say I’m at least glad she was gone before I left the city and moved to Prague. Had she been alive, I don’t know if my heart could have taken it. Saying goodbye.”
“She thought very highly of you. Always had something amazing to say about you. She valued your friendship. She would tell me that you were the sister she never had. Say how she would have given up all four of hers for one of you.”
“She was an incredible woman. Just so beautiful and so talented. And she was so perfect for you. You were perfect for EACH OTHER.”
“And that’s why I feel like I owe you. Because you were the one that brought her into my life. I got a chance at normal because of you.”
“It was merely a blind date. I just thought you’d be good together. And you were. You were so good.”
“Helen was the best thing that ever happened to me. I never thought I’d get away from this life. I thought it would always be ‘live by the gun, die by the gun’’. It never occurred to me that I could have anything more than that. Or that I even deserved to.”
“You sound so much like Tyler. The number of times he used to question the same thing; whether or not he deserved having me in his life. When really, it’s always been me that hasn’t deserved him. And considering five years ago…what I did to him…how badly I hurt him…I honestly don’t. I don’t deserve him. He should hate me. Not want anything to do with me. Yet here he is.”
“He loves you. Just as fiercely as he did back then. If not more. And there’s an extra layer to that now. You’ve made a human being together. He’s a dad again. How could he ever hate you? You’re the mother of his child. You talk about Millie being the greatest gift you’ve ever been given? I bet he’s thinking the same thing.”
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denzartriste · 19 days
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Finished book two of animorphs. And. damn do i have some thoughts
I said it about Marco but i genuinly think it's about everyone now: Love and connection is what they are fighting for. This was a Rachel book, and i love rachel so it was exiting. But also i wanted to sob at so many points. Melissa is a girl who's parents dont love her anymore because they are not her parents. A girl cries to her cat -> Another girl realizes why she's fighting. Rachel's motivation before from what i can gather was a blanket want for human kind not to die and be turned to slaves for aliens. Then, it was for a friend. One single friend, who might not count anymore but she was a friend once and isnt that all that matters? She's fighting for melissa. The Chapmans, both of them, are fighting for melissa. Yes Mrs Chapman wanted to join them but what the hell is want. What is want, when faced with aliens who will take you anyways. Is want deciding that fighting would lead to nothing? Is that what want is supposed to be? Is want fear, at the core of your heart, because the people you love will be hurt no matter what? No.
Mrs Chapman couldnt want for anything then, she was weak and scared. Mr Chapman is a volantary host, like his wife, but that is misleading to say. He made a deal, he said that he would not fight back if they dont take his daughter. If they leave Melissa alone, if they leave her free, he will give his freedom - with shaking legs he will give his god damn freedom and with shaking legs and a tongue he has not used for who knows how long now he will fight for Melissa when Vesser Three goes back on his deal.
He could fight, he could doom his host out of petty vengance but that's stupid - he wont win that, but he won the freedom of his daughter. He won it twice, by giving up his own.
Mrs Chapman tried to strangle herself - the body being possesed by an alien, this is no longer herself - when she learnt that they would get Melissa. Both of the chapmans fight go to their daughter and now so does Rachels. She slips her an anonymous note at gymnastic and tells her she is loved she is, she is loved and her parents loves her. Rachel went back into a situation that could kill her - that nearly did kill her - to comfort melissa.
Also, sorry sorry but i put this under a cut you can only blame yourself, the way the book uses fear is still great. The morphs and the way they work are fucking awesome, sorry for talking so much about them on my minecraft blog i've literally done nothing else today expect read eat watch a couple youtube videos and read again. I like the theme of the fact they're all fighting for love and chapter three(?)'s ending line about the fact tobias will always be a hawk made me scream.
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rachelsummerswasright · 3 months
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pov rachel finally gets the phoenix force foreverever
 Prophecies of the Starchilde named Askani have been popping up all over the Andromeda galaxy for months now. The child of life will tame life. The lost daughter of time will finally take her place and her mantle as she should have so many years ago. 
 The thing is, Rachel was the Phoenix, she did her time and the world said fuck you; no thanks. She was the true Phoenix they said, until the White Phoenix came along twice after she had fucked off. That hurt. Also her girlfriend had given up on her and started fucking Colossus. That hurt too. 
 Rachel went through a lot of pain to get to where she was today, had to do a lot of processing and let go of a lot of shit. And NOW the Phoenix Force was calling for her? Nah. No thanks. Too little, too late. The heroes fuckin’ journey. She went through one hell of a journey to even get to where she was before and that wasn't enough? 
 Scared that it would fuck her life up again if she dared to take it, Rachel ignored and avoided the Phoenix Force – doing everything in her power to stay away from it all while trying to lead the X-Men on a perilous journey home from the farthest reaches of the universe. This journey ends with success, but at the cost of her own life. Rachel sacrificed herself for the final push and gets the team home. 
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hologramcowboy · 1 year
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https://youtu.be/jVR2zUUz30c
https://variety.com/2017/tv/news/one-tree-hill-mark-schwahn-harassment-assault-1202617918
I think you’re on to something regarding Danneel and Mark’s situation. The first link is an old interview of Danneel’s, and at one point she talks about Mark Schwahn as though the two of them are pretty close. The second is a Variety article about Hilarie Burton and Danneel’s experiences with Schwahn. Notice how Danneel doesn’t mention Jensen in the official story told to Variety, but did when recounting the story on a podcast (?) said he had to rescue her from Schwahn.
I’ve never wanted to voice my thoughts regarding the Danneel and Mark Schwahn situation because I don’t want to be someone who contributes to the problem of women not being believed when they speak out against sexual harassment, and it’s clear that the rest of the cast isn’t lying when they talk about Mark being a creep in various ways. And I do think Danneel spoke the truth about Mark…just not the full truth.
Despite what Danneel and her fans would like you to think, she wasn’t a main character or the fourth “drama queen”. There are 187 episodes of OTH, Danneel appeared in 47 of them and was only credited as a series regular for one season. What is interesting about her role however, was that she was the only cheerleader/female OTH student who was consistently showcased outside of the main trio (Hilarie, Sophia, Bethany Joy). Most other girls only got a few episodes. Based on this and the way she’s spoken in interviews, I think she got her gig as Rachel through the casting couch, and was happy to keep it up as long as Mark Schwahn kept her on the show. However, sometime around the fifth season (which aired in 2008) she ended her relationship/partnership/affair with Mark, my best guesses being because of her relationship with Jensen or she thought she didn’t need him for her career anymore. She gets written off the show as a junkie, presumably never to be seen again…until she comes back again for season 7 (which aired Sept. 2009-May 2010). Why would she return if she had been the victim of years of sexual harassment? The normal explanations as to why a woman would return to a hostile workplace don’t add up. It’s not like she needed the money since she had Jensen’s wallet, or that she was contractually obligated to. She didn’t need the job because she was at the “high point” of her career at this time. Hilarie left the show after season 6 (due to Mark’s predatory behavior), so it’s not like she was returning in solidarity with her friend and fellow victim. Things just don’t match up. And her stories about Mark are very different than the experiences of Hilarie, Sophia and Bethany Joy. They seem a lot more…intimate. They read like Danneel was playing along and then once she said no (and she had every right to, I’m not shaming her for that) he lashed out because he thought whatever they had was genuine and not purely business on her part.
At about 1:04 she mentions Schwahn and yes, she seems pretty close with him.
Want to add that all Actresses I know that have experienced the hell of being abused by monsters like him took the battle to court and never used the situation for clout bur rather to bring awareness. Whereas from Danneel's statements about Schwahn I get the sense she was trying to show people how "wanted" she was as she repeatedly mentions episodes in which he goes after her where she sleeps. Which raises a few questions:
While Mark could easily have access to hotel information, where did he get her home address?
If this happened more than twice why was no report filed? Especially since one of those times Jensen almost fought him supposedly. I can get this(him showing up uninvited) happening once and then maybe a second time due to work context but a third fourth and so on?
Why was Schwahn declaring he had a relationship with Elta? He doesn't appear to do this with anyone else but her and her getting cast at guest star tier when her career didn't warrant it does make one wonder if she engaged in casting couch practices.
Why would any woman on her right mind return to a show if she was harassed on it? Even if she wasn't, out of solidarity with those who were victims why back the show of a monster? Wouldn't you rather deal with the monster first? Put him away for good?
I'm going to stop here because I could go on, she has zero credibility in my eyes. Because, again, I know women who have been through this and their entire lives have become about ensuring no one will experience what they've experienced. Her behavior doesn't match her statements. She never stood up for victims of abuse in any meaningful way, she didn't organize any podcasts, anything to create cathartic discussions, she just rode the news for fame as she always does and then quickly moved on. Worst of all, she surely played victim with Jensen who, at the time, no doubt, did no due research on her and her actual relationship with Schwahn.
For anyone who knows how casting works Danneel being suddenly cast as Rachel looks suspicious, to say the least. Also, the nature of all the roles she took on during her stints in movies do point to the type of actress that moves forward not based on talent but rather other choices...I hope Jensen wakes up soon, he deserves better.
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elifalvey · 2 years
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location — aslihan’s house.
time  — saturday, august 13th ( after the reception ).
status — for aslihan ( @draslihanxfahri-bailey​ ).
If there was one good thing that came from parting with Aslihan on the dance floor, it was that the rest of the evening couldn’t have come any faster for Elijah. Several more hours passed seemingly in the blink of an eye, and before he could really sit down and take a breather, he was dropping Rachel off at her home in Summit Lake and fiddling with the GPS in his phone to plug in Aslihan’s address. As tired as he was following an entire night of socialization, the excitement of meeting up with her privately was enough to keep him wide awake. He couldn’t calm his mind — or his heart, for that matter — as it continued to replay the entire interaction on the drive. He tried to process what the hell her earlier assumption could have meant and only came up with more questions than answers, which was a positive change as far as dealing with his emotions was concerned. For once in his damn life, he yearned to figure out the scribbles inside his head instead of run in the other direction. Instead of deny, deny, deny. Perhaps it was because he didn’t process quite enough that had him acting without thinking things through, but soon he was swatting that fear away in favor of pulling into Aslihan’s driveway.
He grabbed his phone from the mount on the windshield and swiped out of Maps, fingers tapping quickly to send her a text to let her know that he was here — with the possibility of Alex finally going to sleep on the other side of the front door, he didn’t want to risk waking her by ringing the doorbell. Once he made sure it was delivered, he jumped out of the car and locked it twice for good measure as he strode up the walkway. There was a second of hesitation where he wasn’t sure that she would be reading her phone, but thankfully, the door was swinging open before his intrusive thoughts pressed the button anyway and immediately a smile plastered on his face. “Hey,” he said breathlessly, eyes taking her in while his hands absentmindedly flew towards the tie still clad around his neck. He finally loosened the knot as he continued, “I’m sorry if I interrupted a bedtime routine. Is Alex still awake?” 
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klysanderelias · 1 year
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Okay so after about 16 pages, I'm finally starting to run down on the Ringposting, so let's go ahead and wrap it all up
The problem I have with The Ring, like most other American horror movies, is that the strength of the idea behind it is weakened by the industry's heavy reliance on gore, shock, and mindless action. It's technically well executed, with good cinematography, passable lighting (i'm still irritated by the blue-green filter over everything), and a decent budget, but I can't help but see the same problems I've had with every other headline horror film in the last twenty years.
The problem is that these movies need to sell, and especially as horror is a smaller, more niche genre, they need to appeal to the widest spread audience they can. Which means, really, they have to balance the dread and the psychological build with the shock and awe of cheap gore shots. Ringu wouldn't sell in the US, because even I found it meandering and slow, and the big payoffs of the film (at least to me) aren't the sort that you'd get pumped up in your seat about, it's the moments that you get to chew over on the drive home.
And it's not like there isn't an audience for that, it's not like US audiences are all brainless and unable to process nuance, but it's that... it doesn't sell as much. The Thing is a classic horror movie, still constantly referenced, and it failed so badly that John Carpenter career nearly blew up. And the problem isn't that it FAILED, but that when a movie costs 15 million dollars and makes 20 million, that's a failure.
Hell, Morbius cost 75 million and made twice that, and it's been universally panned as a bomb.
If you're going to make a movie, it doesn't matter how good it is, how much it endures as a legacy, how seminal or influential, only how much it sells.
Avatar made three fuckin' billion, and it was a cultural blip.
And I'm getting a little far afield complaining about capitalism, but that's the root issue I see about The Ring. And I'm not saying that the Japanese film industry is some sort of paradise where the only standard is whether a movie is good, to be clear. It's just that when I watched the Ring, I felt like it was made by committee. Like they said 'well, we're remaking Ringu, so it needs to be like that, but we need three gore scenes, a romance subplot, the creepy child factor...' and things like that.
And I don't know much about the original novel (and what I do know, I'm not sure I like) but it's not like the Ring draws additional inspiration or scenes from the source material, either.
They cut the psychic stuff basically entirely, which meant they had to rewrite a big chunk of the plot because Ryuji's psychic abilities drove the big reveal, and it also meant that all the stuff with Rachel's kid fell flat. They added a few shock scenes like Rachel pulling the electrode out of her mouth, and-
AND!
The fucking old man!
Sadako's uncle in Ringu felt so good to me because I could feel the guilt and shame radiating off him. He agrees to take Ryuji and Reiko back to the mainland, in the middle of a fuckin' typhoon, because if Sadako wants him dead, he'll make it easy on her. There's a level of pathos around that never gets paid off, and I like that, because it leaves it ambiguous. Does Sadako want him dead? Is she still even able to act in that way, or is the VHS tape the only way she can reach into the world of the living?
And, more importantly, is Sadako even ACTING throughout the movie? Or is the VHS some snapshot of Sadako frozen in time, an imprint of her power without any intention or agency? Is that why despite finding Sadako's body and putting her to rest properly, the curse lives on? Or is it just not enough? Is her death in the well even RELATED to the video? Because most of the video has nothing to do with her death, it's having to do with the suicide of her mother.
And before we even get into the character of Richard, Samara's father, it's important to note that The Ring implies that Samara's doing all this because she's a fucked up evil kid who likes killing.
But Richard! Oh, fuck, Richard, what a poorly used character. I'm not honestly even sure what he does in the movie! He's not even a source of information! I guess he does have that one good line, "What is it with reporters? You take one person's tragedy and force the world to experience it, spread it like sickness" but he's-
He's not even the one who kills Samara
I don't know why they chose to make ANNA the one who kills Samara. In Ringu, it's the doctor she was having an affair with, who's also implied to be Sadako's father.
Here, Richard is directly responsible for a lot of the abuse, but they backed away from having him be the one to do it? I could easily see the decision being to have Anna jump and kill herself, and have Richard kill Samara as some sort of 'you drove your mother to death and I'm going to end this before you do the same to me' plot, even without calling it the grief of losing his wife (because again, no one in this movie likes each other, and if you told me he killed Samara because of how much he loved his wife I'd laugh in your fuckin' face).
And I'm not saying that he SHOULD have, but that it really would make much more sense for him to exist if he DID.
As it is, he's mostly just another cheap thrill of attacking Rachel (but also why does he do that? he's not interested in stopping her, or killing her, he just brains her with a power strip for shits and giggles?) and then goes upstairs and fries himself in the bath.
And like, why does he kill himself? He knows about the tape! He should know that he's safe! But he kills himself as some sort of escape, but I have no idea from what.
And again, I know why they put it in the movie, it's because they needed a shock moment and something to raise the tension by going 'see? the little girl is eeeeevil' but it doesn't work!
And again again, by this point in the movie there's SUPPOSED TO be tension around the nearing deadline for Rachel's death, but it's just not used at all, so they need something else to frighten you!
Anyway.
The well scene.
In Ringu it's so deliberate. It's so important, that they've come here with the intention and purpose of going in and getting Sadako. It's important, that they spend hours and hours working to try and drain the well enough to find her remains. It's so important, that as the time begins to run down and Reiko is hauling bucket after bucket of water up, that she's beginning to despair and her strength is failing.
And it's so, so important that when she goes down into the water and Ryuji is the one hauling the buckets up, that she finds Sadako's corpse and lifts it gently from the water, and cradles it to her.
I'll never stop being mad about the way the Ring handles it.
When Samara's body rises out of the water, it's a normal looking human child. That's important. She's not decayed, she's not bloated, she doesn't look like any of her victims, or even how she looks at the end of the movie. She looks like she could be sleeping. And when Rachel lifts her out of the water, the really bad special effect plays out where her flesh melts away to show a skeleton...
and Rachel drops her.
And partially what makes me so mad is that in Ringu, as Reiko lifts Sadako's body out, it's just her head out of the water, with the long stringy black hair, and as Reiko touches it, the hair slides away to show the skull flooded with green brackish water, draining away through the empty eye sockets.
And then she holds it close.
I will die fucking mad about this.
And part of the reason why I'm furious about it is that it's boring. It's uninteresting, especially with the unintentional way Rachel enters the well, but it's also like... there's no compassion. There's no sympathy for the monster. It's the chalice scene from Indiana jones but everyone is too tired to react.
And like, that compassion is so important, and there's just none of it in the Ring. There's no compassion, no love, no respect between ANY of the characters in the Ring. Rachel is kind of explicitly shown to be a bad mom.
Yeah, we need to talk about that.
In Ringu, Reiko's relationship with her son is strained because she's a single mother, but she's not a bad mother. She cooks dinner for her son when she's going to be gone. She relies on him to be a certain level of self-sufficient, but it wasn't like he was forced to do everything himself. She's distant and she relies on her father to help take care of him, but it's clear that she's still present in his life as much as possible.
Fuckin' Rachel is introduced being late to picking up her son, and kind of explicitly is called out as being a bad parent a lot through the movie. She sits in her room with the door closed while her son makes himself lunch and goes to school. She ignores the teacher's concerns about her son, and the way her son appears to be expressing his grief. She keeps basically going 'yeah Aidan takes care of himself, isn't that great' and not putting the pieces together that he's so self-sufficient because she's entirely unreliable. And like, the way she acts around him... it's so weird and off-putting and not in the way they intend. They make him a strange little kid, with this intense stare and weird way of speaking, but it doesn't read as like, an autistic kid, or a psychic kid. It reads like a stranger.
Throughout the movie, he never calls her mom. He always calls her Rachel. And like, yeah, again, it's supposed to be a weird-kid-thing, but it doesn't feel that way, especially given how self-sufficient he has to be, and how little the two of them interact. It feels like she's not his mom. It feels like a kid you just adopted, who doesn't feel comfortable around you yet. It feels like he says 'Rachel' and not 'mom' or 'mother' or anything, because he doesn't know who she is.
And with the choice to make Samara a little girl and not a grown woman, it just hits so much harder because we see Samara being abused, and the way she's treated, and I don't think we're supposed to draw comparisons between her and Rachel's son, at least not in the way I did.
Rachel neglects her son. She doesn't make him sleep in a barn or whatever, but it's hard not to be like, damn, the only thing you praise your son for is NOT BEING A KID. You like him because he's not a burden on you, and if he was, I wouldn't be fuckin' surprised if you also started putting him in mental health hospitals or hell, even just getting rid of him.
And like, Noah in the Ring, as Rachel's ex-boyfriend, explicitly says that he ran out on the two of them because he thought he'd be a shitty father. He ALSO has a line about how he doesn't want anyone else to be the kid's father, either, in some weird sort of possessive jealousy about Rachel. And like, I said it before, but you could see him as a foil to Anna as someone who didn't want a child and fled when he ended up with one, as opposed to Anna who so desperately wanted one and worked so hard between fertility treatments and miscarriages and eventually adoption.
I think a lot of parallels I'm drawing between characters in the Ring aren't intentional.
Anyway, I don't think I can say things like 'the Ring doesn't understand what made Ringu so good' because I'm not sure I understand what makes Ringu so good. I'm not sure that there's some deep overarching theme that the entire story is working towards. I know it differs pretty significantly from the novel, and so there's always going to be a level of disconnect between the plot and the beats. Like, Reiko's character was a guy (and thus, not divorced from Ryuji) in the novel. The way people die in the novel is from some mutated smallpox virus that makes a tumor grow in your heart over seven days exactly. There's a lot of stuff where I'm like... I don't think I'm going to waste my time reading the book.
But whatever the director and scriptwriter did with Ringu, it worked, and it worked well. There's a lot to chew on in ways that feel good, and that don't feel like there's an obvious answer. I saw someone talking about the ending of Ringu as heroic and I was like 'what the fuuuuuuuuck' before I realized that they interpreted the final phone call as Reiko explaining everything to her father
And thus, her father had agreed to watch the video to save her son, to sacrifice himself for his family.
Which is like! Yeah, that's a possible read! And I like the fact that you could read it that way! I don't think I believe it, but that's okay.
And that level of ambiguity hits, where the Ring's 'who are we going to show the video to' ambiguity falls flat because whoever Rachel gives it to, they're not anyone we care about. She's going to be murdering some rando, and it's not some major shift in who she's been the entire movie to decide to murder some rando. I'm perfectly willing to believe that Rachel from the beginning of the movie would condemn someone else to die if it was convenient for her. She's too selfish and isolated.
I said Ringu was unpolished, and I think it's true, because there's a lot I could suggest to clean up, but at the end of the day, the movie feels good to watch. I was drawn in by the plot and the characters and the suspense and the payoff. Even the parts where I think it started to drag, no it didn't, because the experience I had thinking about the movie brought me back around to argue in favor of it. Yeah, the well sequence in Ringu is too long, and it's too slow, and it could have been cut down and tightened up, and I'm glad they didn't because it's perfect.
The more I think about the Ring, the more irritated I get with it.
I think we should stop remaking foreign movies.
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minthe-lover · 2 years
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Am I reading this right? Is there really NO break in between s2 and s3 according to Rachel? and there will only be ONE two-week break in August? Yeah, great she gets money and awards off of this, but she is not doing the bulk of the work, her team is, so how is that fair to them? they don't get a cut of the book or merch sales or get to share in the award status or fame, only SHE does. These are horrible working conditions for them, all while Rachel profits off it.
Hell, the Suitor Armor creator (who by all accounts is also a big Webtoon creator, it's consistently one of their most popular series) said a few months ago how creators are terrified to take breaks because Webtoons will see them as "unreliable" and thus stop supporting them, so how is Rachel not, intentionally or not, playing right into that toxic attitude by not letting her team never take breaks? She's one of their top creators, look how successful she is because she never stops working! Unless you work like that, we don't see a reason to support you!
Because she doesn't need a break, she doesn't do the art and only has to write up one episode a week and do very rough sketches that can all be done in one night and then have the rest of the week off while the art team works those long hours for Saturday and she gets all the credit, but it doesn't matter if the whole team leaves, now does it? She can just send out a tweet she needs work fast and have thousands of fans begging to work for her on the cheap and fast, so she can easily keep up the high turnover rate and constant work because she has a giant pool of resources that reinforces Webtoons' toxic attitude for creators. She has a built-in system of eager workers to take the load off of her so she doesn't need to go on constant hiatuses to recharge, because really, what is she recharging from? It's easy for her to not need a break when she isn't doing the actual work, but the other creators DON'T have these massive teams or a marketing team dedicated to only pushing them, so it's just wildly unfair to have them have to work twice as hard if not more for even a fraction of the support Webtoons gives her, which overwhelmingly, they won't get even if they're perfect, constantly producing creators like they want.
I'm sorry to rant here, but I'm just really upset how Webtoons and even Rachel herself play her up as some rags to riches story of a one-woman mega talent who works so hard over the rest of them (my god, Webtoons Eisner post really acts like she's the ONLY person working on it? in 2022? They're joking, right?) instead of an incredibly lucky woman who posted on Discover at the right time and has a massive team doing all the hard work for her and a company pouring millions into pushing her comic as The Comic You Need to Spend Money On™️, then demanding their creators with none of the same support or resources to do the work of a five+ person team or else they don't "deserve" their support. It's just not fair and frankly manipulative on Webtoons' behalf, and I get why Rachel won' bite the hand that feeds her, but it sucks she stays silent as she benefits from a system that really is only designed for her and a select few other while the rest struggle.
I agree, it's sad that western is often such a clearly money focused company with generally toxic environment.
It's sort of reminds me of like how mlms market themselves. Showing only the few people that make a ton of money, marketing it as something anyone could succussed at while also it being a side hustle.
Not saying that webtoon is anywhere near mlms but still it's a generally toxic culture of productivity over creativity
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21 for the spotify wrapped thing
21. Bejeweled by Taylor Swift 
I think this request is actually from last year which was Dorothea by Taylor Swift! I guess I might not have posted it here because my life was a MESS but it is on my ao3 so I’ll link it here. And as a bonus here’s this lol 
Edward Townsend was in trouble. Not the covert kind. The boyfriend kind. Which, yes, was much worse. He braced himself for impending doom upon entering the apartment, but it was quiet. No wait- there was a sound coming from the bedroom. Was that... music? He approached slowly and came to realize not only was Abigail playing music, but she was singing along. Pushing the door open a bit he caught a glimpse of her sitting in front of the vanity, putting make-up on. 
“Hello Edward,” she greeted, without looking up.  
He entered slowly, as if it were a trap. “Abigail,” he started. “I’ve been thinking-,” 
“Oh!” She cut him off, music still playing in the background of their conversation. “Me too. You know,” she had a big fluffy brush in her hand that she tapped against the compact in her other hand, producing a rather harsh sound. “I think I’ve been a little too kind to you.” 
Edward blinked twice. It took him a moment to process those words and even then, he couldn’t exactly make sense of them. What the hell did that mean? She had fallen silent as if he was supposed to speak, but he had no idea what to say. 
She looked at him through the mirror and fought the urge to laugh at his dumbstruck expression. “I mean, you’d think I hadn’t even noticed the way you keep walking all over my peace of mind with the way I keep letting you do it.” 
“Uh- Abigail,” Edward tried to regain his bearings. He didn’t know if it was the American versus English language barrier, but he could not figure out where she was going with this. 
“You know, a wise woman once said, ‘Putting someone first only works when you’re in their top five’,” she continued. 
Edward pinched the bridge of his nose. He took a deep breath before looking up, ready to ask if they could just talk. But then Abigail got up from her vanity and he got his first good look at her. 
She had done her hair and make-up which he had obviously noticed, but she was wearing something he’d never seen her in before. It was sparkly and floor length with the highest slit he’d ever seen in his life. Abigail had great legs; it would be a shame to hide them so most of her dresses that were long had slits. They just usually weren’t- she walked over to her bed to pick up her purse and Edward wondered if she’d learned hypnosis in the time he was gone. 
“Oh, by the way,” she said, her voice light and carefree. She came to stand in front of him, close enough to touch but not quite there. “I’m going out tonight.” 
The next thing he knew, Edward was still standing in place with nothing but the lingering scent of Abigail’s perfume in the air around him. 
Abigail practically ran into the car waiting for her downstairs. “Go, go, go!” she instructed as soon as she got in. 
Rachel rolled her eyes. “Are you sure this is necessary?” she asked but pulled out onto the street. 
“The best person is gonna win mental warfare and that will be me,” Abigail answered. “Thanks for tagging along.” 
“You’re my sister,” Rachel replied. “Also, I’m less tagging along and more just being your designated driver.” 
Abigail shrugged, reapplying her lipstick in the mirror. “Probably not for long. I’m sure he’s gonna follow me.” 
Rachel laughed to herself. “I wish I had your confidence.” 
“Happily married people don’t need my confidence,” she reminded her sister. 
“Touche.” 
As suspected, Rachel opted to stay outside while Abby went to- ahem -mingle. The first two hours were a revolving door of compliments for her and her dress and her looks. She’d made some acquaintances that came with her to get a drink. 
“So,” one of them asked after a few minutes. Abigail glanced up at them from her drink. “Do you have a man?” 
Abigail smiled and cast her eyes back down to her drink. Then she looked up, locking her eyes somewhere across the room from her. Not that the person talking to her noticed. “I don’t remember,” she said, an amused smile pulling at her lips. Her companions laughed. Unfortunately, her friend across the room didn’t seem to find it funny. She finished her drink and went to order another. When she turned back around the person was gone. 
“Really, Abigail?” A voice said in her ear. 
She couldn’t help herself from smiling. “Hello again, Edward. How are you this evening?” She could feel how tense he was behind her. It was so cute. She turned to face him and, sure enough, there was the familiar clench in his jaw. But she didn’t miss how his eyes immediately looked her up and down. “You like? I think I polish up real nice.” She took a step back, giving him a better look at her. For good measure she gave a few turns causing the sparkles to reflect the light they caught and bounce around the room, making the place shimmer. 
And while Edward was looking at her, she was looking at him. And she didn’t miss how his eyes darkened as she moved. 
“You know,” she said, closing the space between them. “I think I’ve been too good of a girl.” 
His eyes narrowed at her as he looked back at her face. It was evident he didn’t agree with her statement. It made her want to giggle.  
“I mean it’s like I did all the extra credit and then got graded on a curve.” 
“You’ve never been one for extra credit, Abigail,” he told her. “Now, what are you doing.” 
She reached past him to take her drink from the bartender. She leaned into him in the process, moving her mouth to his ear. “Teaching some lessons. You might want to take notes.” 
“Abigail,” he groaned. She tried to lean away but his hand moved to the small of her back, keeping her close. She could shove him off easily but allowed it. 
“Yes?” she practically purred into his ear. 
She felt his hand flex against her back. “I missed you,” he said. Not what she was expecting but she could work with it. 
“I missed you,” she admitted. She moved back so he could see her face again. “But I missed sparkling,” she added with a shrug. Next thing he knew, she was out of his arms and headed back into the crowd of people. 
Or she tried. Before she made it a hand found hers and tugged her into his firm chest. His arms went around her as if they were dancing. “Abigail,” he said. “Can we just talk?” 
“About what?” she asked innocently. “I have nothing to talk about. I made you my world and haven’t you heard? I can reclaim the land,” she went to break from his hold, but Edward spun them, so she just ended up pressed against him, again. She huffed, blowing her hair out of her face. “Pushy.” 
“Hardly,” he scoffed. “Have you ever heard the saying ‘familiarity breeds contempt’?” 
“Well, it’s a good thing we’re not familiar with one another now, isn’t it?” Her eyes lit up as her demeanor shifted, rising to the challenge that had been simmering between them. 
“What do you want from me?” he hissed. “What do you want me to say?” 
“Literally anything that won’t make me cry,” she answered, punctuating it with a shove to his chest. “Before you got here, I had every intention of dancing all night and getting compliments and it was going rather well. And some guy said my aura’s moonstone.” 
Edward paused, considering what she had said. Then, “What does that mean?” 
“I have no idea, he was high,” she replied. “But that’s not the point!” 
“I know,” he said. “Abigail, just come on. Come back with me.” 
Abigail tilted her head, considering. “Hmm... nah,” she broke herself out of his hold and started walking away. 
Edward gaped at her. “Abigail!” 
She turned to him and shrugged. “You should have thought of this. Don’t put a girl in the basement when she wants the penthouse, babe.” 
But Edward wasn’t giving up. “Abigail, what do you need me to do?” 
She smiled at him and looked over his shoulder. “Get in line.” Following her gaze, he found several men also looking at her. “What’s a girl gonna do?” she asked, feigning innocence. “A diamond’s gotta shine.” With a wink, she walked away from him. 
It was gonna be a long night. 
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rivkathetechie · 1 year
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Rating books I read this year:
“Red, White, and Royal Blue” by Casey McQuiston. 8/10, I love my dumb American boy with a literal Prince Charming. Don’t care about anything I love it so much I’ve listened to the audiobook 5 times this year.
“Iron Widow” by Xiran Jay Zhao. 10/10. All of this. Perfection. This might as well be a XJZ fan account. Yas Empress let’s destroy the patriarchy 💖
“A Touch of Darkness” by Scarlett St. Clair. 5/10, so many tropes but it’s aight. Decent smut but nothing to write home about. I’m just a sucker for enemies to lovers.
“A Touch of Ruin” by Scarlett St. Clair. 1/10. I hated Persephone and everything was just so… ugh. Bad. Went from questionable and tortured love interest to “I can’t justify this fucking douchebag.” Didn’t finish because it made me so mad.
“She Drives Me Crazy” by Kelly Quindlen. 7/10, cute sapphic YA. Tropes are tropes for a reason. Cute as hell tho.
“Neon Gods” by Katee Robert. 9/10. Tropes are tropes for a reason, love this take on Hades/Persephone. Preferred the smut here to St. Clair’s work, way preferred Persephone’s characterization here (I became a Persephone connoisseur in 2022 I guess.)
“You Go Your Own Way” by Eric Smith. 6/10 Enemies to lovers trope and a dorky main character I kinda identified with. Ending felt rushed but it’s alright. Love the audiobook narration. Very quick read so it’s great for commutes.
“Today, Tonight, Tomorrow” by Rachel Lynn Solomon. 8/10. Literally EVERY trope (well, feels like it) and very pointed “meet cute AU” moments that felt very self aware. Props for well done incidental Jewish rep that bucks stereotypes and doesn’t involve Chanukah.
“The Golem and the Jinni” by Helene Wecker. 10/10. Might be the best book I read this year. A 20 hour audiobook and I listened to it twice in a workweek. It was so good. SO good. Multiple rounded characters. Could be a bit convoluted and confusing toward the end if you weren’t paying attention, but I was so invested. I give this audiobook to people who want to get back into fantasy novels.
“They Went Left” by Monica Hesse. 6/10. Heavy. Good, made me cry, wish a romance hadn’t happened. I disagree with my library insisting this is YA, felt more adult than the “general audience” of “The Golem and the Jinni.” The twist destroyed me. I was a broken person for like 10 minutes working in a laboratory trying not to cry into a beaker. 9 hours but heavy enough to last a while. Would be a good emotional rollercoaster for a long train or plane ride.
“Sweet Ruin” by Kresley Cole. 7/10. It isn’t good, per se, it just gets the rocks off. Decent enough and fun to have a desirable protagonist with an accent like mine.
“The Way of Kings” by Brandon Sanderson. 4/10. I just can’t get into Sanderson. Hot take, I know. Did not finish.
“Gideon the Ninth” by Tamsyn Muir. 10/10, love my funky space lesbians. I recommend this book all the time when someone wants a cheeky protag. The audiobook is awesome. I was SO invested in this and I can’t believe I waited so long to read it.
“The Bone Clocks” by David Mitchell. 6/10. Very well written, I was just struggling to stay engaged with it while working. Some of the lulls made my brain check out and I would miss critical exposition. That said, very complex, great if you want to read waaaaaaay too into a book.
“A Hunger Like No Other” by Kresley Cole. 6/10. Once again, it doesn’t have to be good. It just has to be.
“The Lies of Locke Lamora” by Scott Lynch. 2/10. I hated this fucking book. Hot take in my friend group, especially since I read Rothfuss and Hearne. But I just hated it. I couldn’t get my teeth into it and couldn’t care about the characters. Did not finish.
“No Other Love” by Harper Bliss. 6/10, cute and sweet. Love a short sapphic read. Unremarkable but good.
“The Chosen” by Chaim Potok. 10/10, one of my favorite authors. He just don’t miss. Heavy at points but I love it.
I probably missed some but here we are. Ones I could remember off top.
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televinita · 7 months
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All The Songs Make Sense
I am regularly sad that Tumblr doesn't have access to this post, because it's one of my favorite things I wrote during my first go-round with Doctor Who/while processing my feelings about Journey's End, so I am transplanting it here. Which I've thought about doing at least twice before, but I don't think I actually ever did, so here goes nothing.
CONTEXT: I had my music library on shuffle, and 3 songs in a row were either explicitly written about the Doctor/Rose or on my ship playlist for them, and so I said...
Wait, wait, I HAVE A NEW GAME.  For the next 20 songs, I will magically relate lyrics to Doctor/Rose. I was this close to turning this game into the fic meme [where you write a tiny story related to/inspired by the song], but since I've never even tried to write Doctor Who fic, it would all pretty much come out sounding the same: me frustratingly working out my issues with Journey's End in terrible, thinly-veiled third person POV.  So instead we'll just pluck out lyrics and comment on them, as I do.
And so this was born, bringing into existence lyrical associations that, in some cases at least, persist to this day.
1. Blackbird - Evan Rachel Wood You were only waiting for this moment to arrive
(cue "Rose's Theme" and an otherwise-empty street)
OR
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
(broken wings, a phrase here meaning Ten II and/or her suddenly clipped joy)
2. I Will Show You Love - Kendall Payne
Well that's just too easy:
Watch your dreams like falling stars, heartache made you who you are
3. In This Life - Delta Goodrem I have faltered, I have stumbled, I have found my feet again I've been angry and I've been shaken, found a new place to begin I think that works pretty well for Rose in Pete's World
4. Do You Want to Play? - Jewel (A CHALLENGE, SIR?)
Don't ever give away what you can't take back
Which sort of implies that Rose is an object, but WHATEVER.  He essentially handed her off - gave her away - and now the next time the universes magically break down and they're reunited, it'll be too late.
5. Taxi Ride - Tori Amos (ohoho!  You think you're gonna throw me for a loop?) We've all been pushed too far today
Almost anywhere in the two parts of the finale, really.
6. Hard Candy - Counting Crows
All the regrets you can't forget Are somehow pressed upon a picture In the face of such an ordinary girl This is where I really wish I was doing the fic meme...not that I actually have an idea, but, you know.  I have a mental picture within the TARDIS. 
7. Larger Than Life - Backstreet Boys
All of our time spent in flashes of light
YOU THOUGHT I COULDN'T DO IT.  BUT I DID.
8. Awake - Josh Groban (oh, I see we're back to the easy ones) We can't stay like this forever But I have you here today
9. Dignity - Hilary Duff Curses!  The game has defeated me.  This round. (unless we go meta and relate it to my lack of dignity in posting this) [let alone re-posting it]
10. Emily - Jewel One moment here, then gone With no forwarding address
Hard to pass mail between parallel worlds.
11. Ooh Oh - Keri Noble (ooh, oh, challenge?) What if I want you just to walk away From all the pain we have both been through?
*tilts head*  I mean, isn't that what he asks in the end?  Essentially? 
12. What Child is This - Josh Groban *rolls eyes*  Way to make it impossible on the very next selection.  See, in the fic meme, I could have set something during one of the Christmas specials.  But noooo, I had to be lazy. 13. Wait for You - Elliot Yamin (Oh, hell yes.  Just watch me.) Rose -> Doctor You're still in love with me Don't leave me crying
Doctor 2 -> Rose Why can't we just start over again, get it back to the way it was? If you give me a chance, I can love you right 14. Goodnight and Go - Imogen Heap
We'll have drinks and talk about things Any excuse to stay awake with you
The chorus would work beautifully for Martha, but this is about as good as I can get for Doctor/Rose. Still, not terrible; better than nothing.
15. A New Day Has Come - Celine Dion Televinita forfeits this round on the grounds that the song mocks and taunts her and sinks her further into the pit of despair.
16. Telling Stories -- Tracy Chapman Sometimes a lie is the best thing
Lie, a noun illustrated in both the sentence "and I'm him," and Rose's kiss.
17. Stay - Beth Hart When I was young, just a little girl I'd sing to the sun & dream with the world Now I got a suitcase full of memories ...I don't know; is a slight stretch.  I again wish I was doing the fic meme.  Little Rose would be delightful.
18. Still Standing - The Rasmus Wish I could have you by my side Tonight when the sky is burning Think I am going to Turn Left places with this one...
19. What Goes Around Comes Around - Justin Timberlake (BWAHAHA!  And yet:) Don't want to think about it Don't want to talk about it I'm just so sick about it Can't believe it's ending this way Sorry, that's my reaction to Doctor Who.  Here's the Doctor/Rose bit:
Is this the way it's really going down? Is this how we say goodbye? See, it's slightly different!
20. Buildings - Regina (slightly edited for repetition) She would ask for time And she would beg for time And he would give her time But time is not given and time is not taken Which clearly sums it up. 
Also, haha, WAY TO SIGNAL THAT THE GAME IS OVER, LIBRARY ("Doomsday").
...my music library and I have a special relationship.  Be quiet. 
And finally, just because I really want to share what sparked the game off...
Goodbyes - Jess Anderson Is it so wrong to want to stay now that I've found you?
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ourbygoneage · 1 year
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Ch 19: Doors with Locks Verse 3
Rachelle had tossed and turned all night, unable to shake off the unsettling feeling from her encounter with Noah. She couldn't help but feel that there was more to the raider surgeon's story than what they had let on. So when morning came, she grabbed the satellite phone and dragged Tailor with her to Noah's office.
As soon as they arrived, Rachelle demanded answers. "What's the connection between the music and the zombies?" she asked, trying to keep her voice level despite her growing frustration.
Noah shrugged dismissively. "Just something to pass the time," they said, their voice low and gravelly.
Rachelle wasn't satisfied with the answer. "And the zombies?" she pressed. "What are they for?"
Noah's eyes narrowed, and they shifted in their seat uncomfortably. "You're wasting your time," they said, their voice dripping with disdain. "The man in the moon found bigger idiots to lead around on his leash."
Rachelle could feel her anger bubbling up inside her, and without thinking, she reached over and pulled off Noah's mask. Underneath, Noah looked young and androgynous, with a faded burn scar and a clouded eye.
"What are you doing?" Tailor asked, alarmed by Rachelle's sudden outburst.
But Rachelle ignored him, her attention fully on Noah. "What the hell is going on here?" she demanded.
Noah just laughed, a dark and twisted sound. "You think you're the first one to try to take them down?" they asked. "I tried myself and look where I am now: planting stars upon thars for table scraps. You're not even close."
Rachelle took a step back, suddenly feeling a wave of fear wash over her. "What are you talking about?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.
Noah leaned forward, their expression intense. "I've been around a lot longer than you think," they said. "And I've seen things that would make your blood run cold."
Rachelle was starting to feel a sense of unease creeping up on her. She didn't know what to believe, but something about Noah's demeanor was making her feel increasingly uncomfortable.
"You need to leave," Noah said suddenly, their voice taking on a menacing tone. "Now."
Rachelle didn't need to be told twice. She grabbed Tailor's arm and practically dragged him out of the room. As they left, they could hear Noah croaking with dark laughter behind them, asking if Rachelle was going to be the one to finally kill them.
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Hello friends
I am watching Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood for the first time ever and I’m gonna take a second to talk how profoundly disturbing this show is.
So, Ed is telling Rose about what it takes, scientifically, to make a human body.
And he just offhandedly says “a kid could go down the street and buy those things with the change in his pocket.”
Do you think he ever says that--so easily, like it’s just a fun fact, did you know the human body is worth about $3 and then moves on with his day--around Mustang and Mustang just feels this terrible gaping hole somewhere under his feet because
Ed knows.  He’s not just spouting an interesting factoid.  Any alchemist worth their watch can probably toss off those interesting factoids.  Mustang has a few himself.  But Ed knows that a small child can walk up to a store and hand over a couple hundred cenz and no one would ever, ever think to stop them.
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