#for the record my perspective on this is that i spent my high school years being into True Punk and True Deathrock

[xirex]

JULIA ✮ RELATIONSHIPS ?!

! CHAN . . . CHANLIA / 2LETTE

her contact name : juju 🩷

his contact name : channie 🤍

her father omg. the moment he saw 10-year-old julia in a training room was the moment he knew he had to protect her. julia had just come from australia at that time and having chan, someone who could understand exactly how she was struggling as a foreigner, really helped her in the long run. chan would always be with the girl, to the point where he was helping her get ready for school in the morning and even pick her up in the afternoon. julia relies on chan a lot for a variety of things; whether it be helping her create a song to taste-testing her food to make sure it's perfect. chan can basically read the girl like an open book. he can tell when she isn't feeling well or when she's really excited to do something, even before she can at times. don't get me wrong, julia does mess with chan a lot, but behind those teasing words and smirk, she knows she has someone who will always care for her, at her highest of highs and lowest of lows.

viral moments : julia feeling sick during a tour stop & chan giving her one GLANCE and immediately rushing over and asking if she's alright // chan moving over to let julia pick something out in a game first // chan sitting next to her while they were eating on a vlive & when she was talking, randomly patting her head

'2lette' came from fans. more of an inside joke; chan's shaving brand is gillette and julia says she'd use that brand if she ever had to

? LEE KNOW . . . JUHO / PABOZ

her contact name : child ☝

his contact name : lee knows nothing 🤓

she was so scared of him when they first met. like he just. looked scary. she got to know him a lot better over the time they spent preparing for debut and they became extremely close. julia looks up to him a lot, and similar to chan, she's like his daughter. they bond over their skill in dance— it was what brought them together in the first place. she also trusts his judgement; whenever julia feels like she needs guidance or another opinion on something she'll go to minho and ask for his perspective. he's the one who can talk her into doing things and it literally always works; usually whenever she's sick he and chan team up to get her to lay down. lee know is like julia's mother and chan's the father !!! he does spend a lot of time teasing her though. over her height, her saying something funnily, her tripping, etc. everything she does is funny to him ? but its okay, it's all in love ofc !!

viral moments : in skz code 08, julia holding onto minho the entire time they were on the mission (poor minho .. two scaredy cats at his side) // julia being frustrated over not wanting to do something, minho stopping her to try and persuade her & julia immediately agreeing after // minho saving a take-out box of food he didn't like knowing julia would probably eat it

'paboz' came from the members in an early skz code ep

! CHANGBIN . . . BINLIA / SYOTDARIZ

her contact name : lee money

his contact name : gym rat 🌵

MY SUNSHINE AND SUNSHINE PROTECTOR DUO I CANNOT. whenever she's running around playing with one of the boys or just by herself he'll be like standing in the back with the most proud smile ever. they enjoy teasing each other, and will take up any opportunity possible to; at restaurants, during filming, etc. when changbin's on "watch the maknaes" duty and sees julia about to do something he's run towards her, pull her away, smack her head, and then go back to what he was doing before.. it's happened on camera too many times. he also helps julia during song recording because she tends to mess up or misread certain korean bits. her #1 fanboy !! whenever she has an idea for a song he'll just sit and listen attentively and even help her tweak the lyrics. changbin tries his best to understand julia's struggle as the only girl and just wants the best for her in the long run

viral moments : julia on a vlive gushing over how much changbin's helped her improve her korean over the years // changbin being so patient with julia while trying to teach her how to do something // binlia seeing each other for the first time after months and hugging so tightly

syotdari / 숏다리 = short legs, they're the shortest two in the group

? HYUNJIN . . . JUJIN / BATTERIES

her contact name : llama?

his contact name : samsamsam 😯

two human batteries that never die out. julia highly influences hyunjin into doing silly shit, like pranking the members, teasing them, just causing chaos anywhere and everywhere.. it's a little crazy. they're both extroverts when together, minho and chan see them fooling around in their nightmares i swear. back to the calmer side; they love to draw and paint together. julia has a lot of the paintings they've made together hung up in her room. hyunjin was the one to talk her through panic attacks (and still is!!) when they were frequent and that was one of the only times they would actually be quiet together. whenever julia feels like she needs to take a break or just have time to breathe while on stage, hyunjin would immediately be at her side making sure she's alright. hyunjin's probably the one who talks her into doing things that she probably shouldn't be doing in newer places. they also go live together so often, and half of those lives are just filled with them dancing or teasing each other.

viral moments : on a tour stop, hyunjin running around with julia on his back // yet another tour video, julia stepping off to the side breathing heavily & hyunjin immediately going over and passing her a water bottle // on a v-live hyunjin & julia painting together, julia showing hyunjin her canvas and him cooing and saying it looks great

'batteries' comes from the two being known as human batteries when together.

! HAN . . . LIASUNG / NINIZ

her contact name : 땅콩 [ peanut ]

his contact name : my hannie 🤍

you thought jujin was bad? these two are worse. they'll take any possible opportunity to argue with each other. most times it's just to mess with the older members, but they do enjoy teasing each other. in fact, you can usually tell something's up with one or the other when they go more than an hour without saying some kind of belittling comment to eo. however, despite all of this, they're insanely close. whenever another one of the hyungs isn't there to help, they'll usually go to eo during panic attacks. they also share the same fear of heights; when skz has to do something that's relatively high up, liasung will be clinging to eo for dear life. they're like the twins of skz—both the fans and the boys themselves call the pair that. they're always together; on stage, at the dorms, even in variety shows or random vlogs. so many random 1 am bubble updates from them going on late-night walks or convenience store runs.

viral moments : them teasing eo and then 5 seconds later going "i love you~ every second // liasung absolutely dominating in a game of bowling on a show // during a fansign, julia stealing han's hat and after trying to get it back a bunch of times, he just lets her have it

'niniz' came out of nowhere. a member used it to refer to the pair and it just stuck.

? FELIX . . . LIXIA / SUNSHINEZ

her contact name : tiny lee 🌟

his contact name : bokkie 🌞

MY SUNSHINE BABIESSS !!!! the two that will make you smile the moment you see them together. they love eo so much it's just so fluffy and sweet. felix is another member you'll always see julia with because they love to be around each other. julia even admitted she spends more time in jeongin's / felix's rooms because they're so comfortable with eo. julia and felix always talk in english to each other out of habit; when they met, they immediately started to converse in english rather than korean. julia's the person who influences felix to take up his interests, like baking for example! julia also has a lot of matching items with felix, whether it be clothes, jewelry, even phone charms or cases. they both just have so much love to give and it's so evident in the way they treat each other and the members. these two have so many concert / fansign videos of them just hugging or playing with eo; felix likes to let julia play around as much as possible since she's been a trainee since she was a kid and didn't really have a childhood.

viral moments : felix and julia going into a haunted house together and not coming out for another 45 minutes // julia facetiming felix in the middle of his live // felix posting a video on bubble of julia just sitting on their counter eating leftover cookie dough mix

'sunshinez' comes from them being known as the sunshine duo.

! SEUNGMIN . . . JUMIN / STYLISTS

her contact name : tiger 🐯

his contact name : minnie mouse

julia see julia do with seungmin istg. so many clips of him randomly doing something and julia immediately copying him. he's like a little devil on her shoulder. seungmin's fooling around? oh, julia's probably with him. they're always teaming up to tease the members at any given chance, basically chan & minho's worst nightmare. seungmin knows how to get under her skin, and vice versa. they enjoy styling the members together and have been appointed at the two stylists of skz. two people who enjoy showing their affection through big small actions rather than words, which is why they're so close. seungmin's helped her perfect her vocal abilities over the years, and when she got moved to vocalracha, he was the most excited because they'd get to work together more often. when julia falls asleep backstage, she's usually laying on seungmin's shoulder or seungmin's going over and laying a blanket on her or fixing her hair / posture.

viral moments : in the xmas skz code, seungmin randomly flying a paper airplane and julia doing the same soon after // seungmin uploading pics of julia sleeping on him while he's just doing a peace sign // seungmin & julia being on a team tgt and not being able to finish their mission bcz they spent the entire time messing around

'stylists' comes from the two being known as skz's stylists

? I.N . . . INLIA / TWIN FLAMES

her contact name : nyangie 🐱

his contact name : INNIEEEEEEEEE 🩵

MY POOKIES HELLO. the twin flames of skz. julia's like jeongin's little sister please. they've been close ever since the survival show, like their friendship is natural. julia spends so much time with jeongin, more than any other member. they're extremely clingy with each other, like two little kids. they show their love for each other by being clingy & constantly playing around with eo. constant stealing from eo; jeongin could have a sweatshirt one day and the next, it'll be gone & vice versa. they're each other's hype person!! julia enjoys cheering him on in an annoying voice just to mess with him. no doubt the closest duo of stray kids, literally nothing could come between them. another member she has a lot of matching items with. the main reason julia spends a lot of time with him / in his room is because they're always assigned to be together anyway; hotel roommates, game partners, even being sent away by the members to go fetch something from the shops. if one's smiling and laughing, the other is too. jeongin always serves her first, and even hand feeds her food if she asks him. also!! they're so attentive to each other. never a moment were they aren't listening to eo so well and lovingly I CANT.

viral moments : mt skz code, they were in the pool and just started to try and drown eo ?? (affectionate) // in a fansign, jeongin received two animal headbands, so he reached over to put one on julia's head // julia and jeongin in the background of a member's vlog trying to fight ?? hug ?? they were doing something.

'twin flames' comes from them being known as the twin flames / platonic soulmates of skz.

xia's message . . . this took .. so long .. taglist . . . open!

#xi ; julia #skz 9th member #9th member of skz #skz #stray kids female member #9th member of stray kids #stray kids 9th member #kpop imagines #kpop female oc #kpop added member #kpop addition #kpop oc #fictional idol oc #fictional idol addition #fictional kpop community #fake idol oc #fake idol community #fake kpop idol #idol!oc #idol oc #idol!au

[dollarbin]

Shakey Sundays #17:

Ragged Glory, Part 3

When I was a senior in high school I experienced big-deal, pure, adrenaline surging joy - the kind that feels like it forever changes the shape of your face - three separate times.

Two of these moments happened separately on the same day, beginning in the afternoon with an obvious and rather pedestrian origin: I got into college. What's more, I got into a trophy school that would allow me leave home permanently and still be a goldilocks' drive time away from the two most important things in my life at that point: my ladyfriend and the summer camp job where she, I, and most of our friends worked (and where we listened to a lot of Built To Spill). I remember running from the mailbox and past my father, on my way to nowhere in particular, while ripping open the big heavy acceptance envelope, my ideal future suddenly revealed like a sparkling second sun.

My famous brother chronicled that same day's night from his own perspective earlier this month. We went together that night to see The Breeders play, yes, but The John Spencer Blues Explosion opened the show and they melted my already-altered-by-the-day face. Spencer crept around his Theremin like a tricked out cosmic bullfighter, tempting it to shout and gurgle and spin. The drummer broke several kick peddles in his mammoth exuberance; they had no bass player and no sense of composure whatsoever. I was not on any drugs, but it sure felt like it. And they were really good drugs.

John Spencer and his mates were, at that point in my life, the loudest, most alive thing I'd ever seen on stage; and keep in mind that I had already seen Tom Petty and Bob Dylan twice each, Neil Young three times, a crumbling and brutal Uncle Tupelo once and the Dead and Paul Simon more times than I frankly remember (there're years of future Dollar Bin posts left to come about all those shows).

I'm not saying the John Spencer Blues Explosion compares to those acts or played comparably good music that night. Instead, what I mean is that I was just right there with them: they were so alive, and so was I. And so I was SO, DAMN, HAPPY.

This video is from that same Spring, but not from my show. Had this been from my show, and had I filmed it, there would be almost no coherent footage: I spent the whole set wriggling like a fish on a line who just couldn't wait to be hauled bodily out the dull ocean and eaten raw.

And then Kim Deal came out immediately afterwards and chain smoked her frantic set away while not just blowing up the room, somehow, with an acoustic guitar, but she also managed to elbow, kick and head butt a whole cage of pedals around her, all the time singing with the cigarettes still in her mouth.

So, obviously, that whole show was the second time.

That year's third big-deal, pure, adrenaline surge of joy came, of course, in a record store. I was the good part of a year into my quest to find The Holy Grail. Not the real thing of course; that was of no interest. Rather, as should be obvious to the dedicated readers of the Dollar Bin, I was searching for my own copy of Neil Young's On The Beach.

I've already outlined how I'd heard the record long before finding my own copy, so suffice it to say that when I finally came upon On The Beach in a Venice Beach shop that year I screamed out loud and ran all over the shop, bearing it aloft in my triumphant hands. Keep in mind that this would have been late 1993 or early 94: eight or so years before Nabster and very much in the era when Young refused to issue the album on either CD or tape, meaning that you literally could not listen unless you found a vinyl copy or found some Neil Young freak to tape it for you.

Well, last weekend, when I talked that same ladyfriend, now my very patient wife, into dropping me off at Amoeba Records in Berkeley in the middle of our 12 hour drive home from a Spring Break trip, I did not run around whooping with another Neil Young record in my triumphant hands.

But I should have!

After all, look what I found after 30 full years of searching:

That's right, folks. I passed on 60 individual Dollar Bin finds and bought my first vinyl copy of Ragged Glory instead (that's not strictly true: I bought 18 other records at the same time for a buck each, so I didn't actual passed on anything - but saying so justifies my extravagance).

Okay, it's time to actually drop the needle (very carefully!) on this thing. Let's do this.

Good God...

I've already written about the record, without actually owning it, twice so feel free to read my Part 1 and/or Part 2. But I'm here to tell you that, after an initial 10 years of listening to the album on the tape I bought at age 14, then another 25 of listening to it digitally, it may be all in my imagination but I feel like I'm listening to Ragged Glory for the first time. It sounds like Neil is performing Country Home while riding piggyback on my shoulders. And we're hang gliding through flames.

Okay, I'm actually having a bit of a religious experience. Jesus Frickin' Cristo: Young is forever going on and on about how the perfect echo dies when you transfer his music to digital and, even though I'm a big record guy, I always kinda roll my eyes. After all, I've said it before and I'll say it again: I dwell in the Dollar Bin, not Nathan's VGG++ Nerd Shack.

And don't get me wrong, as advertized there is some bustle and pop on my new copy. But I'd be disappointed if the occasional scuffle weren't there: they add the kind of textures Joe Freakin' Lala could never even attempt, and, Sweet Billy Talbot, I'm hearing bass notes I've never heard before and the drums - THE DRUMS!

(By the way: you can disregard all the shade I cast on Love To Burn in one of those earlier posts - that track just started up and it suddenly sounds fresh and urgent as it spins forth from my record's new, precious grooves. I suspect the same thing will have during Love and Only Love when I get there...)

I'm so happy, friends. I'm SO HAPPY all over again. I'd even slow dance with Stephen Stills right now if he asked, just as long as we blasted my personal copy of Ragged Glory while we swayed.

#neil young #shakey sundays #amoeba records #jon spencer blues explosion #the breeders #stephen stills sucks #joe freakin' lala #Youtube

[tryst-art-archive]

This is an archive of work made by @tryskits from 2000 to 2020.

It's an art and writing archive, but it's also a record of how I grew up online, blemishes and all, and of who I was before I transitioned.

Before I was TrysKits, I was Refkins, and before I was Refkins, I was Rhawen. Getting from one me to the next was nonlinear and involved a lot of cringe-inducing moments, but I think acknowledging how growth is uncomfortable and messy is important, especially when so much of our lives are made public. I also, personally, like being able to look back at who I used to be. Reflecting on where we came from helps contextualize where we are, and I find I need that kind of perspective a lot of the time.

Below the cut, you'll find a timeline of my personal history for context, as well as guidance on navigating the archive's tags.

If you'd like to see what I'm making in the present day, you can follow @tryskits (or @tryskits-art if you want just the art w/o the reblogs), or you can find me at any of the links here.

History

The following is intended to give you a reference point for the works contained in this archive.

[Rhawen] Neopets was my entry point to the World Wide Web, and I joined it when I was still in elementary school. The 2000 - 2003 period of this archive covers this span.

[Rhawen > Refkins] I moved to deviantArt in 2004, when I was 13, and I proceeded to hang out there until I went to college in 2009, whereupon I disappeared from online creative spaces for nearly a decade.

[Refkins] During high school (2005 - 2009), I was one of the art kids and misfits, and I took some summer art classes. I also was drawn to writing and webcomics, but I never managed to get any of the latter off the ground.

[Refkins] In college, I studied Writing, Literature and Publishing and I had a minor in Photography. I was still making lots of stuff during this period of time, but most of it didn't make its way online until much later, and I was doing very little drawing.

In 2014, I began working QA in the game industry. I keep my game dev and creative identities separate on purpose, so that's all I'll say about it here, but it's worth knowing that my career and experience in game dev impacted how I made and thought about my own projects going forward.

[Refkins] In 2017 (age 26) and 2018 (age 27), I got hit with the drawing bug in a big way and made some overtures at returning to deviantArt. I uploaded the things I'd made over the previous 8-9 years. Unfortunately, it didn't stick.

[Refkins] From 2018 to 2020 I spent a lot of time writing, having finally moved past the burnout college induced.

[Refkins > TrysKits] In 2019, I got struck with the idea for Tarot Town, which you can learn more about via my main. TT proved to be the means through which I figured out that I am a trans man.

[TrysKits] In 2021, I socially transitioned, becoming Trystan (or Tryst for short). It was also the year I turned 30.

This archive ends with the conclusion of 2020 and the end of a major phase of my life--the pre-transition years and everything they contained.

Tag Guide

Content Type

The media type is pretty much always tagged, e.g., #sketch #illustration #prose , etc.

All visual works are tagged with #art archive

All written works are tagged with #writing archive

Anything that documents my years on deviantArt is tagged #deviantArt archive

While I've rarely done fanart, you can differentiate between that and original works with #fanart #fanfic #oc art #oc writing

#NSFW is used to denote works that explicitly depict sex, even when said depictions are censored.

#suggestive is used to denote works that imply sexual content but which don't outright depict it.

Furry works are tagged with both #furry and #anthro

Works depicting other peoples' IP are tagged with "others' OCs" and any other salient information about the character/creature/etc.

#mild nudity indicates that a character is in the buff but no detail is shown (e.g., no nips, genitalia, butt)

#nudity indicates that a character is naked and there's some amount of detail.

TrysKits IP

You can find work related to the stories set in Khra under #Khra-nicles

Work related to the roleplay my best friend and I used to do as teens is under #The RP

Work relating to my (defunct) first attempt to develop a webcomic is under #Redux/Project SE

Work relating to my (defunct) second attempt to develop a webcomic is under #A Practical Guide to Good vs Evil

Work relating to my (possibly zombified) third and fourth attempts to develop a webcomic are under #EC/WC

[I'll add more as they come up.]

Characters are tagged with their first and last name (assuming they have one of the latter). Middle names are left out if a character has one.

^ With exceptions: #Unge S. Chickt #Rhawen Evergreen Fox

Regardless of what they were called at the time of a work's creation, depictions of my primary fursona are tagged with #Refs

Not every OC is tagged. I focused on ones I felt were significant.

Temporal Organization

Each piece is tagged with my age at the time of its creation. Ex: #Age 14

Each piece is tagged with the decade it was created in. Ex: 00s

Each piece is tagged with the specific year it was created in. Ex: 2005

#pinned post #me

[popentertainment-interviews]

Clarissa Riddles/Purcell

Transformed by Irish Sean Nos Singing, Musician Redefines Her Style For All Her Audiences

by Brad Balfour

Sometimes, a musician comes across the computer screen which produces a profile not just because of the music but the backstory, too. That was certainly the case for singer/songwriter Clarissa Riddles (née Purcell) who not only found her voice through jazz but traditional Irish music as well.

Based in Nashville, the classically trained pianist and vocalist wrote the songs on her latest record, Be Still My Soul, “as a tribute to God and the scripture which had brought her out of an intense personal struggle into a new life.”

That provocation was confirmed by Wilderside Productions’ Matt Wilder — producer of this album: “When I first met Clarissa years ago, her talent was immediately clear. A gifted and diverse singer, songwriter and painter, who, like so many great artists, had a self-destructive streak and struggled with addiction. I believe dealing with internal turmoil is part of what drives many great artists to create.

“Over the years we’ve both been through many life changes — and in Clarissa’s case finding sobriety, getting married, having a child, and most of all, turning her life over to God as she understood him [to be]. I was thrilled when she approached me about making an album about redemption, recovery and faith. 

“I recognized my own struggles in hers, and in her surrender. These Celtic-flavored songs are like beautiful mystic upwellings rising from her soul as she was born into a new life. It’s healing music that envelopes and comforts you with grace, humility and beauty. A true work of art by a great artist I consider myself blessed to collaborate with.”

So upon listening to Clarissa’s melodically rich vocalizations of these recently released songs, a search into her past led to lots more releases and songs. From jazz-inflected compositions to her Irish-influenced recent productions, Riddles/Purcell is an artist-performer worth exploring.

The late 30-something grew up in Northern Virginia, near Washington DC, Fairfax, and the Annandale area. Now, the Nashville resident Purcell works part-time at the YMCA and is a full-time mother. Now that her daughter is turning eight and in school, she’s been able to commit more time to music. “I have always made money on the side with creative pursuits, little jobs, playing background music for restaurants, and selling artwork.

“Recently, I have been able to make a little extra by working for commercial music placements, advertising and some work for music library/sync licensing. But it’s been sporadic; hence the YMCA gig.”

What’s your background — musically and otherwise?

I’ve done music my whole life, different genres, classical training, etc. I grew up in a musical family. We were exposed to mostly classical music. My dad was a well-known baritone singer and entertainer who could play and sing almost any request from the great American songbook. My mom had a beautiful voice and sang in the church choir along with us kids.

I spent a lot of time from junior high onward making up songs and accompanying myself in the singer/songwriter fashion. My first love with songwriting was in the folk tradition. A return to that with this latest album, while being something novel, was a familiar ground with the simple melody and poetic lyrics I often wrote in my younger days. I went on to study jazz piano at University of Tennessee under the tutelage of renowned pianist and composer Donald Brown who had played with Art Blakey’s Jazz Messengers. He encouraged me to pursue composing and we often traded ideas and tunes. 

You're just building your new identity now — where do you see it going?

With this latest album, I feel like I have stumbled upon what I was really meant to do, both artistically and from a spiritual perspective. I just wanted to clarify that. When I first conceived this album project, it was after being inspired by the music section in the movie Brooklyn, where Iarla o Lionaird sang a Sean-nos song, which was a kind of hauntingly beautiful melody and lilting in the voice that I had never heard before. It absolutely blew me away. It really thrilled my soul, and it had been such a long time since I had felt inspired by music that way.

Then I discovered another Sean nos singer on the Irish John Murray show. I ended up learning this same Gaelic folk song that she performed, and later e-met Saileog Ni Cheannabhain, the gifted singer on the show who introduced many to the distinctly Irish tradition of Sean-nos singing. Later, I had the opportunity to take a few lessons from her during the Covid lockdowns via Skype.

It was then that I was inspired to make an album that was a return to the early American hymn tradition, incorporating these lilting variations in the melody line (also known as ornamentation in sean-nos). The result is an amalgamation of American and Irish singer/songwriter tradition.

I had arrived at a crossroads in some personal struggles and in my addiction — and what appeared to be an end-of-the-road financial crisis. These hymns are meant to be an intimate, personal tribute to God, as he walked me through a series of struggles and helped me to overcome my suffering with his grace.

I also had the generous help of an old friend and talented producer, Matt Wilder, who had been around to see me when I hit rock bottom. He had worked with me back then — when my drinking problem kept getting in the way. When he saw how seriously I was committed to recovery, I was able to record these songs at his studio on a tight budget, after closing, just singing and playing piano together by myself for all the takes. He then selected my best live takes.

We would later add Grammy award-winning fiddle player Jenee Fleenor and London Symphony musician/composer John Mock to the recordings. We are planning on hiring a backing band for future performances.

I obviously want to grow my audience and reach out to as many people as possible. In such a divided world we live in now I would like to restore some belief that there is something bigger out there that will bring us peace and serenity. I hope my songs focus on something other than politics. My hope is that this music will help “restore us to sanity” — myself included.

Is your music Irish with American influences or American with Irish influences?

I am an American with Irish highlights. Yes, my husband is from Dublin, but I grew up in northern Virginia. My heritage is largely Irish/Scottish/and English according to my family tree. 

Of late I see my main influence is Sean nos Celtic and spiritual music. I was not exposed to much American pop music growing up, so I think my main influence is 1940/1950 blues, jazz and old school jazz standards of the Frank Sinatra era. Plus Ella Fitzgerald, Lena Horne, Billie Holliday, Peggy Lee and Etta James to mention just a few.

Growing up we had season tickets to Kennedy Center, and I was exposed to opera, symphonic music and performed in Handel’s Messiah along with family members at Columbia Baptist Church.

So old church hymns like “Amazing Grace,” classic composers of the Romantic era such as Chopin, and Rachmaninov and singers such as Eva Cassidy and Barbara Streisand were influences as well. 

But my many visits to Ireland had a transformative impact on my music going forward. The wistful beauty of the landscape, the romance of the storytelling tradition in Ireland’s music were all very inspiring. 

Meeting Chris had a similar impact on me as well. Chris came to the USA in 1990 but his feet are still planted firmly on Irish soil. All his family are there, and he would bring me to seisuns in Kerry, Clare and Galway. A favorite stop off in Ireland is Gus O’ Connor’s pub in Doolin. 

I was very drawn to the Sean-nos’ style of singing and love listening to local Irish musicians, The Cranberries, Enya, Saileog O Cheannabhain, Iarla O Lionaird and the traditional Irish group ‘Danu From County Kerry.

How did you two meet?

I met Chris later on after college at a small party with close friends. We hit it off right away. We have been visiting his large Irish family in Dublin ever since 2011. 

It was there in places like Doolin, Dingle and the West coast of Ireland that I learned about Irish seisuns. With my jazz background of improvisation, I was able to incorporate this beautiful, highly ornamented singing style into my new album, Be Still My Soul. It is a bit of a challenge when recording to not change up the phrasing on each take though.

Purcell is my married name. Riddles is my maiden name. I use Clarissa Purcell for the Be Still album and all my recent music with the Celtic spiritual influence. I use Clarissa Riddles on all my Jazz compositions.

This project was a new genre for me, but I come from a very musical background, having sung and played piano since I was young. I grew up singing and playing church hymns. I started doing original music around 12 years of age. Then I majored in jazz piano in college.

After having done this record, what plans do you have in the immediate and with your overall career?

My future plans include finishing an album of love songs with producer Matt Wilder and the completed production of ten more songs of this same kind that we’re already in the process of finishing — along with some favorite old American hymns.

Copyright ©2022 PopEntertainment.com. All rights reserved. Posted: June 5, 2022.

Photos ©2022. Courtesy of Clarissa Riddles. All rights reserved.

#Clarissa Riddles #2022 #Music Interview #Be Still My Soul #Brad Balfour

[glimmerbugart]

Have You Checked Out My Online Art Classes?

If you’re like me and back to school is always a crazy time of year, I feel your pain! It’s a constant daily grind of getting things done, appointments, back to school shopping, menu/lunch planning, sports practices, orientations and a bevy of other daily craziness that goes on!

With that being said, I wanted to share with you the many online art classes that I have available! From watercolors and journals to Halloween and Holiday projects, there’s a good amount of classes to choose from so that you can work at your own pace and get your creativity flowing!

Taking an online art class offers several positive aspects that can enhance your learning experience and artistic development. Here are some benefits:

Flexibility: Online art classes allow you to learn at your own pace and on your own schedule. You can choose when and where to work on your assignments, making it easier to balance your artistic pursuits with other commitments.

Accessibility: Regardless of your geographical location, you can access high-quality art instruction from anywhere in the world. This eliminates the need to relocate or commute to a physical class, broadening your options.

Diverse Resources: Online art classes often provide a wide range of resources, including videos, tutorials, reading materials, and interactive assignments. This variety can cater to different learning styles and help you grasp concepts more effectively.

Personalized Learning: Many online art classes offer opportunities for one-on-one feedback and guidance from instructors. This personalized attention can help you identify your strengths and areas for improvement, leading to more targeted growth.

Global Community: Online art classes often connect you with a diverse community of fellow artists from around the world. Engaging with peers can expose you to different perspectives, styles, and techniques, fostering a collaborative and supportive environment.

Cost-Effectiveness: Online classes often have lower tuition fees than traditional in-person classes, as they don't require physical facilities or materials. This can make quality art education more affordable and accessible.

No Commute: With online classes, you save time and money that would otherwise be spent on commuting. This extra time can be dedicated to actual art practice or other activities.

Self-Discipline and Time Management: Online art classes require self-discipline and time management skills. By participating in such classes, you can develop these valuable skills that are beneficial not only for art but for various aspects of your life.

Customization: Online classes often allow you to choose specific courses that align with your interests and goals. This flexibility means you can tailor your learning experience to suit your artistic aspirations.

Continual Learning: Many online art platforms offer a wide range of courses on different topics and skill levels. This means you can continue to learn and grow as an artist, moving from one course to another as your skills evolve.

Less Intimidating Environment: For those who might feel shy or anxious in a traditional classroom setting, online art classes provide a more comfortable environment to express yourself and share your work.

Recording and Revisiting: Online classes often provide recordings of lectures and demonstrations. This allows you to revisit lessons, techniques, and concepts whenever you need a refresher.

#Online Watercolor Class #Online Mixed Media Workshops #Online Art Classes

[leviathan-supersystem]

people will be like “we need to bring back the word poser” and then will be like “my chemical romance is a classic punk band”

are you sure you want to bring back the word poser. are you sure. are you really sure. are you sure you will benefit from that.

#for the record my perspective on this is that i spent my high school years being into True Punk and True Deathrock #and i spent an inordinate amount of time raging against The Posers (mcr fans in particular) #and i now view that whole chapter of my life as a stupid regrettable waste of time #so #take that as you may

[depresseddepot]

I know the weird disconnect of seeing yourself on video is not a unique experience and everyone has experienced it at one point but honestly a) who the fuck is that bitch in the video and why is she the one doing the talking and b) the weird behaviors people do around me make a lot more sense now

#for clarification i had to record a zoom call and ive never done that before so i was watching it back out of curiosity #my mannerisms and inability to stay looking at one thing doesn't look like im nervous like i thought it did. i look fucking insane #i look like im high on something and ready to goddamn snap #i otherwise articulate and held the conversation well and was responsible etc etc academic nonsense. but what the fuck was that #that person was not me. visuals and voice dissociation aside i didn't recognize myself at all #ive spent years making myself communicable to the point where i like to imagine my weird ticks are overlooked #but i can tell that is definitely Not The Case ! #it was mostly fine up until this point where i was expressing genuine emotion #like u know how in academic small talk you are NOT yourself you are yourself through a smart filter?? #most of it was that and like yes that isnt how i am and i know that #but someone mentioned something abt how glad they were the class was online #and i immediately was like 'omg me too' and was talking about why #and i remember so vividly like the rush that sort of agreement comes in #but the video of me saying that was. not what i was feeling #like dont get me wrong its not like i was frowning when i meant to grin or something obv like that #but i KNOW myself and i KNOW what my ticks mean and why i do specific ones at specific points but #from an outsider perspective i just looked crazy????i have spent so long teaching myself how to be normal and its not working???? #god i cant even IMAGINE how fucking weird i looked in high school doing presentations then. #the quiet scary kid stands up and has a well thought out articulate presentation but is twitching and restless #and looking around like they're all coming at her with a fucking knife #this discovery is awful right now but maybe its good for me in the long run #bc now that ive seen how goddamn weird i am when im trying so hard to be normal maybe i can internalize that like #even when im trying my hardest im still an unapproachable weird bitch ♡♡♡♡ #the reason nobody talks to me or approaches me in public the way they do everyone else is because i look so paranoid they're* #*afraid ill snap and hurt them or make a scene when in reality im just trying to be so fucking normal for once #what do my PARENTS think #how did they raise someone like THAT and think 'yeah that embarrasses me less than the idea of seeing a doctor abt it. so.' #jfc. goodnight

[shemarmooresfedora]

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Masterlist

Chapter 2

Your phone buzzed as you were giving Jo a bath. You swiped accept and pressed the phone between your ear and shoulder.

“Hello?” you spoke.

“Y/N? Hi, it’s JJ, Henry’s mom,” JJ answered.

“Oh hi! What can I do for you?” you chirped.

“I hope it’s okay I got your contact information from Mrs. Flynn. Henry has been dying to have Josephine over for a play date,” she explained.

“Jo would love that! She was just telling me about how Henry and her pretended to be dinosaurs the entire recess,” you laughed.

“Oh my, thank god I didn’t get a call from the school about any biting. Anyways, I could pick Jo up after school tomorrow and bring her home with us if that’s alright,” JJ offered.

“Of course, I’ll let the school know when I drop her off that she can go home with you. I’ll pick her up at like 5,” you replied.

“Sounds good! Bye Y/N!” JJ responded.

“Bye! See you then!” you hung up the phone.

You were excited that one of the moms had finally called you. It seemed like most of the moms of the kindergarten class had a clique. They all lived in the same posh neighborhood and you had heard they had cookouts where they would all gossip about the other parents while their husbands grilled. You undoubtedly were a source of their gossip. Just because you didn’t fit into their cookie cutter lifestyle apparently deemed you not good enough for Jo to play with their kids.

-

You lightly knocked on the door.

“Hey!” JJ exclaimed as she opened the door.

“Hi!” you waved back.

“Come in, come in. The kids are in the backyard. They are actually getting a lesson from Henry’s godfather about dinosaurs. They seem very enraptured,” JJ chuckled.

“We can give them a few more minutes. I’m actually so glad you called. I’ve been trying to schedule play dates with kids for Jo for months but I had kind of given up at this point,” you stated.

“Yeah let’s face it, some of these moms are absolute bitches. They don’t like that I am an FBI agent. Apparently it’s not very ‘ladylike’,” JJ grinned.

“Exactly! Like is this high school?” you agreed, “I don’t understand how Jo’s father not being in the picture makes her any less of a good kid. It’s like they have a checklist that the kids have to follow.”

“Well then Jo and Henry can just be best friends and stick it to them. That preppy gated neighborhood is such a far drive anyways. Also, if you ever need someone to watch Jo, Will and I are more than happy to help,” JJ offered.

“Thank you, that means a lot. We better get going so I can get started on dinner. Next play date can be at our house. I’ll text you about a day and time once I check my calendar,” you smiled.

“Perfect! The kids are right out back so you can just call out through the window for them,” JJ said.

“Jo, honey! Mommy’s here! We gotta get going!” you called out even though you couldn’t see her through the window.

“But Mommy, Spencer was just telling us about the stegosaurus and you know that’s my favorite one,” Jo whined.

Spencer? It couldn’t be. Oh god, JJ did mention she was an FBI agent. Your eyes visibly widened and the color drained from your face as you ran for the porch door.

When you opened the door, Spencer’s head snapped up to meet you. You avoided all eye contact with him, walking straight over to Josephine.

“Josephine, we are leaving now,” you said firmly and scooped the child up, briskly walking to the car.

You buckled her in record time and pulled out of the LaMontagne’s driveway as quickly as you could.

It’s been seven years without any contact and suddenly he was everywhere.

-

“What was that?” JJ asked, “Y/N was completely fine one second and then she looked like she had seen a ghost.”

“Y/N and I dated in college,” Spencer whispered, trying to process his second interaction with you in less than two days.

“How many years ago?” JJ asked.

“Seven,” Spencer furrowed his brow.

“Spence, Josephine just turned six. That plus the pregnancy would be nearly seven years. She has said the father was never in the picture,” JJ slowly explained as she was putting the pieces together herself.

“N-no, Y/N, s-she would have told me, right?” Spencer was shaking his head profusely.

“Well how did your relationship end?” JJ asked.

“I-um I broke up with her when I got accepted to the academy because I didn’t think it was fair to keep her waiting for me,” Spencer stuttered.

“Let’s look at this from her perspective, you dumped her and then moved across the country. Spence, no offense but if I was her, I probably wouldn’t have told you either,” JJ spoke softly.

Spencer remembered the kid’s hazel eyes and curly brown hair that was eerily similar to his now that he thought about it.

“I’m going to be sick,” Spencer ran off to the bathroom.

After a few minutes, JJ knocked hesitantly at the bathroom door.

“Are you alright in there, Spence?”

“Just trying to cope with the fact that I most likely had a daughter out living in this world for six years that I didn’t know about,” he mumbled.

JJ opened the door and walked in.

“Well, do you want to get to know her?” JJ asked.

Spencer smiled softly as he leaned back against the bathroom wall, remembering the adorable giggly little girl he spent the afternoon with.

“Yeah, I would love nothing more but I’m not sure Y/N feels the same way,” he spoke softly.

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #reid x reader #spencer reid #cm fanfic #spencer x reader

[princessofprocrastination]

Not The Same (GeorgeNotFound)

summary : you put out a song, but it attracted the wrong type of crowd and caused too many misunderstandings.

trigger warnings : threats (including death and doxing), panic attacks, taking of meds. 

"you're THOSE type of fans, huh?" you read the comments on your newest song release.

and that was the start of your downfall.

-

you and your dad really enjoyed singing. at any opportunity you two got, you would be doing a duet.

whether that would be at at a close relative's wedding or your at home karaoke set up, you two knew how to entertain people.

though singing was your passion, you ended up being too busy with school and trying to graduate with a diploma to even think about singing again.

but you swore to make a career of your singing after high school. you just loved it too much.

but then, you didn't go to college for music, which pretty much shocked your parents and your friends since they knew your only passion in life was singing.

but you took a different direction. you still wanted to sing and you were trying your hardest to find a way to make that your career.

someday, anyway. but you needed to have a plan to fall back into in case anything goes wrong.

you were a realist, after all.

so off to college you went.

you spent long hours studying for tests after tests, sat through hours of lectures, did endless amounts of projects.

in the end, it was all worth the wait and fatigue. you graduated top of your class.

you went off to be an intern, clocked in more hours before you could fully go into the next phase of your life.

and after those long hours, you finally made the decision (with the support of your parents) to take a gap year.

but before anyone panics. your gap year was not all fun in games where you took to rest and lay in bed all day.

you took the gap year to see if the music industry fits you. to see if you even had the chance to succeed.

and if it did, you could finally have your dream job. but even if it didn't you were not going to be upset if you needed to fall back onto your backup plan.

in the duration of the gap year, you took voice lessons, and poetry classes for song writing.

and with whatever you have learnt, you took that into writing songs that you felt really relate to your life experiences.

so you spend at least a couple months writing multiple songs.

after almost 2 years, you finally came out with your first song. and it definitely got recognition. more than you thought you'd get, if you were being completely honest.

and that was what pushed you to sit your ass back on your desk to write more, and go into your makeshift studio and make the words into songs.

your parents were ecstatic to hear that you were finally doing the things you loved. and you knew you'd never get this far if it weren't for your family's support.

and so your music journey began.

it was going well for years. you were finally happy doing the one thing you enjoyed doing.

and you definitely think you were good at it. seeing and hearing the positive feedbacks from your family, friends and listeners. 

you felt good. 

but you lost that feeling when you came out with a new single, called ‘fan of you’. 

you spent a while working hard on that song and you felt relieved when it was finally released. it was like a weight was lifted off your shoulders. 

and you weren’t sure how one thing led to another, if you were being honest. at first, you received good feedback for your new songs. you even gained new listeners and your spotify rank rised. 

but then it didn’t anymore. 

your twitter flooded with mentions and your instagram full of tagged pictures and dms by accounts you’ve never heard of. 

but you noticed a similarity with all of the spam. a guy name george. georgenotfound for short.

you being you, you looked into it. and that was when all of the information hit you. and all you had to look up was your name on twitter, and there it was, the longest thread of tweets you have ever seen in your life. 

you took time to read it all, trying to make sure you didn’t miss anything crucial. 

there must be an understanding. you didn’t know this guy name george. you’ve seen his face on pinterest once a while when you scrolled, yes. but you never looked into him. 

this amazing person took their time to gather every bit of information there was about the scandal, which you were grateful for, or else you’d be scouring the internet for hours. 

to summarise what you read, there was this artist by the name of tia jade who came out with a song a few months prior to yours called ‘just a fan.’ 

it was a good song, some say, and you could agree. it was professionally written and produced. but many fans of george found out that the song was about him. 

not just about him, but about her falling in love with him, when she has never met him. and when his fans started to really listen and analyse the song, it got creepier. 

basically, the song was about a fan falling in love with a celebrity/content creator and that they want to know them beyond their persona online. 

but tia had apologised a little after the song came out, saying that she made that song based on a fan liking a content creator, and not about her falling for george. 

but when you read enough of the issue, it definitely did seem like she was making that song to tell her story about falling for george. but she obviously needed an excuse to cover it up. 

hence the apology. 

and then you read about how they analysed your song, too.

they compared your song to tia’s and found it to have similar stories. stories about how a normal girl is falling in love with the man by the name of george, who had millions of followers on all social medias. 

and if you admitted it to yourself, your song did seem to come out that way. especially if your mentality had been there. clearly your song could have been interpreted in many different ways. 

you scrolled to the very bottom of the thread where there was a video of the man himself, george. he was addressing the issue. 

“i don’t know how this happened twice. i thought once was weird enough, but.” he paused, focusing on building something on his screen. 

“having heard of a song being about me again now makes my skin crawl.” he finished. it was short but enough to make his fans understand where he was coming from. 

you scrolled further to see the replies of the thread. you wanted to know what were people saying about it. 

and you definitely regretted your decision to do that. 

threats everywhere. death threats, threats of beating you up, threats of doxing you. god the negative comments were drowned by the one’s that genuinely thought nothing wrong of your song. 

you called you mom. this was the time you needed her advice. you needed to be told what to do. you didn’t want to accidentally trigger people. 

you and her were on the phone for hours. she listened to you cried to her. she heard the painful sobs that came out of your mouth whenever you reminded yourself of what people were calling you on the internet. 

she heard you cry silently on call when you saw your address and phone number being leaked on twitter. 

but even through all of that, you joked around with your mom. “well, this was a hell of a way to be trending.” 

you did what she told you to do. get a new phone number, stay in a hotel for a couple days while you try to settle the raging crowd of georgenotfound fans down. 

in the span of a couple weeks, you got yourself a new number, a new house and a new car. you weren’t taking any chances. 

you told no one besides your mom of the new changes, just to be safe. 

and no, the threats did not cease. at all. these people did not have a life, constantly up in your dms, telling you to jump off a cliff or them hoping that a robber stabs you and leaves you dying. 

you took your time trying to figure out a way to talk to george. or a way to speak out about this. 

you didn’t want to write a half-assed notes app paragraph apologising when- first of all, you had nothing to apologise for and second, you had too much to say to fit it all in a notes app. 

lucky for you, you didn’t need to start your own channel or make a sit down video on your own. 

your recording label had brought up the idea of a documented series about you and how you became a singer about a year ago, and only started filming and posting the episodes a couple months prior on youtube. 

so you took the series to your advantage. you pitched in the idea to your manager, to which she agreed to immediately, knowing that it was best you talked about it now. 

this was how it played out on the perspective of viewers who watched that episode. 

“bless you.” your producer says after you paused your singing in the mic as you stopped to sneeze. 

you gave him a smile and a thumbs up from inside the booth. 

the camera cuts to another clip. 

the cameraman pans as they captured movers coming in and out of your old house, picking up your heavy furniture and boxes into large trucks to move into the new place.

 it cuts again. this time it shows you scrolling on your phone with a focused face while your manager types something vigorously on her computer. 

the camera tries to focus on your phone, and sees that you were on twitter, reading a lot of tweets under your name. 

you exited the app and slide it away, going into youtube next, reading the comments on your song ‘fan of you’. 

you scrolled far, clicking on some of the comments, trying to read the replies to certain comments you saw. 

the camera cuts into a black screen. which then cuts again into a new scene, where you sat on your new kitchen counter talking to your mother, who sat on the chair in front of you. 

your hair was up in a ponytail. a messy one. you were wearing sweatpants and a hoodie that seemed far too big on you, and your feet covered with fluffy socks.

you were nodding to whatever she was saying to you. it was clear your mind was elsewhere as your eyes were unfocused. 

the scene cuts again. 

you were seen on the couch, your legs were tucked into your arms and your head down, body shaking. it was obvious you were crying. 

you were alone, your mother no where to be seen. 

that was the first time the camera caught you crying. 

the scene cuts as you were going to get up from the couch. 

now, you were in the kitchen again, opening the refrigerator to take a water bottle, then walking to your room upstairs. 

the camera follows behind you slowly into your room. 

it hadn’t been the cleanest. there were a couple shirts on the floor, your bed undone, cups on your side table, your laptop open on your desk. 

you were seen opening a drawer, taking out a small white bottle. you unscrewed the bottle and took out 2 pills, popping them in your mouth, drinking water straight away after that to swallow. 

the scene cuts again. 

this time, you were seated on the couch in the studio, the atmosphere dark and quiet. 

your hair was more kept this time, being help up in a clip. 

you were wearing straight jeans and a slightly oversized sweatshirt. you looked more refreshed this time. but it was obvious you hadn’t slept in a while because of your eyes.

your eyes that usually held a lot of happiness and joy turned dull. 

“it’s been a while since i’ve spoken to a camera.” you offered a small smile. your song ‘just a fan’ was playing in the background of the clip. 

the scene cuts again. 

“when i released that song, i was genuinely proud of the work i had done.” you paused for a while. besides the song playing in the background, it was silent. 

“but i guess the joy didn’t last very long.” the scene cuts there. 

it transitioned to a collage of what people were saying about you. it showed clips of people talking about it on youtube. they even showed george talking about it. 

and it cuts again. 

it showed a different clip this time. a clip of your ex boyfriend and you at the beach on a picnic, that was taken by a close friend of yours. 

this was when you were still in college. 

it showed all the fun memories you two made while you were still together. 

it showed a video of him studying in the library, flipping through his papers and scrolling through his laptop. it was clear he was hard at work, not noticing you filming him. 

but then the scene cuts again. and the music turned somber. 

your ex boyfriend’s grave. 

it was the day you were visiting him. you sat down next to his stone, a blanket under you. 

you were just staring at his stone, not moving. 

and it cuts again. 

“he was one of the most driven person i have ever met.” you told the camera. 

“he knew when to be serious and when to have fun.” you looked down in your hands and played with your rings. 

“all he ever talked about was becoming a surgeon. he worked hard in his intern years and continued being passionate through his residency.” you spoke up. 

“people had only nice things to say about him. the only bad thing they would say about him is that he can be pretty uptight sometimes, especially when he was stressed about something.” you laughed a little. 

“i was a huge fan of him, even when we just saw each other in the hallways. he’s just amazing. i’ve always wanted to be just like him.”

“i wanted to write a song about him but i didn’t the song to be sad.” you said. 

“and that was when the song ‘fan of you’ was created. 

the scene cuts there and goes into another. 

you were in the recording booth again, this time, you were singing into the mic. 

the camera pans to your producer and manager dancing and bobbing their heads to the beat. 

the scene cuts, officially ending it with a black screen with ‘the end’ in a fancy white font. 

you busied yourself with writing new songs as your name got trended again on twitter. 

and george has never felt worse about himself ever in his entire life. 

-

he watched the episode as soon as dream sent it to him. 

“you’re an asshole, george.” dream sends to him, along with the link of the video on youtube. 

as the video ends, he decides to read the comments, wondering what it was like down there. 

it was the worse mistake he had ever made in a while. 

but he knew he deserved it. he did assumed it was about him, just like the last song made with a drawing of his glasses as their cover photo on spotify. 

this time, there was genuinely no reason to think that this song was about him, or anyone with a following whatsoever. he just believed what his chat told him. 

sure, there were some familiarity of the character in your song and him, but the world did have 7.6 billion people living on it. 

“so, here i am apologising.” george says to his camera, live. his tone was very sincere and apologetic. 

“this shouldn’t have gotten this far. they shouldn’t have gotten threats at all, let alone death threats. they shouldn’t have woken up to the world knowing where they live and what their phone number is.” 

“and if you’re watching. i sincerely apologise. i clearly was full of myself.” george finishes. ending the live with a small wave. 

and were you watching? hell yes. 

and that was the day the two of you followed each other on instagram. 

he used your songs as his intros of his live, (with your permission, of course.) you showed in your documentary that you were watching whenever he was live or watching his youtube videos. 

and that was the start to a beautiful relationship. 

you sat on the chair, going live. you waved as people started joining. it went from hundreds, to thousands in seconds. 

as you were talking and clicking on your keyboard and mouse, playing a game, you felt arms around your shoulders. 

you smiled, yet continued playing. 

“why are you live on my account?” he laughs. 

you disconnected the headphones so that he could hear what you were hearing. 

“george, you’re being replaced.” dream said on discord. 

george smiles, giving you a kiss on the top of your head. “that was well deserved.” 

#georgenotfound imagines #georgenotfound imagine #georgenotfound fanfic #georgenotfound x reader #georgenotfound

[quokkacore]

with great power I [lee jeno]

summary: there are two things jeno loves most about his life. one being spiderman, the other being you, his best friend. there’s just one issue: after your father’s death, you decide you hate both spiderman and yourself.

pairing: lee jeno x reader

genre: superhero au, high school au, coming of age, best friends to strangers(ish) to lovers, fluff, ANGST, minor crack

warnings (for this chapter): language, violence, gun violence, the mafia, parental death, police presence, sexual references, bullying (ily san im sorry), the dreamies being dicks to each other, police corruption, towards the end jeno experiences something similar to sensory overload, americanized names, pop culture references, VERY jeno centric

song rec: we go up - nct dream // any song - zico // 21 questions - waterparks // talk (remix feat. megan thee stallion & yo gotti) - khalid // sunrise - ateez // i really like you - carly rae jepsen // dare - gorillaz // stray kids - the tortoise and the hare

word count: 10.5k

a/n: this is so late...... i blame attack on titan. but hey!! better late than never :] a huge thanks to @doderyscoffee​ for beta reading <3

main masterlist // story masterlist

chapter one: jeno and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week

Jeno despised Tuesdays. He was pretty sure that Tuesdays despised Jeno as well because all of his worst days just so happen to be Tuesdays. He was 96% sure that, if there was a god, his day off was on Tuesdays, or that the planets aligned in such a manner on Tuesdays that it caused universal despair and misery. If he was to take Donghyuck's word for it, his chakra attracted negative energy the most on Tuesdays.

When Jeno was 5, his goldfish Pippin had died on a Tuesday. When he had his ass handed to him on the playground by San Choi in the third grade, it was a Tuesday. And in the seventh grade, he'd failed his Spanish test, missed his bus and walked home in the rain only to find out that his Aunt Sunny was at work, he'd left his keys in his locker and that had to wait an hour before she got home to unlock it for him, all on a Tuesday. 

And wouldn't you know it, here he was, late for the first day of senior year, which was, of all days, a godforsaken Tuesday.

In his eternal wisdom, he'd stayed up gaming with Renjun until two in the morning, and because of it, slept through his three alarms, one set at six-thirty, the other at 6:45, the last one at 7:00. 

He'd woken up at 7:17, to the sound of his elderly neighbor's pet chihuahua barking at a pigeon, checked the time, immediately panicked, sped into the shower, gotten dressed in a haste, grabbed a few granola bars from the pantry, and ran out the door while trying to jam his backpack closed, and managed to catch the train at 7:40, which took about twenty minutes to get to his stop, plus a ten-minute walk to school, and class started at 8:10. Not to mention he’d have to stop by the office and pick up his schedule. At best, he’d be five minutes late to his first class. But tardies were tardies, regardless, and the last thing he needed was to lose his perfect attendance streak. 

He fished out his phone while standing on the train, waiting for his stop, scrolling through Instagram, and liking random pictures. A ping! from his phone caught his attention, then two, then a third. He smiled softly when your name popped up on his screen.

[7:48 AM]

y/n: pssst

y/n: shithead

y/n: where r u ????

[7:49 AM] 

y/n: i can sEE u online on ig u know

jeno: …… i'm on the train

jeno: woke up late

y/n: YOURE GONNA BE LATR

y/n: LATE*

y/n: ON THE FIRST DAY OF SENIOR YEAR

[7:50]

jeno: probably, yeah

jeno: it's the school district's fault, why would they make the first day of school on a fkn TUESDAY 

y/n: ohhh yeahh its terrible tuesday

y/n: [sent an attachment!]

[7:51 AM]

jeno: SHUT UP

jeno: you're not funny >:(

jeno: how dare you laugh at my misfortune

y/n: au contraire im hilarious

jeno: meanie :(

jeno: im gonna be late i hate it here

jeno: it'll end up on my permanent record and i'm not gonna get into college and then i'm gonna die,,,

[7:52 AM] 

y/n: sometimes ur worse than hyuck i swear 

y/n: FIRST OF ALL permanent records dont even exist !!!!!! its propaganda duh

y/n: also ur literally never late 

y/n: im sure o n e tardy wont do anything chill

y/n: dont be stupid youll be fine

Don’t be stupid. Too little, too late, he thought, already having got off the train at a previous stop. Now, he was looking for an unoccupied street or alleyway, which, for once, was easy, taking a deep breath before he did the exact opposite of what you’d told him not to do. Don’t be stupid. 

The buildings are low, he thought to himself, it’ll be easier to see me. 

Don’t be stupid.

Too late!

Thwip!

Jeno didn’t hesitate to use the web fluid to pull himself up onto the wall, climbing in a haste, before running and jumping onto the next building. He quickly built up a quick pace, using the web fluid occasionally to swing onto a building slightly out of jumping range. 

Signs in English, Chinese, Korean, and Spanish flew past him as he seemingly flew over the Queens traffic, leaving Flushing behind and crossing quickly into College Point quicker than he would if he took the train. He glanced to his left and caught a view of the bay, and far across it, the LaGuardia airport watchtower.

Jeno had lived in New York City his entire life. He knew Queens like the back of his hand, knew every dingy alleyway, every sketchy street, which restaurants to avoid if you didn’t want to get food poisoning, which convenience store aunties were the nicest and didn’t pinch his cheeks too hard. It was his home, and most likely would be for the rest of his life. 

But seeing it like this, flying past him below as he glided with ease from building to building would never cease to be a sight to him. It was like watching from the perspective of an outsider, seeing people in their cars, walking along the street gave him a brand new perspective. A Jeno’s eye view, he called it, since he was pretty sure he was the only one in New York City.

Another noise from his phone brought him back to reality. He shook his head, stopping briefly to catch his breath and fish out his phone briefly. 

[7:57 AM] 

y/n: let me know when u get here !!!

No time to respond, he put away the phone and continued his trek to school. He had less than ten minutes to get there. But he knew he was already at least five minutes away, much quicker than he would be if he had decided to stick to the train. He smiled a bit to himself, feeling ever so slightly smug.

The hustle and bustle of the city definitely proved challenging to find a place to land without many eyes, but he figured it out eventually, landing behind a dumpster in an alleyway behind a restaurant that he knew was about three or four blocks from the school. He figured it would be a lot better to take it on foot from here. The notebooks he was carrying in his backpack bounced up and down with every step he took. 

After what seemed like forever, the gates to the school appeared in his view, and Jeno felt a joy in his heaving chest, something he would have never thought would happen upon seeing the absolute hellhole that was Samuel Morse High School. 

[8:06 AM]

jeno: just did >:D

Picking up his schedule was both quick and insanely long. He couldn’t stop himself from tapping his left foot while the secretary found his schedule and handed it to him. “Kibum, please hurry,” He muttered, and Kibum raised an eyebrow at him, but his gaze was teasing. “That’s Mr. Kim to you, in school at least.” 

He handed Jeno his schedule a few seconds later. “Tell your Aunt to come pick up her casserole dish, by the way. She left it at my house after my last viewing party.”

“The Bachelor?”

“Please. We’re too classy for that. Drag Race.”

“Ah. I see.”

“Jeno,” Kibum said, staring up at him from his desk, his gaze now much more serious, “Get to class. Happy first day of senior year.”

“Thanks, Mr. Kim.”

He managed to make it to chemistry class at 8:09 with seconds to spare. His eyes quickly scanned the room upon entering, hoping his friends were in the class with him. He caught a few familiar faces, most of which, like San Choi's, he wished to avoid. No one paid him any mind. Everyone was still speaking to the people next to them, no doubt exchanging stories of summer vacation. 

  A hand shot up towards the back, waving at him. A smile stretched across his face as he registered your face, feet not hesitating to carry him towards the empty seat next to you. His heart skipped a beat at seeing your smile, and he tried his best to ignore it.

“Hey,” You greeted, “That was fast. I thought you said you were gonna be late.”

Jeno shrugged, eyes landing on the dark shade of the lab table. “The train was a lot faster than I expected, apparently.”

You wrinkled your nose. “Why do you smell so bad?”

“I, uh… ran a little.” 

You grimaced, and Jeno tried to casually sniff at his slightly sweaty clothes. It’s not that bad. “I still don’t understand why you won’t let me drive you to school. You’re literally next door.”

“I don’t know,” He answered, rolling his eyes, “Maybe it’s because when it comes to that truck, you are absolutely insane. You won’t even let me drink water in that thing.”

The truck in question, a faded red 1998 Chevrolet S-10, had been your gift to yourself for your 17th birthday. You’d spent two summers saving up to buy yourself a truck, and that was what you were able to get for what you had. To say it was a huge piece of junk on wheels was an understatement. 

The thing smelled like mothballs no matter how many air fresheners you bought it, the engine sounded like an old man having a coughing fit, and there was a very suspicious stain in the backseat that wouldn’t go away no matter how many times you scrubbed it. But for some reason, you treated it like it was your own baby. The amount of times you’d yelled at Jaemin for trying to put his feet on the dashboard was too high to count.

You mirrored his movement, eyes rolling as you sighed. “At least let me drive you home after school today. Maybe you can stay and we can finally watch Blade Runner.”

You’d been trying to get him to watch the film for almost a month now, begging and pleading because you insisted that he’d love it. He offered an awkward stare, before opening his backpack and pulling out a notebook. “Can’t,” He mumbled, “I’m headed into Manhattan. I have my internship afterwards.”

“Oh, yeah,” You said nonchalantly, eyebrows shooting up as you remembered, “Park Industries.” 

He was about to reply when Mrs. Baker, the chemistry teacher, finally entered. She’d been working at SMHS for 30 years and had never, apparently, been nice, if his Aunt Sunny’s stories were anything to go by. However, she had apparently always spoken as if she smoked two packs a day. She was rambling about the importance of making the most of senior year academically, adult responsibilities, college, and whatnot. You and Jeno exchanged glances often throughout the monologue, hoping it would end soon. 

“Enough of that,” She said after what seemed like an eternity, “Everyone quiet down, I’m going to call roll.”

Names were quickly called, and Jeno was ready to pull out a pencil and start working with you until Mrs Baker demanded a switch in seats, beginning to call on random names in an effort to deter everyone from speaking. 

"Please not with Choi, please not with Choi," Jeno muttered under his breath, glancing warily at San, who was staring ahead, looking bored. 

San had had it out for Jeno ever since day one, in first grade. For some reason, everything Jeno did seemed to annoy the other boy. He wasn't funny enough, or too nerdy, or too quiet. Jeno was always too much or too little for him. 

You touched his forearm, and he looked towards you. 

“You’ll be fine,” You said softly, trying not to alert the teacher, “You’re not gonna get paired up with him, and you can take it to the office if you need to.” “Yeah, because I’m sure Coach Peralta would be thrilled if someone tried to get his precious midfielder in trouble.”

“Choi, San,” Mrs Baker’s voice rang throughout the room, and Jeno braced himself for the worst, eyebrows furrowing with worry. 

“You’ll be sitting with… L/N, Y/N.” 

Jeno’s shoulders slumped, but your face remained impassive. You picked up your stuff, and pouted silently at Jeno in apology, before making your way to the front. 

“Lee, Jeno,” Mrs Baker called a few minutes later, “You’ll be sitting with Jang, Yeeun.”

He breathed out a sigh of relief. Yeeun is nice, Jeno thought to himself, I could sit with Yeeun. She wasn’t part of his main friend group, but he had tutored her in math during sophomore year in exchange for her helping him with Spanish, and they’d been pretty friendly ever since. 

“Hey,” Yeeun greeted as Jeno sat down, and Jeno smiled at her. 

“Remember, these will be your assigned lab partners for the rest of the semester. No changes, no exceptions.” Mrs. Baker sat down at her desk, before beginning to talk about something Jeno didn’t really pay attention to.

You exchanged glances with Jeno, and he gave you a look of sympathy as you gestured at San with your eyes. San was talking to you about something—probably bragging about some soccer achievement—but you weren’t paying him much attention. Jeno swallowed something growing in his throat as he looked at how your hair looked today. 

It was nothing relatively new, the same hairstyle you used on most days. But still, there was a bit of a shine to it. He wondered vaguely if you had changed your shampoo, the other day you’d been complaining about how itchy your normal shampoo made your scalp—

“You still haven’t told her about how you feel?” Yeeun asked quietly, and Jeno’s head snapped back to look at her, eyes wide.

“W-what? Me. Like Y/N…” He laughed nervously, trying to keep his voice down. He scratched the back of his head, avoiding Yeeun’s accusatory stare. “You’re hilarious, Yeeun. Tell another one.”

Yeeun shook her head. “You’d better hurry before someone else snatches her up, Jen. She’s not gonna wait around for you forever.”

 “I don’t like her, Yeeun.” 

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“Hey! Jeno Lee!”

“Hey! Jaemin Na! What do you want!” Jeno answered as he sat down, mimicking Jaemin’s tone next to him.

“Well, for starters, a million dollars, and second, a date with Yiren Wang, but I doubt you can help me with either of those, so...”

Jeno glanced at the rest of the table. Along with Jaemin, Mark,  Renjun, Donghyuck, and you were watching the interaction between the pair. “Where are the munchkins?” Jeno asked, noticing Chenle and Jisung’s absence. No one could really call them munchkins anymore. That nickname dated back to middle school, before the two underclassmen had gone through growth spurts.

“Eh, they should be here soon,” Renjun said, chewing on a french fry, “How’s your day been?”

“Pretty good so far, I guess. I got AP Calc with Mr. Washington later, though. That man wants me dead.”

You rolled your eyes. “He doesn’t want you dead. I’m telling you, you and Hyuck have been spending way too much time together. You’re being more dramatic than usual and Hyuck’s being more… weird than usual.”

“And just what is so weird about being enthusiastic about senior year, Y/N?” Donghyuck asked, shaking his head, “It’s our last year in this hellhole, I’m excited that we’re finally getting out of here. And besides—”

“Please don’t bring up the fact that you’re abandoning us next year.” Chenle seemingly appeared out of nowhere, sitting next to Renjun, Jisung following quickly behind him.

“Hi, Sungie,” You said with a smile, and Jisung smiled back. “Hi, Y/N.”

“What were you saying, Hyuck?” Jaemin looked at Donghyuck, who had taken the quick interaction as an opportunity to take a bite of his sandwich. His wide eyes darted to the slim boy, cheeks stuffed with chicken. 

“Oh,” He replied after swallowing, “This is gonna be my year. I’m getting male lead for the winter musical and no one is gonna stop me.”

“Do you even know what musical you guys are doing yet?” Mark asked, “What if it’s like… Shrek?”

Jisung made a face. “There’s a Shrek musical?”

Mark nodded, and Renjun laughed.

“I don’t know about male lead, if it’s Shrek. You should try out for Donkey,” The Chinese boy joked, “With those front teeth, you’re a shoo-in.”

The entire table was silent for a moment, before snorts and chortles started pouring out from everyone except Donghyuck.

“Fuck you, Huang.” 

Renjun flashed the friendliest smile he could muster. “Not if you paid me a million dollars.”

The subject remained on extracurriculars, everyone in your group except for Chenle and Jisung now wary of college applications. Donghyuck had been in theater ever since middle school, Renjun was in the robotics club and the debate team with Jaemin, who was also in the student council. Mark was on the math team with Jeno, and you had founded the film club. 

"You're not gonna believe who asked to sign up for film," You huffed, looking kind of confused. The rest of the table looked at you expectantly, and you pursed your lips, almost as if you were trying not to laugh.

"San Choi."

Renjun scoffed. Jaemin raised his eyebrows before letting out a single, humorless laugh. Jeno made a face, poking his plastic fork at you. 

"What is San Choi doing asking to sign up for film?"

"Fuck if I know. He said he needed one more extracurricular if he wanted to get into some college in Florida and he liked going to the movies, so he wanted to try out film."

Mark rolled his eyes. "I swear there's nothing in that guy's head but hot gas. It blows my mind."

"He's a dick," Chenle grumbled, "I'm still not over how he and Wooyoung taped Jisung to the flagpole last year."

Jisung scowled. "I thought we agreed to never bring that up again."

“Do you think they’ll finally calm the fuck down this year?” Jaemin wondered, looking wistful.

You took a sip of your coke and shook your head. “Doubt it. They’re not the hateful eight for a reason.”

The mood at the table turned tense, until Jaemin frowned at his french fries, before sighing and clapping his hands together dramatically. “I would like to hear,” He mused, “About the nuance that theatre gives the cinematic masterpiece that is Shrek when converted into musical form.”

Donghyuck beamed. “Oh, it’s amazing. You see…”

If it was difficult to get Donghyuck to stop talking in general, it was impossible when it was about theater.

The conversation continued on until the bell rang, and the eight of you had to go your separate ways. Jaemin and Jeno had the same class, so they both walked together down a relatively calm hallway. Jaemin looked both ways, before finally lowering his voice. 

“So, you’re going to see Mr. Park today?”

Jeno nodded, looking down at his shoes. “He said he wanted to give me an assignment. Says there’s something big going on.”

Jaemin’s eyes lit up with curiosity. “Did he say what kind of something?” 

Jeno shook his head, pouting slightly. “I’ll let you know tomorrow.” 

Once school was out, Jeno was getting ready to get onto the subway once again, this time heading towards Midtown. It was only day one and, as Jeno had predicted, Mr. Washington probably was out to get him, because he’d swamped the class with homework.

As he left the school, he spotted you in the parking lot, leaning against your car door, texting someone. He glanced at his phone. He still had plenty of time, he figured. He walked over to you, and when you looked up, you smiled. 

“Hey!” Your voice had that signature tone of enthusiasm to it, and Jeno smiled back immediately. 

“Hello,” He sing-songed. “So, I was thinking… are you free on Friday night?”

You looked somewhere above his head, furrowing your eyebrows before you perked up again and nodded. “Yep! Why?”

“I’m free after nine. Maybe then I could come over to your house? So I can finally get you to stop harassing me about Blade Runner.”

You grinned, pumping your fists enthusiastically. “Hell yes,” You answered, “Do you want me to get like, some frozen pizzas or something?” 

“Pizza sounds good,” He said. “Who are you even waiting for?” 

You made a face that made it seem as if you’d just gotten a whiff of rotten milk. “Well—”

Your response was interrupted when the school doors slammed open, and eight figures poured out, carrying themselves with confidence Jeno both envied and despised. He frowned, trying not to react at their loud whooping and laughing. The Hateful Eight.

“Oh.” Jeno averted his gaze, meeting your eyes again.

“Yeah. If you don’t hear from me later it’s because I jumped out of my truck because I don’t wanna work with—”

“Well, hello, gorgeous!” San’s voice filled the parking lot, and Jeno took a deep breath. Your mouth stretched into a tight-lipped smile at the unwanted ‘compliment’. 

“Hey, San.” Your friendly passive aggressive tone almost made Jeno smile. “I’ve been waiting here for like, fifteen minutes. You could have just given me your number and asked me to send you pictures of my notes, you know.”

He shrugged, turning his body so that his back was turned to Jeno. “Sorry, babe. Coach wanted to talk to us about the upcoming season. When he gets going, it’s hard to get him to stop. And besides, where’s the fun in just asking for pictures when I could come here, talk to you, and take the pictures myself?”

You didn’t respond, but rather pulled out your backpack and began digging through it. When you pulled out your notebook, you handed it to San, who flashed a wink at you. You barely held back a gag. 

“Thanks, Y/N. I’ll just be a minute.” 

He walked over to the hood of your truck, and just as you were about to continue your conversation, two figures slung their arms around both of Jeno’s shoulders, causing him to flinch. 

Out of the fifteen soccer players on the team, San and his best friends—seven of them, to be precise—were the worst. The others were pretty nice. But right now, seeing two of those seven surround your best friend made you uneasy. 

Wooyoung was loud. He was also a temperamental brat. His dad owned three used car dealerships over in Brooklyn, so naturally, he thought he owned the entire world. He wasn’t someone who would get too physical in fights, like San, or Jongho, or Yeosang. But when he was angry, he could easily get you to jump into the stratosphere by yelling at you once. Over the years, he’d made several teaching assistants and substitute teachers cry, only getting let off with a slap on the wrist every time. 

 Yunho was terrifying for completely different reasons. He was friendly, but a little too friendly to the people he wanted to control. He could read people like books and could easily manipulate whoever he wanted. But he wasn’t afraid of getting physical either, especially not when he was built like a goddamn Power Rangers Megazord. 

All in all, they definitely weren't anyone you wanted near you, near your friends. Especially considering how much they had it out for your friends. 

"Hey, buddy," Yunho said, looking down at Jeno with a wide smile. "How was summer vacation?"

Jeno gnawed on the side of his cheek as he considered his answer. "Um, it was okay." He looked at you to catch your eyes darting between San, Yunho and Wooyoung, like you were analyzing the situation. "I kinda stayed in and played video games most of the t—"

"Cool, cool," Yunho answered, carding his free hand through his bleach blond hair. "What about you, Woo?"

"Oh, dude, it was so cool," He bragged, "I went to Brazil for like, a month. I went clubbing with Instagram models and shit, it was wild."

You stared at him as he patted Jeno on the back rather aggressively. "Where did you go? Have you ever even left New York?" 

You knew the answer. Only a few times when the debate team went to compete in different states. Jeno spoke up again. "Well, yeah a few t—"

"Doubt it," Yunho scoffed. He craned his head back. "San, you done yet?"

"Almost!" San answered. Yunho turned to face you, and for some reason his smile seemed genuinely kind. “What about you, Y/N?”

You never understood why it was that the soccer team hated your entire friend group, but seemed to tolerate you. It made no sense.

So you shrugged. “Not a lot, I guess. Did my summer reading. Hung out with my friends.” You flashed a reassuring smile at Jeno. “Right, Jen?”

Immediately, he relaxed a little bit. “Yeah.”

San appeared from behind Yunho, Jeno and Wooyoung. “Thanks, Y/N. I owe you one.”

You waved your hand, wanting them to get rid of them quickly. “Don’t mention it. But next time, just text me for my notes. I have to get to work, so…”

“Oh! My bad,” He answered with fake remorse, before unlocking his phone and handing it over to you. “Here. For next time.”

You stifled a deep sigh, punching in the numbers hesitantly. “Just for homework, got it?”

San took his phone back, holding a hand over his heart and raised his head. “On a gentleman's honor,” He declared, and you bit back a laugh. Jeno looked like he was going to hurl.

“San!” The team captain—Hongjoong—called from a few feet away, “Are you guys done yet or what?”

“Coming!” San yelled back.

“Alright, we’ll let you go,” Wooyoung said, patting Jeno on the back again, a bit too harsh for comfort. “Bye, Y/N! See you around.”

 The three of them stalked off, leaving you and a very frazzled Jeno. “Dicks,” You muttered once they were out of earshot. “You good?”

Jeno shook his head, waving his hand dismissively. “I’ll be fine.”

You tilted your head, frowning. “Jeno—”

“I gotta go,” He said quickly. “I’ll see you later?”

You nodded, offering a lopsided smile. “Yeah. Be careful!” 

Jeno offered a deep bow, fluttering his eyelashes. “On a gentleman’s honor,” He sighed, adding a very bad British accent to it. You burst out laughing, eyes squeezing shut.

You didn’t catch the way Jeno’s shoulders relaxed at the sound.

I want you to know now

Baby, it could go down

I don’t wanna talk about it

Baby, let’s just go now

The train ride into Midtown didn’t take too long. He spent it digging through his backpack for his Park Industries lanyard, listening to music and thinking about you.

When you talk right to me 

You gon’ have to do me

Every time you think you’re leaving 

You running back to me

You’d met Jeno when you were six. Truth be told, he didn’t really remember. For him it was like you weren’t there at one point and by the time you were, you were thicker than thieves. It was a difficult time for him. He had just lost both of his parents, and was moving in with his Aunt Sunny and his Uncle Jinki, who were barely out of college at the time. He’d had to move to a new school and basically restart his entire life. You were the first sense of stability in his life for months. 

Your mom lived next to his aunt and uncle. So naturally, you went to the same school and went on the same bus. And somewhere along the way, you two clicked. You’d introduced him to Renjun, Jaemin and Donghyuck. You were there to comfort him whenever he got pushed off the slide by San or Wooyoung. 

He was there for you when your stepdad and stepbrother moved in when you were nine and you weren’t sure how to deal with it. He was there when your mom died when you were thirteen. He’d introduced you and your friends to Mark, Chenle and Jisung. 

And you were there when his Uncle Jinki got killed when he was fifteen. And because fate had an especially cruel sense of irony, it had happened on a Tuesday. You didn’t know, but at the time, he had just gotten his powers. Your comfort and words unknowingly had a secondary effect: he made the decision to use them for good, and… well. The rest was history. 

Can we just talk? Can we just talk?

Talk about where we're goin'

Before we get lost, lend me your thoughts

Can't get what we want without knowin'

Just like when he met you, he didn’t recall an exact moment where he realized he’d fallen in love with you. He knew there was a world where he loved you, but wasn’t in love with you. And he knew that there was a world here he’d fallen in love with you—he was living in that world now. He realized he was living in that world maybe when he was sixteen, and had been stuck in it ever since. 

You were it for him. He’d had crushes before. But never something like this, where he was so aware of your presence around him. It wasn’t the way he was hyper aware of someone like San, or like Yunho or Jongho. It wasn’t out of anxiety or fear, where a shift in mood activated his fight or flight. He was aware of you in a way that only people who truly know each other do, where he could pick up on subtle changes in your behavior, but not out of fear. Rather, out of a desire to take care of you and to not have you worry about anything. 

I've never felt like this before

I apologize if I'm movin' too far

Can we just talk? Can we just talk?

Figure out where we're goin'...

As the train rolled into the station that was a fifteen minute walk from Park Tower, Jeno put away his headphones and took a deep breath.

The “Jeno Tingle” as his Aunt Sunny called it—Jeno hated the term—had taken him a few years to gain control of. And while he could never truly turn it off, he could at least tune it out enough to be more at ease. The only time he did so was at school or when he was studying, just because he wanted to feel normal, and because being aware of everything going on around him really messed with his concentration. 

Jaemin didn’t understand. “If I was able to tell whenever Seonghwa was behind me because he wanted to scare me into doing his chemistry homework, I’d never turn that shit off,” He’d said once. But truthfully, Jeno didn’t really care. Because while yes, he was still slightly scared of the “hateful eight”, he knew damn well that if things got to be too much, he could kick their asses if he wanted to. 

It was his friends he worried about. He couldn’t be around them 24/7. You, not so much. He knew you knew how to fight. Even worse, he knew that San had the hots for you so you were off limits to the rest of them, be it bullying or flirting. But for everyone else… Well. He couldn’t hover over them like some guardian angel. 

Now that the “Jeno Tingle” was on, it allowed him to sense everyone within a certain range around him. He could zero in on certain sounds with ease, and his reflexes became heightened. Halfway on his walk up Park Avenue, he jumped away from a chihuahua on its leash a second before it started barking at him.

When he entered the first floor lobby of the Park Building, he scoured the crowd of employees and visitors until he landed on one familiar face. 

He'd met Doyoung about a year after his dad started dating your mom. Things between your parents were starting to get serious, and Doyoung was four years older than you were. When they moved into your house, Doyoung as your new stepbrother became the de facto chaperone and babysitter. If you wanted to go to the mall with Jeno, he had to take you. Every time you dragged Jeno to the movies, Doyoung had to go also. 

To an extent, it wasn't that bad. Doyoung was cool, and he was smart—he was the one who got Jeno interested in computers and chemistry. He graduated high school at 16, and finished his bachelor's degree at 19. He'd also interned at Park Industries, and secured a job there almost immediately after college. 

To an extent, he was the whole reason Mr. Park knew who he was, because of one incident. It was relatively soon after he started the whole vigilante thing. Jeno, still figuring out how to maneuver on the webs that shot out of his wrists, had accidentally crashed into your backyard late at night, when only Doyoung was awake. He was standing in the back door while he was waiting for his dog to finish peeing. 

Initially, the older boy had freaked out, thinking that it was a burglar or something. When he yelled out that his dad was a cop and was asleep in the house, Jeno panicked, and pulled off his mask, holding up his hands.

“Woah, woahwoahwoah! Doyoung! It’s me, it’s me!” 

Doyoung’s eyes had widened to the size of saucers, paying no mind to the dog as it sauntered up to Jeno, before turning onto its back in a request for belly rubs.

"You're the spider guy everyone's been talking about!?"

"Spider man," Jeno had answered, voice cracking as he dusted himself off. He cringed at the sound of his voice. "...and yes."

Of course, his cover was blown, and he'd begged Doyoung not to tell anyone, especially not you. And while Doyoung had promised not to tell you, it didn't stop him from telling his boss. 

That had been almost three years ago now. The rest was history, and after that Jeno didn’t have to run around in bright red sweatpants and dollar store swimming goggles. Now, he had a nanotech suit that allowed him to activate protocols of the suit through voice commands using something top-secret Mr. Park called D.R.E.A.M technology. Direct Response Engaged As Machine—yeah, Jeno didn’t get it either. 

Doyoung offered Jeno a smile as he escorted Jeno past security, showing them his employee clearance pass. "Hey. How have you been?"

Jeno shrugged, recounting his day in minor detail as he was led into an elevator labeled authorized personnel only. 

This elevator only went up to the 35th floor, seeing as everything past that was only cleared for a certain list of people approved by Mr. Park and his security team, and everything past the 90th floor were Mr. Park's private living quarters. 

Now, as Doyoung led him to another elevator to head up to the 85th floor, which was always where Jeno got to meet with Mr. Park—which wasn't often, maybe once or twice a year—he wondered where he would be if he hadn’t surprised Doyoung that night. He would probably still be using those ugly red sweatpants as part of his disguise.

"How's Y/N?" Doyoung asked. 

"Oh, she seems okay. That guy who hates me keeps coming onto her though. He's a huge douchebag."

Doyoung frowned. "He's not harassing her, is he? Because if he is—"

"He just won't stop flirting, even though she clearly isn't interested," Jeno said bitterly, "He isn't physical or anything. Trust me, it wouldn't end well for him if he was."

Doyoung wasn't quite sure how to respond to the younger boy's dark tone. He looked down, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“So… how’s the apartment?” Jeno asked. Doyoung perked up instantly.

“Oh, now that Taeyong’s moved in and did his interior design thing, it looks great. He’s really done a great job at it.”

“When am I gonna meet this guy? He sounds cool.”

“He’s really cool,” Doyoung hummed, cheeks heating up. “Things are getting really serious.”

Jeno smiled at how flustered Doyoung, who was normally so level headed and calm, became at the mention of his boyfriend.

“You guys sound like a really good couple,” He said. Doyoung chuckled, waving his hand. “Oh, well—” 

 The elevator dinged, and Doyoung sighed. “I’ll tell you later. C’mon.”

The hallway it opened up to was lined with pictures of the company's history, starting from pictures of black and white of people in vintage clothing, to pictures in sepia tones to finally pictures of the current CEO at locations around the world: Chanyeol Park.

Jeno walked behind Doyoung as he led him down the hallway, before stopping in front of a door, and a friendly looking man in a suit. 

Junmyeon was a part of Chanyeol’s Security and Intelligence team, and often sat in on these meetings with Jeno. The chain of contact also included him. If Jeno couldn’t contact Doyoung (which rarely happened), he’d contact Junmyeon. And if he couldn’t contact either of them, or it was an emergency, only then could he contact Chanyeol. So far, that had only happened once.

"Hey, Junmyeon," Doyoung said, "Mr. Park's 4:30 is here." 

Junmyeon nodded, before smiling at Jeno and giving him a wave. "Hey, kid."

Jeno offered an awkward grin. "Hi, Mr. Kim."

Junmyeon rolled his eyes sarcastically. "Kid, you're making me feel ancient. I've told you a million times, just call me Junmyeon."

Jeno shuffled awkwardly, before nodding at the older man, watching as he pressed a button on his earpiece. "Hey, Yeol. Jeno's here."

The muffled response was barely heard, but Jeno automatically understood what Mr. Park said. Junmyeon turned to open the door, and let the pair inside. The “office”—if it could even be called that—opened up to more of a lounge, than anything. A wall of glass overlooked the Manhattan skyline, but Jeno knew that from the outside it looked only like a wall, due to camouflage technology developed by Mr. Park himself. As Doyoung and Junmyeon stayed back, closer to the door, Jeno took a few steps toward the man in question.

Chanyeol was standing a few feet in front of the glass window, working on a holographic model of a new piece of tech. His face was turned downward in a concentrated frown. He barely spared the teenager a glance as he said fondly, “Hey, kid.”

Jeno was used to this. Chanyeol wasn’t cold per se, but he wasn’t warm at all. He knew that Chanyeol cared about him, even if he didn’t really show it in a conventional way. Chanyeol was a very… eccentric man, so he had his own way of saying and doing things. 

“Hi, Mr. Park. Um… you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yep! Needed some help from the friendly neighborhood Spiderman… A little birdie told me about something going on in Queens.”

“Queens?” Jeno asked, gripping the straps of his backpack. “You mean, other than the usual stuff?”

“Other than the usual stuff,” Chanyeol repeated, nodding. With a wave of his hand, the hologram disappeared, and another one appeared in its place. This time, instead of a 3D model, a few pictures and another, smaller 3D model appeared. Chanyeol turned to face him, frown deepening. He pointed at the model—a long, shiny oval-shaped purple stone. It reminded Jeno of an amethyst, but instead of turning white at the base, it turned to an iridescent jade tone. “You know what this is, right?”

Jeno nodded, remembering seeing the rocks all over the news when he was a kid. “That’s… that’s a Chitauri stone. From the invasion a few years back.”

Chanyeol nodded, standing up straight. “These stones have the potential to power weapons with no need to recharge, or change them out. They’re an infinite, extremely strong power source, Jeno, and in the wrong hands can be very dangerous.”

Jeno took a deep breath, feeling his stomach sink slowly. Chanyeol sighed. “Cleanup of the city after the invasion was long, and difficult, and obviously the government and the company weren’t able to get everything. It caused a black market to pop up. Now, the NYPD has been investigating it for years, but they have their limits… that’s where you come in.”

“M-me, Mr. Park?”

Chanyeol gave him a crooked, reassuring smile. He pointed at one of the pictures, which was of a man who most likely didn’t know he was photographed. He was walking somewhere, face looking angry and stern.

“You don’t know who this is, right?”

Jeno shook his head, and Chanyeol turned his head to nod at Junmyeon. “You’re up, tough guy.”

Junmyeon huffed, before walking up to Jeno. He put his hand on Jeno’s shoulder as if he could tell that he was growing anxious. 

“Jeno, that’s Henry Duke. From what we understand on the intel team, he’s one of the cornerstones of the alien tech black market. He’s one of the top dogs. From what we understand, he likes to be present for all major negotiations that his group makes. A source of ours told us that there’s going to be a negotiation on Friday night not too far away from LaGuardia. We want you to go out there and just get a feel of what’s going on.”

“Just watch them, right?” Jeno looked at Junmyeon, who patted his back reassuringly. “Just watch. Don’t engage unless you absolutely have to.”

“You can do that, right?” Chanyeol said quietly, crossing his arms. “Because if not, then it’s totally—”

“Yeah, of course I can! Friday—shit, Friday. At what time are they supposed to be meeting up?”

Junmyeon furrowed his eyebrows, before answering, “Around eight or nine.”

Jeno bit his lip, thinking about the promise he’d made to you. It would just have to wait, he supposed. Chanyeol rarely asked anything this big of him.

“Alright,” Jeno agreed, “I’ll do it.”

Chanyeol grinned, clapping his hands together. 

“Perfect.” 

They discussed logistics briefly after. Doyoung would be on call with Jeno, his custom made suit allowing them to communicate, letting Doyoung see everything Jeno was seeing via a video feed coming from the ultra thin lenses placed in the white eye sockets of the mask. Doyoung would then report to Junmyeon, who would report to Chanyeol, who would probably report to the FBI. Jeno was only to engage if absolutely necessary.

After that, he set out on patrol. He usually found some discreet place to hide his backpack, and then went all over Queens looking for trouble, quite literally. Around five thirty, he stopped a robbery in Murray Hill. Then, around seven, he stopped a man from stealing a woman’s purse in Elmhurst. Nothing too much.

Around eight, he finally headed home, this time dressed normally, using the train and not web fluid. He walked home, tired, knowing that he’d immediately have to do that cursed AP calc homework. When he got home, he opened his backpack pocket to look for his keys, rummaging between his notebooks and other things. 

Shuffling through his stuff, he furrowed his eyebrows as he couldn’t find them. Thinking back, he remembered this morning, when he’d left in a rush… and had very obviously left his keys on his desk.

“Shit,” He muttered to himself. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, remembering that Aunt Sunny had said she’d be working overtime tonight. He could very easily sneak in through his window, but he was pretty sure he’d locked it the night before, and it was too early. People’s lights were still on—anyone could see him if they just looked up, and then he would be screwed. 

Huffing and zipping his backpack up, he marched up to your house, before ringing the doorbell. He shifted his weight back and forth, from his heels to the balls of his feet, until the door opened up. A familiar man with a face just like Doyoung's, but older, with graying hair and arms scarred and muscled from years of working on the police force stood in the doorway.

“Jeno?” Your dad offered him a warm smile. “Hey, kiddo, what’s up?”

“Hi, Mr. Kim,” Jeno said, smiling back. He shifted nervously. “I, um… I left my keys in my room this morning, and my aunt’s working late, so… could I… maybe wait here? Y/N’s home, right?” 

The man nodded. “Of course, of course. Come in!” 

Your dad had always been super friendly, even from the day Jeno had first met him. You'd told Jeno once that he was the only real father figure you'd ever had. Once everything settled after him and your mom got married, you started calling him dad altogether. And since you and Jeno were practically glued at the hip, he got along with your dad almost as well as you did.

“Okay.” Jeno stepped in and set down his backpack at the base of the coat rack next to the door, as he’d done a million times before. Jeno stepped into the living room, and sat down on the couch. He folded his hands in his lap and looked up at your dad.

"I think Y/N's in the shower, but she should be done soon. You can just wait here if you want… have you eaten anything yet?”

“Uh, I had a granola bar on the train, but that’s it.”

“We have some leftover pasta here, if you want—”

“Thanks, Mr. Kim, really! I’m fine.”

Your dad nodded, sitting down on his recliner. “So, have you started your college list, yet? Y/N said you wanted to stay here in New York.”

Jeno nodded, pushing some hair out of his face. “Well, yeah. It would make things a lot easier, I think. I might want to apply to NYU, but I think I’ll just go to community college, or something.”

Your dad shook his head. “You’re a pretty smart kid, Jeno. I think you could get into Columbia if you set out to. Plus, Chanyeol Park doesn’t give out internships to anybody. That’s your secret weapon.”

Jeno smiled. “Well, you’ve got a point.” 

Your dad gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder. “Come on, trying won’t hurt!” Your dad made a face, and then rubbed his knuckles. “Have you been working out? Those muscles weren’t there the last time I did that.”

Jeno laughed, trying to think of an excuse. “Oh, a little bit? The house needed some fixing up over the summer, and I wanted to help Aunt Sunny, so…”

“Jeno?” 

He turned immediately, eyes landing on you at the base of the staircase. You’d changed into an old t-shirt and pajama pants. Your hair was slightly damp. “What are you doing here?” You asked, with a curious smile.

His shoulders slumped, and he grinned sheepishly. “Terrible Tuesday strikes again. I forgot my keys.”

You grimaced. “Brutal, dude. You wanna come up?” Your eyes moved to your dad. “Or am I interrupting guy time?”

“Oh, definitely,” Jeno answered, playing along. He took a cocky tone as he rested his hands on the back of his neck. “Your dad was just telling me about how much the NYPD needs me.” 

You stifled a laugh. You dad seemed to be holding back a laugh too. "Hey, you're joking, but if you keep working out like that, and if by some impossible chance, the college thing doesn't work out… We might just be able to catch Spiderman if we finally got some brain cells on the force."

"Ugh, dad," You groaned, unaware of Jeno's gut twisting, "Not again."

"Yeah, Mr. Kim," Jeno said, scratching the back of his head, "He's not that bad."

Your dad shook his head. "Look, I don't hate the guy. In all honesty, crime rates have dropped since he started doing his thing. But he thinks he's above the law, and his methods can be a bit… unorthodox sometimes. He’s been undermining us for years and his tech is state of the art. Makes me wonder about what we should do to modernize the force."

Jeno looked downward, wondering what would happen if your dad knew the truth.

"Well, I guess we may just never find out. Jeno'd make a horrible cop. He couldn't hurt a fly if you paid him a million dollars."

But you came to the rescue as you grabbed his backpack, and soon enough he was up the stairs with you, heading into your bedroom, laughing to yourselves when you heard your dad jokingly call out, "Fifteen inch distance, you two! Door stays open!"

He sat on your desk chair while you lay on your bed, limbs splaying out. 

"So you left your keys."

Jeno groaned. "Don't remind me. I was in such a rush to leave, that I… I forgot. I'm so stupid."

You rolled your eyes, rolling over onto your stomach to look at him. "You're not stupid, Jen. You made an honest mistake because you were in a hurry." 

Standing up, you walked over to him and leaned against the desk. "Seriously, Jeno. What's gotten into you, lately? You freak out about every little thing. It's starting to worry me." 

Jeno shook his head. "I don't know," He admitted. "I think I'm just scared about how after this year, everything changes. Renjun’s headed upstate. Jaemin’s going to Boston. You want to go to LA. I think Hyuck and I are the only ones who want to stay here. I just… I don't want things to change." 

Your expression turned sad as he continued. "Everyone is expecting great things from me. You're smart, Jeno. You can get into an Ivy. Or, you have a Park internship, you'll be fine. What if I don't want things to be fine? What if I want them to just stay the same?"

You stayed silent for a few moments, trying to think of what to say. Jeno was relatively level headed for someone your age, but even he had moments of doubt and panic. It made moments like these difficult.  You sighed before grabbing him by the hand. Wordlessly, you tugged him over to the bed, sitting him down and leaning your head on his shoulder. He could feel the dampness in your hair seeping slowly into his shirt.

"I guess I understand what you mean," You mumbled, trying to reason with him, "But come on. You wouldn't really want everything to stay the same. You can't tell me you want to keep getting AP calc homework. And I definitely doubt that you'd want to have your ass kicked by San for the rest of your life."

Jeno looked at the floor. "You're right. But you know that's not what I mean—"

"I know," You huffed, "I'm just saying. Change… it's inevitable. The longer you fight it, the harder it is."

Jeno nodded. "This sucks."

"It does," You agreed, taking his hand in yours. "But at least we have each other's backs, y'know?"

Something of a smile appeared on his face. You were so close to him, leaning on him, stroking his knuckles with your thumb. He hoped you couldn't hear his heart pounding in his chest. 

"We really do, huh?" His voice turned quiet, with a bit of a sleepy lull to it. He allowed his head to rest on yours. "You're so comfortable. Can I like, use you as a pillow for the rest of my life?"

You giggled. "I'll consider it on two conditions."

"Oh, you'll consider. How generous of you."

"Yes, I'll consider. Now, do you wanna hear my terms or not?" 

Jeno raised an eyebrow. "Go ahead," He said, before putting on his best Marlon Brando voice, "Make me an offer I can't refuse."

Snorting, you lifted your head off of his. "Okay. One, you finish your calculus homework here before Sunny gets home."

He pursed his lips. "Okay, I could probably do that. What's the other one?"

"Let me drive you to school for the rest of the year." 

Jeno stared at you, and you nodded, eyes wide. "Trust me, Jen. You wouldn't need to wake up so early! And plus, you can't text the guy manning the subway asking him to give you five minutes because you need to find your keys."

Jeno gnawed on the inside of his cheek. You did have a point, and to be honest, he could probably refrain from putting his feet up on your dashboard.

"Deal." 

You grinned. "Awesome," You answered, before nodding towards his backpack. "Now get to work, Einstein."

The rest of the week wasn't that bad. Yes, you were absolutely batshit insane about your truck in the morning, but he soon realized he didn't really mind. Not when it allowed you both to spend some twenty extra minutes together in the mornings, and they were spent joking around and listening to your extremely varied playlist. 

On the other hand, he was saddled with more and more homework, greater and greater expectations. The looming threat of Friday's mission rolled around, and it made Jeno feel like time was passing much too slowly but also way too quickly. There was so much on his mind. He had chemistry with you on Thursdays in the afternoon, which also meant that San was there. Which also meant that sometimes, his heightened senses would pick up on San dropping a tacky pick up line which made Jeno want to punch him in the jaw.

Finally, finally, Friday afternoon rolled around. As he bid you goodbye and promised to see you later, he tried to ignore the feeling in his stomach. The feeling that something was about to go very, very wrong. He went out on patrol, ready for Doyoung to set up the call and tell him where he needed to go. It didn’t help that there wasn’t a lot for him to do that day. Crime had seemed to slow down altogether. 

When the time finally came, and the sun was beginning to set, Doyoung rang in at about 7, telling him the location. An old warehouse near LaGuardia airport, hidden from prying eyes. Jeno made his way to the place, avoiding security cameras Doyoung warned him about, and found a place to hide. There was a hole in the warehouse roof, which allowed him to peer right into the building without being seen. It was about thirty feet from the ground.

“Why is it always old, abandoned warehouses?” Jeno grumbled. He heard Doyoung laugh quietly. 

“Beats me,” Doyoung sighed. 

And so they waited. Jeno wondered vaguely if you were still working. He wasn’t sure. They made time talking quietly, until a black SUV rolled into the warehouse. “Woah, Doyoung,” He murmured, “Hold up.”

Jeno leaned forward, but quickly realized he probably wouldn’t be able to hear what was being said. “D.R.E.A.M, activate Heightened Intelligence Protocol.”

Activating Heightened Intelligence Protocol.

The protocol allowed Jeno to use the lenses over his eyes to zoom in on specific targets, as well as use a microphone embedded in the suit to pick up audio from far away and feed it directly into his ears.

He watched as three figures got out of the car, a fourth remaining in the driver’s seat. The trio stood in front of the car, and Jeno recognized the man in the middle as the man Junmyeon had been talking about.

“Alright, there’s Henry Duke,” He said, “The one in the middle.”

 “Got it,” Doyoung replied, sounding satisfied. “Now all we have to do is wait for the other party.”

“Did Junmyeon’s sources say anything about who it would be?”

“No. They weren’t able to find that out. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Jeno’s eyes never left the man. “Do you think it’s something international?”

Doyoung sighed. “I’m not sure. If it is international, then you need to be even more careful.”

“Got it. I think—Wait, here they come.” 

A second vehicle, this one another black SUV, rolled up not too far away from the first car. The lights turned off and the engine sputtered to a stop, and four men stepped out of the vehicle.

Jeno’s stomach dropped, and of its own accord, his mouth let loose a quiet, “What the fuck,” as he registered the person leading them. 

“What?” Doyoung asked, before realizing what—who—he was looking at. “...Is that my dad?”

“I think it is,” Jeno whispered, fingertips suddenly numb. Who was he kidding? They both knew who it was. 

“So,” One of the men next to your dad said, “You show us yours, we’ll show you ours?”

Henry Duke clapped his hands together with an impish grin. “I suppose. Reagan, get the case.”

One of the two men standing beside him started off toward the trunk of the car. “It caught me off guard when I heard that the force wanted to purchase these. Almost made me wonder if this was your attempt at a sting operation.”

“What made you change your mind?” Your dad asked. Jeno swallowed at how cold he sounded. This wasn’t your dad, and it didn’t seem like Officer Kim either. This was someone Jeno had never met before. 

“Honestly, Kim?” Duke raised an eyebrow, shrugging. “It was you. Your cooperativeness and willing to feed us information, as well as your… insurance agreement. And besides, you made a very interesting point when you said that the Avengers Initiative and Park’s alum Spiderman is ruining the way the law operates around here. That type of bitterness… hard to fake.”

Your dad huffed. “We’re fucking tired of it.”

The man leaning against the car your dad had stepped out of scoffed. “If this helps us catch the little asshole, then so be it.”

Jeno frowned. “I’m not little—”

“Jeno, shut up!” Doyoung snapped. 

“—Alright, then.” The man holding the briefcase—Reagan—clicked it open, as if it were a prize reveal on The Price is Right. Five guns, all modified to hold glowing Chitauri stones were placed carefully together side by side.

“You know the basics. No radiation. Keep it away from security scanners and x-rays. They will blow up. And second of all, these are at half the price, along with the promise from the chief of police that my business won’t be touched, and will only be distributed to officers in on the operation and have agreed to turn off their body cameras when they decide to use these weapons. Should this not be a sting operation, we’ll be back here to negotiate.”

Jeno leaned forward, watching anxiously.

“Yes, sir,” Your dad answered, nodding. “We have the money here.”

“Hand it over, then.”

That was when Jeno made his mistake. He leaned forward too much, and proceeded to fall right through the hole, bringing down some scraps of the roof with him. As he tumbled through the air, the zoom on his lenses caused him to grow dizzy as he had no idea what he was looking at. He caught himself before he could fall, clumsily commanding D.R.E.A.M to go back to turn off the current protocol. His vision returned to normal, and he swung up onto a rafter holding the warehouse up.

“So, we have company.” Duke didn’t sound as amused as he had before. His face turned into a sneer. “Get him.”

In less than a second, before Jeno could say anything, five guns were pointed directly at him. He managed to swing away before any bullets could hit him. 

“Jeno, get out of there now,” Doyoung ordered. 

“What about the guns?” Jeno asked, swinging to another rafter. “They know I’m here, I might as well get them before I go—”

“No! Jeno, listen to what I’m telling you. You’ve done more than enough, and you need to let it g—”

Your dad aimed, and a bullet fired right at Jeno’s chest. For a second, he forgot that the chest area of the suit was lined with bulletproof material. While it didn’t shoot into his chest, it ricocheted right off him, and since he was in motion, it somehow caused the bullet to bounce back in the direction in which it came. 

The wind was knocked out of Jeno, but it was nothing compared to watching the bullet land in the middle of your father’s chest. On the other line, he heard Doyoung yell, followed by the sound of something falling. And then, as he made his way back towards the hole he’d fallen out of, he couldn’t rip his eyes away from the body as it crumpled to the ground. 

The others around him scrambled to get back into their respective cars. Jeno was back on the roof now, trying not to hyperventilate. “I’m sorry,” He gasped, “Do—Doyoung, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t want to—”

“Jeno, you need to get out of there, now,” Doyoung said, voice raspy. “GO!” 

So he did, and Doyoung cut off the call once he was out of the vicinity. Jeno didn’t blame him. He swung across buildings, feeling numb as he looked for the apartment complex roof where he’d decided to hide his backpack.

When he finally did, he changed in a hurry, before slumping against the wall and forcing himself to take deep breaths. 

Doyoung’s dad—your dad—was dead. And it was all his fault. 

He cried on the way down the staircase. He cried on his way to the subway. The entire time, he ignored people’s stares. Suddenly everything was too loud, and if he met someone in the eyes he’d just about break down in the middle of the station. 

As he got onto the train, Jeno thought about all of the things your dad had done for you, and for Jeno. All the times he'd taken you both to Coney Island in the summer when you were younger. The year Pokemon Go came out he took the both of you driving around in his car so you and Jeno could catch as many Pokemon as you could. 

He’d formally adopted you when you were thirteen. You were his daughter in nearly every sense of the word, regardless of blood. And now he was dead, because of a stupid mistake that Jeno had made.

What would you say if you knew? He didn’t want to know. Checking the time on his phone, he saw he’d gotten a message from you just three minutes ago.

[8:36 PM]

y/n: lemme know when ur outside!! :)

“Fuck,” He murmured, wiping his eyes. He knew he needed to stop crying before he got to your house, and he had about ten minutes before he got to his stop, and then another five minute walk to the neighborhood. He focused on taking deep breaths and taking long swigs from his water bottle in the meantime, trying to tune out the sound of other people talking and the sound of the train on the rails.

The walk was the longest five minute walk he’d ever taken. The flashing lights of convenience stores did nothing to calm him down. As the stores in his peripheral vision began transitioning into suburban homes, he felt his heart speed up again. The constant movement as he walked meant he missed his phone vibrating in his backpack as you rang his number.

After what seemed like an eternity, two familiar houses came into his line of vision, and his shoulders slumped as he spotted you on your porch, looking small and teary, curled up into a little ball. In one hand, you were clutching your phone.

His stomach twisted as he put on a confused tone, even though he knew damn well that you knew. “...Y/N?”

You stood up, running to him and burying yourself into his chest, crumpling into his arms. You would have fell over if Jeno hadn’t held both of you up. 

“Jeno,” You sobbed, “You’re n-not go-onna believe it.”

He brought a hand up to caress your hair, holding back tears of his own as he asked a question he already knew the answer to.

“Y/N, what happened?”

taglist: @decembermoonskz @itsapapisongo @lenaluvs​ @crescentjen​

#kwritersworldnet #nct angst #nct x reader #jeno x reader #jeno angst #jeno fluff #nct au #jeno au #kpop scenarios #kpop angst #kpop imagines #nct dream x reader #lee jeno x reader #my writing

[raewritesfiction]

Personal Attachment [Zag Bagans]

A/N: just something that's been playing in my head for a while. Tagging everyone in my tag lists because I have no idea who would be interested in this one… just putting out some feelers (so to speak ;-) ) 

Plot: Reader is Zak Bagans (GAC) personal assistant in more ways than one.  Not only do they do everything usually asked of any other p.a. but they also deal with the aftermath of when attachments and apparitions don't play nicely together and Zak needs a release.

Genre: Smut Pairing: Reader X Zak Bagans Warnings: General smuttyness (as usual) and possible language. Paranormal mentions etc.

--- --- ---

I had started out just as Zak's P.A. doing normal P.A. bullshit but with the added extra fun of going to haunted places and helping the investigations; setting up cameras, interviews, checking history of where we were going so I had all the facts ahead of time in case anything matched up.  As time went on and everything became normal for me I'd hang out with all of the GAC, but I spent most of my time with Zac listening to him talk out whatever was in his head.  We found out pretty quickly that his attachments would tolerate my presence for long periods of time before wanting me to be gone and eventually Zak settled and we'd hang out most days, even when we weren't filming because his attachments had “gotten used” to my proximity to them and “their vessel”.

It wasn't until a couple of years later that things switched up a gear and I ended up falling into bed with Zak after a particularly rough investigation; something or someone, we still aren't sure which, had channelled through him and left a trace of itself behind.  Zak had gone through cleansing, prayer, meditation and more but something still wasn't right and he was tense for days before we started what would become a routine for us. 

Most investigations are pretty easy going, nothing dangerous.  Mostly it's a 'recording’ of a spirit, something just happens, resets and happens again...there's no intelligence or interaction. There's actually way more of these than people think it's just that they don't make for good TV… they're interesting from our perspective but viewers want to be scared, they want drama and possession.

It started as a once in a blue moon thing; Zak would let down his guard and channel whatever was around regardless of if not was positive or negative.  The positive stuff went pretty easy and passed without much to do about anything. The negative channelling took so much out of him mentally and physically, put him in great danger as well as the rest of us. 

But the ratings… oh boy! 

Pretty soon it was a weekly thing and it started off okay; he could deal with it and just needed a little more mental training to help recover afterwards. I started training in Reiki and crystals to aid his recovery.  After what was only a short time the positive channelling became few and very far between. Instead the negative spirits would push their way through (his words), “like a high school bully barging to the front of the dinner line.”

But it made good TV.

That first time we ended up fucking, it wasn't sex… there's a difference, was quite an eye opener for me.  Though I'll never complain because hot damn a woman needs to get laid and this was quite literally the best, most mind-blowing fuck fest I had ever had. 

Soon, after any investigation that had included a negative channelling of any sort we added to Zak's routine… we'd hold ourselves up in a motel room in the middle of nowhere where we wouldn't be interrupted and we'd fuck until we passed out from exhaustion.  It wasn't always the same… but it was always the same.  It was a needed release of more than just his (and my) physical energy; neither of us ever sleep better than after these sessions.  Sure, we fuck other times too but post-investigation was completely different.

This time was no different to the others in that respect.  The investigation had ended early because of how badly Zak and Aaron had both been affected, the evidence was being compiled and produced into an episode and everyone had parted off to decompress and try to relax however they needed too.

I had gone back to Zak's place with him where we had locked up all the doors and turned phones onto do not disturb.  Zak had already been through his religious and spiritual cleansing with three different persons, his prayers and meditation seemed to have helped a little but not as much as they usually do. 

Zak was pacing in his bedroom; he'd already showered and was wearing just his sweatpants as he clenched his fists, talking to himself quietly. I stayed silent and simply watched, I had learned over the months and then couple of years that it was best not to disturb him until he was silent and still.  That moment came after half an hour and I stepped up to him splaying my hands on his bare back. 

“Not tonight…” he whispers.

This isn't new; this is a conversation - a discussion - we have almost every time. It was part of the routine.

“You need too.” I keep my voice quiet and calming, kissing across his shoulders.

“I don't want to hurt you.”

It's like a script and we're our own recorded apparitions; no interaction with the surrounding world because we aren't aware of it.

“You won't. You never have.” I reassure him again. “Say what you need… to control or be controlled?”

“To control.” 

“Now tell me what you want. Make it real.” I have to stand on my tiptoes to kiss up the back of his neck.

“You. Just you.”

From the moment his speaks those words it takes him very little time to turn and face me, strip my clothes, push me onto the bed and spin me onto my front.  There's lots of touching and kissing; from light flicks of his tongue and hot breath against my neck to biting my shoulder, spanking my ass and gripping my hips with enough force to bruise as he teases me.

As desperate as he was to be inside me, fucking out my brains and making me scream his name like it was my own personal exorcism, he always made sure I was ready for him.  

“This is gonna get rough.” He whispers close to my ear, his fingers are curled inside me thrusting slowly.

“I know...I know that,” I moan and turn my head to face him “fuck me… fuck me until you cum…” it sounds so simple because for most guys they're trying not too while the woman is trying to get there and they meet in the middle.  Most other nights that's exactly what happened for us too but post-investigation there was always something else there seemingly blocking him from his much needed release.  I knew this and I knew we'd fuck like I was his personal toy until he could finally let it all go and I'd pass out in his arms for a few hours.  I always made sure he knew that I didn't feel used and abused; our relationship was very different to most but it worked for us both.

Zak nips over my shoulder and lifts my hips up off the bed; two fingers inside me while his other hand splays on my lower stomach and pulls me up to how he wants me.  He's wasted no time and has already rolled a condom down over himself while shuffling me on the bed. 

“I want you to cum first.” He whispers.

I nod and rock my hips on his fingers; he has his palm facing down and his fingers are curled just right inside me.  We both know that this won't be my only orgasm; it will be one of only a couple or three that isn't forced.  Luckily I enjoy orgasm torture. His fingers move quickly and with skill, his thumb brushes over my clit repeatedly until I'm panting his name in a mantra and gripping the sheets as I cum.

I moan softly and run a hand through my hair as Zak withdraws his fingers from inside me then gasp as they're quickly replaced by his cock stretching me and filling me with ease.  There's no waiting, no settling, no just enjoying this moment. He doesn't ease into a rhythm; not on these nights. He hips rock to push just a little deeper then set a instant hard pace; they jerk deep and barely withdraw before snapping into me again. 

His hands gripped, scratched and spanked me before one rested gripping a fistfull of my hair and he leant up a little to withdraw further with each thrust. I groan and call out his name into the bedding which is still balled up in my hands, my hips rock and lift as best they can so his cock hits my target every time.  

He's told me before that he cares about my own pleasure but in the moment it's as if he's fighting against the same something that stops his own release; so we have an agreement that I take charge, as much as is possible, of my own pleasure in these situations.  

I listen to Zak grunt and moan; they're rough and broken, he tries to hold back at first but it doesn't last and that's just how I like it.  He growls and spanks me hard enough to leave an instant hand print, he releases my hair and spanks the opposite side with just as much force and I tighten around his cock as I cum.  The sound, the sting, the heat; the bruises I know I'll have later that will remind me when I sit down, just how good this feels right now. It all adds up for me and keeps driving me over the edge. Zak knows this.

I pant and twist slightly as he moves to kneel between my legs so he can better access me, so he can tease and torture me with his fingers, with his hands.  Zak pins my arms to the bed and picks up the speed. The sound of skin on skin resonates through the bedroom and mixes with our voices; our moans and growls - animalistic pleasure and equally possession.

I tremble and whine as I cum again; my body tightening around and under him as it starts to try and fight the orgasms being forced upon it.  I writhe the small amount I'm able and push back against Zak; he takes the hint and wraps his arms around my lower stomach to hold me onto him as his hips grind into me. They circle and rock; again barely withdrawing from me as he thrusts, he grunts and moans in my ear then snakes a hand up around my throat.  At this point my body is fighting the pleasure; I'm over stimulated and sensitive, the line between pleasure and pain has blurred and with every wave of my orgasms there is a low ache that accompanies it which turns me on further and so the cycle continues.

I feel Zak tremble against me and then hear him choke back a loud groan of my name; his hips no longer have rhythm and thrust wildly; erratically, desperately. 

I turn my head and kiss him passionately; hungrily, needily. He pants and whines against my mouth as I do the same with him.  His hand stays around my throat and the other moves down between my legs to tease my swollen throbbing clit.  I whimper at his touch and reach back a hand into his hair, the other gripping his wrist.

“Cum for me Zak…” I whisper and nip his lip “Cum for me.” 

He grips my throat tighter and lets out a strained groan; his face contorting to a mix of the pleasure of his release and pain of the over stimulation needed for him to get there.  His hips grind deep, his thumb and fingers roll my clit between them and I call out a final time that night as my body gives over to exhaustion. 

We both collapse down onto the bed still tangled in each other and the bed sheets. There are whispers and kisses, light touches and our hips rock just a little until we disengage from each other to find the comfort to fall asleep.  

I don't bother looking at the clock; the sun is already rising and we have no other plans for the day.  

Like I said; this is our routine. 

--- fin --- 

#Zak Bagans #Zak Bagans GAC #Ghost Adventures Crew #Personal Attachment #Imagine #Zak Bagans X Reader #Zak Bagans Imagine

[carnegiemuseumnaturalhistory]

How I Became an Archaeologist

If you had told me when I was 15 that I would spend my life as an archaeologist, I probably would have been pretty surprised. I didn’t grow up knowing a great deal about archaeology or even being fascinated by arrowheads. At that time, I might well have asked what an archaeologist really is and what one actually does. I did get to visit the Parthenon and other ruins while on a trip with my aunt when I was sixteen. Even then, I don’t remember having more than a casual interest in what could be learned from these places. I was more interested in the living people and the new food dishes I encountered on that trip, which was my first trip outside the United States.

From talking to other archaeologists, I’ve learned that there are a lot of paths to deciding archaeology is going to be your life’s work. In my case, what led me to archaeology was anthropology, and specifically an elective course I took in the Fall of my senior year in high school that was taught by a Ph.D. student at the University of Massachusetts. Until then I had not been a serious student, although I did well enough in school. Perhaps I was slightly bored by most of my courses, but anthropology was anything but boring! It looked at people elsewhere in the world and over great periods of time. Many of these people lived different lives than my friends and I did, and they sometimes thought very differently about what was important in life than people here in the United States. I was fascinated, and, honestly, I particularly liked the fact that the conventions of American society, which to my teenage self were sometimes a little confining, weren’t after all the only sensible way to approach life. That year, as I chose a college to attend, I specifically looked for anthropology programs. I chose Beloit College in Wisconsin, which to this day has an excellent anthropology program.

Initially, I thought that I was most interested in cultural anthropology, but like most anthropology departments in the United States, Beloit required its anthropology majors to take courses in biological anthropology, linguistic anthropology, and archaeology as well as cultural anthropology. These are what are known as the four fields of American anthropology and together, they give us a more complete picture of humans in both the past and the present. Most people focus their careers in one subfield or another, though we recognize the importance of each one for understanding humans, and in most cases in North America our degrees are in anthropology not one of the subfields. In college, I found all these courses more fascinating than anything I had studied before, and I actually became a good student as I explored anthropology. I was learning so much neat stuff! I also did volunteer work in the Logan Museum at Beloit, which was founded at the end of the nineteenth century and holds some pretty amazing ethnographic and archaeological collections. It was there I first became interested in artifacts and learned to clean and care for them. After a college internship in cultural anthropology convinced me that cultural anthropology was not the most interesting part of anthropology after all, I began to focus on archaeology. I was most intrigued by my courses in Mesoamerican archaeology and North American archaeology, which before college had been completely unknown to me.

When I graduated from college, I still wasn’t sure what I would do with my life. I worked for about two years both in social work and as a tax auditor for the IRS, but decided in 1974 to try graduate school in archaeology because I still found what archaeology had taught me about past people compelling. I lived in Chicago, so I enrolled in the Ph.D. program in North American archaeology at Northwestern University in Evanston, Illinois.

My graduate self in the late 1970s. Photo credit: Phillip Neusius

The biggest shock of graduate school was my professors’ almost immediate insistence that I pick what research I wanted to do. They pushed me to develop an expertise or skill within North American archaeology through my research. It sounds obvious to me now, but I think many beginning graduate students are like I was, lovers of the discipline’s knowledge, but a bit daunted by becoming an independent researcher. Developing an area of focus and specialty skills is part of becoming a professional archaeologist. One reason for this is because contemporary archaeological undertakings rely on teams of researchers, each contributing special skills and knowledge to accomplish the many aspects of excavation, analysis, and interpretation. If you envision archaeology as the solitary pursuit of an elusive artifact or site, you don’t have the picture quite right. Think instead of archaeological fieldwork involving groups of scientists working together to discover and carefully record many different bits of evidence about what the world used to be like and what people did in it. Also think about the many hours these scientists and others will spend not only in the field, but in the laboratory after an excavation is completed cleaning finds, describing artifacts, and analyzing data in order to make meaningful interpretations.

For someone like myself, who loved all aspects of anthropology, not to mention archaeology, and who had only gradually settled on North America as my geographic focus, picking a focus on entering graduate school was a hard task. There was so much that would be interesting to study! However, I did remember especially enjoying a research paper I had done in college on the relatively new interdisciplinary field of zooarchaeology, so under pressure, I told my professors I wanted to pursue this subfield in graduate school. Amazingly, this turned out to be a good choice of specialization for me. I found that I really love to work with collections of animal bone. For me, opening a bag of bone refuse from a site still is exciting. Bone identification work is a little like doing a jigsaw puzzle without all the pieces. It is challenging, and it takes concentration and careful observation to piece together what you can. There is so much to figure out about any single piece of bone! What animal is it? How healthy was the animal? What part of the animal’s body is it? Has it been burned or cut? How was the bone buried and changed after the humans were done with it? Then you have to record this information so it can be combined with other observations on the assemblage of bone you are looking at. After identification, making sense of what a collection of the bones means and correlating these kinds of data with other information from a site and region requires careful analysis, but also insight and creativity. To me it is endlessly fascinating.

Besides finding that I liked the work, choosing zooarchaeology was also serendipitous since my professors were looking for a student to work with them on this aspect of a big project they were undertaking in west-central Illinois centered on the Koster site, which was first inhabited more than 9000 years ago and then reinhabited by people right up into modern times. Most importantly the poorly known Archaic Period levels were numerous, well-preserved, and distinct from each other so we could add a lot of new information through our work. For my dissertation I was able to look at the animal remains from levels of this site dated between approximately 8500 and 6000 years ago, which represent how people used animals at that time.

Koster site strata. All those dark layers are from Archaic period camps at the site. Photo credit: Del Bastian, Center for American Archaeology.

Graduate school was intense, but I continued to be fascinated by archaeology’s ability to tell the story of people lost to standard Western history. In those days I was excited to be part of this science that could do so much more than describe and take care of cool artifacts. It was a heady thing to learn that I could contribute to what was known about people who lived thousands of years ago. In later years, I’ve had to think more critically than I did then about what a privilege it is for an archaeologist to learn about the history and lives of other ethnicities. Today’s archaeologists recognize their responsibility to present information about past people for both scholarly and public use in ways that are sensitive to what is considered sacred and private by the descendants of those people. I think this is an important change in perspective, but in the 1970s most archaeologists just wanted to show that people’s stories from the past could be told using the techniques of archaeology. I certainly was happy, if a little naively so, to have found a way to contribute to telling the human story.

If I consider entering graduate school as the start of my professional career as an archaeologist, I have been pursuing this career for more than 45 years! Over the years I have done zooarchaeological and archaeological work in the American Midwest, Southwest, Southeast, and Northeast working on telling the story of people who lived as long as 9000 years ago and as recently as the Sixteenth century. I’ve worked at several universities, in a small museum, and on small and large archaeological projects in the field of Cultural Resource Management (CRM) doing archaeological survey, site excavation, and zooarchaeological identification and analysis. I’ve written scholarly papers and articles as well as a textbook on North American archaeology. However, beginning in the late 1980s, I spent more than 31 years doing research and teaching anthropology and archaeology here in Pennsylvania at Indiana University of Pennsylvania. In this job I taught both undergraduates and graduate students, but, as is typical of university professors, I also spent time doing fieldwork and analysis as part of my research while at IUP. Fortunately, because archaeology is a team undertaking, I’ve been able to involve many students in my research. Working with students in research as they discover what fascinates them has been a highlight of being an archaeologist for me. I’ve now retired from teaching but not archaeology. I’m still working with both physical and digital archaeological collections both through CMNH and elsewhere and writing about archaeology. Who knows what this career still will bring me!

Drawing a profile at the Johnston site with one of my students in 2008. Photo credit: Erica Ausel, IUP Archaeology.

Tracking down a bone identification with one of my students in the Zooarchaeology Lab at IUP. Photo credit: Beverly Chiarulli.

If you are reading this blog because you are thinking about archaeology as either a career or a hobby, I hope you realize that mine is just one story among the many that could be told. Because there are so many aspects of archaeology, people come into it from all sorts of backgrounds and because of all sorts of interests. I think that it is important to remember though that it really is about understanding people and telling their stories through the artifacts and other evidence we find. This is what interested me in archaeology in the first place. Discovering the details of the human story is a giant undertaking. There is no shortage of research problems or work to do, but solving the puzzles presented by sites and collections is both challenging and fun. I’m certainly glad I decided to become an archaeologist and zooarchaeologist so many years ago!

Sarah W. Neusius is a Research Associate in the Section of Anthropology at Carnegie Museum of Natural History and Professor Emeritus, Department of Anthropology, Indiana University of Pennsylvania. Museum employees are encouraged to blog about their unique experiences and knowledge gained from working at the museum.

Definitions of Bolded Terms

anthropology -the study of humans including the physical, cultural and social aspects in the past and present.

cultural anthropology - the study of the cultural aspects of humans especially recent and contemporary social, technological, and ideological behavior observed among living people.

biological anthropology – the study of the biological or physical aspects of humans, including human biological evolution and past and present biological diversity.

linguistic anthropology - the study of the structure , history, and diversity of human languages as well as of the relationship between language and other aspects of culture.

archaeology - the study of past human behavior and culture through the analysis of material remains.

ethnographic – relating to the scientific description of people and cultures especially customs and beliefs.

Mesoamerican archaeology - the archaeology of the area from central Mexico southward through Belize, Guatemala, El Salvador, Honduras, Nicaragua, and northern Costa Rica.

North American archaeology - the archaeology of the area from central Mexico northward throughout the United States and Canada.

zooarchaeology – a subarea of archaeology involves the identification of animal remains from archaeological sites and investigates the ecology and cultural uses of the animals represented.

assemblage - a collection of artifacts from the same archaeological context.

Archaic Period - a time period from approximately 10,000 BP to 3000 BP that is recognized in most of North America.

Cultural Resource Management (CRM) – an applied form of archaeology undertaken in response to laws that require archaeological investigations.

archaeological survey – the systematic process archaeologists use to locate, identify, and record archaeological site distribution on the landscape.

#Carnegie Museum of Natural History #Archaeology #Zooarchaeology #Archaeologist

[isaacthedruid]

Please allow me to tell you about one of my favourite cartoons through this informal essay I did for school a couple of months back. 

Gravity Falls and How it Did The Unimaginable

**SPOILERS... KINDA**

The 2010s saw the creation of some of the most iconic animated tv shows ever made, the likes of Adventure Time (2010), Steven Universe (2013), Over the Garden Wall (2014) and The Legend of Korra (2012). To explain why this era’s shows are so admirable is honestly rather difficult. Yet, there are many factors that can be taken into consideration when looking for an answer.

The past decade was very successful in perfecting their craft and utilizing the animated format to their favour, creating some of the wackiest and fascinating cartoons ever made. With the advancements made in both 2D and 3D animation for film, this bled into the world of TV as well.

To mention that 2010s cartoons have stunning visuals would be an understatement. Everything about the animation was beautiful; the strong colour palettes, the clean and imaginative character designs, the colourful and immersive backgrounds and especially the mesmerizing worlds that can be found within episodes that are half an hour.

This era’s cartoons also led to a massive shift in storytelling, writing longer-running stories that spread out across seasons while also swapping out episodic adventures for serialization. This heavily aided in the popularization of these shows, due to the rise of internet fandoms and dropping the taboo that cartoons were only for kids. Many shows acknowledged their older viewers by leaving clues and even puzzles to be solved by the theorists who have a large appearance on social media platforms like Reddit, Twitter and Tumblr. As the shows progressed, their fandoms created many theories for what they believed might happen within their favourite series. The top three shows from this era all utilized these changes, being at the forefront of the shift and helping guide the creative vision of 2010s cartoons.

Often regarded as many people’s favourite cartoon, Gravity Falls presented one of the best mysteries of the decade with two seasons and only 40 episodes. Inspired by Twin Peaks and The X-Files, it’s considered as the kids’ version of these two iconic shows as this cartoon acts as many people’s first introduction to horror through bright colours and fun characters.

This series follows the adventures of Dipper and Mabel Pines, twins, who are sent to spend their summer with their great-uncle or Grunkle Stan in Gravity Falls, Oregon. This town is full of oddities like supernatural creatures, insane and eccentric inhabitants, and many puzzles. The Pines twins must adjust to the weirdness while uncovering the mysteries and protecting their new town.

While living in Gravity Falls, the twins are forced to work in the Mystery Shack, a tourist trap created by their Grunkle Stan that overcharges unlucky tourists, teaching about fake monsters despite there being real creatures all over town. On his first day in Oregon, Dipper accidentally came across a mysterious journal written by an unknown author that explains all the oddities to be found in this strange town. This book acts like an encyclopedic of the Weird for Dipper, an inquisitive 12-year-old kid who seeks answers.

Dipper is an extremely intelligent kid, his brain being far more developed than his body. He’s rather awkward and self-conscious as he often stumbles over his words or gets embarrassed trying to talk to girls. Despite this, the boy is an adventurer at heart who just wants to grow up and skip his upcoming teenage years.

While Mabel is quite the opposite in many ways, she is loud and has an in-your-face personality. Mabel is bouncy and fun, she is so excited to start high school. She is easily excitable and for the larger part of the series, she is in her boy-crazy phase. Mabel is a girly-girl as she likes all things; glitter, unicorns, rainbows, partying and crafting. Yet, she doesn’t often compare well with many of the other girls in town, they see her as weird and “too much”.

(In all fairness through, it is not too kind to either of the characters as their personalities are more complex than just awkward nerd and artsy girl-girly.)

Dipper and Mabel’s personalities are very different but somehow, they—along with their Gravity Falls family—manage to solve mysteries and save the town, multiple times.

Gravity Falls is an honestly genius series that completely changed the way cartoons were made. Originally when writing a series, you’d create a base of your story; characters, the universe and a basic plot. Yet, when creator, Alex Hirsch (who was in his early/mid-20)s and his small team first began constructing their show, they planned out everything they could possibly think of for the first season. Additionally, outlining some answers for their biggest mysteries that would be answered at the end of the series.

Despite being rated TV-Y7, this series really pushed the boundaries of kids’ television. From the teeth being ripped out of a deer’s mouth by a demon, rearranging the functions of every hole on a man’s face to an aggressive pop-rock sock puppet show that ended in a dramatic slow-motion scene of the puppets burning. Gravity Falls wasn’t afraid to get a little weird or creepy. Or create some genuine nightmare fuel. 

From the beginning, Gravity Falls had built a mystery into its series, hiding secrets and clues all throughout the show. Most notably were the backwards-recorded message and cryptograms, using roughly nine different kinds, even creating two of their own.

The inclusion of cyphers and mysteries for fans to solve is possibly the reason why this series was so successful. As one of the first shows to do something like this, Gravity Falls used social media and internet fandoms to its advantage.

As mentioned earlier, cartoon fans have quite a presence on social media platforms like Twitter and Tumblr. They create theories and share fun ideas about their favourite shows. Viewers of Adventure Time, Gravity Falls and Steven Universe were all included in their share of theory fun.

Sometimes, fan theories end up being correct but when you’re Gravity Falls creator, Alex Hirsch, you don’t just watch from the sidelines as your viewers figure out the biggest mystery of your show. No, you create a hoax to get your viewers off your trail and that is what he did. Around 2013, only halfway through the first season of the show, viewers had started to follow the clues, theorizing who was the author is Dipper’s mysterious journal.

Unfortunately for the Gravity Falls production crew, the viewers were right— for the sake of readers who have never seen the show, I will not mention who the author was as it would be the biggest spoiler.

In 2013, a supposed leaked image of a tv showing a younger version of the show’s crazy old man character, Old Man McGucket, writing in the infamous journal was uploaded anonymously (by Alex Hirsch) to 4Chan.

Despite the image only being on up for a few hours, it spread like wildfire. Much to the team’s success, theorists stopped searching for the answer to “who is the author” and just accepted the image of McGucket as the truth.

To further push the fake-out, three words were posted to Alex’s Twitter, “fuming right now.”

The tweet was deleted a few minutes later and fans genuinely believed that someone from the Gravity Falls team had leaked the most important part of the story.

While doing research, I came across a Reddit post from April 10th, 2013, the day after ‘leak,’ Alex’s tweet was uploaded. In this post, user, TheoDW uploaded an image of Alex’s tweet with the caption, “It seems that Hirsch got mad at last night’s leak. He already deleted this tweet.”

Seeing the reactions of these Redditors in 2013 is kind of weird and crazy to look at. “He has every right to be upset. Someone internally released a plot revealing screen shot of series breaking spoiler information,” a deleted Reddit account commented.

“This is Alex Hirsch’s biggest success by far, he spent a huge amount of time carefully planning out the series, and then in a moment someone releases a major spoiler. It would make anyone upset,” the user, Time_Loop commented.

“Seriously, this is a nightmare for a storyteller, and shows a breach of trust. I feel so bad for him–honestly, I hope whoever did the leak gets caught and appropriate action is taken. You don’t f–k with someone’s story like this. It’s unprofessional.” the user, lonelybeloved angrily commented.

In 2014, this ‘leak’ was finally disproven when viewers were given an episode on McGucket’s backstory and an amazing tweet from Alex Hirsch. 

Alex had post an image of himself playfully pointing at a monitor with the supposed leaked picture with the caption, “1) Make hoax  2) Upload to 4Chan  3) Post angry tweet about "leak" 4) Delete tweet 5) Let internet do rest”

It is so interesting to look at these comments know that all of this was orchestrated by Alex.

I wish I had been old enough at the time to follow theories and fandom stuff like I do now with current cartoons but really looking at this from an outside perspective, this was insane!

The real author wasn’t revealed until 2015 and when viewers first got the answer to this biggest show on their screens, they must have freaked out!

Following the finale in 2016, a single frame of a stone version of Bill Cipher, the show’s villain, flashed in after the credits had finished.

Alex Hirsch and his team actually created a real-life statue of their villain for their viewers to find and on July 20th, 2016, the Cipher Hunt began.

By following clues, the Hunters found themselves all over the world; Russia, Japan and then travelling throughout the United States for the final 12 clues. When the hunt took them to Los Angeles, actor, Jason Ritter (voice of Dipper Pines, also a massive fan of the series) and Alex Hirsch’s twin sister, Ariel Hirsch (the inspiration for Mabel) joined in the fun helping the search.

Finally, the hunt ended on August 2nd when someone tweeted out an image of the found statue in Oregon, the same state in which the fictional town of Gravity Falls exists. The Cipher Hunt had ended but finding the statue wasn’t Alex’s goal for the scavenger hunt, it was about the journey and bringing together the viewers, more than having them actually find the statue.

Creating its own hoax, an international scavenger hunt and quite a bit of nightmare fuel, Gravity Falls was a show truly unlike any other.

The 2010s saw some of the strongest cartoons ever made, Adventure Time, Gravity Falls and Steven Universe acting as the leaders for multiple different changes in the medium; storytelling, worldbuilding, interaction with viewers, utilizing social media, representation and further pushing music into the cartoon world. From what was created this past decade and what has already been released in 2020, I’m so excited to see what comes next.

I have another one of these which is on Steven Universe’s representation and music if you would like to see that too!! 

#isaac rambles #long post #gravity falls #cartoons #cartoon review #dipper pines #alex hirsch #OH MY GOD I LOVE ALEX HIRSCH'S BRAIN!!! #disney #disney channel #disney cartoons

[pandawriterstuff]

Pinehallow Summary & Character List

This is my main WIP, if I'm complaining about characters doing whatever they want, this is them.

Pinehallow Summary-Monty, an eleven year old boy who has spent most of his life traveling from place to place with his in-demand lawyer mother, Irene, is sent to live at his uncle's horse ranch because she thinks he needs roots. Used to nearly everyone but his mother not being around long enough to get to know, Monty is more than a bit uncertain about this. But in scrambling to find his place in a town different to anything he's ever known, he finds friends, both human and animal, makes discoveries, and even manages to foil a plot against Pinehallow Ranch itself.

Character List

Monty (Montgomery) Cade Waller- Main character, 11, white. Monty is curious, bright, and more than a little awkward. He has a tendency to state the obvious, which can be endearing or annoying depending on your perspective. Big vocabulary and grown-up way of speaking because he’s spent more time around grown-ups than other kids. He’s quietly stubborn, particularly when it comes to being told he’s wrong when he knows he’s right. Insecure about socializing and friendships because of constant moving and traveling. Can’t hold a grudge for the life of him, even when he likely should. He likes bugs, birds and turtles, would rather read nonfiction than a story. Fills lonely afternoons with sketching, nature sketching on the ranch.

Irene Waller- Monty’s mother, 36, white. Irene is a powerful corporate lawyer, either full of energy or exhausted, never in between. She loves using words to sway minds and deciphering documents to find exactly what the opposition doesn’t want her to find. Sometimes Irene wishes she was using her skills in more meaningful ways, but also really likes the money, the traveling, and the competition. Has an almost encyclopedic knowledge of show tunes from musicals. She has a hard time letting people get close. Would stab someone for her baby, but knows it’s better to teach him to stab for himself. Only partially joking. Dolly Parton is her hero, and as much as she loves her music, it’s Dolly the business woman and Dolly the philanthropist that she strives to emulate.

Keith Waller- Monty’s uncle, 34, white. Horse Rancher. Keith loves working hard and getting dirty, and if he’s not exhausted at the end of the day he’ll be looking for something else to push him there. Otherwise he gets antsy. Loves animals and absolutely will not tolerate anyone mistreating any of the animals on his ranch-ordinarily he’s very careful of his size and strength, in that situation, all bets are off. Times that by about ten for any of the ‘barn rats’ that help around the ranch for riding lessons/time. Loves romantic comedies and telanovas and doesn’t care who knows it. Keith doesn’t read a lot, it never came easy to him, but if he’s taking a long trip he’ll always check an audio book or two out of the library instead of just relying on the radio.

Juniper - Keith’s goddaughter, 15, white. She has a calm, confident personality with a smile for most everyone she meets. If she doesn’t have a smile for you and it isn’t because her head is in the clouds over a girl, you’ve probably earned her scorn and will be ignored as much as possible. Juniper raises rabbits and it’s taught her patience, and a lot about unfairness when a kit doesn’t make it. She helps out with riding lessons at the ranch in exchange for riding time of her own, and has become a fixture, spending more time there than she does at home, and when she can get away with it, school. Loves sunflowers and her sunflower comforter is probably her most prized possession.

Nell - Caretaker/cook for the ranch house(would cooking lunch for the workers still be a thing on a modern ranch?). 38, white(?). Not about to put up with nonsense. Will make you cookies if she doesn’t have to put up with nonsense. Please. At one point she wanted to be a chef and has a year of culinary school under her belt, but quickly decided the super fast paced and competitive environment wasn’t for her. Anything that was making her hate one of her favorite things that fast could not be good for a person. She intends to live a long, long life and that kind of stress can just walk right out of the door. Loves to go on long walks, often into the hills (BLM land) behind the ranch. (maybe she was taught/took a class on foraging, and teaches Monty to find wild onions and stuff? But this would mean *I* have to learn about foraging in Idaho.) This leads to a contented, if often silent, companionship between her and Monty, who desperately wants to explore/record/sketch everything about the natural world of his new home, particularly the parts that are off limits to him without an adult along.

Ray- Family Friend/Co-Owner of R & M General (designed to feel vintage, but shiny. Bit of a tourist stop now, they decided to lean into it.), 50, Black. He uses his background in chemistry to make amazing looking candies and chocolates, using that to deal with a time he used it in less pleasant ways when he was in the military. He never expected anybody outside of his small town, or maybe the folks at the county fair to make so much fuss over them. This might embarrass him, if he weren’t so delighted. A cheerful man with a dreamer’s heart, a magazine once referred to him as a small town Willy Wonka. He dotes on his wife, often making and gifting her small surprises. An amputee in honor of my Grandpa (missing left leg at the knee, possibly missing one arm as well, but I’m not sure how that would affect candy making.). Has certain parts of his past he just doesn’t talk about.

Mavis- Co-Owner of ____ with Ray, 48, Black. Fierce and kind in equal measures, Mavis believes in protecting what’s hers, and as far as she’s concerned the entire town of (oh my god, it needs a name) is included in that. Mavis is very selective about the battles she fights, but when she chooses one she throws herself in whole-heartedly. On several committees around town, she’d be on more, but then she wouldn’t have enough time to really get into the work of the ones she loves. She knits in her limited free time, often while listening to the news, but sometimes opera. Has started knitting stuffies in the shapes of the more unusual candies Ray makes, it’s silly, but fun, and tourists and the local kids love it. Still head over heels for Ray, even though his often dreaming about things for ages instead of just doing them is also still baffling to her.

Leanna - Juniper’s sort-of girlfriend, 15, Vietnamese. Quiet, a little cynical, but very empathetic. She avoids the news because it’s that or be mad and want to cry all the time-until she hears about something she can’t not research, and goes on a 24 hour google search and learns far more than is probably good for her about a species going extinct due to logging in prohibited areas, or genocide being covered up by claims of violent uprisings. She loves manga and comics. Leanna sometimes tries for a cottagecore* type aesthetic, but mostly thinks it's too much work. She’s starting to worry about what she’s going to do with her future, and people telling her that she’s only 15 and doesn’t have to worry about it yet is NOT HELPING.

*even though cottagecore isn’t a thing in the early-mid 2000s this is maybe/vaguely set in. Shh, let me have this. Anne of Green Gablesesque maybe?

Winnie - Leanna’s mom, 45, Vietnamese. Widow? A little ditzy, but a lot loving. Everyone in town is convinced she’s the stoner type of hippy, but no one minds as she’s someone who truly wants to know how you’re doing when she asks and strangely almost always has very spot on advice. She’s rarely on time anywhere, but that’s because she’ll have stopped to talk, and often to help, whoever she’s run into. Leanna and her bicker over this when she’s late picking her up. Always wears bright colors. Loves Agatha Christie books. Calls everyone, even people 50 years older than her, hon.

Logan - Juniper’s stepdad, 40, white. Kind of a jerk, but most of the jerky things he says are actually jokes that fall flat or have simply gotten old. Tries really hard, like *really* hard, but has a tendency to get annoyed if people don’t appreciate his efforts right away-more in his personal life than professional, possibly because of his profession. A contractor, hard worker, loyal, has worked for the same company since he was twenty even though they don’t often treat him right. Sometimes tries to buy people’s affections. Wants to have better communication with Juniper, but it’s gotten really hard the last few years and he’s never quite sure why.

Candice - Juniper’s Mom, 39, white, works at a nursery that sells seedlings and baby fruit trees, has a cheerful, calm personality, but a lot softer and more lowkey than Juniper’s version. Very house proud, but has a ‘maximalist’ approach to decorating-everything is in its place, but there are places for lots of things. Loves spending time outdoors, but would rather spend it tending her garden than hiking or riding, preferably with a cup of tea by her side. On the weekends, a fruity beer or wine instead. Wants to go on one of those train rides where you get to drink wine, eat canapes and try to solve a mystery, thinks Winnie might be a good candidate for someone to go with her.

Ura - a ‘barn rat’, 12 and a half, white(maybe a Czech immigrant? 2nd generation?) . A cheerful, rough and tumble boy who is always climbing things, and often being told to stop when he gets too high for other people's comfort. Ura is fearless when it comes to physical feats, but has a fear of ‘slimy’ things like worms and frogs. He has a thick layer of pudge and a big appetite, but is athletic and strong enough that anyone bullying him over it would be doing it at their own peril. Not that he’s the type to start fights, or even finish them most of the time. Doesn’t feel he quite fits in with his family, who are all more serious, reserved people. Redwood is his favorite of the horses, and Keith has all but given up on telling him that sitting on the floor of Red’s stall to talk to the horse isn’t exactly safe.

Elliot - Ray and Mavis’s son, Black, 19 and a college student-maybe/probably at U of I. Lives on campus, but comes home at least a couple weekends a month. Has an older car that he and Ray fixed up together, that is his pride and joy. Quiet, with an irreverent sense of humor that he unleashes somewhat at random. Interested in robotics, engines and mechanics and generally has some project he’s working on, a piece of which may or may not be in his pocket. Often has oil, grease, or ink on his hands, either from working on or designing a new project. A bit of an overachiever, he can spread himself thin trying to live up to all his responsibilities at once. He’s best friends with Randy, a friendship his parents want to disapprove of, because the few times Elliot’s gotten into trouble not only was Randy there, but 99% of the time whatever it was is Randy’s idea, but never quite manage too.

Randy - Handyman at the ranch, mixed race Hispanic and white, 21. Technically head handyman, because the old head retired six months ago, and is a little young/inexperienced for the job, but he’s not the type to back away from a challenge and has risen to the occasion beautifully. Loves rock and metal music, and spends a lot of his free weekends at concerts, the ones crammed into little venues and bars where people are practically on top of each other and the beat is so loud and solid it throbs through you, connecting you to everyone even before you hit the mosh pit, are his preference. He’s been working at the ranch since he was 16, and feels like he has a claim on it, not afraid to speak up if he thinks a decision Keith is making isn’t right or that he isn’t taking something important into consideration. Can be a bit wild when he’s not being the responsible one, definitely doesn’t always think before he acts.

Alma - Local artist/worker at R & M’s, Hispanic, 25. Alma is a painter and poet, a confident young woman who’s figured out that half of surviving as an artist is being your own agent/a salesperson as well, and in addition to several shelves at the R & M that hold postcard prints of many of her pieces, both the coffee shop and cafe have some of her larger paintings displayed, and she always has a booth at the Saturday market, though the majority of her sales come from her website. Alma is cheerful, and likes to tease, and growing up the middle child of four brothers, is very able to hold her own in verbal sparring. She’s close with her family, still living with her parents, and while at first her father was dismayed at her choice of career, he now hands out her business card to basically everyone he talks to.

Miriam - Nell’s Mom, white, 71, a little deaf, speaks loudly, partially because of the deafness, partially because she spent too long letting other people push her around and when she hit about 50 decided she was going to be the one talking over people now. She’s earned it. Age has made her more delicate than she likes, bruising and scraping easily, but she’s determined to do most things for herself. Those that are beyond her she has no problem loudly ordering someone else to take care of. Volunteers a lot, often fosters kittens for the local animal shelter. Used to chain smoke, quit when Nell was a teenager because she kept leaving pictures of diseased lungs everywhere. Still uses the candy ones as a substitute.

Places

Unnamed Town- Somewhere in Latah County, Idaho, where there is not already a town in the way. Around 200 years old and has grown and shrunk and grown again, and currently has a population of about 12,000. Having grown out from a traditional mainstreet, _______ no longer has the western style boardwalk seen in old pictures, but it does have a large cluster of local businesses and ‘hot spots’ still along that old main street, a coffee shop, a diner, a combination bookshop and independent library, a hardware store, a bar, a few places I haven’t thought of yet, and of course R & M General. There is a historical barn half a mile or so away from mainstreet that has been converted into a theater/meeting hall/dance hall, and a community center was added onto it in the early 90’s. During the summer there is a farmer’s market on the property every Saturday. The elementary school and junior high are all on one property, several miles out of town, because the majority of families live on farms, ranches or small rural properties rather than in one of the neighborhood clusters in the town itself. The junior high is 7th, 8th and 9th graders, in a newer two story building, and the elementary school is divided into lower and upper elementary with the bracket shaped building basically being cut in half, K-3 on one side and 4-6 on the other. The high school is outside of town on the other side by several miles, and actually serves kids from another town(s) as well. There is also a trailer park with about forty units, not exactly sure where it is yet, but Miriam(Nell’s Mom) lives there. There is also an animal shelter, a vet’s office, a cemetery, and a couple churches, and I’m sure more things to come.

R & M General (working title?)- Ray and Mavis’s store, a general store with a candy focused twist. A vintage Pepsi sign, neon still bright, and a charming green glass juke-box filled with hits from the 1940’s onward grace the front porch of the R & M, along with a long bench that locals are encouraged to use for a spell or to listen to a couple songs, provided they can behave themselves (teenagers arguing over who their favorite member of the rat pack is might be amusing, considering they were already ‘mom and dad’, or at least older brother and sister, music by the time Mavis and Ray were teenagers, but when they get loud it also gets annoying.). The store itself still has the original wooden counter up front and built-in shelves along the walls, but all refinished and polished to a high shine. A mixture of display types going down the middle of the store, barrels and baskets filled with skeins of colorful yarn and cloth or Mavis’s knitted stuffies(and during winter sometimes socks and mittens), other sewing and craft supplies, display racks with local arts, postcards and carvings, sometimes wind up toys made by Elliot, and of course many, many displays of candies and chocolates. They also have a lot of dry goods, and some of the simpler candy types have little instruction booklets and the ingredients it takes to try out making them yourself stocked in the same display, drink coolers, and sometimes have local produce available. Basically, they have a bit of everything, except for building equipment/home repair supplies, and that’s because of the hardware store across the street.

Pinehallow Ranch-A sprawling 100 acre ranch in Latah County, Idaho where the Waller family has been doing something or other with horses for four generations now. Originally it was a horse breeding ranch, but Keith and Irene’s grandfather felt the money was in training horses, and offered boarding as well, and Keith has continued to build that up, offering lessons for a variety of styles, ages, and skill levels. Butting up against BLM land that allows additional grazing and trail riding, the ranch has four pastures, a large corral, a medium sized indoor arena and two horse barns, one for boarded horses and one for the ranch's own stock, and an equipment barn, an old bunkhouse that is mostly used to store feed-though Randy has slept there when in between places, mostly unbeknownst to Keith-and some smaller equipment sheds, placed where they’re needed. The main house is an L-shaped ranch house with a porch that goes around the entire long front of the house with a large herb/kitchen and rock garden arranged around that. There are treed pockets scattered here and there, left alone as the rest of the ranch was developed, but the creek Monty and Juniper sometimes hang out at is on BLM land, as is most of the forested area around the ranch.

Pinehallow Taglist @sleepysera @enchanted-lightning-aes @odysseywritings @thegreatobsesso @writing-is-a-martial-art and @hiitsolivia If anyone else wants to be added just interact with the post :) (My more advanced tumblr knowledge has led me to believe this is better than asking people to reblog/comment to be added, but if I'm wrong just let me know.)

#character list #oc list #someday I'll do a proper series introduction #and an introduction for me #but today is not that day #pinehallow ranch #original writing #I tend to build my world around the characters #backwards I know