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dia-souls · 1 year

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☕️ Reiyui fanfic ☕️

Pairing : Reiji x Yui

TW : ⚠️ Death, Tragedy end ⚠️

Author : Admin Afra

Admin's Note : This fanfic is about the Reiji HDB Manservant ending and Cordelia's soul is still in Yui's body.

🌸 Silver Moonlight 🌸

Yui woke up with a heavy feeling in her body and found herself laying down in Reiji's bed. A month had passed since Reiji saved her from Cordelia. Yui thought she had recovered from the traumatic event, but the pain still lingers and keeps her awake at night. She had frequent chest pain from all the times her heart stopped. The fact that Cordelia was still alive and still in control of her body made Yui restless. The whole situation was unbearably sad and depressing.

Yui rarely sees Reiji anymore. He locked himself in his laboratory to develop a solution for destroying Cordelia. Reiji also attempted to bring his mother, Beatrix, back to life with a potion. He had been experimenting with it for a long time now.

Yui slowly got up from the bed and walked towards Reiji's laboratory. At the entrance, she cracked open the door. For even how slightly she opened it, there was a loud creaking noise. Reiji turned to look at the peeping girl in the hallway. He looked in the midst of studying. In his hands held a large, open book.

"Oh, are you awake? Why are you here?" The man shook his head in confusion.

"Umm, Reiji-san. I wanted to see what you were doing?"

"You don't need to know. Go back to your room and rest, and if you notice anything strange, let me know immediately." He gestured toward the door.

Yui felt sad again. Reiji was showing her the cold shoulder yet again. She knew deep down it was only because of Cordelia’s presence in her body, but his quick dismissal still hurt. Yui was worried about him and his condition. Cordelia was still a real danger, but maybe Reiji was being too hard on himself? He has been cooped up in the laboratory day after day working for who knows how long. Another unwanted thought kept prodding her mind too. If there was possibility that Cordelia came back to life, what would that mean for Reiji? What would that mean for herself? With so much to say but not a single soul in the room who wanted to hear it, Yui turned around and walked away without another word.

TIMESKIP :

Reiji reviews the final details of administering the potion and leaves the room. He creeps down a set of long hallways that lead behind the Sakamaki mansion. Once outside, he crouches down where a brown coffin is laying on the ground. The coffin is made of oak wood and gives off a slight fragrance. Lifting his hand, he reaches for the latch and slowly opens the coffin door. The coffin reveals the body of a woman with skin as cold as ice.

"Hah. It's been a long time. It's time for you to come alive, Mother."

Taking out the potion, he twists open the cap. Then he slowly tips the liquid and pours it into the woman’s parted lips. This was no ordinary woman, she was the beautiful queen of vampires. Her beautiful blue eyes shot open, as if she was never asleep at all.

"Hello mother, welcome back."

{[_______________ 🌹 _______________]}

Yui walked slowly under the moonlight in the courtyard of the Sakamaki mansion. The pure and concentrated radiance of the moon gave off a silver shimmer to the ground below. But the beauty of the courtyard did not silence her painful thoughts. Feelings of loneliness overshadowed her more and more every day. She was trying to stay away from Reiji so Cordelia wouldn't hurt him. After all, this was Beatrix’s advice to Yui after being revived.

It had been almost a month since Beatrix returned. Since then, Reiji spent less time with Yui and was always by his mother's side. The problem didn’t end there because Beatrix was not very friendly. Beatrix knew Yui’s weak spot, and never passed the chance to bring it up. With Cordelia’s heart beating so strongly, Beatrix forbid Yui from contacting her sons. And although Yui disliked her insults and casual put-down, deep down she knew staying away would be the right thing to do…no matter how hard it was.

With a heavy feeling in her heart, Yui continued to walk the path in between the thorny bushes. With one of the roses sticking out, she caressed the soft petal with her thumb. Despite all her sadness, the ambassador’s garden was still beautiful and the moonlight was ever present.

She sighed, "I wonder what Reiji-san might be doing right now?”

Yui continued to caress the white rose. With one last stroke her thumb slipped, scratching one of the thorns.

"Ouch! Ah, it's interesting how even the most beautiful things can hurt. That's probably the best description for Cordelia. Beautiful but dangerous."

Pulling her hand away, she put the injured digit in her mouth. It stung at first, but the warmth enveloping her finger was soothing. With her finger rinsed of most of the blood, she continued to walk with more caution.

TIMESKIP

The moonlight continued to spread it’s beautiful and bright light in the mansion. The light leaked through the windows and the almost transparent curtains. For hours, the small and beautiful girl walked under the moonlight. Not that she was bored or for any other reason other than drowning out her thoughts and loneliness. Her soft hands caressed the flowers in the garden as she passed by. Her pink eyes resembled bright roses as she scanned every surrounding bush. Every feature of the girl shinned under the brilliant moonlight. Her once golden and fluffy hair was muted into a silvery blonde. If someone was close enough, it could be mistaken for glitter. Some might be tricked into thinking it was an otherworldly goddess walking on the ground.

Yui looks at the moonlit sky with tears in her eyes.

"Reiji-san, I miss you. I want to be with you."

In this quiet solitude, tears flowed from her eyes. She gripped her left hand to calm herself down. She overwhelmed by all these sad thoughts that never seemed to go way, until her attention was drawn to a sound behind her. At first she thought it was a cat hissing. Once she turned her head it was a very different vision. The queen of vampires was staring straight at her. Her bright and beautiful blue eyes could cut through glass.

"It's unbelievable to see a mortal human being so enamored by a predatory vampire."

Yui, who was trying to hide her tears, slowly turned her head and gave a bitter smile.

"Oh, Beatrix-san. Are you awake?"

"Don't forget that I'm a vampire. Unlike humans, I don't need sleep."

The beautiful vampire slowly approached the scared girl.

"More importantly, you don't have to hide anything. I know how your feeling."

Hearing this, Yui blushed and tried to hide her embarrassment.

"Ummmmm. Beatrix-san. I....I..."

"In any case, if you really love Reiji, then stay away from him. As long as that woman's heart is in your body, being around Reiji every moment is dangerous. Please don't be upset, I just don't want anything to happen to Reiji."

The beautiful queen said this and slowly walked away from Yui. The moonlight trailed her figure as she disappeared back into the shadows. Now exasperated, Yui sat on the floor with a heavy feeling in her heart. She couldn’t escape this feeling of sadness and cried silently.

While lying on her bed, Yui looked at the beautiful reflection of the moonlight coming from the window. Raising her hand, she was mesmerized how the light filtered through her fingers. Opening and closing her palm looked as if she captured the silver light in her hand.

Eventually, the dark clouds would pass over and conceal most of the remaining moonlight. This left Yui alone in complete darkness with nothing left to comfort her sorrow.

When Yui woke up the next morning, she felt a heavy weight on her backside. Turning her head, she was surprised at the sight next to her. Reiji was sleeping with a hand around Yui’s waist.

"When did Reiji-san come to my room?" She muttered with sleep still in her voice.

Doing a double-take at her lover's face, she began to quietly admire his beauty. Thinking of how beautiful Reiji looked, she slowly threaded her fingers through his hair. Maybe she shouldn’t be doing this right now, considering Beatrix’s warning, but that didn’t stop her. What DID stop her though was what followed next. Only seconds after she started petting his head, a hand reached up and grabbed her wrist.

"How dare you touch me secretly in my sleep"

"Oh Reiji-san! Are you awake? No…I didn't mean to…I just wanted to—"

Before Yui's could finish speaking, Reiji sat up on the bed. Still holding her hand with a death-grip, he pulled her towards his chest and into his arms. Although it looked like an intimate embrace, this didn’t relax Yui. She couldn’t move at all with his arms entrapping her.

"Fufu…it was a good attempt to justify your mistake. Now tell me, how can I punish you for the bad thing you did?"

"Ummm. Reiji-san, I—"

"There's no way you're going to run away from it. So stay still while I begin my training."

Reiji puts his head on Yui's shoulder and as his hot breath tickles Yui's skin. His lips met Yui’s skin as he started pecking soft kisses on her body.

"My beloved Yui, today I want to drown you with my love."

Reiji kissed Yui’s soft skin, until she felt two sharp teeth biting down. Red blood flowed down Yui’s snow-white skin as he sucked her blood. Yui was close to fainting at how much blood was coming out.

"Reiji-san.....please stop....I've reached my limit......I'm losing consciousness..."

This reaction made Reiji smirk.

"You haven't forgotten that this your punishment, did you? You were a bad girl, so now you have to be punished."

Yui looked at Reiji with bright and teary eyes. She hoped her expression would do all the work and convey to him that she was sorry.

"Reiji-san.....please..."

Reiji stroked Yui's head with his glove-covered hands.

"I don't mind if we end it here, but only on one condition. Say three golden words and I will release you."

"Reiji-san…please forgive me."

At her response, Reiji grabbed Yui's chin and forced her to look him in the eyes.

"No. Those were not the three words I asked for."

Hearing this, Yui blushed and tried to hide her embarrassment. She knew what he wanted to hear but the words were unable to come out. Reiji was staring directly into her eyes too. His eyes were so wide in anticipation that Yui could see her reflection. There was no way to get out of a confession this time. So, Yui lowered her head and tried to whisper.

"Reiji-san, I…I love you."

These words satisfied Reiji.

"Good girl. This is your reward."

Reiji pressed his face into the girl’s soft lips for a kiss. After the long kiss, he guided her head to rest on his chest. Her hair was so soft that he was compelled to touch and feel it. It smelled so clean and fresh too. Drawing his head down, he pressed another kiss into her hair.

"My beloved, stay calm and relaxed for I will always be by your side."

[{ _______________ 🌹 _______________ }]

The sound of glass breaking enveloped the bathroom. Yui had locked herself inside to drown out the noise. She had been screaming to the point of tears. Her frustration resulted in a broken mirror.

"Get out! Get out. Get away from me! Please get away from me…I'm begging you! Please get out!"

While screaming, she fell on the ground and fainted. She had been fighting with Cordelia for a long time to get out of her body. She desperately wanted to stay with Reiji. She tied her best, but Cordelia was too powerful. This is what Beatrix warned of. Yui loved Reiji dearly. The thought that Cordelia could come back and hurt Reiji made her sick. Locking the door seemed to be the only reasonable option. If she didn’t keep her distance, Cordelia could try to possess Reiji in some way. Of course, Yui knew Reiji was smart and knows when he is being deceived. But this was no relief for Yui's heartache.

Yui slumped down to the floor and thought of ways to calm herself. Reiji always visited her and brought her food, but Yui avoided eating lately. Her inner turmoil and self-destruction made it hard to swallow a spoonful of anything. It made her weak, but it was at least better than throwing up. Guilt panted her for how much trouble she caused Reiji.

Yui felt very lonely. She couldn't bear this cramped and dark room anymore. Finally, she decided to go outside the room and explain herself. Maybe Reiji would understood her and find a way to help?

TIMESKIP

Yui, who was squeezing her chest tightly, ran along the corridor as fast as she could. Covering her ears didn’t help anymore, Cordelia was already inside her head. But over all the voices, she could not believe what she heard in the other room. Was it…Beatrix…and Reiji?

“No…did she just ask Reiji to…kill me?” she whispered to herself in disbelief.

Refusing to believe what she just heard, Yui continued to listen for more information and tilted her head toward the noise. They wouldn’t be happy if they caught her eavesdropping, but the noise practically bounced off the walls.

Listening further into their conversation only confirmed Yui’s deepest fears. She was asking Reiji to kill her.

Knowing this new information, Yui turned around and ran back down the corridor in the opposite direction. Not knowing whether she should hide or try to escape, or maybe even try to forget what she heard. Is ignorance bliss in this situation? Reiji would never do this to her. He physically could…but would he? Drowning in these thoughts caused a severe pain to overwhelm her.

"No! Please stop it! Please don't hurt Reiji-san!"

Cordelia took over Yui's body and reached for a knife hidden away in her clothing. The knife was untarnished silver that reflected in the moonlight from the window. A new idea sparked in her head…

"If they want to kill me. I will do it sooner"

Yui's soul was trapped deep inside her body and she was struggling to save her beloved. Her efforts were useless, Cordelia had fully taken over her body.

Gripping the weapon in one hand, Yui slammed open the door to Reiji's room.

"Yui, is something wrong? Do you need something?"

With a knife behind her back, she slowly approached him.

"Reiji-san, I am very lonely. Can I be with you?"

Reiji looked into Yui's almost innocent eyes and hugged her. She was ‘lonely’…how typical of Yui to say.

Using the flat side of his hand he tried massaging Yui’s tense shoulder blades. But before he knew it, there was a tightness in his chest. Stumbling back, he looked down at the knife that split open his chest. His legs went limp and he fell to the ground. Fortunately, the knife did not puncture his heart.

Yui, at a last resort to save her lover, finally returned. She looked at Reiji again with innocent eyes. There was so much bleeding. She thoughtlessly put the weight of her hands on the wound to stop it. Reiji shot up from the pressure and gritted his teeth from the pain. She had no clue how to stop it. She could rip off some clothing and apply more pressure…but is that enough to save him? Tears gathered in her eyes as she hugged Reiji on the floor.

"Reiji-san. I'm sorry…I'm really sorry. It's all my fault! I won't let you get hurt anymore." Her tears choking at the words.

With this final message, she kissed Reiji's cheek and stepped back, pointing the knife at her heart.

Reiji was shocked.

"Yui, wait. What are you doing?"

"Fufu...Reiji-san. I love you."

Yui said her last words with a bright smile and plunged the knife into her heart. The force of the knife made her body fall backwards.

"Yui! Yui! NOOOOOO."

Still in pain, Reiji rushed to Yui’s side. He frantically shook her lifeless body.

"Yui, wake up! Please, I'm begging you…wake up…my beloved Yui. Please wake up..."

Although a beautiful smile remained on her face, she was in a deep sleep. She was happy that her lover was now free of Cordelia.

Reiji pressed his tear-stained cheek to Yui's. The knife we still sticking out of her heart. So, he bit his tongue and ripped it out. It couldn’t hurt her anymore now.

"My beloved Yui, you said you loved me. Now I will whisper those same golden words to you."

Reiji whispered softly in Yui's ear.

"Yui. I love you."

He said this and plunged the knife back into his heart.

Once again, moonlight filled the room with a silver glow. A thin veil of light over two dead lovers and a bed of red roses. Hands entertained. Forever.

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #yui komori #komori yui #reiji sakamaki #sakamaki reiji #reiji x yui #yui x reiji #reiyui #reiyui fanfic #diabolik lovers fanfic #diabolik lovers fanfiction #diabolik lovers fandom

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toskarin · 1 year

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Language Disguises Thought, Baby (1/2)

I said I'd do this, so consider this the opening to my Space Dandy episode-by-episode minireview post. I'm going to break this up into season 1 and 2 because there's a very clear shift that happens between them (although I'd argue that a few late season 1 episodes show this shift)

there will be no scores, no rankings, just a few sentences and my take on whether I liked an episode or thought it fell flat. these are more of rambles than actual reviews, so I'm not even trying to offer anything besides my opinion

<EVERYBODY COME ON>!

1: Live with the Flow, Baby

this isn't my favourite episode, but it does something very important: it catches your attention. it very quickly and (arguably) elegantly teaches you about how inconsequential mortality is to the crew of the Aloha Oe. this may be a strange comparison, but it reminds me a lot of Ichigo Mashimaro Episode 0 in terms of tone

I forgot just how funny this show was. improved immensely by watching it on a couch with others, so that no slapstick or animation gag goes un-giggled-at

in isolation, this is a very okay episode. as the first episode tasked with easing people into a very weird show, it does its job well

2: The Search for the Phantom Space Ramen, Baby

I may be a bit biased in saying this, because there's a memory attached to this episode, but this is one of my favourites of early season 1. Meow is a very charismatic character who would be completely insufferable if not for Dandy, and the same is true in reverse

the martial arts homage in this episode is fantastic, even if it feels a bit like a red herring for Cowboy Bebop fans in the same way as the woolongs are

you also start seeing the existential themes emerging which become the show's bread and butter later on. this is an episode I'd consider "essential" to understanding the tone of Space Dandy

3: Occasionally Even the Deceiver Is Deceived, Baby

an incredibly funny episode. I remember people making a big deal out of this back when the series first aired, with plenty of people dropping it outright (as was the fashion at the time) because it seemed like it was going to be an ecchi comedy

all that said, there's so many visual gags in this episode. it feels weird to try and fine-comb what makes these early episodes good, given how obvious it is: they're not afraid to be silly and have fun

I'm being very gentle on the first few episodes because opening for a show like Space Dandy before anything was really established had to be brutal

4: Sometimes You Can't Live with Dying, Baby

the first time I saw this episode, as it was airing, I still hadn't realised how the show was going to be formatted. the second half felt like a kick in the ribs that I didn't fully recover from until several episodes later, when I finally stopped trying to figure out how the zombie thing resolved

this episode is a little bit of a dud to me, despite the hilarious second half, because it's just not all that interesting. even so, a middling episode of Space Dandy still beats [checks what else was on at the time] ah, yeah, that's why I don't remember much about this season besides the four series I watched at the time

what do you want me to say about it? it's the zombie episode. it's fine. I could take or leave it

5: A Merry Companion Is a Wagon in Space, Baby

I've spent years singing this episode's praises. I watched it three times when it came out. can you imagine how scared I was about the off chance I'd see it on the rewatch and find it lost its luster? the good news is, it didn't. I still got a little choked up

A Merry Companion stands so strongly that it could have existed outside of Space Dandy as its own series. fortunately, it doesn't have to. for my money, this is the best episode of the entire series.

and what a needle drop! the montage of Dandy and Adélie travelling to Want to Know has some of the best vibes (for lack of a better word) the series ever clicks together

heartfelt, melancholy, and sincere. paced like a delicious meal that leaves you wanting nothing. peak television. this is the episode where Dandy becomes really likeable beyond surface level novelty

6: The War of the Undies and Vests, Baby

this episode has one of the "dudes rock" moments of all time when Dandy and Meow are arbitrarily assigned sides in a pointless conflict and immediately start beating each other up for reasons they don't understand. this episode would be a dud to me if it weren't so funny

...and if it didn't have that finale.

regardless of how you feel about the entire plot of this episode being designed to anticlimax and set the stage for the Stardust Pipeline needle drop, it's a great needle drop, so it's hard to feel too grouchy about that

of course, maybe that's the point? Space Dandy is about nonsequiturs and going with the flow, so this episode actually conveys that philosophy really well. a passing grade, if only on technicality

7: A Race in Space Is Dangerous, Baby

I like death races. I like bishies. I like homoeroticism, and I like rock organ solos. these are all things you should know about me before you get upset that I really enjoyed this episode.

the sheer quantity of colourful fun in this episode is unbelievable. it's incoherent, it doesn't say much, but it stuck the landing for me. this episode is quintessential Space Dandy, distilled... for better and worse! but that's part of why I like it

also Dandy symbolically tops a twink in this episode and it's not subtext. lot to unpack there.

8: The Lonely Pooch Planet, Baby

a rare case where the second half of the episode being so irreverent actually does detract from the first half. this is another episode where we get to see the heart behind Space Dandy, and then we get a diversion into an (admittedly funny) slapstick plot

this one doesn't really stick with me as much as it should, given how gorgeous the animation is. I don't think they needed to change the format, but I'm not sure they chose the correct second half for this one

this episode, to me, falls flat. sadly.

9: Plants Are Living Things, Too, Baby

inconsolable. this episode is every bit as insane as I remembered.

looping back around to the criticism I made of episode 8, this episode doesn't even have a pivot. it's just a weird enough concept to feel confident in riding it out until the end

and you know what? it works. I got emotional over some faceless plants.

heartfelt, beautiful, and of course, lots of fun. this episode is a treat and it would be a disservice to try and fail to articulate every reason why

10: There's Always Tomorrow, Baby

I completely forgot the lesbian twist and almost threw up laughing. this episode manages to combine quiet beauty and batshit humour seamlessly, with a universally understandable emotional thread. Meow becomes a significantly more likeable character for having this context

and credit where it's due, the lesbian gag is really good. it doesn't feel mean-spirited and is careful to ensure that the joke comes off as "Meow realises that he never asked if his crush was actually into him" instead of "Katie is a lesbian and this is Meow's divine punishment for abandoning his friends"

the Endless Eight homage is cute, too. this, in all honesty, feels like the first episode to engage fully with the themes that would define season 2

11: I'm Never Remembering You, Baby

do you ever feel like you're willingly calling yourself an idiot online and nobody's even paying you to do it? that's how I feel saying that this episode is just okay to me.

the concept of the librarian is extremely creative, along with the library planet and the way it works. it just doesn't do as much for me as the more colourful episodes

12: Nobody Knows the Chameleon Alien, Baby

big fan of this episode. there are so many amazing gags in it that you'd be doing yourself a disservice by watching it alone

with that praise delivered, it's a really straightforward concept and I'm not sure what I can say about it. it's funny that QT gets really into fishing for tsuchinoko, it's funny that the chameleonian disguises itself as a random guy, it's funny that they have a game show

it's a funny episode. I like the jokes, and that's a perfectly fine way to be a good episode

13: Even Vacuum Cleaners Fall in Love, Baby

I fully believe this episode started as a post-it note. the concept of "a vacuum cleaner falls in love with a coffee maker that gets thrown away" just feels like that. what a sweet episode, though

some wild sakuga in this one for a character who doesn't really lend to sakuga. the novelty of seeing QT engage in mecha combat elevated the finale of this episode

this is also a pretty nice continuation of the plot thread where our trio has to come to accept that not everyone is available to them. just like with Katie, there's plenty of obvious foreshadowing that QT is missing something

#rambles #space dandy

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bloodpen-to-paper · 1 year

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Review Blurbs: The Owl House Finale!

This is quite late but here it is, my assortment of random thoughts and screenshots from the finale.

-For one, the music was phenomenal; I feel like the crew really leaned into the fantasy elements for the soundtrack and it worked very well!

-The animation was gorgeous as usual, especially for the final battle (I adored everyone's outfits this episode). The finale went all out with the set and character designs so there is no shortage of stuff to draw once I get into sketching!

-Speaking of the final battle, you could tell they wanted something action packed but not repetitive to other final fight scenes. Luz wasn't just punching the hell out of Belos, she was aiming to separate him from the heart so he'd be powerless, while Eda helped her stronghold her way to him as King and Raine kept up defenses. Its an interesting juxtaposition from how Luz imagined her "epic fight scenes" from the very first episode of the show, where she's firing a bazooka at a giant monster with explosions going off and all the works; even though this final fight scene was flashy, the ultimate goal was to destabilize Belos into a weaker form so he couldn't cause any more harm, and I feel like that in itself show's Luz's growth as a person with a more grounded head on her shoulders.

-Very surprised that the show actually killed off Belos. Like, no imprisonment, no open-ended interpretation; they legit watched him corrode from acid rain and then curb stomped him to death. That's one helluva message to send in a kid's show (which I elaborated on in this post), and its very bold of the crew considering how strongly media tends to push for pacifism in children's content. Networks don't want kids thinking death is justified for bad people until they're at least old enough to understand the severity of taking a life, and I honestly can understand where they're coming from. However, that scene definitely did work very well when it comes to Luz's character (my thoughts are on the linked post) which is why I understand the decision to do it for the sake of storytelling. So yeah, very bold move that I think could've been executed better, but can't say I'm not very impressed.

-Ok, on to screenies!

I am unhealthily obsessed with this look. Of course Mr./Ms. "but he does get his good looks from me" Titan would make sure Luz was dripped out in the most stylish final form possible lmao. I also like how her form of ultimate power includes all the magic glyphs being used at once, something I'm sure only the Titans could handle (well, the Titans + one funky little human).

Funny frames for your serotonin (featuring King going into shock)

We finally met the Titan! (Dilf detected) Seriously his vibe was great, he really is a laid back dad giving Luz uncle advice. Also loved how he is canonically nonbinary (he mentioned he was viewed as a king and a queen and that being called "dad" was not inherent to him but was acceptable). It was very poetic how we meet him through Luz and see him finally leave as a spirit; we want him to come back but we've known he was dead, and nothing could change that. At the very least, he got a final send off, and one last word in to his son through Luz. Gonna miss you Titan papa <;3 (Obligatory he looks and acts like Sans Undertale fuck you)

Eda's chaotic smirk makes me weak in the knees. Dear god. Anyway

Of course Hooty makes his return in the most extra way possible, that's why he's my favorite lmao

Amity being disgusted by Hooty's existence, some things never change <3

Alador finally got that hug! I remember people commenting on how important it was that when Amity was open to forgiving Alador for his parenting, he went for a hug and she rejected it, saying that they'd work on it. She set boundaries and opened up to her father when she was ready to, when she felt she could trust him again, which makes this hug all the more rewarding.

Eda's a Headmaster! Very fitting for her that her whole journey since the start of the show was learning to become a mentor, and now she's the principle of her own school "The University of Wild Magic". Also love the new look (the pirate hook is so extra, and so very Eda).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That's about it! There were many parts of the finale that I feel others have gone over already so I'll leave that up to them. Thanks for reading and have a good one. Goodbye The Owl House, until next time!

#gonna miss this fandom #but you'll be seeing me here and there #review blurbs #the owl house #toh #watching and dreaming #luz noceda #eda clawthorne #hooty #toh hooty #the titan #toh titan #amity blight #alador blight #the owl house spoilers #toh spoilers #also the link to the post I talked about isn't active yet but once I post it you'll see it

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leovoid · 2 years

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Read your powerful essay. Can't wait for it to be finished. Curious if you are going to delve into the Nameless Monster book elements concerning Johan. A lot of reviewers seem to ignore it. Upon the notion that Johan did everything for Anna, I always perceived it as such. But I never had the information gathered in front of me to strongly incline myself to that belief until now. So thank you. In regards to that book, I thought Johan based his entire identity on that book, right? He saw himself as the Monster in the book who ends up taking the name Johan from another boy. Which Johan eventually does when he gets adopted by his final parents whom we never see die or not.

Anyways, the end of the book the monster eats his other half. Johan doesn't seem to ever give the intention on doing this despite his obsession with the book. I believe this is why a lot of people believe Johan wanted to kill Nina, why he invited her to Ruhenheim at the end so that they could both die. But I read your earlier post on why Johan pointed the gun on the kid instead of Anna and could not agree more.

If Johan really did want to kill Nina and consume her just like the monster did in the book, he would have aimed his gun at her in Ruhenheim and most of all, her forgiveness would not have held any merit to him if that is what he wanted to do. I think that is where a lot of the confusion lies in regards to Johan and his feelings with his sister because a lot of Johan's foundations are like a bunch of different colored yarn twisted together instead of unraveled orderly.

I wanted to believe Johan loved her as an individual person, not because he viewed her as an extension of himself that he would consume later because there were A LOT of other elements to the story that contradicted the original notion that Johan as the nameless monster would kill the monster that went south; the acorn game, the fact that he cried at the hospital for her, the fact that he was willing to die and still implore her to run from the monster, the fact that he took her from the hospital to run only to leave her behind for her well being all the while letting her change her name and identity that did not include him. HE by his own hand destroyed her role as the other half of the nameless monster that went south.

She was no longer the nameless monster that parted from him; she had an identity and a name for people to call because of what he sacrificed.

It's such a powerful concept that people ignore and I feel the people who truly believe Johan only saw Anna as himself and wanted to die with her at the end to complete the story he engraved himself into only understood the story at surface level.

Besides...why the hell would Johan want to entertain and complete a story written by the person he hated the most??

Anyways, you and your twin sister's essays helped me unwind the mess in my head. Thank you for that and sorry for this long post.

First off, thank you so much for your kind words, and I truly do enjoy long written and thoughtful posts such as this, so please never apologize for it. Truth be told, I am going to include the nameless monster in the video, because it is very important, not just because of how it parallels Johan, but also because of how it ends. Most people perceive the end of the book, where the monster eats the other monster as a means to be the only one left standing in the world, but I don't think that is the case at all. What I perceive the ending to be, is Johan, the monster, devoured the monster that was within Anna, shouldering the burden of being the monster all alone. That was what it meant when he left her behind with the Fortners, and set on the journey to devour her "Monster" Annas past. Or at least, that is how I see it. I can't wait for you to see the video when it is complete, thank you so much for your words, it truly inspires me to continue further and finish the video ^^ Really, thank you so very much.

#monster #anime #anime analysis #naoki urasawa's monster #johan liebert #the nameless monster

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thelittleredheadedmusician · 3 years

Text

I don't want to linger any longer

DCU Gen Rating: G Words: 7,523 AO3

In upstate New York there's a very lush, very expensive summer camp that caters to the children of the rich and famous. Bruce and Oliver happen to be those children. And they're less than thrilled to be at this camp.

Alfred was leery of the summer camp. Bruce went to public school partially because of Martha's pointed remarks regarding democracy and public education, partly because of her pointed remarks regarding Thomas's own time at boarding schools and prep schools surrounded by equally rich and entitled boys. Alfred never said anything at the time, it wasn't his place, and would never say anything now but, he whole heartedly believed both. Especially after his own childhood in private schools, even if the times and the British and American systems were very different. Regardless, Bruce was remaining in public school with all the trials it entailed. Including the socializing problem.

He'd always been a quiet, almost shy child but after Martha and Thomas died he retreated far beyond. Even friends from before like Miss Zatara took coaxing and occasionally trickery to get him to interact with. At thirteen and with the beginnings of acne and voice cracks the behavior was partially to be expected. The newfound interest in The Clash was too. Still, Alfred felt strongly that the boy should have the opportunity to at least try and make some friends. So when he overheard some of the women mentioning the summer camp during one of the Wayne Foundation luncheons Bruce insisted they attend "for appearances" (and Alfred was a little worried about the thought process behind that as well but well, one thing at a time) he had to break his normal rule and butt in.

"Pardon me, but what summer camp might this be?" He tried to be as nonobtrusive as possible, it still raised some eyebrows from the women with their pearls and perfect red lipsticks. Their clothes were so immaculate that while he knew they all had nannies, looking at them you never would've even known they had children. Alfred no longer owned a single shirt that wasn't stained somewhere by something, he just hid them well.

The blonde in the most putrid shade of chartreuse he's ever seen recovered first. "Oh! Camp Open Woods. It's in upper state New York, very exclusive but so worth it." Mimi flicked her wrist and half rolled her eyes as though to indicate sending the children she never saw there was the best parenting tip she'd ever taken. Mitzie shifted her hair before continuing, "They've got hiking and horses and like there's a lake." The other women all hum and coo their agreement at how pretty it is, Muffy silenced them with a brow, she was the one who started the story after all. "The kiddos just love it there. Go for a month a time. Would be there year round if they could!" They all nod enthusiastically in agreement.

"Sounds lovely." Which isn't strictly incorrect, but Alfred sincerely doubts these women would actually know whether their children enjoyed the camp or not. "I'll have to look into it, thank you," Alfred excuses himself. He will look into it.

The camp itself does seem the definition of picturesque, with acres of land and woods as well as the lake. The cabins looked to be clean and well maintained. The extensive list of activities alone made Alfred want to go. He reached out to the nannies he'd made friends with over the years, trying to gauge how any of the kids who attended regularly really felt. And the reviews were glowing.

Alfred made an executive decision, the fresh air would be good for Bruce, and called to secure a place for June. Just one month, to test it. Bruce might not be pleased at not having been consulted but Alfred was sure the end results would be well worth it. And if not, it's not like the boy could fire him in revenge. Legal guardianship made that rather tricky.

Oliver heard someone stop in the hall outside his room. From where he sat on the floor organizing the old jazz records his mother had given him he couldn't see who it was, the bed was in the way and he didn't really want to move everything just to get up. That seemed like a lot of work. Whoever it was could just come in. Or talk. Whatever. He wasn't moving.

"Are you in here, Oliver?" he finally heard his mother ask, apparently having grown impatient.

"Yes."

"I signed you up for camp. You leave for New York in the morning. It comes very highly recommended, I'm sure you'll enjoy it. Chef is making your favorite chicken parmesan as a treat for dinner at six. I will see you then." The sound of her heels were nearly silent as she made her way back down the hall with its plush carpeting.

Taking a minute to process this, Oliver stared at the short shelves in front of him momentarily. Well there went his record organizing, now he was going to have to try and pack.

Bruce narrowed his eyes as Alfred slowed to turn the car onto a narrow lane that was barely a break in the trees. A large, wooden arch above it was carved to proclaim it as the entrance to "Camp Open Woods." Somehow, Bruce managed to narrow his eyes even more. Though he suspected it made him look like he was squinting. Especially by the way Alfred pressed his lips into a tight line, an obvious tell that he was trying not to smile.

The lane curved gently through the trees until they opened up to show a field, teenagers and college students in soft blue polo shirts and khaki shorts were scattered throughout it, directing cars in where to park and kids and parents in where to go next. A girl with brightly colored beads on the ends of her tight braids waved at Bruce through the window as they passed. Tentatively, he waved back at the counselor.

Once they were parked, the sleek black sedan settling a little into the grass as they both got out, Bruce immediately slung his backpack on and beat Alfred to the trunk to pull out his bulky footlocker. "Master Bruce," Alfred chided gently, reaching in to help lift the heavy thing, "I do wish you'd let me do that."

"It's fine, Alfred," Bruce protested. Even if the help was appreciated. "Isn't the whole point of this to teach me to be self-sufficient?" Bruce tried to level his steeliest gaze on the man. The unimpressed look he got in return told Bruce he might need to work on that.

Alfred sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in the process -- and really Bruce didn't think his actions warranted that level of dramatics -- before leveling a flat look at Bruce. "No, Master Bruce. The point of this endeavor is that you enjoy yourself with peers of your own age. Possibly make friends. Build lifelong bonds. Get a nasty sunburn on the first day and minor bear scare on the last."

Bruce frowned and lifted one end of the battered footlocker Alfred had dislodged from the attic the week before. Possibly, it had been Alfred's and come from some hidden corner of the man's room as Bruce had never seen it before even in all his exploring of the manor's nooks and crannies. "Exiting pursued by a bear is not a worthy goal, Alfred," he said dryly.

Lifting the other end of the footlocker the duo began to make their way towards the counselors with carts lined up at the front of the field. "Maybe not for yourself, but personally an exciting and Shakespearean end would be the greatest achievement of my mundane existence."

He snorted, and Alfred wondered where his own penchant for melodrama came from.

"Hiya folks!" The young man next to a cart already loaded with duffels and trunks waved brightly as they approached. "Welcome to camp! Where are you staying?"

Bruce glanced to Alfred and Alfred returned the look, both challenging the other to speak first. If Bruce admitted that he had read and memorized the pre-camp welcome packet then Alfred would see it as a win. If Alfred's patience crumbled before Bruce's then it would vastly undermine the veneer of authority Alfred had managed to paint over their strange relationship. The poor guy standing by the cart was starting to look uncomfortable.

Finally, Bruce broke. He was going to be here for a month, it's not like he'd have to see Alfred be smug during that time. "Pine Ridge," he said flatly.

The counselor visibly sagged in relief. "Ok, great! You're going to toss your gear on that cart up there where Gambit's standing then follow the road to the Health Center to turn in your paperwork and get your head and foot check."

Wrinkling his nose, Bruce nodded. He wasn't really a fan of being touched, even for medical examinations, and was a little glad he got a heads up. He'd briefly forgotten about the fact the packet had said there would be a lice and athlete's foot examination. Not that Bruce had either, which is probably why he'd let it slip his mind. They reached the next cart and a young woman with large sunglasses leant against it. Bruce squinted at the lanyard she had around her neck with an odd badge on the end as a nametag, all the counselors had variations of brightly colored and often glitter coated badges on lanyards. Each as unique as the names on them. Hers had popsicle sticks layered to make a large X and playing cards glued on top so that their back's made a place to write. "Gambit" had been scrawled in looping white paint. With red glitter. Bruce really hoped they weren't going to force him to make a glitter nametag.

"Are you living in Pine Ridge?" She asked, pushing off the cart to stand and raising her clipboard.

"Yes," Bruce said simply.

Gambit nodded. "You can toss your stuff on. What's your name?"

"Bruce. Bruce Wayne."

"Ok, double-o-seven," she smirked, checking off something on her clipboard. "I'm Gambit, head girls counselor for Pine Ridge. But just cause I'm not the one doing bed checks on you doesn't mean I'm not still in charge," she teased. Bruce was fairly certain he heard Alfred snicker. "Anyway, you'll be seeing a lot of me over the next month even though we don't share a latrine. You a first time camper?"

"Yes."

"Well then, welcome Bruce, Bruce Wayne!"

Alfred definitely snickered at that.

"Um, thanks."

She grinned and stuck her pen back behind her ear. "I'll watch your stuff until the grounds guys come and hook the cart up to the ATV to take it up to the cabins. Lucky us, we're on the hill. Nice site, one of my personal favorites actually, but you'll be getting your steps in while you're here. Whole summer or no?"

"Um, just the month." Bruce was starting to get a little overwhelmed in the face of her relentless positivity.

"Rad. Well, I hope you enjoy it! You're gonna want to follow the gravel road trail and head to the health center. I'll see you at dinner."

Bruce nodded and began to walk on, Alfred a step behind him. Once they were out of earshot, Bruce hung back slightly so that they walked next to each other and turned to Alfred. "Do you think everyone's going to be like that?"

"Well Master Bruce, I don't think that children's summer camp counselor is a position that attracts introverts," Alfred replied dryly.

Bruce glared.

"Which isn't to say, however, that every person here would be so enthusiastic."

"Hmm." Bruce didn't say anything else and they made their way to the two-story farmhouse that had a sign hanging from the porch proclaiming it the "Health Center" in silence.

A large group of people were spread out in the grass in front of the porch around a series of low, backless wooden benches. Bruce slowed as they approached, lingering on the gravel. Alfred gripped his shoulder once before gently pushing Bruce forward to step into the grass. Alfred was still a head taller than him, but Bruce was catching up and he couldn't wait for the day he could glare at the man without craning his neck. Alfred looked the picture of cool indifference and collected innocence.

"Excuse me," Alfred called, striding forward and fully expecting Bruce to follow. Which he did, but in silent protest. "Is there a queue?"

"Not really," the teenaged boy Alfred had asked shrugged. "Just give your paperwork to nurse Doc, then pick a spot on a bench and we play monkey."

"Monkey?" Bruce tried to raise an incredulous eyebrow. It was a work in progress.

The older boy's face split into a wide grin. "Yeah! You know," and here he began to howl and jump, scratching at his head in imitation of a monkey.

"Ohmystars, Apollo you're ridiculous!" Another teenager said, her silver painted crescent moon nametag read "Artemis" and the two did look like they could be siblings if not twins. "Theater kids." She rolled her eyes derisively.

Apollo stopped abruptly. "Arty, you're a theater kid."

"Tech kid. There's a difference," she snapped with practiced ease.

"She is correct," Alfred added sagely. Bruce's forehead met his palm as he hung his head.

"Thank you!" Artemis preened. "C'mon, I'll take ya in to Doc." She gestured at them to follow as she turned and headed onto the porch. Having no real other option, Bruce glanced at Alfred before following. Artemis had waited for them, holding open the screen door before shouldering open the second door and leading them into a large room with worn wooden floors and a table with a trio of adults sitting behind it. Some other children and parents stood in front of them and spoke with the adults at the table. Artemis winked and wiggled her fingers in a wave before turning to head back outside. But she stopped short and came to stand next to them again. "Actually, they don't need me out there right now and I'd much rather soak up the AC with you."

Bruce nodded. It was cold in here, especially compared to the muggy afternoon it was shaping up to be. And those polo shirts didn't exactly look comfortable. Neither did the crisp button up and khakis Alfred wore, but Bruce could count on one hands the number of times he'd seen Alfred in shorts or a t-shirt. The group in front of them shifted and Artemis lead them to the table. The burly woman on the end glanced up at them and smiled. Unlike the counselors, her nametag was a pin though she, and the other two adults at the table, still wore the light blue polo shirt. And her nametag also had sequins spelling out "Doc."

"Hey there, you have your paperwork?" she said by way of greeting.

Alfred produced a carefully paperclipped stack from somewhere. Bruce honestly had no clue where. Sometimes Alfred liked to do things like that just to puzzle him. Often times. Bruce was certain he did it routinely just for fun and Bruce's annoyance.

Doc took the stack and looked it over before leaning over to file it in a plastic tub and marking this off on a couple different clipboards. "Alright," she said finally, "you're officially checked in, Mr. Wayne. You still need to be checked over before we can let you run wild. But you're checked in. Welcome to Camp." She smiled broadly and held out a hand, Bruce shook it and managed a small smile in return.

Artemis led them back outside and instructed Bruce to sit, take off his shoes and socks, and wait for Apollo cause she didn't "do feet." Alfred chuckled as Bruce sat, his nose wrinkled, and Artemis took gloved hands and a comb through his hair. Apollo eventually reappeared as she declared him lice free and he poked at and spread Bruce's toes before proclaiming him "good to go!"

As Bruce pulled his socks and sneakers back on -- Alfred refused to buy him hiking boots because they wouldn't be broken in in time and apparently if Bruce was going to be miserable it was going to be his own conscious choice and not due to poor footwear decisions -- Alfred chatted with Apollo about a production of Midsummer that the counselor had done in fall. Finally, Bruce was standing up and slipping his backpack on again.

"Well, I'll let you say bye to your dad and then we'll go find your group," Apollo grinned.

"He's not-" Bruce started but the older boy had already walked away and started talking to one of the other counselors. "Hmph."

Alfred raised a single eyebrow -- Bruce wished he'd just teach him how to do that already -- and gave him a sly smile. "Well Master Bruce."

"Alfred."

They both stood there staring at each other. Finally, Bruce caved and stepped forward to wrap his arms around Alfred. "Bye Alfred," he muttered.

Returning the hug, Alfred replied. "I shall be back at the end of the month. I do sincerely hope that you enjoy yourself, Master Bruce. And I expect letters at least once a week. You should have more than enough stamps for that and if not you have credit at the camp store."

Bruce snorted at that before pulling away. "Thanks, Alfred."

Alfred smiled. "Of course, Master Bruce."

Apollo reappeared then and led Bruce to the edge of the trees and a path there. Bruce looked back once to see Alfred still standing by the benches, waving. Bruce waved back before turning to walk into the woods.

Oliver tapped his fingers restlessly on the formica topped table. The other kids all seemed to know each other and once the counselor escorting them to the dining hall left they immediately headed off to meet their friends. Not that he minded, Oliver was used to being alone and could function on his own just fine thanks. But all of these kids would be living with him for the next month at the least. They could at the very least come over and ask him who he was. But apparently, Pine Ridge was the largest unit at camp and so his age group was the biggest if they were staying there. And already there were at least twenty other kids who were all preoccupied and not noticing the blonde kid with a bad haircut.

Tugging at his recently shorn hair, Oliver frowned. He'd been trying to grow it out and it was almost to his shoulders when this morning his mother took him to the barber before putting him on the plane and shipping him off. Supposedly, she thought he'd be too hot with all that hair. Oliver just thought it was a convenient excuse. Oliver respected the trick even if he didn't like it. Especially because he didn't like the end result. His ears were still slightly too big and the cut just emphasized that. No girl would want to go out with a guy with satellite dishes attached to his head. Not that any girl seemed to even want to talk to him right now. Not that anyone at all wanted to talk to him. Maybe if he'd stop glaring at the table? But Oliver didn't really want to be here to begin with.

One of the dinning hall doors opened again and Oliver turned to look. The dorky guy who'd walked Oliver over, and only a dork would name themselves Apollo, and a new kid stood next to him. All dark hair and pale skin that Oliver bet was going to be looking like a lobster by the end of the week. He lingered in the doorway as Apollo said something and turned to leave, scanning the space in front of him. One of the other counselors walked over to meet him, he'd said his name was Sherlock and he was the head boys and Oliver secretly respected him for having the guts to name himself after the world's greatest detective. Sherlock was obviously introducing himself to the boy and Oliver was trying to figure out why the kid looked so dang familiar as his gaze landed on Oliver. And stuck.

That's when it hit him. That kid was Bruce Wayne. His parents talked about him all the time. Mostly, wondering what he would do with Wayne Enterprises once he turned eighteen and could take over and what that would mean for Queen Industries' contracts. Oliver had ever only met the kid once. Right after his parents had died and the whole Queen family had flown out to Gotham to "express their condolences" at the Wayne Foundation's Annual Holiday Party. It wasn't until a couple years later that Oliver realized how awkward the whole thing had been. But that was definitely the same kid, older now but his eyes no less haunted. Oliver blinked and turned away. Bruce Wayne was one kid he'd be happy to leave him alone.

Oliver never did have good luck.

"Oliver Queen?" The kid had come up behind him and without asking, walked around to sit on the bench across from him.

"Yeah?" Oliver winced as his voice cracked at the end. Stupid fraggin luck what the frickety heck stupid stupid puberty.

"I remember you." The kid still hadn't taken off his backpack. They were inside and it's not like someone was gonna steal it. Oliver's own sat on the bench next to him and he barely had anything in it anyway.

"Yeah?" This time his voice didn't crack. Small victory.

"I'm Bruce Wayne."

"Yeah."

The kid's brow crumbled in annoyance and he frowned. "Do you ever say anything else."

Oliver gave his cheekiest grin, oh this was too good. There had never been a more perfect set up. "No."

Impossibly, the kid's look got darker.

Oliver sat and smiled back. The seconds stretch out and Oliver just knew they were each waiting for the other to crack. Bruce continued to glare. Oliver continued to smile.

Finally, his cheeks started to hurt and Oliver took the loss. He was kinda starting to feel like an idiot anyway. "So, this your first summer?"

Bruce relaxed his glare but he still frowned. "I'm just here for a month."

"Didn't answer the question, Brucie."

The frown deepened. "Yes."

Oliver nodded. "Mine too," he admitted. Bruce finally seemed to relax.

"I'm... not sure what we're supposed to do," Bruce admitted, though it looked like struggled to.

Oliver let some of his bravado fall. "Yeah, neither do I. I think we're supposed to have fun, whatever that means."

Bruce's mouth twitched in the direction of a smirk. Oliver took it as a small victory.

"Hi!" A high voice warbled behind Oliver and he turned in surprise.

"Zee?" Bruce sounded just as shocked, though he apparently knew the girl that had just yelled in Oliver's ear. She settled heavily on the bench next to him and Oliver turned to look at her. Long black hair pulled up in a ponytail, bright pink shirt and darker pink shorts, light-up sneakers. She looked younger than him too. Which was confirmed when Bruce said "Aren't you too young to be in this unit?"

The girl rolled her eyes. "I turn eleven in July and I'm here for the summer so."

"That didn't answer the question," Bruce pointed out.

"And the unit is twelve to thirteen," Oliver added, finally recovering from his shock at her sudden appearance.

Pushing out her breath in annoyance, the girl flounced to her feet. "So, I may have heard that you were here and in the dinning hall and convinced my buddy to take a detour on the way to the latrine." She wiggled her arm in the direction of another girl shifting awkwardly by the side door. "We have to sit with our groups at dinner tonight but find me at breakfast tomorrow," she said it like an order and then ran off towards her friend and together they left.

"Alfred," Bruce muttered like a curse.

"Her name's Alfred?" Oliver felt like strange names were just a part of camp life but still.

"Her name's Zatanna." Oh, that was even weirder. "Alfred's my butler."

"Right," Oliver nodded like he understood. He absolutely did not. And Bruce did not seem like he would be explaining.

The counselors finally rounded them all up and made them stand in a wide circle, saying that they were going to count off and play get to know you games since one game of like forty people could be fun but maybe was a bit ambitious for first thing. Bruce told Oliver to stay where he stood before wiggling away further down the circle so that there was three people between them. Four groups of ten or so made logical sense and even if Bruce didn't know if he liked Oliver, he at least kind of knew Oliver and would prefer being in a group with at least one person he knew. So Oliver would have to be that person.

They both wound up being number three and Bruce leaned forward slightly to look at Oliver and smirk. The other boy just blinked back at him.

By the time dinner and the opening campfire rolled around, Bruce had come to the conclusion that Oliver wasn't his friend, but he was certainly one of the more tolerable of the other campers. As soon as he'd introduced himself as Bruce Wayne he'd been all anyone else could focus on. Even the kids not from Gotham looked at him with wide eyes. It made Bruce sympathize with the lions at the Gotham Zoo a whole lot more than usual. But Oliver acted like he didn't care. Oliver acted like he didn't care about anything. Just joking and smirking. He gained a gaggle of admirers over the course of the afternoon despite how downright obnoxious Bruce thought he was, but he still didn't seem to care that Bruce was Bruce and that's really all that mattered.

Besides, they apparently were in the same cabin. It just made sense that they hung out together. And if Oliver got sick of Bruce or Bruce got sick of Oliver well lots of kids wanted to ask Bruce all sorts of questions and everyone else seemed to love Oliver.

Even still, they sat next to each other at meals when Zatanna and an everchanging roster of her friends would flock to Bruce. Zee sitting herself down next to him and chattering on about what she'd done in the few hours they were apart. Oliver looked bewildered by the interaction every time. Bruce just nodded along at the appropriate points and asked questions as the fancy struck him. Sometimes he'd ask her stupid questions, like if she was sure the horse she rode that morning couldn't fly so that she would laugh and say she hasn't "learned levitation yet, you dingus!" Oliver's face when that would happen always made Bruce grin.

These meals were the bright spots in Bruce's day. He was... not having a good time. They'd had a swim test first thing Monday morning and Bruce had stupidly forgotten to put on sunscreen, so between swimming laps in the lake while the lifeguards made notes and sitting on the beach he'd very quickly burnt to a crisp. And would have to deal with that for the foreseeable future. Then on Thursday during their hike, Oliver had been behind him and tripped, stumbling into Bruce and pushing them both off the trail. Right into a patch of poison oak. So now Bruce had sunburn and poison oak. To say he was in constant pain was putting it mildly.

Bruce wasn't making friends. He wasn't enjoying the great outdoors. He was just slowly suffering in silence. Especially after Oliver left the screen door open one night and mosquitos had gotten in to use Bruce as their very own all you can eat buffet. So now Bruce was sunburnt, covered in mosquito bites, and still had poison oak.

Doc was really the only bright spot in this hellhole. Her air conditioned domain of the Health Center was quite and comforting. With individual exam rooms that meant Bruce could be completely alone for at least a little while. Which Bruce desperately needed. Being around people all the time was exhausting. And Doc herself had a wry, dry sense of humor that Bruce appreciated and a calm demeanor when Bruce sat and complained about the fact it was all Oliver's fault everything itched twice over. She would just snicker and have Bruce put some slightly odd smelling pink cream on his skin. Then she'd tell him that maybe he should write home about it. Bruce would frown and say "I will."

Alfred didn't seem to care though based on the letters back Bruce received. Or possibly the man was making fun of him. Most likely both. The end of the month really could not come soon enough.

Frankly, Oliver had no dang clue why Bruce flippin Wayne decided they were friends. Ok, "friends" was a stretch. But still, the kid spent more time with Oliver than anyone else at camp. Maybe he'd hang out with that Zee girl if she weren't in the younger group, and she did come have meals with them and wander over during all camps, but he didn't even really bother to even attempt to talk to anyone else. Oliver at least tried. If only because he was fairly certain he'd singlehandedly end the Wayne family line if he only talked to Bruce. Besides, the other boys in their cabin weren't terrible. Sure they were a little stuck up and that Brad guy had about the same amount of brain cells as Oliver's old hamster, but they weren't awful people. Which couldn't be said about all their fellow campers. Bruce had pushed one boy off the end of the dock the one morning after he said his third sexist remark in an hour. Oliver had gladly covered for him on that one. Another kid kept picking on two of the girls and Oliver might have possibly sort of filled his bag with rocks and as many spiders as he could find when he wasn't looking. He thinks Bruce saw him do it, but he never said anything once the kid got tired of carrying it and opened his backpack then immediately started screaming.

Neither incident had necessarily endeared Bruce to Oliver though. Especially since the kid had somehow managed to tip their canoe while they were in the middle of the lake. So they both floated there buoyed by their life vests spluttering water and trying to right the stupid canoe while screaming at each other and kicking madly. In the cold lake. They never did manage to flip the boat and the counselors had to come with the little motorboat to fish them out of the water. They were still glaring at each other after Sherlock had taken them to get showered and fresh clothes. He let Bruce mess around with his nametag as he ran their wet, smelly stuff into the Health Center and throw it in the washer that was supposedly there. Oliver was still pissed though so he ripped the plastic magnifying glass out of the other boy's hand. Sherlock's name was just a label stuck onto the handle so you could still use it. Which Oliver immediately did in an attempt to burn Bruce's shoelaces.

Which is about when Sherlock came back. "Hey! Oliver! Cut that out! Seriously dude, what're you doing? And Bruce, you were just gonna let him light your shoes on fire?"

Bruce shrugged. "I have other pairs. And I did dump him in the lake."

Oliver handed the nametag back and nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, he's the one who thought he saw a frog and tipped the thing."

"A fish, not a frog."

"Whatever."

"And you gave me poison oak."

Oliver frowned and scratched at some of his own poison oak. "That was not intentional and I have it too."

Sherlock looked between them. "Right. You two are supposed to see Doc soon anyway, wanna go in now?" They both nod and that was the end of that. For then at least. That night Oliver got up to go use the latrine and forgot to close the screen door again. All five boys in the cabin wound up eaten alive and never mind the fact Oliver was just as itchy, Bruce acted as though he'd planned it just to mess with him.

Still didn't excuse the fact that the jerk got them lost and banned from the stables on the following Monday. Oliver liked the stables. He thought the horses were cool and they seemed to like him. He'd tried to schedule as much riding time as they'd let him after the initial group session. Bruce just so happened to have scheduled some on Monday morning too it would seem. And they both were the same ability level. Great. But they were doing a trail ride, going single file through the woods at the edge of camp, didn't leave a whole lot of room for talking and Oliver was more than ok with that. He wound up behind Bruce at the very back of the group and took it at a leisurely pace which Pancake didn't seem to mind. So long as Oliver stayed behind Bruce he just zoned out. Taking in the forest with its sounds and smells, the warm horse that swayed gently as she walked making him sway too. Oliver should've been paying more attention. Because Bruce decided to take his horse on a bit of an adventure. The two were wandering through the woods for an hour before Oliver realized that Bruce had hijacked a horse and gotten them lost. Another two before anyone found them. They'd completely missed lunch. And they were banned from horseback riding.

Not that Bruce cared, he was only here another two weeks.

Oliver had two whole months.

It's not like his father recognized he ever existed half the time, but his mom sending him off to the other side of the country was a bit much. He'd thought they had an understanding. Apparently not. And now he wouldn't even get to ride the horses.

Which Oliver naturally thought was overkill for himself but it was totally punishment for Pancake too. They had bonded. Not that the riding staff seemed to care when he tried to plead his case. Knox looked a little sympathetic at least. And she called after him when he'd turned to walk back over to Brad and maybe go play volleyball or something. "Oliver!" Knox said again and he paused. "I'll talk to Bambi and see about a probationary period or something. Maybe clean some stables or just make it a two week ban since you're here all summer. Kay?"

Oliver grinned. "Thanks." She returned the smile before turning to go back to mucking stalls and cleaning the tack.

Archery, Bruce decided, was the worst. It slapped his reddened and itchy skin even with the arm guard on. The smaller bows they had were too easy for him to pull and sent the arrows almost skittering at the target when he released. The bigger ones and the compound bows were too heavy a draw though and Bruce's twiggy thirteen year old arms just didn't have the strength. Oliver didn't seem to like it either. He seemed like the type of guy who had everything handed to him and most of the sports came naturally to him. Archery didn't. It clearly frustrated him that while he managed to hit the target he couldn't hit the center. Or even the yellow rings just outside it. He managed to pepper the blue ones every time. He could at least use the larger recurve bows at least. Which Bruce wouldn't admit to but was supremely jealous of.

"You just gotta practice, you'll get there!" Legolas reassured him. Bruce and Oliver both raised skeptical brows at that. Legolas had gotten his name because he was a crack shot. Hitting the bullseye just about every time. His encouragement wasn't as meaningful as he meant it. Especially when there was a rumor going around that the other counselors had dared him to shoot an arrow off of someone's head while blindfolded. And that he had managed it. "Though not today," he laughed after checking his watch, "we need to clean up for lunch."

The boys and other campers all turned their bows in and Legolas set them in the shed before returning and sending them to collect their arrows. By the time they were all cleaned up a couple other counselors had wandered out of the woods where they must've gone for a hike on their breaks and decided to head with them to lunch. A week and a half of camp had all the kids falling into a buddy line without even being told and Oliver fell in next to Bruce out of habit. Beaker made them do a headcount, checking each camper off on her list, and let Legolas lead them off toward the dining hall. He also started to lead them in some insipid song about a worm getting stuck in a straw. Legolas would shout a line and around Bruce all the other kids would eagerly shout it back. Even Oliver. Bruce would rather actually swallow a worm.

Inside the dining hall was the usual premeal chaos as counselors took their assigned tables and yelled across the room to each other. Kids swarmed around trying to find seats next to friends or at tables with specific counselors. Bruce scanned the space when a small arm covered in bright string bracelets -- and there hadn't been that many at breakfast, Bruce was certain -- shot up and waved towards him enthusiastically. "BRUCE!" Zatanna bellowed. He was fairly certain she'd pushed her magic into it because he could clearly hear it over everything else. That, or Zatanna was just disturbingly loud.

Bruce began walking to the table she was at and the two seats she appeared to be guarding with her life. Oliver followed and Bruce couldn't explain why. Well at least not beyond the fact that it was just what they did anymore.

"Hey kid," Oliver said by way of greeting. Zatanna preened and smiled. She was a ten-year-old queen and this table was her court. Just no one beyond the three of them knew that just yet.

"Hi Ollie. Oh! I want you guys to meet Hartley! He lives in the cabin two over from mine. He really likes music," Zatanna told them breathlessly, pointing at the small redhead next to her. Bruce and Oliver both sat down across from the two as more kids took the spots further down the table. Oliver waved at the boy while Bruce just nodded. "That's Oliver and that's Bruce, he's my best friend," Zatanna told Hartley and pointed at the two older boys.

Bruce frowned at Zatanna and was glad to see the boy looked skeptical when he glanced between Bruce and Zee. "Isn't he a little old to be your best friend?" he asked a little too loudly.

"Yes." Bruce said. "And we're not best friends."

Zee pouted. "Well until Oliver I was your only friend."

"We're not friends," Bruce and Oliver corrected her at the same time.

"Sure," she said with an eyeroll.

The poor boy she'd dragged into this looked so confused. "So, how old are you?" he finally dredged up the courage to ask.

"Thirteen," Oliver sounded smug. Bruce just nodded.

"Oh." Hartley seemed to shrink in on himself.

"How old are you?" Zee asked, genuinely curious.

"Eight." He was still a little too loud when he spoke, even though he seemed like he was shy.

Bruce raised an eyebrow. He'd been practicing and he knew it wasn't as smooth as Alfred's but Oliver provided infinite possibilities to practice and it was still leaps and bounds better than a week ago. "Aren't you in the nine to eleven group?" he asked Zatanna.

"Yeah," she frowned. "Hartley, how'd you wind up in my group?"

He shrugged. "I skipped a grade and my mom kinda bullied them into putting me in by grade instead of age."

Oliver seemed to hum in understanding. Bruce just felt himself frown. Zatanna met his eye with a slight frown of her own. The moment passed though when one of the counselors started the quiet clap and everyone shut up and turned to pay attention.

Oliver was officially tired of camp by the last week of June. A racoon had gotten into their cabin the day before and went though literally all of their things. It didn't eat or destroy anything though, just wanted to make chaos by rubbing its tiny hands on everything apparently. Sherlock had to make another laundry run for them. Gambit had heard about it over the radio and claimed a golf cart just so she could come laugh at the mess before they managed to clean too much of it up, having been off on her break at the time. She left the cart for Sherlock before heading to her own cabin for the rest of her break, laughing the whole way. The other counselors in the unit made a fire for the boys while everyone else got ready for bed and they waited for their sheets and sleeping bags to be washed.

Unfortunately, Oliver had a whole two more months to go. He was officially less than pleased with his mother for this grand idea.

Luckily, Knox found him before the Final Campfire for those who were only there for the month. Taking long strides up the wide stone steps of the amphitheater to where he sat next to Bruce. Zatanna and her little friend Hartley on Bruce's other side. They all watched as the barn staffer made her way towards them, standing out in her jeans and tall muck boots while everyone else was wearing shorts. "Hey, Ollie!" she called as she approached, obviously not realizing that she already had everyone's full attention. "I just got back from the barn and I wanted to be the first to tell you that your ban has been lifted! You're allowed to come back starting Monday, since Bruce is leaving." Here she grimaced over at Bruce. "Sorry, but Bambi kind of decided you were the responsible party and Ollie just collateral damage. Very foolish collateral damage." She didn't bother to apologize for that one though as she turned to look back to him. "So Pancake will see you Monday? She's missed you."

Oliver nodded eagerly. "Yes. Absolutely. I'll talk to Sherlock about changing my schedule right after the campfire."

Knox nodded. "Sweet. Ok, I need to hit the showers. Bye all! I'll see you at breakfast tomorrow!"

They all said their goodbyes and Oliver couldn't stop smiling. Camp still sucked and the one person who made it interesting at least was leaving tomorrow, but at least Oliver's ban had been lifted. He could spend the rest of summer riding horses.

Bruce thought that he'd never been happier to see Alfred in his life. The man stood on the porch of the Health Center, talking with Doc when Artemis came to collect him from the dining hall where he'd been sitting on the steps, avoiding singing camp songs. The irony of Apollo taking him to the dining hall at the beginning of the month and Artemis leading him from it at the end was not lost on Bruce. Nor was it lost on Alfred by the sly grin he had when he saw who walked with Bruce. "Have a safe trip home!" Artemis said brightly before heading to Bugs, the camp director, and getting the name of the next camper she was to fetch.

"Well Bruce, I'm sorry that the circumstances weren't better but I'm glad I got to know you," she said and held out a hand that Bruce shook. "Maybe I'll see you next year? And if not, keep in touch. Mr. Pennyworth has my mailing address, maybe you can write me some of your famous letters."

Bruce smirked. "I will."

Doc laughed and the corners of Alfred's mouth twitched. "Shall we, Master Wayne?" he asked. "Your footlocker has already been loaded and you have officially been checked out."

Nodding, Bruce eagerly turned to go search the field for the car. He thought to look back once and wave to Doc, but then he was off and moving. He closed the door hard after he climbed in. Alfred started the car but didn't shift into gear. They just sat there in silence as the vents slowly began to push out cold air.

Finally, Alfred asked what he wanted to. "How was camp?"

"Never again, Alfred. Never. Again."

"That bad?"

"Didn't you get my letters?"

Alfred finally pulled out of the field and started down the long drive towards the road. "I did. I had just assumed that you were exaggerating as is your penchant."

Bruce glared at him. "You were talking to Doc."

"And I realized that you were not exaggerating."

"Never. Again."

"Yes, Master Bruce."

#dc comics #bruce wayne #oliver queen #alfred pennyworth #zatanna zatara #fanfiction #fanfic #my fic #own writing #writing #annataz #yes alfred

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palimpsessed · 3 years

Text

So @captain-aralias did one of these and invited other writers to do the same. And I wasn't really going to because it feels a bit late now and also I've done quite a few other year in review posts for 2020. But then I got to thinking that it would be really nice to have one of these for each year to look back on and compare, which convinced me. So, here we go!

If you’re a writer, I’d also encourage you to steal this. Tag me on your post so I can see your thoughts! 🥰

List of Complete Fics for 2020 1. At the Top of a Tower, With You- General, 900 words 2. Use Your Words- Teen, 16k 3. A Man of Letters, or Five Times Baz Retreats and the One Time He Doesn’t- Teen, 54k 4. To the Manor Borne- Teen, 43k

Total: 4 fics, 113k words

Every one of these fics was written for an event, which, realistically, is the only reason they got finished. I have so many ideas I'm working on all at once, and I came into fandom with a focus on making art, so to actually find the motivation to sit down and write/finish/post a fic was entirely deadline based. And it's a technique I'm sure I will also employ in 2021.

Best/Worst Title?

Well, I've mentioned a few times before that I usually have a title before I have much in the way of a fic concept. I don't really dislike any of the my titles, because they all did exactly what I needed them to do, which was help me focus on what I wanted to accomplish in the fic. Comparatively speaking, though, I can answer this.

Best: Use Your Words - succinct, idiomatic, a book quote/motif that also has the potential to be a spell, does what it says on the tin, is probably what all of us are constantly yelling at Baz and Simon to do throughout the books and the fic itself

(Honorable mention to A Man of Letters because that title forms a perfect heart shape when viewed on mobile on AO3. ❤️)

Worst: At the Top of a Tower, With You - this is also a quote and it fits the fic perfectly, but it is a bit of a mouthful and it has a comma in the middle of it, which, while I love commas, feels a bit off-putting in terms of a title - also, it's always kind of bothered me that it's a Baz WS quote used for a CO-era Lucy POV

Best/worst summary?

Again, I don't really dislike any of my summaries.

Best:

To the Manor Borne: The gang decides to spend Christmas together at Pitch Manor. Romance, hijinks, and holiday cheer ensue.

Anything that lets me use the word hijinks is always good! - it's short and sweet - it does a fair job of setting up the premise for the fic and giving highlights, without giving anything away

Worst: A Man of Letters

I'm not going to include this one because it's so long, I had to cut down the version I posted on tumblr to fit in the AO3 field, which is really why I rank it below my others - it effectively sets up the world of Simon and Baz in Regency England prior to where the story starts, but it is prohibitively long - and it's set up, not summary, so it also loses points for not doing what it purports to do - I could have said exactly what this fic was in one sentence: "Simon and Baz meet at several Regency-appropriate venues over the course of a London season and reflect on their acquaintance in letters", but instead I did the full book jacket version because it was more interesting to me.

Best/Worst First Line?

Oh, this is interesting. I can honestly say that I have no idea where this will go. Going to pull up my docs and find out! Okay, since I only have four fics to consider, and I'm feeling split, I'm going to do two for each. I feel good about my words, but I will say that half of my first lines actually provide information, and the other half are incomplete thoughts. Those were stylistic decisions I made, but when taken alone, it does somewhat limit the effectivness of a sentence when it can't stand without the rest of the paragraph. Perhaps that decision will lure readers in for more?

Best:

In the end, we wind up at Pitch Manor. (To the Manor Borne)

I know that you won't be surprised when I tell you that I do not like writing letters. (A Man of Letters)

Kind of interesting that these both contain key words from the titles 🤔

Worst:

I'm not sure how I'm supposed to do this. (Use Your Words)

I love how the title seems to be answering Baz's question when the two are put together like this 😂

Strange that it should end here, where it all started. (At the Top of a Tower, With You)

The title also seems to complete the first line in this one, too. I'm learning about my writing as this goes on, so that's cool!

Best/Worst Last Line?

Hmm. Okay, again, no idea. Also, a little leery of including last lines for anyone who hasn't read the fics they're from yet. (Tho I guess it's unlikely those people would be reading this😆) But let's see what we've got.

Use Your Words and A Man of Letters have very similar final lines, and both are somewhat spoilery.

Best: The ending of A Man of Letters felt risky to me, in the way that it is formatted and changes tone from the rest of the story. It was something that happened as I wrote it and I loved it. I had no idea if readers would like it, if they would feel like it worked as an ending, but I felt strongly enough about it to let the entire fic hinge on that and I think it really paid off. So, without giving you the actual last line, which is only one word, I'm going to say that one is my best ending.

Worst:

To the Manor Borne: "Carry on, Simon."

It's not bad, it's just not mine.

Looking back, did you write more fics than you thought you would this year, fewer than you thought, or about what you predicted?

I did not set out to write any fics in 2020. I was supposed to be taking a break from writing. I've been an aspiring novelist for half my life now, and have been going through major ups and downs with my writing. I decided I needed to re-evaluate and figure out if writing was something that was even going to be able to make me happy anymore. The answer is: YES! Just…not original fiction. At the moment. I'm happiest when I can write for the sake of writing and not have to DO something with that writing. Which is why discovering fan fiction was AMAZING!!!! 🥰🥰🥰

To actually answer the question, yes, I wrote more than I thought I would. I also wrote exactly as much as I thought I would, simply because these were all things I signed up for (with the exception of my Countdown fic, but I committed to it as if it were something that required a sign up).

I have a lot more ideas for 2021, but I don't know how many of them will come to fruition. I'm not putting pressure on myself to have to do anything beyond what I sign up for again, because it did work out so well for me starting off.

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted last year?

I mean, the pairing and the fandom were in no way a surprise. 😆 They're my only ones, so those were both a given. The genre is also not surprising.

What's your favorite story this year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest?

A Man of Letters, without any hesitation. I adore it so much. It's the kind of fic I know I will unabashedly sit down to read over and over, even if I'm the one who wrote it. I had one reader to please and it was ME. By far, my most self-indulgent fic.

Okay, NOW your most popular story?

That depends on the metric.

To the Manor Borne leads in Comments (107), Kudos (153), and Hits (1992), and Use Your Words leads in Bookmarks (26).

But since To the Manor Borne is top in 3 out of 4 metrics, I'll say that one.

Story most upderappreciated by the universe?

I mean, the least popular by a wide margin is At the Top of a Tower, With You, but I don't know if I'd call it underappreciated. It's short, it's angsty, it's got a very unusual style, it's Lucy POV, it's the first fic I wrote and posted. I didn't really go into it with high performance expectations. I'm proud of it, I just didn't expect it to be popular. It would be nice if more people read it, but I'm not broken up over it.

Story that could have been better?

I'm not even going to touch this one. Everything can always be improved upon, but if I go down that route, nothing will ever be done. This is one of the things I have come to appreciate about traditional art versus digital. With traditional, there is only so much you can do before something is permanent and you have to live with it. It's an exercise in letting go and acceptance. Digital is flashier and more flexible, but I could (and have) spend months on a single piece and never feel satisfied, never stop tweaking. I think that's also the reason I started to hate my novels.

Sexiest story?

Based purely on overall vibes, I find the understated tension of the Regency the most appealing, so I'm going to say A Man of Letters. I didn't actually stray into sex territory in any of my fics (though Simon and Baz have had sex by the time To the Manor Borne starts, and refer to it, and probably do it "offscreen"), but A Man of Letters is the one that feels sexiest to me. Lots of thirsting!Baz and feral!Simon and sensual hand touching (how risqué!) - and YEARNING. That, to me, is the sexiest vibe of all. So. Much. Yearning.

Saddest story?

At the Top of a Tower, With You - for this one, I tagged "angst without plot" and I stand by that. It's Lucy losing her connection to Simon at the end of CO and trying to find a way to reconcile herself to leaving him alone again. I gave it as much of a hopeful bent as I could, with the refrain of Baz's spoken "love" to cling to, but it's very sad.

Most fun?

To the Manor Borne - All of my fics have their fair share of angst, but this one also has some good, silly, holiday fluff thrown in. Since I wrote it for the Countdown, each chapter was based on a different prompt, which led to this one going in all sorts of directions no single fic probably ever should. Plus, it has the most Shepard, and Shepard always makes things more fun.

Story with the single sweetest moment?

Oh my god. I don't know. No, never mind. I do. It's To the Manor Borne, but it's split between the two gift giving scenes, the Constellations and Secret Santa/Gift Giving prompts. These were private moments between Simon and Baz, sharing themselves with each other, being vulnerable, and communicating. It's the gifts they give each other, yes, but it's more so the reasons they chose those gifts, and how they show part of themselves and share their love for each other, through those gifts, that had me in tears writing those two scenes. I'm super proud of them.

Hardest story to write?

Use Your Words - it was written for an exchange and that made it really hard to write it knowing there was this pressure of making my gift-ee happy with the fic. I'm proud of it, and they really liked it, but the anxiety was too much for me.

Easiest/most fun story to write?

A Man of Letters - if there is a fic better suited to me as a writer, I haven't met it. I started writing after reading Pride and Prejudice in high school, so I started out writing Regency and I spent years and years and years of my life obsessed. When I transferred into college, an administrator I had never met before heard my name during orientation and said, "Oh, you're the Austen scholar." (It is a small, private college, and I was a transfer, so the pool of students was even smaller. But still. Many years later, I'm clearly not over it.) I also did my senior thesis on an epistolary novel (Frances Burney’s Evelina), and my English Lit emphasis was for that time period. So, I felt like I had been preparing for this fic my entire adult life. 😂

Did any stories shift your perceptions of the characters?

I don't think so. I tend to let my writing be dictated by the characters, so I'm always following their lead. Sometimes they'll do or say something that surprises me and takes me down a route I didn't necessarily foresee, but I don't think there was ever a point where one of them did something that made me rethink who they are as a character.

Most overdue story?

I will say A Man of Letters, since that one felt like a culmination of my seventeen-year-old self's wildest writing dreams. But I should probably say the Scooby Doo AU I still haven't managed to finish, because that one has been a WIP since I joined the fandom. Oops. (I'm hoping when I look over this in a year, I can feel smug that it's finally done.)

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them?

Writing at all was a risk for me! And writing fan fic for the very first time! Writing an entire fic told only through letters. And then ending it in a completely different style from the rest of the fic. Doing a multi-chaptered fic for the Countdown, using a different prompt for each chapter, and publishing a chapter every single day for thirty days (with the exception of two days that had art). Signing up for fandom events in the first place!

What I learned from taking risks in my writing is the same thing I learned when I took risks in my art this year. I have a much better appreciation for what I've done when I push myself, I feel better about the end product, and I like it longer. I think it's really good for me to challenge myself creatively.

This year's theme and the story that demonstrates it most?

Oh boy. Um. Therapy! Both Use Your Words and To the Manor Borne had their big HEA moments built around sending Simon and Baz to therapy. I don't think that's likely to change for future fics, either. I feel like therapy as the theme for 2020 seems very fitting. (Also, I think I keep sending the boys to therapy because I'm trying to get myself there…)

What are your fic writing goals for next year?

Just to write what I want to write, have fun, not put any pressure on myself, and to take risks in my writing and my art because it will help me to grow.

#fan fic year in review #my fic #at the top of a tower with you #use your words #a man of letters #to the manor borne

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rosemac · 7 years

Note

Dennis comes home from North Dakota after a fight with Mandy - Mac picks him up from the airport and Dennis doesn't want to talk about it - they end up holding hands but They Don't Speak Of It after that

Elbows perched on the bar’s dirty countertop, Mac squints at the text gleaming from his phone. He blinks twice and then reads the words again, just to be sure.

“Goddamnit, Charlie,” Dee curses from behind the bar, one hand grasping a cloudy drink that looks as if it’d been infected with tapeworm. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop putting spaghetti in the soda gun lines?”

Mac glances up from his phone to see Charlie standing beside her, one hand on his hip. “Oh, look who’s too good for a little pasta in their mixed drink,“ he mocks.

“I think it’s a great idea, Charlie,” Frank voices from where he sits to Mac’s right. “Broads dig spaghetti.”

Dee narrows her eyes, mouth parted in disbelief. “Not in their alcohol, they don’t!”

“You’re telling me you wouldn’t try a spaghetti and tonic?” Charlie presses. “Spaghetti cranberry? A Mojhetti? Really, Dee?”

“Uh, yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. Those sound disgusting.”

Charlie purses his lips, head shaking in solemn disappointment. “You have no goddamn taste.”

Dee rolls her eyes as she pulls out a strand of spaghetti from the gun head and flicks it onto the countertop. Then she pauses, cocking her head in contemplation. “Well, I guess it would be pretty funny if you put some in a Highball and called it a Meatball instead,” she chuckles with a smirk.

Charlie and Frank both frown, squinting in confusion.

“That sounds like shit, Deandra.”

“Yeah that doesn’t even make sense.”

“Oh come on,” Dee whines, “How is my idea any worse than yours?”

Charlie sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Fine. Mac—what do you think?”

Mac blinks, heart racing. His eyes witnessed the exchange take place, but his mind’s been elsewhere. “Dennis is coming back.”

A familiar look of pity settles over Charlie’s face. “Hey, buddy…”

“Yeah,” Dee says with a sad cringe, “gross drinks are the last thing that’ll make Dennis come back, I can guarantee you that.”

“He’s a dick,” Frank adds, now chewing the piece spaghetti Dee left on the countertop.

Mac shakes his head. “No, I mean he’s coming back. He just texted me. Something happened with Mandy. He’s taking a flight that gets him back into Philly tomorrow night.”

The group pauses, lips parted and eyes wide.

Charlie blinks. “Like, for good?”

“Yeah,” Mac breathes. “Sounds like it.”

“That bitch, he didn’t even tell me he was coming back. I’m his sister!” Dee exclaims.

Frank shrugs. “He’s a dick.”

“Like, does he have to come back?” Charlie says. “Because I was kind of enjoying it without him around all the time—”

“Yeah it was pretty nice—”

“Less rapey—”

“Okay, okay, shut up!” Mac yells through the commotion. The gang goes silent. Mac exhales.

“Some things have been better without Dennis around, I’ll admit,” he begins, “but a lot has been worse. Like, we haven’t been able to get a scheme off the ground in weeks. The new arbitration system clearly isn’t working because everything keeps getting caught up in process. Our Yelp reviews are terrible because no one’s yelling at us to do our jobs, so customers aren’t showing up to the bar. I mean, look around—there’s literally no one in here but us!”

The gang glances across the room, which is completely empty.

“We’ve deluded ourselves into believing our lives are better without Dennis controlling us,” Mac continues, now impassioned, “but in reality we’ve been meandering around aimlessly without him, searching for any semblance of meaning in our lives because the only directive we’ve known left us. I get it, I get it, I know you’re tempted to shrug off Dennis when he returns, or scream at him for hurting us like he did, just leaving so suddenly after treating you like shit even though you put your entire heart and soul into your relationship with him. And now you go out and force yourself to make fleeting connections with others, and even though it feels good and can be pretty awesome at times, it’s not the same because it’s not Dennis. Things aren’t better, don’t you see? Dennis belongs with us. And I can tell this time apart has been difficult for him too. So maybe we should give him a second chance. At the very least we should greet him at the airport after not seeing him for so long.”

Dee narrows her eyes. “Mac, Dennis has been gone for three weeks.”

“Well, yeah, but it’s felt like forever. As a gay man I’m more in tune with my emotions, so I feel things much more strongly. Especially about Dennis, since I know him so well.”

“Oh god, this is awkward,” Dee breathes, focusing her attention back to the spaghetti-clogged soda gun.

Mac furrows his brows. “What?”

No one speaks for a few moments, eyes flicking around the room but never on Mac.

“What?” he asks again, this time louder.

“Dude, well,” Charlie starts. He reaches behind his neck to give it an awkward scratch. “This just kind of sounds like it’s about you being in love with Dennis.”

Mac’s eyes go wide, face suddenly a deep shade of red. He feels his entire body heat with embarrassment. “No no no, that’s not it. As a gay man—”

“As a gay man you want to put your junk in Dennis,” Frank interrupts. “We get it, nothin’ to be ashamed of. Except I can’t figure out for the life of me why you chose him.”

Dee sighs, placing the gun on the counter. “Yeah Mac, isn’t there another guy you can be obsessively in love with aside from my dickhead brother? It’d be so nice if we could just tell him to fuck off and never come back.”

“I’m—you guys take that back! I’m not in love with Dennis! I don’t want to put my junk anywhere near him!”

“Didn’t you tell me you were havin’ erotic nightmares about him shimmying and kissing all over you and shit? That sounds a lot like you wanting to put your junk inside him,” Frank says.

“And we all witnessed you giving him that gift on Valentine’s,” Dee adds.

Charlie nods. “Yeah that was the gayest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Mac swallows, chest heaving. He can’t handle this right now. He hasn’t even been able to come to terms with his feelings for Dennis himself, there’s no way he’s talking about this with them—

“Eh, it started way before that though,” Frank says to Dee, “Mac was always watchin’ him have sex—”

“Yeah and he always talked about Dennis’ dick,” Charlie adds.

Dee snorts. “I knew it the minute Mac agreed to live with Dennis. No one would succumb to that unless they were in love.”

Mac raises his hands. “Uh, I’m right here!”

Charlie waves, shushing him. “We’re talking.”

“Oh my god,” Mac sighs. He slides off the barstool and heads for the door.

“Hey, where you goin’?” Frank calls.

Mac turns, rolling his eyes. “I don’t know, home to fix up the apartment before Dennis comes back? His flight gets in at eleven tomorrow night. I’ll be there to pick him up. If you want to be there too, then you can show up at the airport then.”

No one else shows up at the airport.

Instead, Mac waits alone on a bench in Arrivals. The terminal is fairly empty given the time; only a few straggling travelers head toward the exit with rolling suitcases in tow. He glances at the status screen across from him and finds Dennis’ flight again.

Landed.

Knee bouncing, Mac checks his phone for what feels like the thousandth time that night. It’s 11:20 and he still hasn’t heard anything from Dennis. He wonders if his friend got into a jam somewhere, or if he had an accident on the plane, or if he’s sick in the bathroom—the possibilities were endless. With a shaky exhale Mac leans back against the bench, rubbing one hand over his face.

After he drops his hand to his lap, Mac watches with interest as more travelers begin to trickle from the gate doors. A middle aged woman carrying a toy poodle, a businessman fervently texting, a family of four with oversized carry-ons, a yawning college student—

Dennis.

Air empties Mac’s lungs. He exhales, heart pounding, then stands upright. The movement catches Dennis’ attention and he looks Mac’s way, noticing the other man’s presence. Their eyes meet.

Dennis’ expression softens—a rare sight, and it makes Mac’s stomach flip inside out—but after several seconds he diverts his glance away. He walks across the room, avoiding the other travelers around him, and returns his gaze to Mac as he slows to a stop.

Flooding emotions root Mac in position; he’s frozen, overwhelmed by Dennis’ form a foot before him. He looks terrible, Mac will admit: his button down is wrinkled and bent off kilter by the weight of his shoulder bag, his curls have begun to unwind from their quaff, and dark circles purple beneath his eyes. Part of him wants to act standoffish and rude as payback, but a stronger part of him wants completely the opposite. He’s tempted to reach across the space between them and press their lips together, pulling his tired body into his arms. The thought reminds him of yesterday’s discussion and his body immediately heats with embarrassment.

Mac’s silence is awkward now and Dennis is staring at him like he’s expecting something—hoping something, almost—so he blurts the first thing that comes to mind. “How was the flight, man?”

Dennis blinks. He shifts, adjusting the bag on his shoulder, and clears his throat. “It was fine.”

“I didn’t hear from you so I wasn’t sure if something happened—”

“Oh, well it took forever to get off the plane, and I had no service, so.”

“Ah.”

The awkward silence continues.

“Here, I’ll take that,” Mac offers, reaching out to touch the strap of Dennis’ bag.

“Wh—no I can—”

“Dude, I’m like much stronger than you, it’ll be easier for me to carry it to the car.”

Dennis purses his lips. “Alright.”

Mac slips the bag from Dennis’ shoulder, knuckles brushing against the warmth of his shirt. He hoists the heavy item onto his back and raises his brows. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Dennis breathes in response, eyes not quite meeting his friend’s.

The walk to the parking lot is just as tense: long silences, furtive glances, thick, unspoken tension that makes Mac’s skin feel like it’s on fire. When they reach the car and Mac digs into his pocket to retrieve the keys, Dennis pauses to inspect the unfamiliar BMW sedan. Once it’s unlocked, Mac places the bag in the trunk and then enters the driver’s seat. Dennis follows suit on the passenger side.

“Is this a rental or something?” he asks as he buckles his seatbelt.

Mac turns the keys in the ignition, revving the engine to life. “Nah, this is Dee’s new car. Frank bought it, of course. We got it after we—” He catches himself before he goes further and swallows.

“After what?”

Mac drops his hands from the steering wheel, turning to face Dennis as he exhales. “You see, there was an accident with your car.”

His friend’s brows rise slightly, face controlled. “What kind of accident?”

“Well, we sort of…blew it up…a little bit?”

“You blew it up?”

“Well like, emotions were high after you left and—”

Dennis sighs, eyes closed, and runs a hand through his hair. “You know what, it’s fine. I don’t care.”

“You don’t?”

“I’ll make Frank buy me another one,” Dennis murmurs as he turns away. His somber reserve is disquieting; Mac would have expected a modest display of anger at the very least. He’s half expecting his friend to turn around and start screaming, but he doesn’t. Instead he leans against the door and stares out the window with a forlorn expression.

“Yeah,” Mac says softly before putting the car in drive. “Good idea dude.”

Ten minutes of silence pass as they travel back into the city. Mac glances over at Dennis several times to check on him, and each time he’s unmoved, staring silently through the window. He knows Dennis has trouble displaying emotion at times, but this feels different.

Mac clears his throat. “Hey Dennis?” he asks.

His friend shifts in his seat but doesn’t look at Mac. “Hm,” he hums in response.

“I just…if you want to talk about what happened—”

“I don’t.”

Mac swallows, frowning as he flicks his eyes from Dennis’ profile back to the cars ahead. “Okay.”

Quiet blankets over the car once more. It’s dark save for the occasional headlight whizzing past, but the nearing city lights illuminate their features.

“I’m sorry,” Mac starts quietly, eyes on the road and one hand on the wheel. “For whatever happened, I mean. But I’m glad you’re here.”

They exit the highway in silence. When they approach the first intersection, the light turns red and Mac decelerates to a stop. The glow above sets the car in a warm haze.

Suddenly, Mac feels something warm brush against his right hand where it rests in the center console. He glances down, heart racing, and sees Dennis’ thumb caressing his skin. Mac’s lungs feel like steel as he slowly intertwines their fingers until their hands are clasped tight. He glances up—Dennis is looking at him now, gaze glassy.

Mac’s lips part in surprise, eyes flickering as they stare into Dennis’ own. His entire body pulses with warmth and in that moment he knows the gang’s accusations weren’t unfounded. He knows they’re right.

Dennis flicks his eyes away, looking ahead, and swallows. “Mac?” he asks.

Mac’s heart speeds in his chest. “Yeah Dennis?”

“The light is green.”

The spell breaks and Mac’s attention is diverted back to the road. The traffic light shines bright green into his eyes and the car behind them beeps impatiently.

“Oh,” Mac says, embarrassed as he switches his foot to the gas and starts driving. “Sorry.”

Dennis returns his gaze to the window, but he keeps his hand intertwined with Mac’s until they arrive home.

#macdennis #prompt #fic #this got long #i may put it on ao3 too #Anonymous

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neshatriumphs · 6 years

Text

Don't Make Me Over 35

*Just realizing that I hadn’t put up the last couple of chapters in this space, but since I’m trying to finish up my fics, gonna go ahead and add these on my tumblr. Thanks.*

Sam was strumming his guitar and singing, or humming, or lipping words. He had a few days off of work. He spent them trying to find something to do around the house. He found out that Jonesy's people did all of the stuff around the house… and that they hung all around the house… all the time. Did Unique take on their home as a studio to work from until getting a new one? He wondered as he looked at her, lying on her belly on the loveseat while Jonesy was on her back on the couch. They were discussing their contracts, filming schedules, travel arrangements, maternity leave… "And we have candidates in place for nanny services when you return. You just need to make a decision."

"Oh!" Sam finally interrupted, "Nanny services?" He repeated, eyes on Jonesy instead of Unique.

Unique answered, "Now, before you try to go off on some tangent about nannies not being a good resource or children need their mothers or wherever you're intending to go with that look of disdain, let me tell you – women who can't afford nannies oftentimes spend less time with their children than the women who can… and those women often get less done around the house. Mothers have a full time job with a nearly impossible workload. A nanny is simply an additional pair of hands so that a mother does not have to compromise her career or other responsibilities while she raises her children."

"Mrs. Baylock said she was an extra pair of hands," Sam said.

Jonesy furrowed her eyebrows and shook her head, "That's only frightening if your baby is the Antichrist." She noted Unique's confused face, "Omen reference."

"I don't want to know your obscure movie references," she told her.

"Obscure? Movie is a classic!" Sam muttered, plucking his guitar strings a little harder than before.

"You do love the classics, don't you?" Unique asked with a smile. Sam threw her a look and she shrugged. "It's not the old days anymore, Sam. Jonesy can actually have a highly functioning career AND be a great mother. Have you ever seen Beyonce? Of course you have. That child looks loved as hell. You don't understand what a nanny is and what she does is the problem."

"Unique is providing the nanny as a perk of my job, Sam. So, it won't cost us anything extra and like she said, I will be around the baby more than anybody else in the world," Jonesy told him, rubbing his hair, as she did. He leaned into her petting, though his face still wore a sour pout, so she continued to coax him. "Think of her time with the nanny like time with a babysitter or time with a family friend or even time in a classroom. Some people send their kids to daycare so they can work. Mine will be relatively close, sometimes even on site and her caregiver won't even have to tend to any other children."

"I don't really like the thought of daycare, either. I mean, at least until its time for her to go to school, she should be at home with her mother."

"Her mother won't be at home, but if you feel that strongly about it, there is a such thing as a stay home dad," Unique reminded him. Sam furrowed his eyebrows even more. "Oh, so you want somebody to stay with the baby – just not you. Alright. Anyway…" Unique rolled her eyes and sat up, to scoot closer to Jonesy with the information. "If Jonesy tells me that she doesn't want a nanny and she wants to be at home and simply on call for times that I need her, that is fine. But Jonesy told me and we have been arranging that she wants to work, full time. She wants to travel with me for the long haul. I don't want to do it without her, but I will if I have to."

Jonesy waved a hand, "No, you don't have to. Why would you have to? I have a free nanny." To Sam she said, "We discussed this. I mean, we discussed that I wasn't going to quit my job. Remember? We couldn't afford it and I didn't want to."

"But, we didn't discuss a nanny, though," Sam said. "With all of the things that have happened, I just… honestly don't trust anybody." He shook his head and shrugged. "I mean, I can work out things so that my schedule lines up with when you won't be around so that I can watch her."

"Then, we wouldn't see each other and she wouldn't see the both of us, at the same time. Sam…" She looked at Unique, "Can we talk tomorrow?"

"Of course, Hunny. I'll be here, as always." She collected her things and rushed out.

"It feels like you're planning out the baby's life without me, again." Sam set the guitar aside and got up to sit on the couch, by her. She sat up, too. "It's not about the time or the plan or the person… well – it kinda is that too, but… this is OUR baby. We've discussed this."

"That's not what this is, Sam. This is my career. I was working on the plan and trying to get everything figured out before coming to you, Chief. I wanted it to sound as appealing as humanly possible before bringing it up, because I knew that you wouldn't like it, but I also know that its going to be excellent for me and it will not disadvantage her, at all. Not in the least bit. I'm not hiring a nanny so that I can spend summers in Tahiti or something. I'm hiring a nanny so that I can run errands, cook, clean up, and do makeup without carting Babycakes in a pouch on my chest." She held her hands out, "I've been collecting instances of children raised with nannies who have better relationships with their mothers than children raised by their mothers without nannies. I mean, both of these things can work, I'm not saying that kids with nannies are better off, at all. But not getting one isn't really going to work for me."

He looked at her sad eyes and nodded his head. "You're right. And I believe you. I don't think you were trying to plan things without me. But, now that its on the table… I… What can you tell me that might help me feel more comfortable about Cakes being with some stranger?"

"Only that everyone is when they're little. Do you know how many people I trusted in my youth that didn't mean me any good? But, my mom and dad couldn't protect me from everything, all of the time. It's reality, as hard as it is. But, she will not be on a battlefield. She'll be nearby. I will see her. We will be in each other's company, but if Cakes cries while we're recording, I have someone who can step outside with her. If… I break out in a rash, I have somebody to make sure she's not exposed to it. My intention is that the nanny can literally have whatever life she wants, outside of my schedule for her. Within that scheduled time, if I finish Unique's makeup and want to take my daughter out for a sundae, I can. But if Unique has a bruised nose from falling over and I have to spend hours making her look like she'd never seen a bruise a day in her life, I have that opportunity, as well."

"The nanny sounds like she'd be doing my job, while I'm at work…" Sam said.

"But, she won't be. She'll be doing the jobs that we don't have enough bodies to do while we do what we can and have to with the bodies that we have. We're getting her now, so that she can meet the baby on site. So that she can become familiar with the woman who will be telling her how to help out with her child and so that you can size her up, yourself."

"Wait… there's gonna be a nanny before the baby even gets here?" He said, shaking his head.

"Yep. This will be like her pre-field training. Knowing the parents and what they like and need is an important part of being able to know what the child will want and need, while she's in her care. I wish that there was some kind of movie about a good mother who had a nanny. They totally exist and I'm totally going to be one."

"Well, maybe one day, they'll make a movie about you," Sam commented.

"There's not enough film in the world to cover my story… wait… does that mean that you're on board? Even without the presentation of my evidence?" She asked, with a wide grin.

"I trust you, Jones." He gave her a kiss on the lips. "I think you won me over with the I can size her up, myself." He nodded and Jonesy covered her face.

"This poor woman is not going to have a chance…" She mused.

"This is the kind of thing you need to have a damn competition and show for," he muttered, which made her giggle for a moment. Then, she stopped and thought for a moment, then pulled herself up and rushed off, with her cell phone. "Um… Jonesy?"

His arms were folded when Mercedes opened the door for the young lady. "Hi, Mercedes! It's so good to see you again! And this handsome man must be Sam," she said and held a hand out to shake his hand. He accepted it and she introduced herself. "My name is Bree. Thank you for your consideration in this competition." Two more women joined them, within a few moments and the cameraman from Unique's show came in to set up some cameras while they held a group interview.

Jonesy treated it very similar to how they had treated the auditions for the show, welcoming the women, "In this age of reality television, and in my quest to find the best nanny for me, we had this fun idea to make a little web show of the process. As you have all agreed on the application, we now have the cameras rolling. For the moment, our bedroom is off limits, but all of the other rooms have cameras and we'll be reviewing them, as well as watching you ladies during this time. It's only three weeks. I am due in one week, if things go as planned. Two of the weeks will have Babycakes on board, or should. I hope you all make the most of it."

Sam didn't have much to say. He was in complete support of the cameras and the scrutiny, for the purpose of finding someone trustworthy enough to look after their baby in a matter of weeks. Being engaged to an online sensation meant that sometimes, life was looked at very closely, anyway, but looking at other people closely for this was something he could agree to.

Ryvie Jones and Mary Evans were around. Any day now, Jonesy would go into labor. Renee Stobb took charge of things, as best as she could, mostly by going through all of Jonesy's already best laid plans and making her own schedule to reflect that. "Jonesy is ridiculously organized and everything has already been thought out. I feel that I need to be ready to place my life on hold and sync my world with hers if I really want this thing."

She shook her head and laughed, annoyed, "Bree spent the entire afternoon playing games with her little sister."

Bree and Ra were sitting on the floor and Bree told her, "Awww, yours looks better than mine! What's all of that? Right there?" She pointed to the finger painting.

"That's ice cream!" Ra cheered.

"Ice cream? I LOVE ICE CREAM!" Bree cheered. "Hey… I wonder if your mom and sister will let us get some. What do you think?" Ra smiled, excitedly and Bree took her hand. "Come on. This is how you ask, nicely, okay?" She asked Ryvie, "Mrs. Jones, if Maserati and I clean up our mess really good, will it be okay for me to buy us some ice cream?"

Ryvie stared at the girl for a bit, then nodded, "If you two clean up all of your mess, Miss Bree can go get you some ice cream and bring it back here. But, you have to help her out, like a big girl, okay?" Ryvie told her toddler, who rushed to follow the instructions while Bree wondered, "So, what kinda ice cream you want me to bring you?"

Bree smiled and told the camera, "I want to be the nanny. I love the ladies. I love their web shows. I loved the Diva Experience. Jonesy's makeup art. Unique's drag. I love all of this stuff. But, I also love hanging out with kids. This job, if I can get it will be someone that I admire in an industry that I adore paying me to do a thing that I love." She traced a circle with her finger, "Full circle win, if I can somehow get this."

The other woman, Mack, was Unique's former personal assistant. She said, "My job became less necessary after Miss Jones came into Unique's life. I still ran some errands and kept up with the studio maintenance - being sure that things were organized and clean and accepting deliveries and keeping up with inventory. But, I lost my job when we lost the studio, so this is going to be very helpful to me. I already have an established ongoing rapport with Miss Jones and I have experience being that extra pair of hands that they speak of…" She frowned, "I don't have much luck with babies, but that's what this training is for, right?"

Sam said, "It's… not training. This is your interview."

"Well, I mean, I can DO babies. I just haven't assisted in the helping with babies department yet. I'm a renaissance woman. I can multitask and I'm a quick learner…" She bit her lip. Sam already looked unimpressed.

He frowned at the camera while Mercedes simply laughed, "She is getting a kick out of this. Not one of these women are right for the job."

"They ALL have their skills," she said. "He's being unfair."

"Babycakes, when you watch this, know that it was your mama's doin,' that you ended up with whatever nanny you'll get stuck with." She laughed even harder, now.

Renee was reading up on doula training made easy while Mack was memorizing the game plan for when Jonesy went into labor. Sam looked at Bree, on her phone and asked, "What are you working on?"

She furrowed her eyebrows and answered, "I'm not working on anything. I'm playing Candy Crush."

"You're... Do you realize that you're in a process to try to get a job?" He asked.

"Of course," she said, stopping her game, "What would you like me to work on Mr. Evans?" She smiled brightly, awaiting instructions.

"I didn't have like anything in mind, particularly. But, the other two ladies are doing their thing," he informed her.

She glanced at them and nodded as she whispered, "They're a little behind. Unique announced that Jonesy would be looking for a nanny months ago! Renee was not familiar with Jonesy, at the time and Mack was familiar, but did not qualify for the job, therefore didn't make any attempts to learn any information. You know why I'm here, Mr. Evans? I am here, because the moment that announcement was made, I contacted the studio with my credentials as a long term neighborhood babysitter, my qualifications as a doula, my work experience in three births, to date and a few years of daycare services, from my own home... complete with references. Neither of these ladies want this job more than me and neither of them are more qualified. I will do whatever you ask me to, but in the meantime, if you've got nothing, I'm really obsessed with Candy Crush."

He folded his arms, "All of that was in your file?"

"I haven't seen my file, but I sure hope so," she said with a smile.

"You're like... 18..."

"You are so sweet and cute, Mr. Evans!" She said and wrinkled her nose, returning to her game.

He shuffled his way over to Jonesy and she was looking miserable and rubbing her belly. "You okay?"

"I'm crazy. This was a terrible idea. Why did I decide to do this?" She asked.

"You're impulsive," he answered honestly.

"I am so damn mad about that fact. I don't want these people in our house and I'm tired of looking at their faces." She grumbled. "But, I can't pull the plug. That'll make me look bad."

"Look bad? How? You have literally, in the past year been violently assaulted (more than once), going through a pregnancy, started a new job, completed a major project, had your workplace burn down, and had a seizure. That has all literally happened to you within a year's time. How are you going to look bad for finally getting tired?" He asked. She shrugged. People would say things. She already knew they would. "I'll shut it down, if I have to. I will go in there right now and say 'Bree won, everybody go home,' if I gotta." She raised an eyebrow.

"Bree? Hmph." She rolled her eyes.

"She's the most qualified, isn't she? Doula and daycare and all that stuff? I don't know, unless she lied, because I didn't see any of that in her file. I combed through those files."

"Nothing to do with her being young and supple and pretty," she commented.

"And nothing to do with a what? She's alright, I guess. I wasn't paying attention. I had my Daddy Glasses on, trying to find my daughter's nanny. But lemme see," he turned and looked at Bree, sized her up and jokingly blew out a whistle. "You're right, Jones. She's got the goods, huh?" The face that she gave him was enough to slay him, but for some reason was met only with his chuckling. "Oh, so you wanted to try to prod me, but you didn't want to hear that. What did you want to hear, Babe? She's invisible outside of the paperwork that claims that she can do the job. I had my money on Stobb, but she doesn't have credentials."

"She's got credentials," Jonesy said. "They all have credentials."

"I mean to take care of a baby and slash or child. Keep up, Jones. This is serious business we are dealing with, here." He threw an arm around her and told her, "I think if you're stressed, we need to pull the plug on this. Its only an online thing and nobody is paying you to do it. You have real shows to consider, coming up sooner than necessary." He gave her a kiss on the side of the head.

"It's only a couple more weeks. Baby will be here in days and I won't even care about the cameras," she said.

"Mmhmm." He intertwined their fingers and kissed the back of her hand.

"But you like Bree, huh?" She repeated.

"I didn't say that. But, I think your mom likes her and your sister likes her. She's good with kids and people. I mean... she plays Candy Crush instead of studies, even though she knows she's being recorded. That's either sheer idiocy or she's confident in the skills."

"And she's pretty," Jonesy said. "I'm not gonna get mad if you admit that the woman is damn pretty, Sam."

"That has nothing to do with the job, though. I thought you would like her for it," he said.

"I do. I'm glad that you chose somebody. That's gonna make all this much easier," she admitted.

"But, it would have been easy if you gave me three resumes with the stuff on them and no photos!" He fussed.

"But, then you would have insisted that you had to see them in action… You're a stubborn man, Sam Evans. You don't make things easy for me."

"I try!" He snuggled against her. "I want to make things better for both of you."

"You'll be perfect. I already know it… I want a foot rub," she said and poked her bottom lip out.

"Stubborn Sam is on it!"

#dmmo #don't make me over #samcedes fanfiction

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runnin-on-sunshine · 7 years

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I don't get it. Why was erin not allowed to react to this case? Is she not human? Excuse me but we DID see jay react, a lot. They focused on him but you guys act as if he didn't have a say. But he's not the only one who is familiar with child violence, erin is too. And so I thought it was well-balanced. It'd suggest you to read this review. It talks about the whole episode, the case but mostly the notion of partners and linstead. ‘Chicago P.D.’ 4×22 Review: ‘Army of One’

No one is saying Erin isn’t allowed to react. What we’re saying is that Jay literally went through a case MUCH similar to this one - a pedophile raping and murdering a little boy, Jay finding him already dead. Jay was very affected by the Ben Corson/Lonnie Rodiger situation and we saw how strongly he reacted to the possibility of Lonnie doing the same to another boy. We have also seen him be deeply affected by other cases involving pedophilia - with Ethan, with Ellie. They took a serious toll on him.

Yes, we did see him react in 4x22 and I’m yet again impressed by Jesse’s ability to show so much emotion using no words. The scene where he was trying to revive the boy was heartbreaking. His reactions at the perv’s house and in interrogation were also great and appropriate. But no, he was not focused on.

Instead, they chose to CREATE a new story for Erin when there was no need for it. Ignoring the fact that from what we have seen, Jay gets more emotional with cases of this type, I think that introducing a new story was stupid. Erin has a history too, yes - with her brother, who was in foster care (like in the case now). Why didn’t she remember him? Why a girl she knew almost 30 years ago? How was that such a strong trigger? It didn’t feel justified for me. It felt like she was being irrational. And yes I understand that Bunny, and the situation with Jay took their toll on her, but I just don’t think this story they chose was the appropriate trigger.

And overall, what people are upset about is the fact that the Linstead break-up was supposed to be about Jay’s struggle, his PTSD, his inability to share with Erin. That got swept under the rug, the only scene explaining something got cut, while we get to learn yet another thing about Erin and get to meet her shrink? As a Jay fan, this is very frustrating. Because I know his own issues won’t be addressed, because he’ll have to look out for Erin, try to help her, try to stop her from leaving, try to find her if she does, whatever they choose to go with. He’ll be her support, and while I love him for it, I also want to see the roles reversed.

Sorry about this rant. I did think the episode was great in terms of case and pace, and there were things I enjoyed like Upton and Kevin/Adam. You didn’t leave a link for the review so I’m not sure which one you’re referring to.

#linstead #chicago pd #jay halstead #erin lindsay

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ourimpavidheroine · 7 years

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so are you saying you never want a comment that disagrees with you? sorry, not trying to be rude, just asking. I don't mean the other kind of comments like transphobic or whatever.

Well, I’m glad you don’t mean transphobic comments (or any others of that ilk) because no one needs to justify and/or explain deleting those.

What it comes down to is the difference between critique and criticism. A fair amount of readers don’t know (or care, in some cases!) the difference between the two.

A critique is something that the writer (or artist, or whomever) could potentially find useful in improving their craft.

A criticism is simply complaining about what you don’t like. There is no benefit at all to the creator in question.

So let me give an example:

CRITIQUE

Wait, I’m confused here. Is Wu in love with Qi or not? It’s not clear from that last chapter.

Why is this helpful? Well, it tells me that the reader is not picking up what I am putting down, so to speak. Now, there could be several reasons for this. It might be that I have not played all of my cards yet - I may have something planned and I am deliberately writing a slow reveal. In which case, all is well! It might be, however, that I have something clear in my head but I am not getting it across to my readers as well as I think I am. In which case, this is very important information! This is good feedback! I can go back and look at my work with a critical eye and say, you know, the reader is right and I am being too vague here, so I need to address this with more clarity in the next chapter (or whatever). I have gotten these kinds of comments and I always publish them. I value them, very much.

CRITICISM

I was really into this story until you introduced polyamory. It’s a terrible idea. I hate it.

What is the purpose of this remark? Will it help me to improve as a writer? No, it won’t. Will I change my story line because of it? Not even close. Is there anything that I, as a writer, can do with this remark? Absolutely not. But see, that’s the entire point of criticism. When people post comments like that it is all for themselves. There is no real exchange of ideas happening there; there is no response I can give as a writer to them that will be satisfactory. I am certainly not going to apologize because a reader doesn’t like what I have done with a story, be it characterization or plot. Why on earth would I apologize? I’m not sorry I wrote it that way. The reader is under absolutely no obligation to continue reading my story; they certainly haven’t paid for it. Only once has any of the readers leaving these kinds of comments been a reader that had left any kind of other feedback for me. In other words, people who make those kinds of comments have never bothered to engage with me before and are still not engaging with me. They just want to make a dramatic exit and have the last word. Why on earth should I indulge them in this?

I’ve been active on the internet since 1992; I have watched the rise of the comment section trolls. They don’t actually care about whatever it is they are trolling, despite their strident claims to the contrary. They’re just there to fuck shit up. People who care about something want to enjoy engaging with other fans, not proving other fans wrong. That’s your litmus test, right there. Is this person trying to engage with me in mutual enjoyable discourse or are they there to prove me wrong? If it is the former, then go for it, even if it might get a little heated (because that happens sometimes). If it is the latter, then fuck ‘em.

As I said earlier, my own personal troll here doesn’t actually like my fic and has said that directly. They are reading it for no other reason than to make horrible comments on it. (And this only came about after months of not actually reading my fanfic but coming here on Tumblr and asking my “opinion” on ATLA and/or TLOK which was a transparent excuse to reblog my answers with really nasty commentary on them, attempting to somehow prove me wrong. It was only after I stopped biting on their Asks that they actually went and started reading my fanfic.) I’m not going to help them do that by leaving their comments up on my work; it’s abuse, plain and simple, and I do not feel under any obligation to help an abuser. Especially not my own. My troll has tried over and over again to tell me that I am wrong for deleting their comments, by the way. They absolutely want me to help them by being complicit in my own abuse. Which is, in fact, a textbook abuser’s move; hell, it’s number one on the list. And it’s just not going to happen.

I have watched a lot of young and/or fragile writers pour their hearts and souls into writing fanfic, only to walk away because a reader felt entitled to leave useless, unhelpful and sometimes even cruel criticism. That goes for young artists as well; I’ve seen the absolutely horrible bullying that goes on here on Tumblr. Sending Asks telling an artist to kill themselves! What the actual fuck! It’s why, quite frankly, I have gently dissuaded my daughter from getting a Tumblr account and posting her art here. Those kinds of comments would devastate her. There is a big difference between telling an artist, “Hey, you know, I see you whitewashed Korra there, and as a person of color I’d really like to tell you why that’s a hurtful thing to do us and oh here are some links that explain about it as well,” and telling them to kill themselves or die in a fire or never draw again. But see, that’s the thing. There is a real sense of entitlement that comes with leaving criticism that just blows my mind. To me, it reads as if the consumer of the art thinks that the creator actually owes them something, even if that something is forcing them to pay attention to the consumer by leaving unhelpful, rude and sometimes even abusive commentary. I strongly disagree with this. Creators are not obligated to their fans. Or as Neil Gaiman once famously put it, “[The Creator] is not your bitch.”

It’s not that big a leap to go from leaving a comment telling a creator that you don’t like something to stalking someone online to making actual threats and/or doxxing them. The anonymity of the internet makes it very easy, in fact. Internet trolls that cross over the line from being an entitled asshole to engaging in actual illegal behavior had to start somewhere. And that start isn’t by reading half a chapter of fic and backing out to find something else they like better or just scrolling past art they don’t like, you know?

Every single time a writer leaves up garbage commentary on their work, they are giving their tacit approval of a reader’s belief that they are entitled to shit all over said work.

It’s not the same when it comes to a professional writer, of course. For one thing, they are being paid for their work. For another, reviews on Goodreads or Amazon or on review sites aren’t about engaging the author in discourse about their work. Authors (unless they are Anne Rice or something, wooo-weee) are not responding to reviews. Reviews are all about readers getting their chance to let other readers know how they felt about the work. Dude, if I am going to be shelling out cold hard cash for a book then I’d like to read some nuanced reviews of it first, for sure. I ignore the stupid troll ones, of course. Most of those get downvoted anyhow because nobody likes a troll but a troll.

That being said…do we leave reviews on AO3 or Tumblr in order to tell other readers how we felt about a writer’s work? No. We do not. We leave comments, because we are engaging in fandom discourse with the writer, someone else who loves the fandom as much as we do.

Reviews and comments are not the same thing, kids. There’s a reason why they are two separate words. There is a reason why AO3 and Tumblr (and fanfiction.net, etc.) very deliberately use the word comments and why Goodreads and Amazon and The National Book Review use the word review. Language matters.

In other words, comments ≠ reviews.

Fanfic is not the same as original published work. Fandom is made up of people who love their particular fandom; fanfic is written by writers that are creating transformative works out of love. (Not that we wouldn’t mind money or anything, but that’s not the end goal.) Two completely separate worlds. Sure, sometimes the lines get blurred - I myself once met a writer at a signing whom I admired and embarrassed the hell out of myself by fangirling all over him. (He was very gracious about it.) But he was there to do a signing, not chitterchat over Tumblr for hours over why it is Bolin can lavabend but not metalbend. Totally different scenario. There are quite a few published writers here on Tumblr who engage with their fans, but they are still not engaging with them over their book reviews, I can tell you that much.

And in any case, who the hell scrolls down on AO3 to read all of the comments before they read the fanfic anyhow? I’m not saying that it couldn’t happen, I’m just saying it’s not the general practice. Not even fanfic readers are using the comments section as a means of deciding whether or not they want to read a fic. People read the tags and the summaries and go by word of mouth when it comes to choosing a fanfic to read. Again - comments section, not a review section!

Some fandom creators can handle critique or criticism and some can’t. Some writers leave up all the shit commentary on their fics and that’s fine. It’s their choice and I’m all about choice! But for me, I’m not going to be any part of teaching a reader on AO3 that they are entitled to shit all over someone’s work just because they don’t understand what the hell the comments section is for. I surely am not going to allow them to think that it is okay to be an asshole in my comments section just because they think it is somehow their god-given right to be one. Freedom of speech does not mean I have to let you take a dump all over my front lawn, you feel me? Go crap all over your own space.

It may not hurt me, a crusty old bitch who could care less if some stranger off the internet is offended by polyamory. But it could hurt and discourage other fanfic writers and anyone who has followed me for any length of time knows how much of a Tumblr Mom I am. I want to encourage new creators. I want to support them as they feel their way about, as they try to improve their work. I try to give as much written support as I can in terms of commenting, reblogging, etc. But I also want them to understand that they are not under any obligation to deal with the haters. Comments are not meant to be reviews; they sure as hell are not meant to be criticism. Leaving up hate on my own work does not get that message across to either the haters or the creators who are having to deal with that hate, as far as I am concerned. And that’s why I won’t do it.

#administrative post #suicide cw #trolls #abuse cw #anonymous

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