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#now occupying a kind of big sister role to the others after living all her life as an only child!
heich0e · 1 month
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liv…. i eat up your dialogue EVERY TIME like a crazy person.. if you post smth for someone i dont go here for, i read it just because 🤍 i 🤍 love 🤍 your 🤍 writing 🤍 but that being said……. i must know the details of the canonverse levi wip you posted. what did erwin do! what was levi and r’s relationship! how!!!!
if you're genuinely interested, i really don't mind telling u what the plot is because i will quite literally never post it. it was the first fic i ever wrote for any anime, and i hadn't even gotten very far into the actual show at the point of writing—so while some aspects are (tenuously) canon-compliant, there are also many very clear ways in which it is not.
so, to reduce that terrible levi x reader fic (it's so bad and i MEAN that!!) down to its barest bones, start to finish:
[WARNING: THERE IS AN ENTIRE FIC SUMMARIZED UNDER THIS READ MORE AND IT IS MULTIPLE THOUSANDS OF WORDS LONG. THEMES INCLUDE: DUBCON, CANON CHARACTER DEATH, VAGUELY MISOGYNISTIC TONES, AND EVERY SINGLE CRINGE-Y FANFIC CLICHE U CAN IMAGINE. BYE.]
at the point where the fic opens, reader is a young, low-ranking soldier in the survey corps on her way to mitras with levi and erwin to attend a small gala being hosted by a very wealthy family that they're petitioning (effectively wooing) to provide funding for the corps
the reason reader is asked to come along is because she comes from a very good family in mitras and is connected to the "high society" folk—though never explicitly stated, erwin very much intends to use her and her social graces as a sort of poster child and mouthpiece for the corps, in hopes that she can charm ppl and help them gain favour to accomplish their goal
all things considered, reader was very privileged growing up and had as comfortable/luxurious of a life as anyone (at least anyone in paradis) could possibly hope to have. her family is aristocracy/noble and comes from a long line of "wealth." her father is a doctor who consults with the military in a high ranking capacity—though he's never actively been a soldier, and it's largely just a cushy job where he doesn't do much actual grunt work, just gets consulted on things and sits on boards or whatever
reader graduated from school and enlisted in the military when she came of age—to the shock and horror of her family (especially her mother) and their noble peers. but she felt an impetus to do something with her life that wasn't just sit around docilely and look pretty until eventually her father handed her over to an advantageous husband and she went from daughter to wife and surely then eventually mother—while never actually having any agency or choice for herself
because reader was well-educated from childhood, she did well academically at the cadet academy, and because she grew up in a comfortable home she is physically very competent as well (though truthfully her skill as a soldier is often very OP and cringey to read back now... but it was my first fic! sue me!)
levi and reader don't interact much in the corps (as he's not her squad leader) but when they do they're constantly at odds—he thinks less of her as a result of her silver spoon upbringing, and while she doesn't dislike him, per se, she definitely resents his treatment of her
on the trip to mitras (alongside a very uncomfortable homecoming to her estranged family's home with two men who are effectively her bosses) they attend the gala/banquet and it's revealed that the family hosting it is the most wealthy in mitras (save for the royal family, though they're sort of unofficially considered the second-in-command) who reader is very familiar with—they have a son her age, and a few daughters slightly younger, who she grew up close to (i made all these characters up btw.... first fic liv was rly going wild)
the son from this family was always sort of sweet on reader growing up, and they have a vaguely romantic history in their teens (before reader enlisted.) reader very quickly surmises that she was brought along (or at the very least is able) to possibly sway the son in their favour, as the eldest and heir to this family's fortune, who would in turn convince the father to support the corps
the son (his name is adam btw. if anyone cares? lmao) is actually very sweet, and earnestly cares for her. he's just blinded by his own affluence to a lot of realities—like most extremely wealthy people are
reader is a good soldier and she's cunning, and she knows that what she's doing is ethically/morally questionable but in the interest of the greater good she goes along with some flirtation/manipulation for the cause
the story progresses and reader continues her work in the military, but the heir from this family is clearly infatuated with her and he (and his father/family by extension) begin implicating themselves more heavily with the military as an excuse to see her/spend time with her/etc though of course it's all under the guise of official business
so it's like the life she fled is bleeding into the one she built for herself, and it's stark juxtaposition becomes very clear in those instances where they overlap and she's forced to juggle them both
she just wants to be a soldier and do good. erwin is (in so many words) pressuring her to do her part and keep up the charade. levi is watching this all unfold from the wings and starts to feel some genuine sympathy for her
lots of very dramatic things happen, yadda yadda yadda. levi grows less hostile over time, and reader becomes closer to him. she's always respected him and that grows into something mutual. there's a lot of unspoken tension brewing between them
it's revealed that reader threw her cadet exam results so that she wouldn't be in the top of her class, and therefore couldn't become an MP and had to join either the garrison or the scouts. she did it intentionally (erwin knew and used this to his advantage) so that her family wouldn't be able to force her back to mitras. when levi realizes what erwin did/knew and how he used it to his own advantage it really upsets him, because he's basically pimping reader out for the betterment of the survey corps. this is the first time you really see levi get angry about the way she's being used (and you can infer in this moment that he maybe cares about her a bit)
more dramatic stuff happens!
the story culminates in the reveal that the son is planning to ask for reader's hand in marriage. her own family has already agreed. part of the financial agreement the powerful family has made with the survey corps is that reader will effectively be retired once she marries (and transferred to a clerical role with the MPs. desk work, basically. fake work, for all intents and purposes, because the position was made up just for her)
reader goes to erwin, understandably extremely distraught when she finds out, and begs him to stop it from happening. she doesn't really care about getting married, but she doesn't want to leave the scouts. he effectively (though not explicitly/in these particular words) implies that maybe if she fucks her "fiance" he'll be more open to compromise and let her stay in the corps
she does it, but unsurprisingly loverboy is not about to let the woman he's obsessed with (who he has now officially boned lmao) go back to risking her life every day in the military, and it's almost immediately revealed that her plan didn't work at all
(erwin pretty much knew the whole time it wasn't going to work. bastard.)
reader feels betrayed and helpless. she goes to levi the night before she's set to leave—who basically is like "uhhhh i told you so??" upon finding out what's happened—and they end up sleeping together anyway in a very emotionally fraught and vulnerable moment
she leaves the next day
a timeskip happens. turns out that the ENTIRETY of the wealthy family was killed in the attack in mitras (like between annie and eren's titans i think? don't remember what season that is. a lot of ppl get smooshed in a church. they were there.)
but reader had already been married into the family. she wasn't in the church and inherited the entirety of their wealth as the sole surviving family member.
she was also.... pregnant :) (of course she was! this fic hits every trope and bad fanfic cliche! maybe it's twins!)
levi is back in mitras years (??) later (listen.... i didn't know where the hell the canon storyline of this manga was going at the time so FORGIVE ME for the fact that obviously this is not canon compliant l m a o)
reader has become sort of a recluse since everything happened in mitras, but having inherited the wealth she's become a key figure politically and particularly with respect to the military because of her influence as a donor.
levi tracks her down to this surprisingly humble property on the outskirts of town.
there's a little boy playing in the yard. no more than four or five. he has dark hair and slate grey eyes. levi looks at this child and sees his mother's face.
the little boy speaks to him but levi is (understandably) very confused and disoriented. reader comes outside and is shocked to see levi there. like she's seeing a ghost.
reader tells the little boy to come to her and scoops him up in her arms, and she quietly reminds him (his name is Teddy btw... short for Theodore) that he's not supposed to talk to strangers.
and Teddy leans in real close and says "but mama... he has your wings" because Levi is wearing his survey corps uniform with the insignia on them. you've kept your own patch (a parting gift from erwin when he sold you off... how thoughtful) and treasure it.
all of which is to say that basically Levi is the kid's father, but because reader was already married when her pregnancy was discovered and the timeline still checked out—so no one ever questioned the paternity (especially because she was a WIDOW by the time she gave birth.)
teddy is now the "legitimate" heir to the entire fortune that was left by reader's husband/his family, but until he comes of age it's reader's to manage, so she can provide a safe home for him to grow up in—though notably removed from the society that she was raised in.
it's heavily implied (though not actually confessed) that reader and levi have been in love with each other for all these years, and there's a kind of optimism about what future is ahead for them now that their paths have crossed again. (present day canon-knowing liv is laughing at this part in particular.)
the end.
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hargrove-mayfields · 3 years
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Add A Link and See It Grow
Today’s the last day of the Harringrove Week of Love! The final prompt I chose was Found Family! Read this here or on ao3 posted by ej_writer !
Word Count: 7,305
Rating: T
“Are you serious right now Nancy?”
It was 7:30 at night when Steve heard his doorbell ring and, upon answering it, was met with a swarm of middle schoolers rushing into his house. He had plans to go out to the quarry with Billy in like, a half hour, he could not afford to be the babysitter.
“I’m sorry, Steve. My mom was supposed to watch the kids but she had to go out so she asked me to babysit, but I already told Joyce and Jon I’d help them plan Will's birthday party and it’s only a few days away now and-“ Nancy talked about a thousand miles a minute as she tried to justify dumping the brats on him.
“Whatever, it’s, fine.” It wasn’t, but it wasn’t worth arguing over either. “Aren’t they old enough to watch themselves at this point?”
Nancy didn’t even respond to that, just gave him a stern look that said ‘you’re watching these kids no matter what, get over it.’ She crossed her arms and squinted at him and, even if it didn’t really matter if he agreed, his resolve broke. “Alright, fine.”
She smiled and thanked him before hurrying back to Jonathan’s still running car. Steve sighed and braced himself before turning around to go back inside. The brats were known for wreaking havoc in a matter of minutes, and he wasn't looking to let them destroy his parents’ house.
In the five minutes he was outside they’d already raided the fridge of all of his pop, added the leaf to his dining table (how did they even know where that thing was?), had game pieces and boards thrown all over the place, and made a stack of their bags in the corner of his living room.
“Wait a second, is this a sleepover?” Steve groaned at all of the overenthusiastic nods he received. “Where am I supposed to put all of you little shits?”
Dustin shrugged. “You have enough rooms in this place to house the whole neighborhood. I think you’ll be fine.”
“Well, since nobody felt the need to run this by me first, I’m already busy. Can you dipshits handle yourselves for like, two hours?”
The look on Mikes face perfectly mirrored the one his sister had given Steve at the door. “Dude, Nancy will kill you if she found out you left us here alone.”
“Not if I kill her first for dumping all of you on me.” The threat had still stuck, she absolutely would kill Steve. There was no way he could get away with leaving them unattended.
He figured he could just call Billy and cancel, but that was really the last thing he wanted to do. He tried to come up with some compromise, but with all the kids pulling up chairs to his dining table with intentions of staying all night, he didn’t really have much of a choice in the matter.
Dialing Billy’s number into the kitchen phone, he walks around the corner into the bathroom, shutting himself in as best he can around the phone's cord in an attempt at having some semblance of privacy from the six sets of prying ears in the next room, but he hears nothing from the other end.
He let it ring a few more times before he gave up, wrapping the cord back up and hanging the phone back in its slot. This wasn’t going to go over well.
Because it wasn’t like he could just be like ‘hey, I have to go do this, be back in a few’ when what he had been planning on doing was going on a date with Billy Hargrove. They were sneaking around behind the kids' backs, so that just wasn’t a luxury they had.
But Billy wouldn’t answer his phone, so he couldn’t explain the situation to him either, and now Steve was backed into a corner, and exponentially screwed.
At first, he was trying to just stay out of the kids’ hair, hover in the corner while they did their thing just to make sure they didn’t get it of hand, but he was feeling too jittery and nervous, so he pulled up one of the thousand extra dining chairs his mother kept around for dinner parties and joined in their stupid game.
For once, they were playing normal people games instead of that role playing thing he couldn't wrap his head around, so he could actually understand what was happening enough to participate.
Not that that meant he ever won, being outsmarted by these kids was his specialty. Round after round they ran circles around him, and he was getting frustrated enough he was considering making them sleep outside.
He was about to throw his cards down and quit for what was probably the tenth time already when he heard the telltale sound of Billy’s Camaro pulling into his driveway.
That was really bad. He’d stood Billy up, and he’d be pissed, he couldn’t let him just barge in here and make a scene in front of the kids. Because not only would that mean they knew Steve was not crushing on some imaginary girl or whatever he’d made up to thwart their suspicions, but that he was with Billy Hargrove of all people. They’d never let it go.
He shot a quick look at Max, who no doubt would’ve been able to recognize the sound of her own brother's car, hoping to somehow communicate to her to keep these other assholes occupied while he dealt with this. He was pretty sure Max already knew about them anyways.
Forfeiting again, he got up from the table and hurried towards the front doors.
Will called after him with a sympathetic, “It’s just a game, Steve!” which thankfully meant they either hadn’t heard or hadn’t recognized the sound of Billy’s car.
Holding up the pack of camels he always kept in his pocket, he turned around to face the kids, backing towards the door still. “Just need a smoke break.”
That seemed to appease them, and they went back to what they were doing. He practically ran the rest of the way to the door, as he opened and closed it before they could see the boy on the stoop.
Billy was standing there probably about to lay on the doorbell, something he always did just to drive Steve crazy, and seemed surprised at the way he came all the way outside and shut the door behind himself. “Listen, I’m on babysitting duty, so I kind of can’t do this right now.”
At the same time Billy’s face fell, Steve felt his heart drop into his stomach. This wasn’t about their rendezvous, turning up at Steve’s house usually meant he needed something, and judging from the way his hands were stuffed deep into his pockets and the way he was worrying his lip between his teeth, it was something important. “Whatever, Harrington. I’ll get out of your hair.“
“That’s not what I meant.” Steve reached out and put his hand on Billy’s arm to get his attention. “I’m sorry. I want you to stay, I just, I needed you to know they were here.” The additional so you didn’t out us and ruin our lives forever went unsaid, but Billy knew the implications of being caught by the kids.
“I need your first-aid kit“ It was hard for him, asking for help, but these days it was something he needed a lot of.
“Okay.”
Without another word he opened the door and led Billy inside, making him kick off his muddy biker boots before following him up the stairs to where he kept the band aid kit in his bathroom. One of the perks of having a big house was that the kids, from where they were in the dining room, couldn’t see the door, and only heard them go up the steps.
This had become routine for them, Billy showing up at his door in need of a little TLC, and Steve desperate to give it to him, but up to this point they’d been able to evade the kids. He didn’t think it would honestly be all that bad if they knew, Billy’s sister was among them and probably wouldn’t let her friends run too wild with the information, but Billy had made him swear on his life he’d never let them, or anyone else for that matter, find out about it.
Of course he understood that. There was a reason this kept happening, these nights when Billy would show up at his door in need of assistance, and that reason, who’s name happened to be Neil Hargrove, would undoubtedly kill the both of them were he ever to catch word that his son was dating Steve Harrington.
Steve had the displeasure of meeting Neil in person only once in late December, when he’d dropped Max off at her house after a Christmas party at the Byers. Being that he was such a responsible and caring father, or at least that’s what he was for the public eye, he just had to meet the boy who was watching his daughter.
Steve’d been beyond unsettled by the unnecessary firmness of his handshake, the distant look behind his so obviously practiced smile, the way Billy, with his arm in a cast for reasons he wouldn’t tell anyone, loomed in the corner as Neil did his interrogation.
When he was satisfied with the answers he’d been given, sure that Steve wasn’t carting the kids around because he was a creep or something, he’d let him go with a slap to the shoulder that was a little too hard to be friendly, and made Billy, maybe as a show of some sort of old fashioned respect, walk him back to his car.
“Did he do that to you?” Maybe it was because his experience with his own father had made it easier to recognize, but Steve was pretty sure he had a good idea of what was going on here.
Billy kept his eyes downcast and his shoulders squared, defensive in a way that was distinctly un-Billy. The broken arm must have been preventing his fighting instincts from taking over, or maybe it was the guilt from already beating the shit out of Steve once. “Maybe.”
That was enough of an answer for him. “Look, if you ever need anything, just like, I don’t know, come find me or something, man.”
Billy’s head snapped up to look at him. Steve could practically see the gears turning in his head as he tried to think of some response, but that had gotten to him. He kept his lips pressed in a flat line, and stared at Steve like he just grew a second head.
“I’m sorry for lying to you, just, my door is always open, or whatever.” It was extremely awkward, Steve offering help to the boy who’d literally just beat the shit out of him and concussed him like a month ago, but he could see through him.
The scar in his eyebrow didn’t come from their fight, nor did the cast on his arm. Seeing the way Neil acted, the saccharine smile he wore as he made subtle threats on him when he literally did nothing but drive his daughter around, he had enough to figure out that those injuries had been from what Billy had faced once he came home that night.
Billy hadn’t said anything, just scoffed and turned around to go back into his house, but a week later he showed up at Steve’s house, having gotten the address off of their sort of mutual friend Tommy, with a broken nose and bled all over his living room carpet, and the rest was history.
Steve walked him into the bathroom and sat him down on the toilet seat, popping open the first-aid kit where it sat on the tiled counter. “Where’re you hurt?”
A nervous habit of his, Billy was chewing on the side of his thumb nail. His gaze flickered between Steve’s face and the framed painting behind him on the wall. “S’my ribs.”
Steve got him to shrug out of the two different jackets he was wearing, his first winter in the Midwest had proved to be far too cold for a Cali-raised boy like Billy, and pull the Henley shirt he had on over his head. The damage hidden underneath was enough to make him sick to his stomach.
Reaching out, Steve gingerly touched the deep purple bruises littering the other boy's chest and ribs. He felt breathless, this was by far the worst he’d ever seen it. “Jesus, Bills.”
Billy wasn’t very good at accepting sympathy from others. It made him feel all squeamish to be fussed over, and Steve was the king of fussing over him. He muttered, “Think there’s a cut towards the back.”
Steve wrapped his fingers around Billy’s forearm and gently pushed his arm up over his head to inspect the damage, and sure enough, there was a gash about 6 inches long on his left side. “What the hell did he do to you?”
Billy sniffs, looks away and says, like it’s nothing, “Steel-toes break the skin easier.”
Every time they did this, Steve’s heart broke into a million little pieces. The nonchalance of it all was the worst part, the way it was so normal for Billy to have his father kick him until his ribs were bruised black and bleeding, it made him so sad to see his Billy that way.
He let Billy put his arm down and crossed his own arms over his chest, “You’re gonna need stitches.”
“You know how to sew.” Another shot right in his heart, Steve didn’t know how much of this he could handle.
“Barely. And this is completely different.” Steve stepped forward and put his hand on the side of Billy’s face, keeping him from looking away again to stare at that stupid painting on the wall. “Don’t wanna hurt you.”
“I can take it, Stevie. Either you do it or I will.” If Billy gave an ultimatum, he meant it.
He definitely didn’t know how to sew, it was a skill considered too feminine to be taught to a son despite its usefulness, so he never learned how, but if Steve didn’t agree he would’ve very much done it and hurt himself a thousand times more in the process just to prove a point
So Steve reluctantly did it, made Billy hold his arm over his head and turn to face the other wall so he could see it better. Not that he was an overly emotional person, or maybe he just wouldn’t admit he was, but the sight before him put tears in his eyes.
Billy caught that, and despite the swell of nervousness in his own chest as he saw Steve threading a needle from out of the kit, he offered comfort to his boyfriend.
“Only a few more months before I’m outta there, then we won’t have to worry about this shit any more.” Billy would turn 18 in June, just under three months from now, but when he showed up at Steve’s door bloodied and bruised every other day, that long stretch of time offered no comfort.
It wouldn’t be as easy as Billy seemed to think it was to leave. He wouldn’t have any money, the Camaro wasn’t in his name, so he wouldn’t have any way to get around, and he didn’t even know where he would stay yet. That was all hypothetical for if he’d even be able to leave too.
With an abusive father constantly looming over his shoulder and keeping tabs on him, he’d know he was going to leave and try to stop it at all costs. It was only a matter of time before he started trying to manipulate Billy into staying.
It clearly didn’t have the desired effect on Steve. Billy’d even offered his assurances with a smile, but his boyfriends face stayed grim as he wiped at the cut with an alcohol pad so he could start to try to stitch it shut.
They stayed silent after that, while Steve tried to steady his shaking hands for long enough to get the needle in and out of Billy’s skin without hurting him too bad. The only break in the silence was the occasional gasp from Billy when Steve made another hole in his skin, or the noise drifting up from when the kids started yelling downstairs.
After a few more times in and out he was able to tie it off, the sutures were sort of crude, but were doing their job, and he made Billy move his arm all around to make sure they wouldn’t tear right through his skin. Once he was appeased, he made him put a new shirt on, the other one stained with his blood would have to be washed.
Billy stood up and wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist. “I’m gonna be okay baby.”
Steve reached his arms around the back of Billy’s neck and pressed their foreheads together. “I know but-“
Cutting him off with a quick kiss, Billy interjected. “It doesn’t matter about him as long as I have you.” Another peck to his lips. “Love you.”
It hardly did anything to cheer Steve up or comfort him, but there wasn’t anything that could when every night, he sent his boyfriend back into the arms of a monster. He sighed and ran his fingers through the long hair at the back of Billy’s neck. “I love you too.”
Neither of them knew how much time had passed when Billy pulled away to grab his jacket off of the counter. Shrugging the layers back onto his shoulders, he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket again. “I should go. The nerd herd’s gonna wonder where we went.”
“I want you to stay.” Steve kissed him one more time. “Not gonna let you go back to him yet.”
Billy looked like he wanted to protest, but Steve must’ve been looking as sad as he felt, because Billy sighed and gave in. “Fine. But your kids aren’t going to be too happy about that.”
“They’ll be fine.” Billy always seemed to underestimate just how much the kids liked him.
It was true that they hadn’t been his biggest fans at first, but when they first started doing this, Steve made him swear he’d apologize to them, and he did.
They were smart kids, they understood how the situation had looked when he got pissed, all of them hiding from him in a strangers house, and they understood the implications too of him begging Max to leave with him and his arm being broken literally the next day when she hadn’t.
It wasn’t immediate forgiveness, they were pretty wary around him until they felt he’d done enough to prove that he meant it when he apologized, but they’d all more or less accepted it by now.
Because he hadn’t stopped after just saying sorry. The words themselves never meant much to him at all, what with the situation he grew up in, so he tried to show them he was sorry.
Which was how he had become the secondary chauffeur after Steve, taking more than just Max home after trips to the movies or the arcade, and consequently how he had started helping them sneak around.
More than a few times he’d helped them smuggle Eleven out of her dad's cabin, because he understood feeling trapped, before he had his own car Neil had been able to keep him under 24/7 surveillance. He always covered for Lucas too, driving him home first before anyone else, and when Neil wanted to know who Max had been with, he’d lie and say it was just Dustin or El. After what happened it felt like the least he could do, but Steve was right, by now, they were pretty much over it.
Either way, he didn’t exactly want to have to explain away why he and Steve had disappeared upstairs for the last hour, hour and half. They might forgive him for his stupid outburst, but he couldn’t be sure where they drew the line.
Steve smiled at him and wrapped his fingers around Billy’s wrist, pulling him out of the bathroom and back through the hallway to the stairs. “Just follow my lead.”
Any semblance of a plan was lost when they made it back to the kitchen, Billy leaning in the doorway while Steve announced his presence, and they saw Eleven washing blood off of her hands in the sink.
There were some things Billy knew he’d never understand about these kids, Steve had made him promise he wouldn’t ask questions even though that was what had got them into a fight in the first place, so, despite his confusion, he didn’t even try to ask.
Not even when Steve put his hands on his hips and reprimanded her. “Oh, you were not spying on me.”
She smiled coyly. “I was.”
Billy felt the blood drain out of his face, felt his heartbeat skyrocket as he and Steve exchanged a look of fear. Steve stuttered and started trying to explain. “Listen you guys-“
Dustin cut him off, always overly eager to complain. “She won’t tell us anything.”
Nodding, Mike agreed. “She says it’s an ‘invasion of your privacy’.” He used air quotes around the last part as if spying on people in their own homes wasn’t exactly that.
The fear on Steve's face shifted into anger as he pointed his finger in Mike's face. “That’s because it is. I told you little shits a thousand times: no spying.”
Lucas interjected, agreeing with his friends. “What’s it matter if she won’t tell us anyways?”
Max fixed him with a deadly look and scoffed. “It matters because she didn’t want to and you made her. Why should she tell you what she saw?” Typically, Max would be on Lucas’ side, but they must’ve been fighting again.
Billy, watching the scene unfold while leaning on the door frame, clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth and announced. “Seems like I walked into something.” He turned to walk away and called over his shoulder. “Catch ya ‘round, Harrington.”
Before he could get away, Steve grabbed him by the back of his jacket and tugged, stopping him dead in his tracks. “No way. You’re not leaving me to deal with this by myself.”
“Your children aren’t my responsibility.” He reminded him, but he had no actual intentions of actually leaving and they both knew that.
The kids hadn’t understood at first why Steve got along with Billy after he’d been the one to be beat up, so, to put it in a way that made sense to the brats, they pretended to argue so it seemed like they were only begrudgingly hanging out, and so far, they hadn’t seen through it.
Steve had a retort ready, but Dustin beat him to it. The kids were constantly rubbing it in Billy’s face that they’d turned him into a babysitter too. “Yeah, we kind of are.”
Lucas, obviously only trying to get some sort of points towards Max’s forgiveness, agreed. “Especially since one of us is your totally awesome sister.” Max just rolled her eyes at his attempt.
Realizing he was still holding onto Billy’s jacket, Steve pulled him back into the room and let go. “You’re staying.” He turned to Will and asked him like nothing had happened, “So what are we playing?”
Unsurprisingly, the kids had developed tiny attention spans. They'd gotten quite the taste for crazy adventures, so unlike normal teenagers, activities like watching movies and playing truth or dare all night wouldn’t really do it for them.
Since Steve had left, they’d apparently played through two different games and had been about to start a third before they decided to spy.
Mike tells them, “We’ve narrowed it down to Uno and Monopoly.”
“Mike, Will, and Max vote Monopoly. Me, Lucas, and El vote Uno.” Dustin further explained, “We need a tie breaker.”
“I’m not any good at Monopoly. Too much counting.” Steve nudged Billy with his shoulder. “What do you think?”
“Last time I played Monopoly I broke someone's nose, and I’m colorblind. Don’t think my vote counts.” Neither of those facts are particularly untrue, but the only reason Billy brings them up is because he’s still trying to deny that he’s their babysitter.
Staying for Steve, whatever, that was fine, but playing board games with the little shits, that would be giving in, admitting that he wasn’t above hanging out with middle schoolers on a Friday night.
But he doesn’t get out of it, because with the excitement of all of the kids combined, Will pipes up. “Don’t worry, I am too! My mom put shapes on all the cards so I can tell the difference.”
He hurries and fishes out the playing deck, bringing it straight to Billy to look through. “See! Reds are squares, greens are circles, yellows are stars, and blues are triangles!”
Steve smirks at Billy, at the defeated look on his face. “Looks like you’re not getting out of this one, Hargrove.”
Tumblr decided this was too long, go ahead and finish reading on ao3! Over there I’m ej_writer !
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Racing Hearts
Third place
by @formal-fauxpines
Monster Falls AU. Mabel has changed from her original Mermaid form to that of a Unicorn, and Dipper has come upon a greater struggle with his feelings for her.
The sounds of nature did wonders for the nerves. Water moved along it’s natural path, the sounds cutting through a mental fog as it did the soil it moved over. Birds chirping in the distance, accompanied by the sounds of wind blowing through the trees, a symphony to ease an aching heart. Dipper nestled himself in this spot whenever he was facing some kind of trouble in his life. Then again he found he needed to come to this place more and more as of late.
As a creature that was half deer, perhaps it was in his nature to seek the comforts of such a setting. The essence of the forest and wilderness permeated his soul. Ever since he came to this small town of Gravity Falls five years ago he felt that it was more natural for him to be here. Especially since he got to spend time with his favorite person in the world, hiis sister Mabel. Although as of late, this was the same person that was making his problems stand out more. He couldn’t blame her though, especially when the problem was with him.
A few years ago, Dipper began to develop feelings for Mabel. He had always been close to her, they were twins, how could they not be? But he was especially close to her as he provided her much more help than any brother normally would. In this world full of different monsters and creatures, it wasn’t uncommon that different individuals, even related, would be born vastly different. In this case, Dipper having the characteristics of a deer, his sister was born a mermaid. Like any mermaid, she was elegant, beautiful, and enamored anyone who gazed upon her. It was unfortunate that he was one of them.
With her being a mermaid though she couldn’t get around as easily. Dipper naturally took up the mantle of being something of a personal chauffeur to her. He carried her around in a special tank that allowed her enough water to stay comfortable in, yet light enough for him to pull it. This way she didn’t miss out on anything. He didn’t mind taking her around, since he cared for her no matter what. Plus she would always thank him sincerely, and every once in a while he would receive a small kiss for his efforts. When they were younger it was a simple act, yet as they grew, more and more would it be an action that would cause his heart to flutter and his stomach to knot up. He knew he could never act upon these feelings but he appreciated the fact that he at least got that from her.
However, that stopped about a year ago when she decided she needed a change. After their long lost Great Uncle Ford returned to them that first year in Gravity Falls, he continued his research into more and more fantastical parts of the world they lived in. One of those was a spell that allowed monsters to change what kind of creature they were. Mabel knew exactly what kind of creature she wanted to be.
In their first year in Gravity Falls, Mabel had a run in with some unsavory purebred Unicorns. Intending to retrieve a bit of hair for protection against the likes of a certain dream demon, Mabel found their kind were rather difficult to handle. For a few years after the fascination Mabel had with them dwindled and was replaced with scorn. Much like her disdain for Pacifica, however, she found herself not holding her grudge for too long. Not that she was fully over what happened to her, but she still had some admiration for the elegance and beauty that they held. Moreso however, she wanted to prove that she wouldn’t fall into being like the other unicorns.
It was a simple ritual, but it took a day to complete. She needed a bit of the DNA for the creature that she wanted to transform into and the crystal that Ford found could allow them to make the change. She needed to be on her own as any other creatures may negate the transformation and result in her staying in her original form. Dipper gave her a hug before she began her metamorphosis and asked her if this was really what she wanted. She simply replied that it was.
For a full day Dipper was worried how Mabel was doing on her own. If everything was going as it needed to. If she needed anything, if she was having second thoughts, if it caused any issues down the line. He had to put on a brave face though. However, Ford could see through his guise and reassured him that she was going to be fine. He told him all about how he had seen the transformation take place before and how it was harmless to the user. For the rest of the day Ford helped put his mind at ease regailing him with all the stories he had regarding this process and all that came from it. It put Dipper’s mind at ease, yet what he couldn’t admit was how worried he was about how it would affect their relationship.
Ford must have been exposed to some kind of psychic energy as he delved into that as well.
“I imagined that you are worried about how this will affect how you two interact as well, right?”
Dipper was taken aback by this sudden expression of concern. Yet, he was right. That was a big part of his concerns. Dipper just sat there, and kept sipping at his drink. Ford continued on.
“I thought that would come up. I have seen that a few times in my studies of this phenomenon. Most of the time the creature doing the transformation is doing it for someone else. Other times when they do, they have a loved one worried about how it will change their lives together. Don’t worry about that though. I have seen you both through the years and not even something like this will drive you apart.”
Ford patted Dipper on the back comforting him. These words reassured him a little, yet Dipper was never one to completely let go of his worries. After enough time passed it was time for them to go to bed. It was a restless night for Dipper of course. He hoped to occupy his mind with books and making edits to his journal but he couldn’t help but stay up that night concerned.
The next day couldn’t have come any slower. He had breakfast with his Grunkles, and proceeded to help set up some new furnishings in the attic to accommodate Mabel’s new form. No longer would Mabel need the kiddy pool, tarps, and water tank that kept her properly hydrated on land. Dipper especially felt a ping in his heart with letting go of the cart he used to take her around town. What use would he be to her now? Would she want to even hang out as much anymore? These were the things he would have to wait and see when they happened.
With the last hour upon them, the Pines plus Soos, Wendy, Candy and Grenda prepared a small party to welcome Mabel back. Candy and Grenda talked about all the fun plans they had for when Mabel could walk around on her own. Dipper was happy that Mabel had such good friends to be by her side.
Another twinge of pain ran through him again.
What about him? He wasn’t planning anything big with her post transformation. He was her twin and supposed best friend. Where were his plans for her?
At that moment, a clawed paw rested on his shoulder. The brownish-red fur caught his eye as he turned his head up to see Wendy’s face looking down at him. For her cool demeanor, she always seemed to know what was getting at him and relaxed him. That is except for Mabel.
The time finally came. Everyone was on edge to see Mabel’s new form. As the door opened, the unmistakable sound of hooves on the wooden floors resonated throughout the room. She emerged through the doorway gracefully. Her coat shined with a silvery white that glimmered in the light. Her horn gave off a faint golden glow that shined brilliantly. Instead of wearing her usual water friendly attire, she now had on a sweater she had kept a hold of for times when she was going to be dry. It was more something she had fascination with and hoped to wear regularly. Now she could.
Everyone clamored at how beautiful she was. Candy and Grenda were very excited to see her new form and talked about how cute and beautiful she was. Wendy had cooly complimented Mabel in her usual and cool way. Grunkle Stan and Ford both were talking about how lovely she was and how the procedure went. Amongst the chatter, Dipper stood there as he gazed upon her. She was everything that was being said about her by their friends. Dipper couldn't find the words to express how he felt. Everyone had pretty much said what he could have said. However, one thing they didn’t say that he was longing to say was how beautiful she was, and that no alteration to her could change that beauty she had inside her. The beauty she had that he saw everyday and made him fall in love with her.
Dipper held back though and played the role as a “normal” supportive brother he should have been. He complimented her and gave her support. When she stumbled when walking he was the first to put a hand out to help her up and make sure she was okay. Being a quadruped as well he made sure to take the time and teach her how to walk on all fours. He spent so much time making sure she was ready to take things on her own. She was a remarkably fast learned when it came to learning how to do things physically, a big part of her being so hands on with so many activities.
Soon she was able to walk around on her own without any help at all. Dipper had never been more proud of her. She was able to go wherever she wanted now. However that did give a twinge of sadness in him as that meant that the time they were spending together was now over. Dipper's doing right by his sister ended up with him feeling alone once more as he watched her go and live her life without need of his help or assistance. Mabel was able to go anywhere she wanted to. Before if she wanted to go to the mall or anywhere Dipper would take her. Now he didn’t need to, and that left a void inside him.
Dipper tried desperately to fill that void and make himself feel whole again, but he wasn’t able to do it. Writing in his journal and finding new discoveries in the town provided a temporary distraction. However what he found was that being deep in the woods provided him the greatest peace from his thoughts. He let the sounds and essence of the woods settle his mind and permeate his soul, quelling the storm of emotions inside. The birds chirped, the wind rustled the trees, and all was right with the world.
However a distinct sound cut through the natural sounds. The sound of hooves trotting across the forest floor, stepping on twigs and debris as she made her way over to Dipper. His ears twitched as he picked up on the noise, turning his head in the direction of the sound and opening his eyes. There she was, the beautiful and majestic as always, standing before him so that he may admire her. If this was a trap then he would have been done for.
"Hey Bro-bro," Mabel said in her usually cheerful disposition.
“Hey Mabel,” he said with a smile on his face as he struggled to maintain his feelings. “What brings you out here?”
“I was looking for you silly.”
“Me? I mean, didn’t you want to hang out with Candy and Grenda today?”
“I was, but I think it's been a while since I hung out with ya. I miss you Dip-dop.”
Those words hit him hard as he had wondered if she was actually missing him this whole time. He wanted to tell her so many times before, but he didn’t want to guilt her and ruin her freedom and good time.
“It has been a bit, it feels like hasn’t it? I thought you would be tired of me after all the years of having me carry you around honestly.”
“Get tired of hanging out with my Bro-bro? Never! In fact I think it's been weird to not hang out with you for this long actually.”
Dipper wanted to go up and hug her after she made such a statement. It really had been too long. Instead, he stood up and stretched after having sat for so long.
“So what do you want to do?”
“Well… I was thinking maybe having a race.”
“A race?”
“Yeah,” Mabel said excitedly. “I think I have gotten used to these legs enough that I can give ya a run for your money.”
“Oh you want to bet?” Dipper asked Mabel with a sense of confidence. “I know this forest pretty well. You really think you can beat me?”
“Only one way to find out,” Mabel said with a more smug sense of confidence.
“Well what does the winner get?”
“We’ll work the details out later. But the first one to make it to the waterfall is the winner.”
“Wait, Mabel… but.”
“ONYOURMARKSGETSETGO!”
With the quick statement of their start Mabel was off in a fast gallop towards the falls. Dipper was quick to react however as he set off after her. He was used to Mabel pulling a few tricks in their competitions but she seemed to be intent on proving herself and winning this race. For what he couldn't say since they never established a prize, either way it should have been a fun run
Dipper ran as fast as he could to catch up with Mabel as she kept going through the woods. He had to admit how impressed he was at how agile and graceful she was running through the forest. From behind he saw how she would duck and dodge the branches and how she managed with the forest's terrain. He knew these woods well and understood how difficult it could be to navigate for some.
Luckily for him he was well versed in the forest terrain as he made it over and around logs and branches to eventually catch up with Mabel. Trying to stay focused on the path ahead, he did throw caution to the wind to check to make sure she was okay. He could see she was more than okay as the wind flowed through her hair and the sun shined off her unicorn body. Even though she was concentrating on the race, she had the widest grin on her face.
Dipper looked back ahead of him as he narrowly missed a branch that was about to hit his face. He was lucky his reflexes were so sharp from the years spent out there. He decided to stay focused and make it there as fast as he could. At first Dipper thought about throwing the race to give Mabel confidence in herself. But he knew better as seeing her now she deserved a fair race.
After fifteen minutes of running, Dipper could see the falls in sight. The sound of the roaring and rushing water in the distance graced his ears. He could smell the lake as he breathed heavily from having run so hard and so long. The terrain became less dense as it gave way to more grasses and shrubs instead of logs and trees. Giving it one last push Dipper hit the sands of the beach and the momentum took him into the water.
“YEAH!” Dipper shouted confidently as he turned around to see Mabel hit the water right after him.
“That.... was a… good one…” Mabel said between breaths.
“I’ll say,” Dipper said as he left the water to go to the shore. Mabel followed right behind.
After a moment for both of them to catch their break they both began to congratulate one another.
“Wow Mabel, you were so good out there.”
“Me? You were the one who was zipping around those woods like it was  strolling through the park.”
“Well I do spend a lot of time here. And you seem to have it really down yourself managing a race.”
“What can I say? I had a good teacher.”
Dipper blushed at the statement as she always appreciated him and what he did for her.
“Well,” he asked. “What's the prize?”
“Well… I think the winner of this race deserves a special prize.”
Mabel walked up to Dipper slowly, with a sly grin on her face and a caring and half lidded gaze. Dipper wasn’t sure if it was his heart was beating hard from the race or if it was what Mabel was doing, but it nearly stopped when Mabel got close and personal with her twin brother and laid a kiss upon his lips.
The moment her lips pressed into his, the whole world faded away. All that he could sense was Mabel kissing him gently. Her lips were warm and soft like pillows, the taste of strawberries was detected from her lip gloss, the smell of her shampoo filled his nose, and the gentle hums of pleasure she gave practically drowned out the noise of the roaring falls. Everything about her filled his world as if she was all that mattered. To Dipper though, she really was all that mattered.
When the kiss broke Mabel took a step back and looked Dipper in the eyes. She was looking for any sign that he was okay with what happened. Mabel got her answer with a kiss from him, except this time with more passion as he wrapped his arms around her. She did the same, grasping at his shoulders tightly. Their kiss lasted another minute before breaking again.
Dipper didn’t know what to say. For as brilliant of a mind he had he was never good with his emotions and how to express them outright. All he could do was hold her hand and rub his thumb across her fingers.
“What do you think of that as a prize?” Mabel asked.
“I really liked it….but, how did you know?”
“Well, it turned out that the whole seeing into other people’s hearts wasn’t a complete lie. I could sense it a little more after I changed. But you know what Bro-bro. You weren’t the only one with a weird crush.”
“Wait, what?” Dipper asked in surprise.
“What can I say? I had the best brother a mermaid could ever ask for with how you took care of me. I always thought we could be that way forever but it didn’t seem fair to you waiting on me hand and fin. So I wanted to become this, so I could let you be who you wanted to be. But after a while I realized I didn't want to be without you, and I can see now that you feel the same.”
“Mabel… I… I love you.”
It was all Dipper could think of saying.
“I love you too Dipper.”
And it was just the right words for him to say.
The two kneeled down in the sand as they rested their tired bodies after so much happened to them in such a short amount of time. They cuddled, held hands and continued to kiss for some time. It was a moment they wanted to have lasted forever and hoped would happen more often than not.
“So Dip-dop?” Mabel asked, breaking the silence. “How about another race back home? This time the winner gets to decide what to do?”
Dipper smiled as a warmth filled his heart as he gazed upon the sister that he loved so dearly.
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fuckingthefictional · 4 years
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All I want- (part one)
Michael Gray x reader
Written version of this gifset that I made, bonus points for anyone who can find the lyrics to a certain song that inspired this.
Next Chapter is found —> here
For @finallyforgotten who wanted more of this :)
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Henry used to be Y/N’s knight in shining armour. He was always there, he was perfect and filled her up with all the love that she could possibly want or need.
He used to tell Y/N that she was a star in his eyes, he’d hold the door open for her and hold her hand in the dark.
He was just always there.
And Y/N felt as if she was never alone. Until one day she was.
When Henry suddenly left, it caused a brewing storm to swirl inside of the pit of the young woman’s stomach.
But when Y/N brought it up with her mother, the only claim was that “men like Henry were perfect on paper, but they lie to the face.”
It frustrated her- did Henry think she was the kind of girl who needed to be saved. Is that why he took such interest in her? Because she was an easy target?
All of these questions just created more stress and sadness to strike Y/N’s body. She didn’t know who to trust or believe anymore.
It didn’t matter what she conjured up in her mind- All that stood was that Henry had left and with him he took Y/N’s heart.
But he’d left something with her, something that he didn’t know about. And that was his child- the same child that grew within Y/N.
“Ticket ma’am?”
Y/N looked up from her book to see a portly looking train conductor stood in front of her.
“Yes, sorry.” She reached down to her pocket and pulled out the slip of paper, handing it to the gentleman.
He inspected it for a moment, before puncturing a hole into the side, “Are you sure you’re meant to be taking a single to London miss?”
Y/N’s heart leapt up into her throat, “Yes, my mother purchased the ticket for me, I’m to meet my cousin at the station.” She rambled on.
The train conductor passed the slip of paper back, “if you say so.” He mumbled before walking away.
It was only half true, Y/N mused, she was meeting her cousin at the station and her mother did purchase the ticket for her. But she was going to London indefinitely, to have her baby out of the prying eyes of her neighbours.
As her father said before she left, ‘she and her cousin could be the family disgraces together’.
Y/N watched as the world went past, flashes of green melted into a drab mix of greys.
Her new life was moments away, as the train pulled into King’s cross station.
Taking a deep breath, Y/N heaved down her luggage (careful to avoid her stomach region) and began to disembark off the steam engine.
She scanned around frantically, praying that she hadn’t been stood up by her cousin.
“Y/N!”
Whipping around at the sound of her name, she came face to face with her older cousin.
James, wasn’t much older than she was. He was a few years older than she (but he took great pride in bragging about it and holding it over her head).
In fact it had been a good few years since Y/N had even seen James, as he was banned from the family when he was 17.
After he was caught in bed with another male- it meant nothing to Y/N then and nothing to her now.
He was happy, if he found love in the arms of a man then who was she to judge? - she was 17, pregnant and unmarried.
“James!” The pair embraced, swaying as the did so.
“Come on,” the man exclaimed, “we can talk more when we get home.” And with that he picked up the luggage and guided her through the station.
~
“So how come you’ve suddenly decided to come and live with me hmm?”
Y/N paused, debating on what to say but ultimately deciding that there was no point in hiding it at this point.
“I’m pregnant.” She spoke, “and father is ready to disown me so, they sent me to you.”
“Jesus Y/N/N you’re 17,” he rubbed his face with his hands, “You’re practically a child yourself.”
Y/N felt her body shake, “you know if I had a bobbin for every time someone has said that to me, I’d be a fucking millionaire,” she laughed without humour, “I’m going to be a mother james, and every single time someone says what you said, I become more determined to be a good mum.”
“Y/N sit down for a second and stop ranting.” James pointed opposite to the chair she’d previously been occupying, “What I was going to say was that you’re young, so you’re going to need all the support you can get. Which is why I’m going to be here for you every step of the way.”
-
Months later, Y/N was nearing the last month of her pregnancy.
It wasn’t an overreaction to say that she was big. She felt like a bloated whale.
But the young mother found herself getting support from both James and Ada.
God, Y/N was so thankful for Ada. She was the most genuine, caring and hardworking woman that Y/N had ever met.
They’d become great friends ever since they had first met.
The older woman was understanding, but not disconcerting. Loving, but not in a smothering sort of way. Supportive and just damn genuine.
Ada became like the older sister she never had growing up, and the latter was but all happy to take on that role.
She was the one that Y/N could confide in- even about Henry.
“What about the father?”
Y/N looked down, tears already pooling in her eyes, “He’s a boy from my past.” She sniffled,”We fell in love but it didn’t last.”
Ada looked sympathetic, “What happened?”
Y/N found herself shrugging, “It was just like- the second I figured it out he pushed me away,” she steadied her voice, “And I won’t fight for love if he won’t meet me half way- I won’t do it Ada. And I say that I’m through with him, but here I am talking and crying over him.”
Y/N looked at her friend who seemed to be waiting for her to carry on, “All I want it a good guy,” she stated, “Are my expectations far to high? Is there something wrong with me for wanting that?”
Ada just leant forwards, placing her hands on top of Y/N’s shaking ones, “Look- I’ve been through all of these questions. There’s nothing wrong with you okay- I mean look at you Y/N,” she pointed at the other girl’s body, “You’re trying your best at the end of the day, you’re not alone, you have me, Karl, James and Your own child and that is enough for me. You should be proud.”
It was through Ada that Y/N met Thomas Shelby for the first time- which at the time she hadn’t known but would become her future employer.
What was there to say about Thomas Shelby. He was intimidating, he demanded the power of the room. And his eyes- God his eyes. They were piercing blue and just made you cold by looking at them.
The first time Y/N had met the man, she swore she could feel her child squirm inside her, almost as if they were turning away in comfort.
But Ada soon set the record straight, reassuring her brother that Y/N was trusted by her and that the younger girl was a close friend.
The second time that Tommy and Y/N ran into each other was quite literally so. Y/N had been going out for walks (something recommended by her doctor), she was due any day at that point.
She’d been walking in her own little world, fantasising about what her child would look like. Whether they would have Henry’s unruly curls or her eyes.
And then she walked into a wall. A rather tall, slim wall. That spoke with a Brummie accent...and wore a pocket watch.
It was by then that Y/N had realised that it wasn’t actually a brick wall she’d stumbled into. But in fact Thomas Shelby.
Immediately you had stuttered an apology, explaining why you had been so out of it.
He took one look at you. A quick up and down. Before he spoke, “When’re you due?”
The answer caught Y/N completely off guard, she had been expecting a threat for scuffing up his shoes.
“Um, actually I’m due any day now.” She stammered, rubbing her belly lovingly. It was strange really- just how quick she’d grown to love the life inside of her.
The Brummie hummed in understanding, “I remember when Ada was that far along with Karl- a right bloody firecracker she was.”
Y/N smiled slightly, it sure sounded like Ada.
“Listen- Ada would ‘ave my bollocks on a silver platter if I didn’t walk you back to the ‘ouse,” Tommy licked his lips, “So.” He gestured to the arm he was holding out.
“Thank you Mr Shelby.” Y/N said, holding on his arm as they walked the last few streets.
“Tommy- call me Tommy.”
-
Matthew James Johnson was born kicking and screaming on the 14th of February at exactly 2 o’clock in the morning.
He weighed in at 6 pounds and 4 ounces and was everything Y/N could’ve ever imagined or hoped for.
As predicted Matthew held a head full of soft, blonde curls (just like his father) and his eyes were her own Y/E/C. He was just the perfect little mix of her and Henry.
And even though it broke her heart at first, she eventually began to see it as a blessing. Her baby was someone who she would love forever, who she would never let down.
-
A months later Y/N strolled into the apartment angrily. She was turned out of a job, yet again. It felt like it was becoming an impossible feat.
She was simply just unemployable, which angered her hugely.
Y/N was a mother for Christ’s sake, she had a baby who depended on her. How on earth was she supposed to do that for someone if she couldn’t even get a steady stream of income coming through the door.
Matthew was around 8 months old now, he was a troublemaker- but still managed to capture his mother’s heart at every glance. He made Y/N’s life worth it, he really did.
Slamming the large door behind her, she shrugged off her coat and hung it up on the coat rack. There was another that had been added to the normal pile.
Ada’s family must’ve been visiting again. She quietly crept through the hallway, attempting to stay out of the eyes of the Shelby family.
It would’ve worked mind you- if Matthew hadn’t spotted you through the crack in the doorway.
“Ma-ma-ma.” He babbled happily from the floor.
Y/N walked in almost guiltily, scooping up her baby boy from the carpet and planting a soft kiss on his rosy red cheeks.
Ada stopped mid conversation and looked up at Y/N hopefully, “So?”
“Turned away.” The young mother answered frustratedly, “It getting tiring now Ada, I-“
“Ada love, are you going to introduce me to your friend?” The voice came from a stern looking woman.
“Pol,” Ada turned the woman, “This is Y/N- James’ cousin and a close friend of mine.” She turned to the girl who was still holding the wriggling baby, “And this is Matthew, Y/N’s baby boy and my godson.”
Polly was stared intently at the boy in Y/N’s arms. The stare itself was calculating and judgemental but Y/N felt...oddly safe around the woman.
“He’s a beautiful boy,” She spoke softly, “reminds me of my Michael when he was this size.”
Y/N just smiled awkwardly, she had no clue who Michael was, she cleared her throat, asking timidly “Would you like to hold him?”
The older woman opened her arms for the child, and when Matthew was safe in them he gurgled happily.
The door creaked open again, this time Tommy walked through the frame.
The pair had actually become quite good friends of the past months. There was nothing romantic, or remotely sexual about their relationship. It was just a friendship.
Tommy was an the older brother, he kept and eye out and looked out for the girl and her son.
“Y/N.” He nodded to the girl, “When did you get in?”
“Just now,” she replied, “Job interview ran over.”
“And?” He prompted, hand digging in his blazer pocket for a cigarette.
“No smoking around the children Tommy- you know the rules,” Y/N reminded him, “And it didn’t go well- they turned me away.”
Tommy appeared to be deep in thought, “My fiancé is due to have a baby in May.” He paused again, “If you’d accept- I’d be happy to hire you as the baby’s nanny.”
“But Matthew-“
“Can stay with you while you work, it’s only a matter of balancing your family life and work life.”
“Has your fiancé agreed with this arrangement?” Y/N folded her arms.
“She will, she trusts me- and I trust you.” Tommy looked deeply at you, “So?”
“Okay.” The young woman looked at Ada, “I’ll do it.”
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echo-three-one · 3 years
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Chapter 24
I should really put effort on summaries, right? Anyways... Enjoy! ❤️
Table of Contents
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Going Dark - Part 3
Gary "Roach" Sanderson
MacTavish Residence, Glasgow, Scotland
Roach never would have guessed that MacTavish was a big time. Their 'old' house was already a mansion, complete with guest rooms, extravagant furniture and even an outdoor pool. Roach could stay here forever.
He was laying on a queen sized bed relaxing after a tiring chase earlier when Ghost knocked on his door and let himself in.
"What's wrong mate?" he asked, lifting only his head. Ghost leaned by the door and crossed his arms.
"You know how I got into a little argument with France back in Brazil right? Well, I still regret it ever happening…" he frowned, as shown by the way the fabric of his mask twitched.
"You regret which part? The fighting or the telling her what you feel?" Gary asked, cornering the ever vague Simon. He always does that when it comes to asking for advice.
Ghost ran a hand across his face and groaned.
"Bloody Hell, mate. Why do you have to ask those kinds of things?" he complained.
"So I could be clear as to which one I should recommend you to do." He replied quickly. He was very willing to help, but if Simon refuses to cooperate, then maybe he could handle it on his own.
"There's still one thing… I've been meeting with Alexandra not just for intel… " the tone of his voice was hesitant but he took a sharp inhale and continued.
"... we've also been sleeping together. No strings attached. For her it eases her tension from all the work while I try to forget about my feelings for Francine."
Gary didn't know what to say. Simon wasn't the kind of person to give up easily, and he fully understood the reasons for his latest actions.
"Well, it looks like Francine already made her choice, right?" Gary asked, trying to confirm from Simon that he already lost the battle.
"I'm not quite sure. Everytime I see her, she's physically distancing herself from Soap but later that night, they actually slept beside each other. She's making me confused and it still makes my heart beat for her…" Ghost admitted. As tough as he is on the battlefield, so was his admiration toward Francine. Gary pondered on how to help out his friend in this love triangle situation he caught himself in, but every direction he thought of would result in Ghost actually ending up sad.
The discussion was interrupted when a plane was heard from the distance, as it approached the nearby open area. It looked like the girls made it home.
"Looks like they're here." Roach sounded excited while Ghost looked worried.
~
It was impressive how they managed to bring most of their stuff from Brazil here in Scotland. It wasn't that much but the idea of packing things for six people in a hurry made Roach impressed.
"How did you bring most of this stuff?" Roach curiously asked Maxine as he helped her carry her stuff.
"Well, Samantha asked for help from his Dad and they immediately flew to Brazil." Maxine replied cheerfully, Roach loved how she managed to see the bright side of everything amidst the panic.
"So will Samantha-"
"No. They had a long talk with his Dad and she felt much safer back here with us. Her Dad wanted to offer help now that the New York Attack was over, but Samantha insisted, especially now that they're out hiding."
"Doesn't he have the power to like, pardon us for being wanted? That would make life much more easier for us."
"I thought of that too… but they're seeing Shepherd differently now. He's gone mad. And they want to corner him. Any action involving him may result in a global cripple. And I just heard all this on the plane ride here." Maxine frowned.
"Then that makes our job of locating him all worth it." Roach smiled giving hope to Maxine.
Maxine just nodded, her face was full of fear and doubt. She just wished all of this was over.
With Soap probably asleep, Roach had the liberty of touring the girls around the house, it was huge and spacious that each of them could occupy a room with about two more rooms to spare.
"Man, I could stay here forever." Roach mused as they walked the halls of the second floor. These four rooms are already occupied, most of the empty rooms are over there…" Gary pointed to the other end of the hall. Maxine looked at France and nodded as they both agreed to stay in one room.
"What about you, Miss Samantha?" Gary asked with sophistication, imitating a butler. Samantha giggled and blushed.
"I'll actually be sleeping with Alex, thanks Mr. Sanderson." she replied, playing along with Roach's role play. For a short moment, Roach felt relaxed. He hasn't felt like this for a while and it was too overwhelming. But while the enemies hid in the shadows, he was sure the team would be up for a tough fight anytime soon.
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Despite being tired, Roach couldn't sleep. He felt that there was something or someone else he needed to consult. So, he decided to get up and get himself a glass of water down the kitchen. While he could hear himself gulping down a glass of water, he could also hear faint thumping from the basement. With high alert, he began descending down the stairs to investigate the source of the sound.
It was Simon. He was still up and doing sparring rounds with a red punching bag, each of his punches sent the bag swinging violently.
"You okay?" Gary finally asked, alerting Simon of his presence.
"Can't sleep." he said nonchalantly, giving the punching bag another mighty punch. Roach took a minute to admire the huge gym Soap had, each piece of equipment probably spent a fortune. He slowly paced to the small area filled with equipment and grabbed himself some boxing mitts and a protective helmet.
"So, why don't we resume our little talk?" Gary called as he presented himself to Simon on full boxing coach gear. Simon immediately positioned himself and Gary did the same as they began training with the intention of talking it out.
Simon's punches were heavy, Roach could feel a little emotion on each hit he made and it was starting to make him unstable.
"So, anything you'd want to discuss?" Roach initiated, his hands carefully met his punches as they circled around the area.
"I've been trying to ignore her, Gary. You see me try right? But the more I don't think of her, the more excited I get when I accidentally see her. It's frustrating." He explained in between his punches. There it was, the thing bothering him the most.
"What did she say back in Brazil? She probably said something that kept you from moving on. I can't think of anything else that might cause you to feel this way, unless you're lying." Roach tilted his head so he could see Simon's reaction. His punches stopped coming and he just stood there, his hands dropped to his sides.
"She… she didn't say anything… but she distances herself to John while I'm around."
"John MacTavish or John Price?" Gary interrupted, in an attempt to brighten up the mood, but instead all he got was Simon's 'are-you-kidding-me-right-now?' look.
"But when I'm not around, she finds time to see him…" Simon continued. Gary took off his gloves and tapped his shoulder.
"She… she was being considerate." Simon concluded. It looked like Gary did his job. He could feel Simon's shoulders relax upon realizing what was actually going on.
"Despite all that… she sacrificed a little just to not hurt you." Gary added, he had no intention of making Simon guilty but now that he realized it, he was making an impact toward the relationship that was blooming between Soap and France.
"Thanks, Gary. For being a great friend…" Ghost took off his gloves and walked out of the gym.
"... and the worst therapist." He joked with a grin as he walked up the stairs and left Gary in the gym.
"I hope you find your peace, Simon." Gary muttered.
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The following morning, the team was already busy walking around the house. Soap was on the phone with a long list of things the girls ordered for their restock. It was planned that for the time being, the team was to stay in the MacTavish residence while Nero and Shepherd were off the grid.
Price and Jack started their own little command center inside Soap's father's office just by the living room. They began creating connections to their closest contacts to track activity from their enemies. Ghost seemed to be not around at the moment and Gary guessed he's still asleep.
Soap nodded a greeting to Roach as he walked by him on his way to the kitchen. Maxine and France were out opening drawers and anything in the pantry to clear up space for supplies. From the kitchen window, Gary spotted Samantha, Alex and Nikolai in front of a truck. Gary overheard that Nikolai wanted to go back home and he guessed today was the day he'd do so.
"I didn't know what kind of sugar you needed so I kinda ordered a bunch of em." Soap announced to the sisters and they laughed.
"The clerk kept asking me of brown, white, confectioners and some other and honestly I don't know which." he shrugged and scratched his head.
"Hey man, I was just wondering… why did you choose the risky life? When you had everything you ever needed here?" Gary asked the question that has been bothering him since he got here.
"I dunno Roach. It's just that I knew it was calling out to me… You also sound like my Mum when I told her I'm joining the force." he chuckled. Gary just nodded but still didn't understand his logic. But he dismissed the thought as soon as Maxine and France asked for his help reaching something by the cabinets.
The rest of the day was busy. Once supplies arrived, everyone else was preoccupied. Lifting boxes, arranging items, looking for intel. It was like they made their own 141 base inside the house.
By the time they're almost free, Roach and Maxine were already in the kitchen preparing for dinner.
"So, any new dreams lately?" Roach initiated as he sliced through the vegetables they're cooking.
"Piece by piece. Last night I remembered having gum stuck on my hair on picture day. I cried a lot." she giggled. Roach smiled, he was glad she's getting her memories back which made him remember of Samantha's case.
"Ow!" Gary winced as he accidentally cut a short scrape on his thumb. He was so busy staring at Maxine that he forgot he was chopping.
"Don't worry. It's just a small wound." Gary assured as Maxine pulled his thumb close to her mouth and blew air through it, just like when you're a kid and you do that to ease the pain.
Gary couldn't help but smile at her immediate action. She also looked concerned and worried about his welfare.
"Hey Max." he whispered, making the girl turn to him, her face was so beautiful in Gary's eyes.
"Is there something wrong?"
"Nothing… It's just that…"
"What is it? You're making me worried"
"I really really like you, Maxine Winters."
Maxine looked at him in the eye, the eye contact they were doing was starting to make the world fade behind them.
"Guys! I have bad news." Soap interrupted, causing everyone to form a small circle by the living room.
"Ghost left. With a note saying he'll try to gather more information on Shadow Company with Alexandra's help. He says thanks and that he'll see us all soon." Soap summarized the note. The room fell silent.
Next Chapter : Off the Grid
Notification Squad my Beloved
@samatedeansbroccoli @enderio @smokeywhalee @whimsywispsblog @beemybee @ricinbach
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molkolsdal · 3 years
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Pakistan's Transgender Community Is Hiding Out in a Hostile City
As Peshawar has come under increasing sway of an extremist view of Islam, its community of transgender hijras has been increasingly marginalized.
By Beenish Ahmed, 16/05/2014 Photos by Abdul Majeed Goraya
"My father used to beat me and ask, 'Why do you have to go around pretending to be a girl?'"
Now at 35, she says her cheeks burn and fists tighten if anyone refers to her as a man.
Khushboo, whose name means fragrance, classifies herself as a hijra, a South Asian gender designation that encompasses transgender and transexual people, as well as transvestites and eunuchs.
She has a different definition for herself and the estimated hundreds of thousands of other hijras across the region. "Our souls are female and our bodies are male," she says, dipping a rag into a red plastic pail filled with a chalky mixture of water and face powder. Surrounded by a group of several other hijras in a room they call their "office," Khushboo smears the dripping rag over her face and adds, "I've known I was a hijra since I was a child."
She used to wear her sisters' clothes. At 16, Khushboo slipped out of the house in one of their outfits and didn't return home for years. Along with another hijra, she settled in Peshawar, a city in northwestern Pakistan one night's drive from the costal city of Karachi where she'd grown up.
Peshawar has long been home to cultural traditions that insist on strict gender segregation, and the city has come under increasing sway of an extremist view of Islam in recent years. These intolerant, conservative beliefs are made brutally clear through the bombings and shootings that are now near-weekly occurrences. Taliban suicide bombers killed 85 worshippers at a church there last September, and militants killed thirteen people at a cinema showing pornographic movies in February. Lesser attacks are momentary blips on local news coverage featuring bloodied streets and blaring sirens.
Khushboo points to battered doors and broken windows around her. She says young men—"college boys" she calls them—wreak havoc on her and fellow hijras who are preparing for a dance performance later that night. Sometimes the men recite scripture and beat the hijras to shame them out of their profession as dancers, and other times they force them to dance or even rape them, she tells me.
Despite the extremism that has only further marred the city since her arrival nearly 20 years ago, Khushboo has an affinity for Peshawar because it's where she had a sort of rebirth as her new self.
Free from the abuse of her father and brothers, as well as the sense of dishonor she felt on behalf of her mother and sisters, Khushboo embraced a new life of openness—and was adopted into a new family.
"In this field we have mothers. We have gurus. We have uncles and aunts," she says, and then points to a girl who's rolling a spliff in the corner of the room. "She's my daughter. I'm a daughter of someone so she has a grandmother too. And," Khushboo adds, "She also has a father."
That last bit comes so quickly that I almost miss it. I inquire further about the girl's "papa" and Khushboo says, "Her father is married to someone else, but he loves me." She then goes on to explain what their relationship entails—and it's all very practical until it gets utterly tragic: "If I'm sick, he comes by and brings me medicine," she says proudly. "If I don't have money he drops some cash off. If I die, it's this man who will dress me up as a man and take my body to his house to carry out the cemetery. He might not explain the full story and just say that I was killed in the market or that there was some kind of shooting, but he's the one who will take care of the funeral."
I can't help but think that this grim possibility is one that Khushboo has discussed with her "husband"—and one that he too has come to terms with.
"In Pakistani society, there is a really strong [sense of] place and family," says Dr. Jamil Ahmad Chitrali, a professor of anthropology. "There is no alternative for anyone."
Based at the University of Peshawar, Chitrali has written about the city's hijra community. He says that by forging the same sorts of familial connections that they left behind, hijras create a social order that mimics the very society from which many of them fled.
"It's forcing all those revolutionary individuals who are against those binaries of man and woman to come into a structure which is reaffirming patriarchy," he says.
Pakistan's hijras have made some strides in recent years despite their rather isolated existence. In 2012, the Pakistani Supreme Court allowed for a "third gender" category to be added to national identity cards, which effectively gave hijras increased legal standing. It's because of this broader recognition that hijras could vote in that year's presidential election—at least five hijras even ran for office.
But the third gender classification has made little practical difference in Khusbhoo's life. "We live in a third world," she says, the difference between her life and that of a cisgender person just as stark as the difference between life in Pakistan, and say, Monaco.
And, she says, no matter what she does, she'll always be seen as different.
"Even if I give up dancing, everyone will still call me a hijra so what's the point? Why not do what I love?" She adds that even if she were to become a traveling evangelist, her family would still regard her with the same disdain. "I'm better off staying a hijra."
And that's the hardest thing that Khushboo has to face: her family. She got back in touch with them after five years of not speaking, and goes to see them in Karachi at least once a year. But when she does, she goes dressed as a man.
Though she moves about as a woman in Peshawar, Khushboo wears a black floor length, full-sleeved robe (or abaya), and a face covering (or niqab) that reveals only her eyes to hide herself from prying eyes. Even so, she's been thrown out of several houses by people who fear hijras will ruin their neighborhood.
While they occupy a marginalized space across Pakistan, hijras are probably worst off in Peshawar. In all of the other major cities in the country, they are frequent sites at traffic intersections or in shopping centers where they offer a prayer for a few rupees. Many passersby fear denying them might mean a curse and so will either oblige quickly or turn away completely.
I've spent a lot of time in Peshawar over the years, and have never seen hijras out in public the way they are in other cities. After speaking with Professor Chitrali, I learned that might be because hijras have a different role in the Pathan society that dominates the Peshawar area. In this part of the country, hijras aren't seen to have some sort of greater spiritual connection than cisgender people—instead, their role is celebratory. They're often asked to sing and dance at weddings and births.
"It's their performance which gives [a family] social recognition," Chitrali says, though the tradition is fading as weddings move from family houses into wedding halls. Some might have other professions—Khushboo says she has hijra friends who are lawyers and pilots and act cisgender in order to maintain their jobs, though they're free to "be themselves" with her and other hijras. Due to a lack of societal acceptance, many hijras live marginalized lives as low-income entertainers, but they've got a bit of a role as educators, too. Hijras sometimes teach—or even initiate—young men into sex. For many in Peshawar who live by strict religious and cultural codes that denounce almost any pre-marital interaction between the sexes as sinful, hijras provide a sort of in-between, or a "cushion," as Chitrali calls it.
"If you cross the domain of manhood into womanhood, that is against the culture, that is crossing your limits. But you can always move into the gray area, so this hijra community, in that sense, in a clear binary of man and woman among Pathans, [forms] a gray area." But he says that this "learning experience" is becoming less common with such how-to's readily available on the internet.
In Peshawar's increasingly religiously-motivated milieu, the presence of hijras—be they dancers or sex workers—is frowned upon and politicians vie for favor by pushing them out of their homes and worksites.
Seeing this, Malik Iqbal says he wanted to do something. "I sympathize with them because no one gives them any space," he tells me.
He rents out the office that Khusboo and her fellow hijras use to prepare for their dances.
"I didn't used to be on their side," Iqbal says. "Now I help them. I say they're humans too. We should have some empathy for that reason. Not just me, everyone should empathize with them as people."
But some believe Iqbal's connection to hijras goes beyond a shared humanity. Though he refuses to speak about it, Iqbal was arrested in 2010 for attempting to marry a hijra called Rani. Such a union would be illegal under Pakistani law, which only recognizes marriages between men and women. He has repeatedly denied the charge and claimed that police were trying to extort money from hijras at an event that wasn't a marriage but an innocent birthday party. Either way, the shock the story garnered reveals just how far removed everyday Pakistanis are from the hijra community. A big-grossing film called Bol, or Speak—released in 2011—may have helped some, but real connections like Iqbal's remain few.
And not everyone in close proximity to hirjas is sympathetic. Noor Illahi, who owns a grain shop down the street from the hijras' office, doesn't have a problem with the hijras themselves or even their work, but thinks they should find some other place to go. "My work has suffered because of them. The other storeowners and I, we think they should be given some place off to the side. It should be separate."
He's worked in his store for 15 years and says that sales have dropped fifty percent since the hijras set up shop next door a few years ago. "There are a lot of fights here now. They create quite a scene sometimes."
The raucousness has driven away his customers. Those who stop in the area are more interested in the hijras than the sacks of flour he has for sale.
"I'm not personally offended by them. But look," he says, pointing to a group of several white shalwar kameez-clad men loitering outside the hijra's building. "These poor people have earned just three or four hundred rupees all day ($3-4) and they'll come here and waste it all on them."
The men are all rickshaw drivers. One by one, they go on the record to deny being there to solicit sex. "We're just here to chit chat with them," one says while peering over his shoulder to see if any of the hijras have come out into the alley. "It's a totally innocent relationship that we have with them."
Back up in the hijras' office, the lights have gone out as a part of the rolling power outages that have frustrated Pakistanis for years. It might be another hour before they're ready to leave for their performance. When they do, they'll be cloaked in massive shawls and under the cover of night.
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t4tlawlight · 4 years
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Parentification of a child happens when the parent and child roles are reversed. This can take the form of instrumental parentification, where the child performs physical tasks that should be the parent’s responsibility. This can be things like paying bills, performing chores that are not age appropriate/undertaking all the chores in the household, or being the primary caregiver for younger siblings. These responsibilities mean there is no time to be a child or have any aspirations. Many children who are the victim of instrumental parentification are deprived of opportunities to have a better life, such as education.
-- “I Was a Parentified Daughter”
in the beginning, drama light is exactly the same as manga light. we see him as a young boy, brilliant, planning on becoming a member of the NPA just like his father.
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[photo 1: a dimly lit screenshot of light yagami as a child talking into a yellow toy walkie-talkie. his dark hair is a bit past his ears. he is wearing a red, white and blue plaid shirt. light is saying, "I caught sight of the culprit!" photo 2: soichiro yagami is crouching on the stairs. the lighting is shining from behind him, and we can see his face through slots in the railing. he is also talking into a walkie-talkie, saying "Got it, Light. Storm the place."]
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[photo 3: soichiro again talking into a walkie-talkie. he is no longer on the stairs, but it's difficult to tell where he is inside the house. he is wearing a green, yellow, and white striped polo(?) and saying, "You can't join the police if you're afraid." photo 4: light as a child still, brandishing a plastic black and orange toy pistol. he's saying, "Roger, I'm going in." into the walkie-talkie.]
-- Episode 1
the light we see in the series proper, however, is not the same as manga light. he’s gentle, and sensitive, and anxious. he suffers from panic attack after panic attack. there’s a misconception that he’s the “dumb” light, which frankly isn’t true.
the difference between them is the death of Light’s mother when he was young. his father was working on a case and refused to come to his ailing wife’s bedside, presumably assuming that she would be fine, so light and sayu were alone with sachiko as she passed.
Policeman: We got a call from the hospital. Your wife’s in critical condition. Soichiro: No, Otoharada takes priority. I’ll go to the hospital later.
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[photo 1: a nearly empty hospital room. there are no decorations or well-wishing gifts or cards in the space, just a seemingly bare white cabinet against the wall, a matching nightstand beside the hospital bed, and a pale blue privacy screen off to the side. there is a body (sachiko yagami) under the white hospital sheets; her face is covered with a napkin. child light and his sister, still a toddler, are sitting beside her bed, distraught. soichiro yagami has just entered the room and is looking at the scene with his back facing the camera. photo 2: child light, wearing an unbuttoned black and white plaid short-sleeve flannel over a graphic tee. he is shouting at his father, saying, "I called and I called! Why didn't you come right away?"]  
-- Episode 1
it clearly traumatized light, if not sayu. she later says that he and his father have been distant ever since then.
Sayu: He’s acting really weird. Soichiro: How so? Sayu: I mean, he never worries about you. It’s creepy. Soichiro: That’s not creepy. Sayu: Yeah, it is! You know he’s been cold to you ever since the thing with mom.
-- Episode 2
as a result of this, drama light grew up very different from manga light--manga light is likely upper middle class, given that he can afford to toss away expensive mini tv sets, whereas we can see the yagami family in the drama struggling financially. light gets on sayu about not using electricity to save money:
Light [about the television]: If you’re not gonna watch it, turn it off. You’re running up our electricity bill.
-- Episode 1
drama light simply does not get the same opportunities as manga light. he goes to a just-decent economics college instead of working towards the prestige of To-Oh simply because he cannot afford it.
Light’s boss: Yagami-kun, you want a public sector job? Light: Well, job security. There’s no risk of them running out of business.  Light’s boss: Don’t you have any ambition? Like hitting it big and getting rich? Light: Once you get greedy, there’s no end.
-- Episode 1
but also because of the second change, which is that his father's emotional absence and distance when light needed him most (both as and after his mother’s death) resulted in light shunning his father's line of work entirely; while he still grows up with his father's morals and sense of justice, he has no desire anymore to act upon them.
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[photo 1: light's bedroom, where there are so many decorations and personal items it makes the room look very busy. there's a large window along the wall behind soichiro and light. the lighting tints everything almost a blue color behind light, who is sitting at his desk, head turned a bit to soichiro. soichiro is in the doorway, staring at light's back. light is saying, "I'm hoping to get into the local ward office." photo 2: same setting, but now light is looking away from his father. he is saying, "Even if that's wrong, I don't plan to join the police."]
-- Episode 1
L: Does your son want to join the police? Soichiro: No. Light doesn’t have a good impression of my job. 
-- Episode 2
Soichiro: When you were a child, you wanted to become a police officer, didn’t you? But when your mother died, you stopped saying you wanted to join the police. It was watching me that killed your desire to become a police officer, right?
-- Episode 6
furthermore, because he's blatantly depressed, he wants nothing more than to enter the public service and gain some sense of stability in his life
Light [internally]: You can invest your life in something and it might make you money, but it won’t necessarily make you happy.
Light [internally]: As long as I can feed myself and spend my days in peace and stability, that’s all I need.
-- Episode 1
most importantly, when sachiko died, soichiro refused any of the responsibilities of a mother. he was very emotionally closed off and distant, choosing instead to throw himself even farther into his job and leave his children alone in their grief.
Soichiro: You wanted me to realize you were suffering alone. That’s what you tried to tell me, wasn’t it? If I had noticed your cries for help earlier... Your lies... Your suffering... If only I had noticed then.
-- Episode 10
instead, light is the one forced to become the “mother” of the family, so to speak, taking on both the emotional responsibilities of managing both his and his sister’s grief and raising her, as well as the associated household tasks--feeding them, cooking for them, working to put food on the table, fretting about bills, and so on.
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[photo 1: sayu yagami, now a teenager presumably in high school. her hair is just past her shoulders. she is wearing a pastel purple top and cropped light blue skinny jeans. she sits on the living room couch with her knees to her chest, smart phone dangling in her hands as she turns her head, calling to light: "Hey, I'm hungry." photo 2: light's bedroom. light is jumping up from his desk in surprise, turning to face sayu, who has entered his bedroom without warning. she is wearing her school uniform. she's asking, "Hey, where's breakfast?"]
-- Episode 1
he's very maternal having to practically raise sayu from a very young age and it results in a very caring, gentle man. on top of his depression, disillusionment with soichiro’s job, and lower social class, he never has the opportunity to be a genius like manga light because he’s busy taking care of his family--he’s more occupied with seeking stability than getting ahead and playing a genius, even if he’s smart enough that he could have, in another life.
Kamoda: You’ve always beaten me on grades. You could aim a bit higher if you worked at it. Light: No thanks. No thanks.
-- Episode 1
to be clear, all of these are huge red flags for drama light suffering from parentification--specifically, instrumental parentification. i’m sure you all read the introductory quote, but here is some information on the phenomenon:
Parentification is the process of role reversal whereby a child is obliged to act as parent to their own parent or sibling. Instrumental parentification involves the child completing physical tasks for the family, such as looking after a sick relative, paying bills, or providing assistance to younger siblings that would normally be provided by a parent.
The almost inevitable byproduct of parentification is losing one's own childhood. In destructive parentification, the child in question takes on excessive responsibility in the family, without their caretaking being acknowledged and supported by others: by adopting the role of parental care-giver, the child loses their real place in the family unit and is left lonely and unsure. In extreme instances, there may be what has been called a kind of disembodiment, a narcissistic wound that threatens one's basic self-identity.
All results of parentification are negative. There are no positive byproducts; the 'maturity' and 'emotional resilience' are directly linked to their underlying anxiety and displacement in the family dynamic.
we see light acting as a parent to sayu--cooking, cleaning, working, practically raising sayu on his own while soichiro is practically out of the picture. he receives no praise for this from either his sister or his father, who take it for granted or complain to him when he doesn’t. and as many children who are forced to do so, light is left depressed, devoid of aspirations, and displaced.
the name of this meta and the graphic used to represent it is maslow’s hierarchy of needs. if you’re unfamiliar, there’s a good explanation of it at verywellmind (which i cannot link), and i bring it up because drama light and manga light fall into very different categories. manga light has made it all the way through esteem, and is currently working on his self-actualization throughout the story of Death Note:
"It may be loosely described as the full use and exploitation of talents, capabilities, potentialities, etc. Such people seem to be fulfilling themselves and to be doing the best that they are capable of doing... They are people who have developed or are developing to the full stature of which they capable."
Self-actualizing people are self-aware, concerned with personal growth, less concerned with the opinions of others, and interested in fulfilling their potential.
drama light, on the other hand, has barely even broached his social needs. his place on the pyramid is “love and belonging”--he has love, from his friend kamoda, and from sayu, even if she doesn’t appreciate him--but his relationship with his father is strained and his mother is gone, and his parentification has left him feeling out of place.
it’s these relationships, though, that are the core of why he begins using the death note to begin with. 
immediately before light gets the note, he’s working and talking with his wealthier friend kamoda, who was targeted throughout their lives by a delinquent named sakota who extorted money from kamoda through physical violence. we’re shown a younger light in high school watching this violence, incapable of helping his friend. sakota is released from prison in the first episode and immediately finds light and kamoda again, extorting money from kamoda at knifepoint.
kamoda responds like this:
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[photo 1: light, as an adult, standing outside. it's night, the lighting is dim. he is scowling at sakota, who is out of view. light's internal thoughts are split between these two images. the first reads "I wish guys like him--" and the second reads, "--would just go away forever."
photo 2: light's close friend kamoda, curling in on himself in fear. his fingers are laced together and he's holding his arms to his chest, cowering. he looks afraid. he is wearing a long sleeve blue shirt and an orange backpack.]
-- Episode 1
it’s moments after this, when light is walking home, that he finds the note. he writes sakota’s name not because he’s bored, like his manga counterpart; he does it because he internalizes kamoda’s words and because both he and his best friend were threatened at knifepoint by him. even then, drama light has second thoughts, attempting to erase and then scratch out the name.
when it works, light is utterly horrified, overhearing about sakota’s heart attack while eavesdropping on his wake. he nearly has a panic attack until, once again, he hears how people respond:
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[ photo 1: a public setting, in front of a funeral home. sakota's funeral has just finished. it is still daylight out. two young men in black suits have come out from the funeral home and are walking down the sidewalk. one of them asks, "Sakota did nothing but make trouble for people when he was alive, right?" light is hiding behind shrubs and a tree on the other side of the sidewalk, crouching and covering his mouth. photo 2: a close up screenshot of a hand holding a smart phone. it appears to be viewing a group chat of some kind, and multiple people are messaging it and talking about sakota's death in japanese. there are several messages that contain "WWWW" which is the japanese equivalent for "lol". one of the young men from the previous picture is saying, "Deep down, they're all relieved he's dead."]
-- Episode 1
at this point, though, light is still horrified. he wants to believe it’s fake, so he throws the note in the trash and attempts to dump it. unlike manga light, who feels the need to test it and dismiss any lingering doubts that he may have unintentionally murdered a man, drama light would rather put it out of his mind entirely.
obviously, sakota is very different from manga light’s first murder, and that’s because in the tv drama the first two murders are switched. sakota, who has a heart attack on his motorcycle, is intended to be the man manga light killed at the convenience store for sexually harassing a woman. the second murder in the tv drama is otoharada kuro, the man holding an elementary school hostage, and in this adaptation he also has a personal connection to the family: the case that soichiro was on when sachiko died was otoharada’s original arrest.
in the tv drama, otoharada takes an elementary schooler and her mother hostage in order to exchange her for soichiro himself, who he blames for his original arrest. light hears about this from matsuda, and for the third time, his sister responds like this:
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[photo: a large room with several wide windows streaming light into it through white blinds. there are three rows of long desks, two chairs at each, similar to a classroom. police officers and detectives are buzzing around; some are going through files and paperwork frantically. sayu and light are in the far back on a bench against the wall. light is sitting, hands folded in his lap, as he watches his sister. sayu is standing, wearing her school uniform of a blouse, tie, and plaid skirt. she is shouting, "Just kill that scum and save my dad already!"]
-- Episode 1
light returns home and uses the note for the second time in order to save his father, who light still respects and craves the approval and emotional support of even despite their distance.
at the point of his second murder, manga light has a breakdown before almost immediately compartmentalizes his guilt and doubling down on the idea that he can do no wrong because he's been told he can't his entire life. for the first week until ryuk arrives he begins killing people in earnest, whereas drama light is deeply and profoundly horrified.
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[ photo 1: a mid-chest and upwards shot of light. he is in his bedroom, looking down at the floor. he is wearing an open plaid shirt over a tee shirt. the subtitles for his internal thoughts say, "I would have been happy...just letting the days pass by uneventfully..." photo 2: a close up shot of light's face. he is wide-eyed, dragging his left hand down his cheek and staring at his right. in horror, he is saying, "I killed them."]
-- Episode 1
he ultimately ends up fleeing to a rooftop in the city and attempting to throw himself off of it before being talked out of it by ryuk. ryuk tells him that he can take the note back and erase light’s memories of it--which light nearly accepts--before mentioning that if light didn't want it, he'd give it to someone else, potentially a criminal who could do terrible things with it.
Ryuk: What if a real bastard like those guys you killed, Otoharada or Sakota, picked up that notebook? Light: No! Ryuk: The person who picks up the Death Note gets to decide how they use it.
-- Episode 1
so light takes the note.
what happens after this has been summed up by tumblr user whoresband in their post about drama light (which i can’t link due to tumblr not letting this post appear in the search but i’ll link the relevant portions and you can look it up):
when he gets the death note, he gains a power that was unavailable to him as a child. it was initially his sense of responsibility to his family and his caring nature that drove him to use it, but it was that promise of power that made him keep using it. as the series progresses, light begins to change. he tells sayu to cook for herself, to wash her own clothes. he demands a seat with his father, and sayu pours him a beer just like she did for their father. he stops being kind to misa and begins to use her as a tool for his plans. he manipulates women in his path, consistently viewing them as tools and neglecting their humanity. the death note has given him access to manhood and the freedom that it provides that he was denied by taking on the role of his mother. the death note teaches him that masculinity holds power, and he gladly takes hold of it. 
i’m not going to reinvent the wheel and just restate what this person has said, because it’s spot on, but i will provide examples--
he tells sayu to cook for herself...
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[photo: light is in the yagami household, but it's difficult to say which room. the lighting is dim and it's difficult to see much of his outfit or eyes. he is saying to sayu, "Cook for yourself for once. I'm tired."]
-- Episode 1
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[photo: light, sayu, and soichiro are all in their dining room. it is very busy-looking; it's full of furniture which is lined with knick knacks and thriving green potted plants. soichiro is wearing his work clothes, including a white dress shirt, and he's sitting at the table watching his children. sayu is standing between soichiro and light, with her hands on the chair next to the table. we cannot see her face, as it is turned to light, who is in the doorway. he is wearing a sort sleeved button up, unbuttoned, with a tee shirt and jeans. we can see the strap of a shoulder bag across his chest. light is saying to sayu, "Cook for yourself, for once."]
  -- Episode 2
..to wash her own clothes.
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[photo 1: light and ryuk in light's bedroom, both facing sayu, who is offscreen. light is sitting at his desk, looking anxious. the shinigami ryuk is looking over him, wearing a sinister grin and wearing all black. light is saying to sayu, "Then... wash it yourself."]
-- Episode 1
...he demands a seat with his father...
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[ photo: a blurry screenshot of light from the shoulders up. he is saying, "Maybe I'll have a drink."]
-- Episode 2
...and sayu pours him a beer just like she did for their father.
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[photo 1: a shot of soichiro from the mid-chest up. he is wearing his white work shirt and rectangular, black glasses. he looks surprised, mouth slightly agape. he is looking at light and sayu, offscreen. light is saying, "Sayu, can I have a cup?" photo 2: the yagami family in their dining room. soichiro is sitting at the table on the viewer's right in his work shirt. one of his hands is reaching for a beer, and his other arm is resting on the chair beside him. light sits across from him on the viewer's left. sayu stands between them. she is saying, "That's unusual. Here."]
-- Episode 2
he stops being kind to misa and begins to use her as a tool for his plans 
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[photo: a closeup of light's face. he looks very serious, speaking to misa. we can only see the back of her head. light is telling her, "If I think you might tell them about me, I'm writing your name in my Death Note."]
-- Episode 4
he manipulates women in his path, consistently viewing them as tools and neglecting their humanity. 
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photo 1: a very close screenshot of Light's handwriting in the death note. in english, he's written, "Halle Lidner". below her name is some japanese handwriting. Light reads, “After coming to an underground parking lot in Yaehashi and giving the Death Note to a man waiting there,”]
-- Episode 10
but this isn’t the only option light yagami is offered. you may have noticed i went this entire post without mentioning the other major player in the tv drama: L. 
a large part of what drives light to ambition isn’t just receiving the note and gaining power, especially when his memories are gone and he lacks that foundation; it’s his rivalry--and then, briefly, friendship--with L. L drives him to do better, both when he’s on the opposite team and when they’re on the same one.
unfortunately, this post is getting long and in order to do the next part justice, i need to flesh out drama L and his motivations a bit more, so i’ll be posting him as a standalone post in the coming days. it’ll cover his character development in the tv drama and how he affects light in turn up until the end.
if you liked this analysis i highly recommend checking it out HERE! thanks for reading!
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collectsfallenstars · 4 years
Text
The First Time They Saw Each Other, Really Saw Each Other
*Kim GoEun x Lee Minho Fanfiction **Based on an interview where they were asked what their lasting impressions of each other were.  LMH answered it was their first scene together in the BBQ Chicken restaurant and KGE answered it was seeing LMH at Gwanghwamun Square. Also included in this fic is their time in the BIFAN Awards 2015 when they barely knew each other.
The first time he saw her at the Bucheon International Fantastic Film Festival in 2015, he didn't even recognize her. Stage lights and camera flashes had turned her sleek white dress almost into a sunbeam and he found it hard to look. But then he also found it hard not to look as her left leg peeked through an almost dangerous but still tasteful slit up her thigh as she walked to her seat. She moved with an almost easy sensuality, as if she wasn't even aware of it, and it contrasted so much with the bashful way she kept her eyes on the ground, bowing slightly to every person she passed by. He remembered clocking her as, "Cute. Must be a new actress, " and then turning to speak to the person who had tapped on him on his right shoulder. She had ended up sitting two seats away from him. And that was that.
Halfway through the awards show, he was startled almost out of his seat when they announced Kim GoEun as the recipient of the Special Mention for the Best Actress Category for "Chinatown", and the girl he had marked as "cute new actress" started getting up from her seat. He had seen "Chinatown" with his friends a few months ago and he could clearly remember the young teenager who had played the feral little debt collector/killer. Her performance had looked so effortlessly intuitive and he could clearly recall how he even told one of his friends that the kid was going to go places someday.
He leaned forward, turned his head and tried to stare at her as discreetly as possible. He couldn't comprehend how she had gone from that little ragamuffin in "Chinatown" to this beautiful young woman. As an actor, he should have been used the transformation that actors and actresses go through when occupying a role but hers was just extraordinary. He was at awe and just a little bit intimidated with what she had achieved in such a short time. He made a mental note to look up her work and watch them in his off time.
People around them had started congratulating her and he could see a little flush creeping sweetly up her round cheeks. And when she glanced over at his direction, her eyes met his briefly and he had smiled at her, trying wordlessly to convey how amazing he thought she was in her movie. But then she had quickly looked away and smiled at the ground. It was almost endearing how she had tucked errant strands of her hair behind her ear before gathering her dress so she could walk up to the stage.
He could also, very clearly, remember the flash of heat that ran up spine when she had turned to face the stage and he saw the back of her dress. There was none. Well, there was, but it looked like someone had cut it out to make way for her angel wings. The delicate line of her spine was exposed, flanked on both sides by her shoulder blades where her angel wings could have been and it continued down her back until the sweet curve of the bottom of her spine had thankfully disappeared back under fabric once more. He swallowed hard, crossed his legs, and attributed the heat to the stage lights.
So 4 years later when his sister had told him that after his military service, he was going to be at helm of a Kim EunSook drama with Kim GoEun as his leading lady, his entire being had buzzed with electricity. EunGyo. HongYi. IlYoung. Hong Seol. Ji EunTak. He had seen them all and he wondered what it would be like to see all those characters collapsed into a single existence when he meets her again, for the first time.
The first time she saw him, she didn't see him at all. Back in college after finishing "Eungyo," she was just a normal student enjoying normal everyday things like going out for barbecue, chicken, beer, movies, and the occasional tv drama. "The Heirs" had created such a huge buzz in 2013 that she had felt compelled to watch it.
And that's when she saw him, Kim Tan, golden and glorious under the California sun on the opening credits of "The Heirs." It was almost embarrassing how quickly her face had heated up after only a few seconds of watching him surf. She had always loved the beach, that was for sure. But she had never seen Kim Tan on a surfboard in the beaches she had gone to. Droplets of ocean water hanging from the tips of hair falling over his forehead, eyelashes, nose and lips were all it took for Kim GoEun to understand why Lee Minho was in a league all on his own when it came to star quality.
But he was never Lee MinHo to her. He was Kim Tan, the California surfer. Kim Tan, the lonely misunderstood heir who would fight to the bitter end to keep his love. Kim Tan, who stole kisses with a donut. Kim Tan, who opens his arms wide and closes them around his girl and makes her feel like no one else in the world mattered. He was, quite possibly, the biggest crush of her entire young life.
So when only a few years later at the Bucheon International Fantastic Film Festival in 2015, she had been seated two people away from him, she hadn't known what to do with herself. She knows she was there for two awards but she can only remember staring at the floor and trying very hard not to look over to her right because her Kim Tan was there. She was there as an actress so she should at least try to act like one and not some tween with a big crush. And she had been good, managing to avoid openly staring at him by avoiding eye contact with absolutely everyone.
But when they called her name onstage and everyone around her had started to congratulate her, it had been impossible not to look. She chanced a glance at him when someone on her right side had murmured congratulations. She could swear their eyes met for the briefest of moments but she couldn't be too sure. She had felt her face heating up from embarrassment and had to turn away before he could notice. Not that he would actually be looking at her but mostly for her own dignity and self-preservation.
She doesn't remember how she got up the stage but she did. She was proud of the work she had done, she was. Four movies as a main character was no easy feat. But this night will forever remain in her mind as the night she first saw Kim Tan.
But the first time she met Lee Minho was a different story altogether.
She was older at 29 years old, no longer the blushing college girl who was unsure as to what path to take. She had thrown herself into acting, embracing her path at full throttle because if there was one thing that passing of her beloved grandmother had taught her, it was that she only had one life to live. So when she had been offered the unconventional role of Lt. Jeong TaeEul, a blunt, pragmatic detective who falls in love with a monarch from a parallel universe, she didn't even think twice before saying yes to Kim EunSook, the woman who had given her the bright loving light of Ji EunTak. And when she was told that the monarch she would fall in love with was Lee MinHo, she merely threw her head back and laughed heartily, remembering the silliness of her early years in the business. She was different now.
And so, when the main cast had gathered together in Kim EunSook's office on day in July of 2019 and she had taken the opportunity to get to know them a little bit. She knew she was going to miss the first Table Reading as she had not yet wrapped up with the filming of her musical, "Hero." It had been easy to spot his tall handsome form, even from the corner of the room.
"Sunbaenim!" she cried as she rushed over to him, bowing and shaking his hand while smiling brightly up at him. "Kim Tan the handsome heir, I finally meet you! I had the biggest crush on Kim Tan when I was 22! I'm your fan! Thank you for making my dream come true!" Then she gave him two thumbs up and started shaking them near her face.
Lee MinHo had burst out laughing at her dorky but nonetheless adorable introduction. He had a strange laugh, Goeun thought, but liked the sound of it anyway. It was the kind of laughter that started in the belly and knocked around in the chest, his whole body shaking in an effort to contain it. She liked his kind of laughter, she decided as she craned her head up to look at him.
When his laughter had subsided, his hand went up to wipe some of the tears that had formed in the corners of his eyes and caught the edge of the black baseball cap she had worn that day. It tumbled out of her head and fell to the floor. But before she could even bend to pick it up, he touched her gently on the shoulder and shook his head a little. Then he crouched low, swiftly snatched her black ball cap from the ground and got up.
She held her hands out to receive it but to her surprise, he brushed off whatever dirt it caught from the floor and placed her ball cap back on her head. It slid on easily but she could still feel how his hands made sure it was snug. Then he placed his hands on her shoulders, bent a little to look at his handiwork. She found herself turning her face up to let him see it was okay. He really, really had the most beautiful pair of deep-set brown eyes. Seeing them up close caused a little riot in her but she held it together.
Then he caught a few strands of her hair that was flattened against the left side of her face and smoothed it behind the delicate shell of her ear.
"There, perfect."
Then, a megawatt smile.
And 29 year old Kim GoEun felt like someone had tugged her heart back into her 22 year old self.
"Ah, I'm afraid the Kim Tan you know is old now," he said ruefully, his eyes holding a little bit of his earlier laughter. "I don't think it's your dream that came true though. I believe it was mine, GoEunsshi. I have wanted to work with your for a long time now."
With great effort, she tugged her heart back to her 29 year old self and forced her pulse to stop ringing in her ears. She had prepared for her role as thoroughly as she always did. But she hadn't prepared for this, for him being like...this. How did his co-stars not fall at his feet all the time? No one had warned her that he would be this effortlessly magnetic. How was she going to last 7 or 8 months of the onslaught of his charm without making a fool of herself?
She smiled back at him, told him, insisted actually, that it really was more her dream that came true. But in her head, she ran a mantra that would be her armor for the long months to come, "A smile is just a smile. It does not mean more. Do not want more." With that, she gave one last bow to him and flitted off to Woo DoHwan. And that was the last that Lee Minho would see of Kim GoEun for the next few months.
It was November when he finally saw her again.
He had arrived at the set a good 30 minutes before shooting began. It was a booth tucked away in one corner of a BBQ Chicken branch, right against a glass wall. He took his seat and tried to settle his racing mind. On hindsight, it had probably not been a good idea to marathon all her movies and her two dramas before this first shoot. Watching Kim GoEun's growth on film and tv had only driven home the point that she was out of his league.
He had never been an insecure actor. He just knew his strengths and used them to his advantage. He also knew what he lacked and had tried his hardest to make up for them. And if he couldn't, he would avoid putting himself in a situation where he would be forced to show a weak hand. But after watching Kim GoEun work with legends like Lee ByungHun, Jeon DoYeon, Kim HyeSoo, and Gong Yoo, he had come to the conclusion that he had absolutely nothing to offer her that she hadn't gotten before from all the other actors she had worked with.
So he sat there in BBQ Chicken, fiddling with his thumbs in trepidation. And then, almost as if by gravity, his head turned to the side and through the glass wall, he saw her white van roll to a stop out on the street. She stepped out, her gait light. She had been made to wear outfits that seemed to swallow her up, tennis shoes, baggy jeans, loose fitting black polo shirt, and topped by a long moss green winter coat.
But for all her character's visual heaviness, her delicate round face looked lit from the inside with the light of a thousands stars. He had seen this light on her when she was Ji EunTak and couldn't comprehend where she had hidden it when she was IlYoung. He watched her shove her hands in the pocket of her coat as she half jogged, half walked to the entrance of the restaurant. Almost as if she felt his eyes on her, she turned her head to search through the glass wall for him and when their eyes met, her face broke into a smile so wide it that he found himself smiling back at her just as wide. She waved at him excitedly before finally walking through the entrance.
He stood up and hurriedly pulled out her chair for her. He heard a giggle before she spoke, "Sunbaenim, such a gentleman!"
The production team had changed her hair. Gone were the soft straight strands his fingers had touched underneath her ball cap on the day they met in Kim EunSook's office. They had given her bangs and waves, like Hong Seol in "Cheese in the Trap," but had stayed away from a harsh change in color. He wondered if her hair was still just as soft.
"You didn't have to do that, though. We're not on a date!"
Her light easy manner was so easy to respond to. So he tipped his head to the side, looked at her askance and said, "Ah, but Lee Gon and TaeEul are."
One eyebrow curved up as she folder her arms across her chest, a light smile on her face. "But TaeEul is paying for the meal, right? How is that a date, sunbaenim?"
He pouted and put a hand on his chest in mock hurt. "I'll be giving you an entire Kingdom. That should count for something, right?"
She pouted right back at him and reached out to tap him on the side of his arm. "TaeEul doesn't need kingdoms, Pyeha. She needs chicken and beer." She scrunched up her nose at him and added, "Better luck next time, yeah?"
Outwitted, he accepted defeat and playfully hung his head in shame. Then he peered at her through his bangs that flopped boyishly on one side of his forehead and smiled at her warmly. They had fallen into their roles so easily in the first few minutes that they had been together, as if Kim EunSook had written them into the characters instead of the other way around. He had a feeling that playing this role would change his life, he just didn't know how.
Then they moved into rehearsals and the shoot for the first BBQ Chicken dinner scene and he was given a front row seat to the show that was Kim GoEun. She chose to change the inflection of her voice first, using the sound to command the rest of her body with. Gone were the sweet, teasing tones of earlier and in its place were the short, clipped tones of an annoyed Lt. Jeong TaeEul. Sometimes she would move in a more boxed manner, like a boy, and it worked so well with her too big clothes. He was so busy observing every little movement she made, tracking all the changes, even as he threw his lines back at her, that he didn't notice that the real show was staring at him in the face.
When the cameras started to roll and their assistants had drawn back, they were left in their own corner of the restaurant. There was nothing between them now, no script in hand obscuring half their faces, no PA hovering about and brushing back strands of hair, nothing except for a table full of chicken and beer.
The AD clapped his hands together to start the scene and both he and Kim GoEun sprung into action. Where he sat just a little straighter, more stiff, she had slouched into her chair and began digging, no, stabbing into the chicken.
"Why aren't you eating?"
Round cheeks full of food and one hand with a fork buried into a chicken leg, she had looked at him dead in the eye with such force that he was taken aback, offended for both himself and his character that this woman suddenly had more authority than he and Lee Gon combined. He held her stare for a few quiet seconds, and then surrendered to the way his body wanted to respond to Lt. Jeong TaeEul's thinly veiled threat.
He dropped his eyes and stared at the chicken like petulant child.
"I don't eat food that wasn't tasted beforehand."
It was in this moment that he understood the power that Kim GoEun held with just her eyes.
He had never been an actor that used instinct and intuition. He had always found it too loose. He liked the discipline and control of studying a character, anticipating a co-actor's action and preparing three different responses to it. Acting for him had always been a mental exercise. But for the first time in his career, he did something he never thought he would do – he let go. And it only took one look in Kim GoEun's eyes to teach him that there was still something more he could pull from inside him if he just learned to let go.
This was probably how he had developed the habit of openly staring at her. It did strange things to him and he couldn't understand how looking at her face, and into her eyes, could connect him to parts of himself he never knew he had access to. As an actor, of course. So until she notices and tells him to stop, he decided he would catalogue every detail of her face, peer into her eyes and let them take him to places he had never been inside himself.
It's not as if she doesn't stare at him too. She does, and just as openly too. It's just that she stares at him at the same time as everybody does. So no one notices. Like that time in Gwanghwamun Square when Lee Gon and Jeong TaeEul meet for the first time, she had stared at him while traffic stopped on both sides of the road because everyone wanted to see Lee MinHo riding an immaculate white horse and dressed like a real life prince.
She drew herself back amongst the crowd of onlookers as Lee MinHo rode Maximus onto the square with the an unworldly grace. When the director instructed him to pause and take in his surroundings, she took the same instruction but focused her gaze solely on the man who had always been Kim Tan to her, but something about the way he looked now, sitting atop this majestic horse in such a regal manner, told her that it was time to let go of Kim Tan and let this man in.
She was off to his side so she was sure he wouldn't see her. It was cold that night so she had jammed her hands into the pockets of her black coat. He didn't look like the cold touched him. He didn't look like anything could touch him, sitting so tall on top of an already large animal who followed his every command. Backlit by the traffic lights and brushed by a gentle breeze, his dark brown hair framed his face in a soft curtain. It was a delicious contrast to the sharp lines of his dark thick eyebrows, tall sharp nose, high cheekbones, and down to the strong curve of his jawline. His broad shoulders was made even broader by the midnight black velvet jacket he wore that was embellished with gold filigree on the high collar and cuffs and gold buttons that ran down on both sides of the lapel.
This must be what little girls feel like when they dream of Prince Charmings, thought Kim GoEun. Because that's exactly what it felt like to look at Lee MinHo in the middle of Gwanghwamun Square – a dream. And she was a little scared that if she spent too much time in this dream, approximately 7 months of it, then she might never wake up from it. Or want to.
The breeze blew a little harder and she shivered. She drew her coat tighter around herself and bounced on the balls of her feet. An AD signaled to her and regretfully, or maybe just a little relieved to have a reason to, she turned away from watching Lee MinHo to begin preparing for their scene together.
She paused mid-step. Her heart beat, just a little erratic. She had just realized that tonight, she had not been looking at him as Lee Gon, but as Lee MinHo. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, exhaled, and said to herself, "It does not mean more. Do not want more." Then she opened her eyes, cleared it of the fog she herself had created, and marched with sure, measured steps towards this beautiful man with a white horse.
"Sunbaenim, you looked so handsome with Maximus!"
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29 notes · View notes
lisannach · 4 years
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self - para.
summary: life-long reflection and what happens beyond her stint at gallagher.
notes: i may have cried writing this but im also a mess period. thanks for hanging w this woman for the last few months, its been a blast! also, this is my love letter to the og series, specifically to liz’s valedictorian speech that still makes me cry to this day. 
what is a gallagher girl? seven-year-old lisanna knew of the world of espionage the day her mother, sylvia "swan song" harlin had snapped the neck of someone that had entered the manor and had pulled a gun on her younger sister lisbeth earlier that night. when the harlin children were gathered in the family room, the four of them had their futures planned out right then and there. and while their mother would rather shut down the whines of 'well i wanna be a rockstar!' , 'i hate seeing blood!', 'i'm scared!' , their father welcomed them and assured them they would adjust soon enough. "so, it's like the military?" a then thirteen-year-old wilbur had asked their parents. lisanna saw her mother's lips curl, "not quite." and it was the first time she’s heard the names gallagher and blackthorne. and amidst the escalating pressures of being sylvia’s daughter, she thinks: i’d love to be a gallagher girl. "it's exciting here, isn't it, lis?" lisbeth had asked her, one afternoon during her first year, lisanna during her third and had gotten her own share of stress from her threat elimination and weapons classes. she remembers nodding, a smile from ear to ear. it was the mark of her unusual stride in life; the smile that was always present when she's not knees deep into serious espionage business. "i bet it's even more exciting once we're out there, betty. can you feel it?" and lisbeth laughed, "i'm just a first year, lis! but i know you can't wait to get out there!" after teaching lisbeth how to properly put a kiss on one of gilly's statues, she leads her to the towers and they gossip about life, about the other girls, and about their brothers. one already on the field and one in blackthorne. as a gallagher girl, lisanna savors the moments of normalcy - the homework, the bonds, and the moments she didn't have to fill with her incessant talking. the goal was to graduate with great grades and a job, therefore making her mother proud. to be a gallagher girl was the highest mark of pride and she'd reap every benefit she could and make sure lisbeth does too.
"gallagher girl?" ellison had asked, tone somewhat dripped with judgment. to him, he had known that prissy little academy to be of renown; brilliant girls they said. but ellison would be lying if he didn't think of lisanna then as just one of those girls. spoiled out of their brains with dresses that fit them well, shoes that isn't as sharp to kill, and trust funds as deep as the atlantic ocean. "does that scare you, caspar?" she had asked, one brow raised. behind her saccharine smiles lay a rabble-rouser, one who thrived in chaos and danger and -- well, was it really a surprise that she had adapted to the life as her father had predicted? ellison grinned. back then, he had graduated from university of virginia and was about to go into quantico. to him, lisanna was just another college grad that frequented the royal diner in d.c. a pretty face, sharp wit. surely, it would be a one-night thing? years later and she finds herself out of the field, tending to an infant of her own. while gallagher never did have a childcare curriculum, she figures she could get through it. gallagher girls were made for anything, after all. even babies. her mother a year back had spoken to her, saying that because of one little thing ( at least to lisanna ), that she didn't have a birthright to much of anything. goodbye trust fund, goodbye prestige that came with being a harlin .. but lisanna didn't care. fuck being a harlin, she remembers whispering to herself more than a few times in her life. ellison's hard work plus her own let them afford this nice apartment in d.c. while it was no manor, lisanna knew it was never about how big your house was. it was full of love and energy and with elisa in her arms, what more could she ask for? turns out, when the child has grown up .. she asks for a lot more than what she thought she would. and she almost regrets it. what makes a gallagher girl? elisa was twelve. lisanna was long gone from her role of wife and mother and she was back on the field working mission after mission. she craved the thrill and the danger and the chaos and -- ellison could never say no to her leaving. even if it hurt. because he knew her. he fell for her and he knew why. he expected her departure, but he never expected what would happen next. the way their daughter acted out in an attempt to see if she could lure her mother back somehow. if, maybe, she made enough of a wave, lisanna would reconsider working in the field and come back. but at twelve, elisa wasn't a gallagher girl yet. lisanna would think about it, but it wasn't a life she wanted to push onto them. but years pass, elisa's behavior worsened and ellison was at the end of his rope. so lisanna opens the door into her world, hoping it would be the one to satiate the chaotic energy her own spawn had given off. and it did. elisa was twenty-one, and lisanna was slowly sinking into a specific state of boredom. who knew after twelve years of being in this job, living a life that your own personality could actually take, that you would ..get bored? the thrill wasn't fully gone, no, but it was getting there. so she sends her daughter a message to meet up in d.c. for one day during the summer. at the last minute, she gets called in and, like before, she chooses that world and leaves her daughter hanging. she's forgotten what it was like to be a daughter and to realize that having a matriarchal presence might mean more than she could ever think. because after twelve years, you stop being a gallagher girl and become the very thing they want ( or don't want ) to be. this pleases her mother, who had wanted nothing more but for her children to thrive in the field and excel. killing machines who will help shape society as we know it. she never did ask any of her children if that's what they wanted nor would she have cared. if she did, then she'd know just how much lisanna struggled inside. not just because she doesn't quite know where she stood, but because for all intents and purposes, she should know. she has the skills, the mentality and the endurance. so what's wrong? when lisanna is invited back to gallagher to teach, she almost lunges at the opportunity. it wasn't the shady alleys of moscow or the sweltering heat of monaco as she waited for the target to appear, but that was what she liked about it. a new thrill, a new kind of fun. "fun" to be used loosely, of course. there was nothing fun about the brotherhood and dead bodies and betrayals and a fire. but it occupies her. but she was here for one precious thing: a second chance to see and reunite with her daughter. and while it didn't work out the first time, elisa comes around. and she almost couldn't believe it. what's a gallagher girl made of? there was a distinct difference in how she handles family in every part of her life. even more if she took specific people into consideration. with her parents, she kept them at arm's length and made sure to smile widely for pictures and to shoot straight at targets. with her siblings, she was the shoulder to cry on and tears rolling down their faces as she cracks her tenth joke in that hour alone. with coworkers on the field, she was a no-nonsense weapons master who will kill if the mission said to kill and would deliver frappuccinos at the mission cool-down party. with ellison, she was lisanna harlin. the girl-next-door, triple pepperjack cheese and more tomatoes than what ellison is comfortable with in a tuna sub. the one who supported his every big decision and never complained about the quaint little apartment they called home because it meant much more than a house to her - it was her family. all on her own. and she had so much love to give than she's ever have given before. with elisa, she was blanket forts near the biggest window on starry nights, coming to her defense when sally easton says she pulled her hair when she didn't, and the shadow of a woman she's thought about for the twelve years she was absent. gallagher's curriculum didn't teach her any of that. and while she considered some of the girls and the faculty to be family during her stay then, they surely didn't teach her about separating from your husband and abandoning your daughter. does she still consider herself a gallagher girl? the morning after the end-of-the-year party, she watches the graduates walk across the stage, elisa's sleepy figure next to her, and she beams with a strange kind of pride. gallagher ( and blackthorne ) could claim them for as long as they want. living trophies of the kind of success you could get if you get in and survive all four years. but lisanna knew that it could only take you so far out there. she drives to d.c., elisa in tow, and after they park the car, they pass by the familiar pot of plant that has now long died and the door opens and she sees the love of her life. a scruffy beard and undereyes darkened to years of shouldering the chaos happening everywhere twenty-four seven. and she feels like she's back in that week after graduating gallagher academy and she's getting her usual order at the royal diner and this fresh bastard comes in and thinks he could smooth talk his way into her pants for a night. it's a lie. he stays for a few days and years pass and she's lived a few more lives than she ever thought she'd ever live and she's here. "well, if it isn't my favorite gallagher girls." ellison remarks, opening the door further to let the two in. elisa almost runs to the living room to drop off the bags and use the restroom because her mom did not stop at all during the drive ( but she also wanted to have their moment because it has been twelve years ). wordlessly, lisanna hugs ellison, her head against his chest and she hears their entire life together. and she realizes that while there was absolutely nothing wrong about being a gallagher girl or a spy, she loves being lisanna. and she never had to choose. all this time, she never had to choose. she could just have it. right here. / e p i l o g u e . she hears people talk. lisanna wasn't retired yet, after all. and through ellison's plans to get promoted once again and elisa's strange rants and ravings, she hears people talk. of many things. about a lot of people. and when she hears of jack's ( @jvckstone​ ) death, she exhales and takes a day off from her family to attend the funeral, somewhere in the back. to say that she was grateful for the tiny bit of hope he gave back in their room after elisa had rejected her was an understatement. after the funeral, her mother calls her for the millionth time and she presses ignore for the millionth time. the youth called it self care and if she ever had to face good old "swan song" ever again, she'll be sure to give bobby ( @bbygrvr​ ) a call. he's more than perfect to bring just to converse with her mother as she sips rum from their teacup and smiles every so often when her mother looks over. and after returning home to d.c., she lays back in the chair as her phone rings to her daughter who raves about everything under the sun to her. ellison arrives with two cups of tea, one for each of them. "so, like, is that so cliche? mom, he is so hot, i can't get over it. but would you hate me if i slept with a musician?" elisa asked over the phone. "i would." ellison called over from the love seat and lisanna lets out a laugh. "you know i won't."
and she sees the rest of her life beginning. just like that.
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this is an oc masterpost of all my haf-formed ocs languishing on pinterest with their messy aesthetics and unedited blurbs, in roughly chronological order of their creation, plus sorted by fandom. this post is only asoiaf, harry potter, hunger games, and riverdale, cos i have tooooooo many original characters otherwise and the post was getting incredibly long. (note that i love my ocs but these one’s are not polished or even the final versions of their characters, i just wanted to post them lol)
under a read more, if you’re on mobile start scrolling i guess, sorry,,,
Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice and Fire:
Laeya Targeryen: (child of Rhaella and Aerys Targaryen, born 280 AC - three years older than Danaerys) 
Fearful of her impending marriage, Laeya is eleven when she takes her younger sister and flees across the sea to Dorne, hiding herself and Dany with dyed hair and badly controlled magic. As Leia and Dani Sand they learn to live normally. At 15 Leia joins the Royal Guard and secures Dany work as a tailor's apprentice. When she is 17, an assassin tries to kill her in front of the Dornish court and everything changes...
- so laeya straight up has magic, which im considering an extension of the dragon thing dany has - she can control flame and for the disguise uses her ‘inner fire’ to make her eyes white-blue like super hot flames, cos the purple eyes are super distinctive. and then she’s discovered and suddenly politics are happening. honestly she’s entirely a way for me to remove the child marriage bits of the targaryen storyline (stop marrying off your twelve-year-old baby sister viserys u asshole) - in terms of meta/basics, laeya doesn’t have a fc cos most of my early ocs don’t, and bcs i picture her as emilia clarke with faked dark hair and blue eyes lol
and a quick aesthetic below:
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Kyrra Snow: (child of Robert Baratheon and Maery Snow, birthdate ???)
Kyrra Snow is the eldest natural-born child of Robert Baratheon, current King of Westeros, and daughter of Maery Snow, a Southron (but Northern-born) merchant woman. After her mother realises Kyrra was growing up a little too much like her father in looks and needed to leave the far South before she caught the wrong sort of attention, Kyrra was sent off to travel with her aunt and cousins. She is 17 and heading further north, to Winter Town, when Jon Arryn dies.
- kyrra’s another child of everyone’s favourite asshole king, and she’s got a lot of people after her head, but she just wants to travel and continue her work as a simple peddler. (riiip poor girl) honestly she’s not that developed but yolo -
aes:
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Brynn Stark: (child of Catelyn and Eddard Stark, Robb’s twin sister)  
Brynn believes in honour and family, and she is loyal to Winterfell and the North above all else. Likes - archery, embroidery and weaving. Betrothed to [some young Northern lord] to keep the bonds between the Norther families strong.
-i basically made brynn as a contrast to sansa’s pro-southnness and excessive femininity and arya’s anger and desire for swords (relatable mood tho lmao). so brynn is here to mediate, extoll the virtues of both needlework and weapons, make a decent marriage to someone she likes, if not loves, and hold down the fort in the North while shit gets increasingly messier in the South. and a possible faceclaim is Àstrid Bergès-Frisbey - 
aes:
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Rosienne Lannister: (child of Joanna and Tywin Lannister, born 273 AC)
Rose is looked at by the realm with dismissal, a consolation prize for her father, a spare daughter only useful for matchmaking, but at least able-bodied and pretty, unlike her brother. After a long betrothal, Rose is married to Willas Tyrell at the age of eighteen, cementing her role as the next Lady of High Garden...
- Rosie/Rose is a bonus Lannister, bcs why not. likes cyvasse and the harp, soft and kind and maternal, powerful in her own way. originally she was from a minor divergence where joanna survives tyrion’s birth and goes on to have another kid, but not sure if i’ll keep that aspect, so for now she’s tyrion’s twin -
and her aes (yes that quote is cropped, no i don’t care rn):
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honourable mentions to my other got underdeveloped got/asoiaf ocs who need more effort before i post properly about them:
Tamlen Storm, a rookery apprentice (working for the Maester of House Tully, managing the ravens) who may or may not be a reincarnated si-oc trying to save westeros, 
and an unnamed northern huntress who stumbled into the plot somehow and wants her normal life back (entirely inspired by Keira Knightley as Gwyn in Princess of Thieves, when she’s doing archery stuff and looking v butch).
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Harry Potter:
Taurus ‘Ara’ Lestrange:  (child of Bellatrix and Roldolphous Lestrange, born 1978) 
Raised by the Goblins after a legal mix-up following her parents' imprisonment in Azkaban, Taurus is good with a sword and aiming to be the next Minister of Magic. She attends Hogwarts with the other magical kids her age, under the fake identity Ara Burke, unknown cousin of a minor half-blood family. When the Potter brat’s drama starts destroying her change at an education just as her fourth year, her OWL prep year, begins, Ara intervenes.
- im tangentially aware that as bellatrix’s kid she’s almost occupying the place of whats-her-name from the cursed child, but considering that i know nothing about the cursed child and don’t care about it anyway, i have elected to ignore this. her actual parent might turn out to be some smitten half-blood from a minor branch of the Greengrass family, or it might actually be Rodolphous, who knows. slightly inspired by the fic ‘Harry Crow’ (by robst on ff.net) where harry is raised by the goblins -
messy aes:
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Valerian Potter: (child of Lily and James Potter, born 1980)
After the Potter twins’ parents are murdered by Voldemort, they’re dumped on the doorstep of Number 4, Privet Drive. Dealing with two traumatised magical orphans, Petunia and Vernon Dursley turn to violence and neglect to stay in control, acting far more harshly than expected. With the arrival of two Hogwarts letters, life gets complicated incredibly quickly. (Self-sufficient and scarred from abuse, Val and Harry are immediately Sorted into Slytherin). 
- val’s fic is basically an angst fest, okay,,, -
aes:
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and shout-outs to: holly addison potter, a half-baked reincarnation si-oc (i love that concept a lot, can u tell) and my fav girl thea dursley, who already has her own fic and so isn’t getting a proper spot in this post 
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The Hunger Games:
Asher: (District Two, age 18) 
[rip no blurb for asher]
-asher is a career from two, who wins the 70th games. mostly im focusing on her recovery and how the games function in two, with training volunteers and mentoring and collecting sponsors, plus eventually the rebellion. lots of the D2 headcanon i have is inspired by @/lorata but i defintely made a distinct effort to have my own stuff, cos where’s the fun in plagiarism -
aes for Asher’s Games:
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  Rowan Everdeen: (District Twelve, age 19)
Rowan will do anything to protect her family. This extends to going to Head Peacekeeper Cray on a cold winters night, charging the most she can get for her virginity.  It extends to Reaping Day, when she steps out in front of the crowd and says “I volunteer as tribute” in the steadiest voice she can muster.  It extends to clawing her way out of the Arena, bloody and exhausted, with blades in her hands and violence kept tucked behind her teeth. It extends further, to a simple ‘Yes, President Snow’ when he coldly, carefully implies her family might meet with an accident if she doesn’t play the good little Victor (and fuck the people who pay the Capitol for her company). It extends to joining the Rebellion, to looking President Coin directly in the eye and agreeing to be a Mockingjay, a symbol for the people to rally around.
- another everdeen kiddo! as the big sister, rowan volunteers for prim, and goes through the Games - she’s a healer and a hunter, and a decent enough actor that she can manage interviews and a camera presence, unlike katniss. rowan also pairs well with a minor au i have, where the reapings are spaced out over a week and official training is a longer, giving the capitol a nice, long buildup to get excited and place bets, etc., and giving the poor, underfed tributes from the outer districts a better chance, which makes for more interesting television and better Games -
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Adrasteia Crane: (The Capitol, age 28) Unlike her big brother, Adrasteia doesn’t want to be a Gamemaker. Instead, she wants to create clothes, artwork, to enrapture the Capitol. She wants to be a Games stylist. After years of design school, of working her way up the ranks, first a PA’s assistant, and then fetching and carrying for Twelve’s prep team, and then eventually on a prep team for the dull tributes from Six, Adrasteia Crane finally has what she wants - the position of stylist for District Three’s male tribute in 74th Hunger Games. 
- tbh adrasteia is only seneca crane’s sister because i couldn’t think of a suitable last name for her lmao. i think i’d actually prefer her to be unattached to any major canon players. however, his death is a good motivation for her to join the rebellion, so we’ll see. she’s got a bit of the capitol fashion thing going too, with soft pink hair and diamond-effect skin on her face and shoulders -
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also bonus hunger games content: another oc, Sarsaparilla Verran, from District Eleven, fifteen and alone when she goes into the Games. An orphan, her siblings lost to the Community Home system years ago, her relatives dead or uncaring. So, Rilla is a wee lonely bab tbh. she did not want this, unlike most of my other hg ocs, and she’s not excited for weeks of murder. she just wants her family back, but since that isn’t possible, she’ll build a new family instead. and uuhhhhh,  spoiler alert, she dies before she can have this ://///
and my hunger games aus - a canon divergence where katniss joins the careers instead of peeta, her desire to go home to her family outweighing her reactive hate for the concept of training/volunteering to kill other teens, and a fem!Haymitch au where she’s a little wiser to the dark side of the capitol before she commits acts of rebellion (she still rebels anyway tho, just smarter).
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Riverdale:
Cat Cooper: (middle child of Alice and Hal Cooper) Cat Cooper (17) is the black sheep of the Cooper family. Her piercings, brightly dyed hair and connections to the Southside Serpents make her the odd one out among her sisters and constantly at odds with Alice Cooper. Cat’s life is occupied with her Serpent friends, work at a local coffee shop, and training - martial arts, supplemented with cross country, gymnastics and swimming. Until her older sister is shipped off to places unknown and her baby sister starts getting caught up in murder investigation with the absent Serpent heir... 
- haven’t decided between Catelyn or Catherine for Cat’s full name lmao. she used to be Kit, actually, but I changed it cos i prefer Kit to solely be my divergent oc (kit serafim). Cat is an ADHD disaster who loves her sisters and her friends and wants to get the hell out of Riverdale on a sports scholarship (she does either boxing or karate mainly, need to figure that bit out) -
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Georgie Andrews: (child of Mary and Fred Andrews)
Georgie likes soft drinks, cheerleading, and hanging out with the Blossom twins and Polly Cooper, their closest friends and a welcome distraction from their own problems. After Polly and Jason vanish, Georgie’s support system is almost gone, and they has to deal with everything they’ve been bottling up, just in time for Fred Andrews to get shot.
- also just angst ngl.  so georgie’s gender is basically ???, they enjoy cheerleading and not much else. they spend half their time dealing with depression, by trying to ignore stressful/hard topics and focus on the good side of everything. this isn’t a great long-term coping mechanism and has the fun side effect of pissing of the people around him when she seems unable to be serious or empathetic to someone else's pain (bcs she’s too busy deflecting for the sake of her own fragile mental health), so it gets fun when fred is shot and archie starts getting in too deep with the lodges -
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Sera Thornstone: (parents ???) Southside Serpent. Going to the Riverdale Community College and running errands for FP Jones. And secretly meeting up with her Ghoulie lover down by the Sweetwater where nobody goes. 
- everything about sera is vague and undecided lmao. but she has a ghoulie gf/bf/nbf? and they’re hiding that they were down by the river on the 4th of july, cos a serpent is an immediate suspect. going to community college to work on getting general credits before saving up for fancy school for law or journalism. the aes isn’t entirely accurate cos sera’s built from the remains of another serpent oc who i scrapped (she does have a baseball bat tho) -
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and honourable mentions to jen johnson and octavia blossom-murphy, my other riverdale ocs who actually have content, plus an in-development unnamed oc who gets adopted from the soqm by the Muggs family and growsup with Ethel. and my riverdale role reversal au, which i will never write but have some nice aesthetics for under the tag wip: bughead role reversal au.
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all my mini-aesthetics here are unsourced images/from pinterest. any similarities to other people or characters, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. 
alrighty that’s it. now i have to tag this behemoth argh
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bigskydreaming · 4 years
Text
@princeescaluswords tagged me in a fanfic ask meme, and I’m loling at how few of the questions I can actually answer, because I swear I’ve literally forgotten more fandoms than most people will ever have. And I’ve probably written a good couple million words of fanfic all in total....
I know with just my first fandom alone, Roswell, I was in that one writing regularly for about three years and wrote and published probably a million words between the six or so ‘big fics’ I wrote......21 Down topped out at just over 200K, my Paradise Lost trilogy was probably a little longer as I think Genesis and Exodus were both around 80K and Revelations was probably closer to 100K. Riders of the Storm was around 120K.....Passage to Dawn I never actually finished because I scrapped it halfway through and started over.....and my revised version left off at around 50K I think, but the previous version before that had gotten up to 100K......and then I honestly can’t remember the names of my other two big fics at the moment, lmfao, I just know I had one more that was an amnesia trope fic and one that was....oh! Never mind, just remembered. The Long Dark Night of the Soul was one of my shorter ones, probably somewhere between 60-80K.
But yeah, that was just my first fandom alone......but fandom was a little different then, like in the sense that nobody was really writing posts about meta or episode or character analysis......Roswell fandom existed almost entirely on various messageboards and linked sites created by the community. It was years before Ao3 of course, and while ff.net was around, Roswell was one of those fandoms that just never congregated around it......people posting Roswell fics on ff.net were the outliers, the majority of fandom was centered around sites like roswellfanatics.net, crashdown.com and my personal site/board of choice to hang out and post at, polarattraction.com. I’m pretty sure all of those sites have been defunct for years, and I wish I’d done a better job of saving some of my own fics at least, lol. But point is, the fandom was geared just towards the writing and consumption of fanfic more than anything else......so if you were writing something, it was either a fic itself, or a comment on somebody else’s fic, lol. 
Anyway, was just reviewing my various past fandoms, the ones I could remember, and thought of Dark Angel fandom, which I haven’t thought of in forever. Which is kinda funny to me, actually, considering my focus in DA fandom was pretty much exactly my focus in Batfandom - the found family feels.
LOL. Like, I was never one of the better known writers in DA fandom given that my focus was not really the same as most of fandom’s. DA fandom was largely split into two camps locked in eternal ship war - Logan/Max and Alec/Max. I had by this time ‘evolved’ to the point of looking at this and just snobbishly intoning “I do not care for the Straightness of this all and thus I choose to Abstain from the conflict” so there was that at least.....but yeah, thing was, personally, I was in Dark Angel fandom for the found family feels. Max’s eternal search for her siblings she’d been raised with but lost track of when they escaped from Manticore as children.....like that was the good stuff, that was what drew me in and kept me under lock and key until I’d banged out a good couple years’ worth of constant fic writing about her and her siblings before I moved on.
But while Max’s search for her siblings was the catalyst and central plot of the first season of Dark Angel, fandom pretty much only ever took off with the introduction of Alec in the second season, when it became an either/or choice between Alec and Logan. And with most of the second season moving away from Max’s search for her family to focus more on the larger big-picture plots, combined with the fact that most of Max’s siblings never actually made an appearance onscreen.....understandably, they didn’t end up occupying too much of a role in most of fandoms’ fics or interests.
Anyway, like I said, I churned out a shit ton of DA fanfic in a pretty short period of time....my single most popular fic was probably one about transgenics racing to find a cure when they realize they’d been genetically engineered to all ‘expire’ by a certain age, since their creators had no use for genetically engineered super-soldiers past the prime of their lives.
But my personal fave bits of writing, and the series I reeeeeeally regret not saving and wish I could find again, like, there was this one series of one-shots (ranging from a couple thousand words long to some that were about 20-30K long) written about each of Max’s siblings.....all fifteen of them, lol. Jondy’s was the first one I wrote, and one of the first things I wrote in that fandom, and then I just added new stories to that particular series up until Jack’s, the very last one a couple years later....which I THINK was the last thing I ever wrote/posted in that fandom.
And since we only ever met about half of these characters on the show, and most of them only for an episode each, for the most part they were blank slates and the equivalent of writing OCs......and so I’ll always have a soft spot for my time in DA fandom solely because of how many people told me my version of Max’s various siblings was like, the definitive version for them and what they based their own fics or takes on her siblings on. Swoon. Like, that’s my favorite kind of compliment, especially in fanfic writing.
So that series was my Big Thing even if it wasn’t my most popular or well-known fic, and the various stories in it were weird and whimsical and largely experimental. Because part of the point of fic writing for me instead of writing original fic is its like....fanfic is often the place where I just get weird with my writing and try new things even just stylistically. See what works and what doesn’t, etc.
Anyway, kinda curious if there’s anyone out there who was in Dark Angel fandom at all to any degree, or if any of these sound familiar or if anyone remembers reading them.
Like, so Jondy was Max’s sister who we never met in canon but Max talked about often as being her favorite sibling, and her story in this series was called “Little Lightning Girl.” In it she was a stripper slash vigilante, who used her job to take note of predatory guys who then she preemptively scared away from her coworkers or ran totally out of town. I forget how it went exactly, but that one was written as though it was all her stream of consciousness, and she had to my mind a kind of chaotic, whimsical sort of nature, so there was something in there like: 
“Call me little lightning girl, for I’ve lightning in my veins. My hair is always frizzy, my steps all flicker-shimmy-shake. But when I strike, boom, clap, I’m thunder in reverse - by the time you hear the rumble, its already too late. That was you hitting the ground. Don’t hurry getting up. I can wait.”
And then Zane’s story was called “Zen and the Art of Not Breaking Your Customer’s Fucking Face (remember, its bad for business).”
Brin’s was “I Wasn’t Born Yesterday (but yesterday, I remember being very small).”
Zack’s was “Rules For When The Sky Is Falling (and this time it isn’t your fault).”
Syl’s was “The Kind of Girl You Bring Home to Meet Your Parents (when you’ve got the kind of parents that need killing).”
Ben’s was “They keep telling me I’m crazy (I say its the world that’s gone mad).”
Tinga’s was “A Storybook Kind of Princess (with a Grimm kind of happily ever after)” and Krit’s was “The Good Die Young, So Boy, You Better Be Bad.”
Kavi’s was “I Never Learned How To Play Ball (striking out comes naturally).”
Vada’s was “Chase Me To The Desert and Watch Me Live, I Bet I’ll Thrive (you better believe I was born to survive).”
And then Seth’s was “All Her Brothers’ Keeper (you keep your secrets and I’ll keep the watch).”
And though technically not escapees with the rest of them, I am anal and a completionist, so of course I had to write ones for Eva, Jack and Jace too. 
Eva’s was “Big Sisters Know Best (so when I say I’ll die for you, just say thank you and live).” 
Jace’s was “Leopards Never Change Their Spots (but why worry about my 5% leopard when I’m 10% shark). 
And Jack’s was “Shelter The Innocent (but don’t look at the boy without shelter and say that boy, he’s no good).”
Anyway, been randomly thinking about those today now. Well, not randomly since I can follow the train of thought that led me to thinking about them, but you know what I mean. Its just kinda funny to me that I do remember those particular stories so well when there’s entire other fandoms I can barely remember writing in at all. And DA fandom wasn’t even one I was in all that long, ever knew too many other people in, or like....idk. I definitely, definitely have written much more well read and frequently commented upon stories than that fairly random little series of almost-OCs, but for some reason it stuck around in my head a lot longer and a lot more clearly than a ton of other stuff.
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in-tua-deep · 5 years
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I would love to see Delores punch the Handler! Your ideas for the pride and prejudice AU are inspired! What role would the rest of the family play in this story? I just love your blog so much!
oh i am very down to detail out this au and make it one big post
SO you have Eudora Patch playing the role of our lovely Elizabeth Bennet, and Diego playing the role of Mr. Darcy, protective idiot who puts his foot in his mouth frequently. Eudora’s parents died when she was little and she was raised by her godparents alongside Dave and Dolores, who she considers her siblings - but Dave is her best friend in the world
Dave is kind of ridiculous and more than a little gay and he’s a soldier home on leave, and when Netherfield is occupied and he goes to the ball he falls head over heels for the biggest dumbass in the known universe, Klaus. So Dave is Jane Bennet and Klaus gets to be Mr. Bingley!!
Then Mr. Bingley has two sister and a brother-in-law in the book so that’s just going to be Allison, Vanya, and Luther hanging around. Allison takes Diego’s side after the absolute disaster that was Vanya falling for Leonard (ew) and agrees to help convince Klaus to leave Netherfield with Diego, so she’s taking the role of Caroline Bingley except less bitchy
So the reason the kids have all returned to Netherfield is because their father just died and they’re dividing up the estate etc. etc. and the reason Ben isn’t there is because he’s up in London dealing with the financial stuff because let’s be real there are two (2) people in the family who have the head for finances and one of them is thirteen (and also I needed a reason for Ben to not be there for the falling in love part because he would yeet Diego and Allison’s attitudes out the window)
and then there’s Five who still lives at Netherfield and is best friends with Dolores but they’re secret friends, or at least they were because now the old man is dead he can associate with whoever the fuck he wants wheyy BUT some of the debate over inheritance is also about who gets custody of Five
which is a long way of saying that Five has a vested interest in trying to get at least one of his siblings to stay in Netherfield so he can continue being bros with Dolores and doing whatever he wants because he doesn’t want to have to move
Dolores?? Sort of gets the younger Bennet sisters roles? Sort of Lydia Bennet because she does run away briefly but YEAH she’s Dave’s little sister and is mute and Five is her best friend and she taught him sign language but honestly half the time it’s like they’re reading one another’s minds anyway?? 
They met when they were younger and Five ran away and Dolores found him and was like ?? well okay and proceeded to smuggle him food and hide him in the shed for a day and a half before he ended up going back because he did miss his siblings but the two decided they had bonded and Five frequently secretly exited the manor to meet up with her and play
Dave knows that Five exists abstractly but just knows him as some kid in town that Dolores plays with so he does not put two and two together until later shenanigans when he realizes his little sister’s best friend is the love of his life’s little brother who can pull some strings
anyway
so Wickham’s role goes to the Handler who ?? tried to kidnap Five or something when he was younger? Or rather, she convinced Five that he wanted to go with her because she pretended to be his friend and Five ended up escaping, which was actually the whole ‘running away’ thing where he met Dolores (except he never told Dolores because that Handler highkey scares him and he’s actually kind of ashamed the Handler tricked him to begin with)
so yes obviously someone the whole family despises but is very manipulative and probably weaves some tragedy for Patch to sympathize with and when Diego sees them associating he’s even ruder to her and there’s that whole misunderstanding going on
So Patch is happy for Dave, who is in love, and then Klaus ends up being convinced to go to London to chill with Ben who is his favourite brother because Diego Doesn’t Trust Like That and Patch gets super pissed off about it because Dave is heartbroken and mooning around sadly and being depressed and how DARE Diego do this to her best friend/brother?? absolute fucker
meanwhile Diego is wrestling with his attraction to Patch and making every single wrong step in the book
Five and Dolores plot in the background and are up to shenanigans which involve trying to set their idiot siblings up in situations where they are forced to interact (Dolores is actually invested while Five is sort of just throwing Dave and Patch at his siblings to see what sticks because he really doesn’t want to have to leave Netherfield and Dolores) while Dolores ALSO tries to figure out The Mystery of The Handler because Five goes super pale when he sees her in town but won’t tell her why and no Patch she doesn’t care that you think the Handler is actually good there’s something weird going on here and she’s going to find it out
I’m not usually one for human Dolores aus but I’m delighted by the idea of this child who loves her pretty dresses and things that glitter but who also learned how to sew just so she could add pockets to all of her pretty dresses so she could put things like frogs in them for when she wants to Do Crime with her bestie. Dolores is 80% of the brains behind the operation while Five is 70% the ‘sneaky little shit who can get into just about anywhere’ part. He was probably the one who taught her how to pick a lock. And no, Dave does not know that Five is teaching his baby sister Crime Skills.
but yes Allison is probably still married to Patrick in this au and is kind of angry/irritated because they fight quite a bit which is probably why she was willing to project some of those bad feelings on Klaus and Dave as well
what even other character are there in Pride and Prejudice idk
Grace exists but she’s the kids stepmother or something and for whatever reason she isn’t actually a part of the inheritance?? She’s just sort of in the background waltzing around fussing over her kids and also reminding Diego to be nicer and is probably the catalyst of Diego realizing what an utter shit he’s been after Patch’s big old “Fuck you I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last man on the face of the planet and also fuck you again for good measure” speech
Vanya just really wants to be able to play cards in peace and stop being dragged into whatever the fuck is going on now but she 100% takes Klaus’s side when everything is dragged up and is like “C’mon guys for real just let Klaus go back to Netherfield and see what happens, Dave seems really nice. And also fuck you for comparing every person we want to date to my shitty ex, like, we GET it, I made some questionable choices.”
Luther is doing his level best to ignore the family drama going on and actually try and do what they came for which is, you know, dividing up the estate and figuring out custody and etc. etc. but every time he brings things up his siblings blow him off because they’re all too focused on their personal lives and drama and the love stories unfolding and Luther is suffering because it’s like herding cats but somehow worse
Dolores finds out about the Handler and decides she’s ready to throw down and runs off to pick a goddamn fight because how fucking DARE and Patch doesn’t know where she IS and her and Dave are STRESSED and Diego hears about it and ends up going and fetching this child and bringing her back which makes Patch respect him or something idk
but at the end, Dave and Klaus get together and they’re cute as FUCK. Patch and Diego get together and their terrible childish rivalry evolves into a terrible childish romance which evolves into what is sure to become a terrible childish marriage. Allison and Patrick actually speak to each other and sort out some of their issues. Ben comes back into this clusterfuck of a situation like that one pizza fire gif and ends up sorting everyone out while nursing a migraine. Vanya gets some god damn peace and quiet. Luther finally manages to sort out the estates. Dolores and Five get matching best friend necklaces or something because they’re kids and high five the fuck out of one another at the wedding because hell yeah all their plans worked (even though like 90% of their plans backfired, accomplished nothing, or were just hilarious but not actually successful)
and yeah that’s the pride and prejudice au
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thebaronmunchausen · 4 years
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Like most of you writers, I got my start as a writer in the campus press, first in high school, then in college. And, like most of my contemporaries I dreamed of a career in journalism—writing for the national newspapers and magazines, since, in those days, there was only print journalism. Creative writing programs, and even creative writing courses didn’t exist.
UST, my alma mater, offered a degree in Journalism (with course offerings which included the new fields of Advertising and Public Relations). In the same faculty (the Faculty of Philosophy & Letters, or Philets), which taught Journalism, it also offered a Bachelor of Philosophy (with course offerings which included many Literature subjects). I chose Philosophy even if I had no idea what profession a degree in Philosophy prepared one for, mainly because I wanted to take all those Literature courses.
In high school, while writing for and eventually editing The Paulinian, I began to contribute feature articles to several national magazines (all unfortunately short-lived). As a sophomore in college, while writing for and eventually editing The Varsitarian, I wrote a weekly column in the youth section of the “Manila Chronicle”; and as a senior, I became Editor of the youth section of the “Weekly Graphic”. So, when I graduated from college, I considered myself a professional journalist.
But what I really wanted to be was a writer of short stories, and, of course, to win a Palanca. This didn’t come easily to me. It was essays that I wrote, and the Palanca Awards then did not yet include the essay category. My best friend had already won a Palanca for her poetry while still an undergraduate. But I hadn’t even published a story! And when she was invited to be part of the first Writers’ Workshop in Silliman, and I wasn’t, I was devastated.
When my first short story was published, I was 25, married and a mother. When I won my first Palanca, my husband had accepted a job with UNICEF, and we were living in Beirut. The news got to me in a letter from my mother, sent via diplomatic pouch by UNICEF in Manila. Tony was out of the country, and my oldest daughter was in school. So the only one I could share my big news with was my second daughter, Anna, who was around 4 years old. I said to her: “Anna, guess what, I won a prize for my story—I got 3rd prize.” She thought about that for a moment, and then, she said, “Gee, Ma, you have to try harder next time.”
I have another favorite Palanca memory. It happened in this very room on Palanca Night. I was here with my husband, Tony. Either he or I had served as judge for one of the categories. A young man came up to greet us—it was the late Luis Katigbak, still an undergraduate in the UP’s Creative Writing Program then. He looked rather self -conscious in his dark suit. I had only ever seen him in t-shirts and jeans, so I almost didn’t recognize him. We congratulated him for his prize, and he shook our hands, gave us a wide smile, and a little bow. After he had left us, Tony said to me, “That’s the look and the swagger of a writer who has just won his first Palanca. Recognize it?”
And every Palanca night since, I have seen that look and that swagger in some of the young writers in attendance. But now and again, I wonder: how long will this last? The question I’m asking is not long will the Palanca Awards last, but how long will writers keep on wanting and trying to produce the kind of writing that wins a Palanca award?
Why am I asking this question? We all know that in the different branches of the country’s biggest bookstore chain, what few shelves are devoted to books are not occupied by literary titles written by Filipino writers. Of course, these days, the question that follows naturally on that one is: but what do we mean by that term “literary title”?
A few months ago, at a meeting of the Board of Trustees of the Book Development Association of the Philippines (BDAP), I heard another term used for the first time: “hard literature.” I learned that, in the publishing world, the term has replaced the earlier term, “serious literature.” As a writer, and a reader, my own definition of “serious literature” is literature that is carefully crafted, literature that seeks to explore ideas which the writer feels strongly about, literature that is written, not just to share experiences, but to offer insights about its subject. In other words, literature which has a chance of winning a Palanca award.
But at that meeting I am referring to, the speaker (himself a very successful local publisher, who happens to be here tonight, and who has given me permission to mention his name—Mr. Jun Matias of Precious Pages and Lampara) made a pitch for Filipino publishers to be more open—not just to “hard literature”—but to all forms writing. There is so much of it being produced now, he said, so many young people wanting to share their stories, and so many people wanting to read them, that publishers who choose to continue to ignore it, or “judge” it—by which he meant, look down on it—run the risk of being left behind. This made me sit up.
Jun then showed us a brief video of one of his authors—a Wattpad writer—arriving for a “meetup.” This writer’s fans were so numerous that they had to open another room to accommodate them. When she arrived, she was received like a rock star—with screams and shrieks and wild applause. And she looked the part too—young and slim with straight long hair, her face partly hidden by huge shades.
Another publisher later told me that her company has been in an arrangement with Wattpad since 2014, to turn selected Wattpad novels into print novels. One of these, “She’s Dating a Gangster” by Bianca Bernardino became, not just an National Bookstore bestseller, but the first Wattpad novel to be turned into a movie (by Star Cinema, with Kathryn Bernardo and Daniel Padilla in the lead roles).
This publisher also informed me that their most popular writer, Jonaxx, is so big that the company has created an imprint just for her. Her real name is Jonah Mae Panen Pacala; she’s 28 years old and a pre-school teacher from Cagayan de Oro. According to her fan page she is the first Filipina Wattpad author to gain 1 million followers. Last year, that figure went up to 2.7M+. And her fans are so fiercely devoted to her that they object to her novels’ being changed in any way, including correcting grammar and syntax. “Mapapansin Kaya?” the first of her books to be published, had a print run of 40,000. Seven of her books have been published so far. Since she joined Wattpad in 2012, she has published 32 novels. (That was a year ago. Perhaps she has since produced more.)
Actually, my initial reaction to the Wattpad phenomenon when I first heard of it was astonishment. I had no idea that so many people wanted to write fiction. But why not? Looking back on my own teen years… didn’t I, too, want to write stories?
I began writing stories because I loved reading them. I’m talking about novels like “Little Women” and “Anne of Green Gables” and “Daddy Long Legs;” and later, the Nancy Drew series and the Beverly Gray series—what today are called “YA novels.” My world was a small one. My parents were conservative and kept me at home most of the time. To use a hoary cliché, reading books opened doors for me, doors into other, larger, worlds.
When I first tried to write stories, I was a pre-teen. I simply wanted to imitate the stories I had read. The heroines in those stories had adventures; they fell in love. And they wanted to be writers! They became my role models. My writing—like my reading—was not so much for self-expression or sharing with others. It was a form of escape, an escape from a life I considered boring and humdrum.
But I outgrew those stories. There was something predictable in their plots, and in their characters, principally, the little orphan girl, neglected and deprived of love, but gifted with a vivid imagination. After various mishaps, some painful, sone hilarious, she transforms into a strong-minded, large-hearted, confident, accomplished, and lovely young woman; and of course finds a young man worthy of her.
So, I moved on to Jane Austen and the Bronte sisters, to Mark Twain and Harper Lee and Charles Dickens. I discovered Nick Joaquin and Kerima Polotan and Carmen Guerrero Nakpil. I realized I was no longer reading just for escape. Without fully realizing what I was looking for, I just knew I was looking for something else, for something more.
My writing began to change as well. I showed my new essays and stories to my English teachers and the school paper adviser. When they edited these, or wrote comments on the margins, I did not take this as an infringement on my freedom. Neither did any of my classmates, by the way. We took it as an effort to help us become better writers. And we were grateful. (Which is I find it difficult to understand why, today, some beginning writers are averse to being edited.)
Anyway, this whole process simply meant that I was growing up as a person. And that I was developing as a writer.
Today, I ask myself: if the Net had existed when I was a teen-ager, and had it been possible to post my scribblings on an app like Wattpad, without the benefit of comments or suggestions from teachers or more experienced writers; had I acquired a huge following, and my stories been turned into printed books, which would sell copies in the hundreds of thousands… if these things had happened to me, would I have chosen to stop writing girlish romances, and moved on to other subjects, and other ways of writing? What would have been the reason for doing so?
It has occurred to me that this may well be the situation some of the Wattpad writers find themselves in. They’re already successful. What else do they need to do? In particular, why do they need to go to college and study writing?
Actually, I know people—some of them, writers—who believe that one does not have to get a degree in creative writing to become a writer. And that is certainly true. National Artists Nick Joaquin, NVM Gonzalez, Francisco Arcellana didn’t have degrees in Creative Writing. National Artists Bienvnido Lumbera, Virgilio Almario, and Frankie Sionil Jose don’t have degrees in creative writing. And, as I said earlier, neither do I.
The establishment of Creative Writing as an academic discipline is relatively new (unlike the B.A. in Fine Arts and the B.A. in Music, which have been around for more than a century). But I’m not quite sure why anyone would discourage young writers from wanting to get degrees in creative writing.
The myth seems to be that a formal education in writing will “destroy” your natural, instinctive talent. And, perhaps, there ARE some teachers out there whose methods may, in fact, have a negative effect on their students. But doesn’t this happen in all fields, be they the arts, the natural sciences, or the social sciences? There are good teachers and bad teachers; there are teachers whom some students find inspiring while others find them boring.
I tell my students that, at some point, they should become pro-active and choose the mentor they feel is the best suited to their own temperaments, someone they admire and trust and feel they can work with. Such a mentor cannot harm them; in fact, he or she, is more likely to be a great help to them.
I’ve said this often before: writing is a profession like any other. One trains to become a professional. It is accepted as natural that people in the other arts, like painting or sculpture should wish to enroll in a College of Fine Arts, and musicians should wish to enter a Conservatory of Music. And, certainly in the visual arts and in music, the more highly skilled you are, the bigger your chances of selling your works via the great international auction houses or doing solo performances to the accompaniment of great symphony orchestras. Why should it be any different for literature?
Of course writers who don’t want to get a university education don’t have to get it. But if they’re serious about making writing their career—if they wish to be professional writers—they need some form of training, even if it be self-training. All training requires hard work, but this kind of training—self-training—even more so.
One learns any skill, first, by imitating those who know how to do it. Even child prodigies—like Tiger Woods, who was playing golf when he was two years old—took golf lessons, from his father, first of all. Even gifted musicians—like the band Queen and its brilliant front man Freddie Mercury—have acknowledged the influence on their work of other rock stars, whom they respected, and whose music they spent time studying: Elvis Presley, David Bowie, Jimi Hendrix.
When the UST Center for Creative Writing invited Ely Buendia to speak at a forum on song writing, I asked him what he thought had led to the Eraser Heads’ great success. He said he didn’t know, but he also told me that he had admired many other musicians, had studied them, and tried to incorporate those influences into his music. He mentioned, in particular, Elvis Presley (who, in turn, had been influenced by African American blues, southern country music, and gospel music). And he mentioned our own folk songs, which he said he had also studied.
To return to what I was saying earlier: what would be the incentive of the phenomenally popular and commercially successful Wattpad writer to raise the level of her writing skills, and take on concerns larger than first love or first heartbreak?
Actually, I know someone who has done just that. Perhaps some of you will recognize the name Charmaine M. Lasar. She’s a 20-year-old Wattpad writer, who won the Carlos Palanca award for the novel in Filipino in 2015. She has been quoted to the effect that she joined the Palanca literary contest because she “wanted to refute the idea that only garbage comes out of Wattpad.” But she also added that, in writing her 35,000-word novel, Toto-O, which she claims to have written in just one month, she “consciously deviated from her Wattpad writing style, which is looser and more carefree,” and opted to write something that was “medyo malalim” in terms of language.” Also, its plot has nothing to do with young love or heartbreak.
The novel was published in 2016 by JumpMedia. And last year, Maine was accepted by the UP Institute of Creative Writing as a writing fellow for its National Writers Workshop. I met her there, and she told me she was considering saving up to enroll for a Creative Writing degree. I salute her, and I salute the Palanca Awards for giving her the recognition she earned.
Her crossover is proof that the two worlds—the world of pop fiction and the world of hard literature—are not mutually exclusive.
Back in 1999, after retiring from government service, my husband (who, in one of his earlier incarnations, had also been a poet, an essayist , and a journalist), set up a small publishing company that he ran pretty much by himself. He had in mind two lines: information books, and literature. But when he found out how small the print run of most literary titles was, he was shocked. Why, he asked me, would I go to all that trouble and use up all that time to write a novel or a collection of short stories or essays, if only a thousand people were going to read me?
He was determined to publish books that would appeal to larger audiences, and he decided that the way to do that was to produce short, light, nonfiction books, targetting readers in their 20s and 30s; books which would be accessible, without losing their literary quality. Many of the writers he published were first-time authors, like Vlad Gonzalez, Carljoe Javier, Rica Bolipata Santos; but he also published writers who already had something of a name, like Marivi Soliven Blanco, and Luis Katigbak; and award-winning writers like Butch Dalisay, Vince Groyon, and Chris Martinez. The award winners were not averse to trying their hand at writing that would have a more popular appeal.
Milflores books did well in terms of sales. A few did exceptionally well. And some of the Miflores books also won awards, like Rica Bolipata Santos’ “Love, Desire, Children, Etc.,” which won the Madrigal Gonzalez Best First Book Award.
Today, we have Visprint Publishing, which is doing something similar, but on a much larger scale. Some of the writers whom Nida Ramirez publishes are actually academics, like Chuckberry Pascual, Joselito Delos Reyes, and John Jack Wigley. All three have written “hard literature.” All have won awards for their writing. But Nida has chosen to publish their lighter work. Visprint books are small, inexpensive, light, humorous. Nida has also published the speculative fiction of Eliza Victoria and the graphic fiction of Manix Abrera. Actually, none of Visprint’s titles are sleepers. And some have won literary awards too. In fact, in 2015, Visprint received a National Book Award as Publisher of the Year, a prize which goes to the publisher with the biggest number of winning titles for that year.
So Visprint would seem to represent the happy bridge between the commercially successful book and the artistically lauded book, proving, yet again, that these are not incompatible.
In that sense, this is actually a very exciting time for writers. There have never been so many choices available, including what would have been mind-boggling for me and my contemporaries: self-publishing online.
Before making those choices, though, writers need to figure out a few things. First, what kind of books do they want to write? Second, what kind of writers do they want to be, or think they can be? Third, do they mainly want to entertain readers, or to challenge them intellectually, or to influence them politically? Do they want to make as much money as they can? Or do they want to write in the best way they know how? Or do they want to try and do both? And, finally, how do they want their books distributed—by commercial publishers? by academic publishing houses? by themselves, on line and in small expos?
These choices will be determined by what they believe the function of literature is in a country like ours, at the time in which we live, and what role they want to play in it as writers.
Because I am a writer who is also a publisher, I understand the need to be commercially viable. But, as an educator, I also believe that public service is an important responsibility of the publishing industry. And this means recognizing that expanding the market for books is important, not just for bigger profits, but because more educated citizens make more mature citizens—an indispensable element for any experiment in democracy, like ours.
In concrete terms, this means: on the one hand, accepting the level at which most of our reading public is—what it’s willing to read, what it enjoys reading—and, on the other hand, committing at least a part of the resources available to producing books which will upgrade standards and tastes.
Personally, I remain committed to writing in the best way I know how, no matter how small the audience for this kind of writing might be. Because I feel that literature of this sort—“hard literature,” if you will --serves its own purpose.
In another essay, I wrote about this, and perhaps you will allow me to quote from it: “Writers of all generations have tried to define that purpose. But there are periods in our history when it becomes startlingly clear. The period we live in today, in this country, is one of them—one of those periods when events, both natural and man-made, conspire to drain one of all hope that better times lie ahead."
I mentioned the book, "Sonoran Desert Summer," by John Alcock, professor of Zoology at Arizona State University, where he describes June in the desert as "the month of almost no hope for all living creatures, with the temperature at 102 degrees, rainfall at two-tenths of an inch, and a wind that has removed almost every hint of moisture from the desert world."
He calls it "a time for hanging on, enduring, letting the days pass."
And then, he describes how, suddenly… "from the boulders on the still shaded lower slope of Usery Mountain comes a song, the clear, descending trill of a canyon wren. Loud, defiant, and encouraging, it announces a survivor... (The bird) bounds from rock to rock, at perfect ease in its home in the desert.’’
Sometimes I think that this might be the reason we do it, the reason we keep on writing. This is our song, “defiant and encouraging.”
As writers, we all know that we must stay the course, most particularly in bleak times such as those that confront us now. We will not necessarily agree on what we are called upon to do, but we will do it according to our best lights. We will observe, we will record, we will protest. Above all, we will remember. And we will endure.
Cristina Pantoja Hidalgo
*Speech delivered during the Carlos Palanca Memorial Awards, November 8, 2019, at the Manila Peninsula, where the author was Guest of Honor and received the Dangal ng Lahi Award
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canyouhearthelight · 5 years
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The Miys, Ch. 35
Here we go, Chapter 35!  Any mistakes are purely my own - Due to an absolute ton going on, @parisconstantine had way more important things to worry about than proof-reading this chapter.
Please send positive energy her way, and I hope she enjoys this chapter (even though Tyche isn’t in it very much).
Trigger warnings below the line for severe depression.  For anyone reading who is lucky enough not to live with this level of depression, this is what it feels/looks like from the inside.  And, while Sophia’s reaction is pretty atypical for being pulled out of a spiral, this is actually something my best friend did to me once to pull me out.  So, yes, this is a very real reaction.
In the days following the trial, everything changed.   Just walking through the corridors of the ship back to the medical bay had been agonizing; Tyche was jumpy and suspicious to a nearly feral degree, Conor tried to put himself between me and anyone who came within arm’s reach.  Not that there was any concern about that – the air held a tense feeling of suspicion.  The normally jovial and social people I saw every day were instead huddled closely in pairs and small groups, speaking in whispers or hushed tones.  I didn’t have to imagine what they were thinking about, since it was haunting my mind as well. Who else on board could be a Baconist? What if they weren’t all discovered?
Adding to the oppressive atmosphere was the unmistakable fact that Noah was everywhere.  Prior to the sabotage of the ship, they had placed most of their bodies in suspension – a sort of hibernation to conserve space and resources – and allowed humans to fill as many roles as we could teach ourselves. Now, however, I couldn’t turn my head without seeing lumbering bodies traversing the corridor.
“Noah,” I asked aloud. “Did you bring all your bodies out of suspension?”
“Yes, Wisdom.” I turned to see the one I originally thought of as ‘Noah’ approaching from behind. It gestured at its body with one small-hand. “I know you prefer to speak to this particular part of me,” it explained to my unvoiced surprise.
Tyche shook her head. “I still don’t know how you can tell,” she muttered.
“I – “ I started to answer the question, before realizing something. “I don’t know if it would be considered rude to explain how I can tell,” I admitted, glancing at Noah.
“Smooth path, Wisdom,” was the only response I received.  While it probably seemed cryptic to anyone else, the phrase came from a series of very badly written novels I had enjoyed immensely back on Earth. He was telling me it was okay to explain, essentially.
“This body has a crooked finger on the right small-hand,” I gestured. “And one of the sensory spots is different – it isn’t shiny like the rest.”
To my amusement – and Tyche and Conor’s astonishment – Noah used the finger I mentioned to actually point at the sensory spot in question. “Very astute,” it buzzed. “The finger did not harden as quickly as the others as this body matured, and that particular sensory spot is damaged.”
“It’s barely crooked,” my sister whisper-shouted at me. “Barely. How the actual – “
I held up my hands defensively. “I notice that kind of stuff, okay? Now, can we please continue walking toward the medbay so I don’t have to be carried the rest of the way?”
“You could use a transport,” Miys complained as we resumed our journey. “I will never understand why injured humans persist in moving under their own power when they are injured.”
Before I could respond, Conor patted the massive alien’s lower right arm. “It’s the first act of independence in most of our lives, mate.  As long as we can walk, we generally insist on it. It’s a human thing.”
“Idiots,” was the honked response. “But yes, to answer your question, I did bring all of my bodies out of suspension, including the ones that were suspended before I arrived on Earth.”
“Why?” Tyche asked, confused.
“Largely, to manufacture the replacement sensors, and to install them. Secondly, to help keep peace on the Yjq. The general population of the ship is very suspicious, and you seem to like rioting in such times.” The last was stated in such a calm tone that it may as well have been speaking about the weather.
A thought occurred to me, and I didn’t like it one bit. “Are you certain that all of the Baconists have been found?” I asked, trying to keep a neutral tone.
“Yes,” came the response, although it sounded awfully cagey.
Did you read everyone’s thoughts to make sure? I subvocalized angrily.
“Yes, Wisdom.” If a twelve-foot-tall mushroom with no vocal chords could sound ashamed, that is exactly the tone Noah had.  My sister and Conor looked perplexed at the answer to my unvoiced question.
“Here’s a tip, Miys. Read 1984 and think about how humans may perceive what you’re doing,” I spat. “I’m going to bed. You stay here.” Without looking to see if it listened, or if my sister and Conor were still following me, I stalked back to the medbay. Thankfully, I arrived safely: I didn’t remember the journey.  
I had been assured that an audio-only recording of the trials would be made available for the general population of the Ark, but not for several more days to allow time to complete them.  Due to my still-healing injuries, I was exempted from attending the other trials – Simon would sit in my place, as my predecessor. There was a vague part of me that was glad.  After all, while I refused to look at the list of accused, I had not missed the faces that were not present while I was walking to and from the Council Chamber.  I should have walked twice past the lady who kindly made by favorite boudin, but where her cooking area normally was located, nothing remained but an empty alcove and the smell of disinfectant.  The passing crowds had studiously avoided an area that had, only two weeks ago, been notorious for blocking foot traffic as people crowded in for hot, sizzling morsels.  In addition, Eino’s assistant had been someone I was unfamiliar with, and two different living quarters that had previously been occupied were vacant. Ghosts, I thought miserably.
I insisted on being left alone to handle the knowledge that Arantxa had never been my friend, had used me and my family.  I couldn’t bear to look into my sister’s face, knowing what danger she had been in.  Even Conor left me alone, although I could hear him outside my door, his newfound protective urges leading him to enforce my self-selected solitude.
Within thirty hours, a standard ship’s day, Arantxa and all her known conspirators were sentenced and summarily executed.  I refused to ask, wonder out loud, or even let anyone tell me how it had been carried out.  I couldn’t bring myself to talk to anyone, even via data screen or intercoms, leading to Tyche forcing her way into my room. But, even when my sister and Antoine spent hours in my medical bay staring at me and exchanging concerned looks, it was all I could to just to keep from screaming uncontrollably.  At night, I was haunted by fragmented nightmares and an accented voice taunting me.  
“Humanity is a plague…”
“…can we not just die properly!?”
“Ridiculous woman just adopts people….”
The analytical side of me understood the logic behind the… sentences. To protect Derek from any charges, the Council had decided to try Arantxa under Galactic Law, and when they decided that, execution was immediately on the table.  There weren’t facilities on the ship where we could safely imprison the group, and it wasn’t safe to let them interact with other people on the ship.  Even if we had the facilities, we still had an estimated nine years before we reached our new home.  Where would we keep them once we arrived?  The only way to address the danger they posed was to get rid of it, entirely.
The human side of me was not mollified in the slightest by the logical arguments.
Each time Miys came to check on my status, I shut out the buzzing concern at how much weight I’d lost, how haggard I was looking. My eyes shut tightly, I just turned my head toward the wall and focused on thinking about nothing. If I didn’t think, I didn’t have to acknowledge that all of this was more than a terrible dream.  Maybe, eventually, I would wake up.  When I got desperate for distraction, I would sing song lyrics in my head – the most annoying, catchy tunes I could think of, as loudly as possible.
After weeks, Simon came by in person. Still, I refused to speak to him or subvocalize responses to Noah, and by this point, I had been placed on intravenous feeding and restrained to prevent pulling the tube out. At night, Noah would sedate me to quiet the nightmares. “Sophia,” he sighed as he sat in my sister’s chair by my bedside. “This isn’t you, and I know it.”
I just stared at the ceiling, trying to recall each and every tillandsia in my quarters.  Tyche already told me they were being cared for by either herself or Conor.  I imagined how happy the little plants were.  Raindrops are falling on my head…and just like the guy whose feet are too big for his bed….
He just puffed indignantly at my lack of response. “You know, Miys offered to come in here with me and tell me what you were thinking about.  I felt that wouldn’t be fair, so I asked them to let me try this solo.” I heard him take a deep breath. “I know you feel betrayed. I feel the same way, though probably not to the degree you do.  She was my assistant, at one point, you know.”
I felt a quirk of interest at that bit of information, immediately trying to squash it back down.  Nope, no real world, thank you. Nothing seems to fit…those raindrops –
“Some of the things they did, I know she learned from me,” he continued blithely. “After all, you took my place on the Council.  But there were things she knew, systems she was familiar with, that you had no reason to be aware of.  The layout of the ship, for starters – at first, I was the one responsible for giving ships tours to all the new arrivals, until we reached about five thousand people on board, I believe.  Every time I walk through the corridors, I want to vomit.  I was the one to tell her about the sensors, too.  She asked me one day how I was able to know where everyone was most recently, and I was all too excited to show her how the corridor sensors track our data bands….”
Why was he telling me all this?
“I think we all try to take the blame onto ourselves,” he sighed. “If it weren’t for me, she wouldn’t have been able to keep you in the dark for so long. You’re too keen for that; Clarity. Conor feels like he should have noticed something, but his Amity clouded his Perception, and that’s one of the best parts of humanity, even if he doesn’t realize it: our desire to see the best in people rather than the worst.  Tyche wants to heal you through sheer force of her Will, and by God if anyone could do it, she could.” He chuckled before sobering. “But I think what we all seem to be missing is what makes humanity so unique.  I mean, sure, we can see, but we’re also individuals.  Each and every one of us is a completely different person, with our own minds, and our experiences.  Somehow, we manage to work together, even to understand invisible queues from each other that enable us to throw and catch, work silently together, act in tandem.
“But that’s just our subconscious minds – our lizard brains – reading miniscule clues from each other.  Some people, like Xiomara, are like predators and can see just enough to work in a unit but not enough to avoid stepping on people’s toes or rubbing them the wrong way. Others, like you and your sister, are more like prey animals and can read queues from an entire room without realizing it.  But, no matter how well we can read those queues, understand each other without words, we are still separate people.  We still have our own unique passions and tastes, and process information differently enough to have stimulating conversation and reach a multitude of discoveries faster than a single person could.  It’s absolutely fascinating.”
Would you just get to the point and let me go back to sleep? I thought grouchily.
His neck popped as his head whipped to face me.  To my horror, I realized I had subvocalized that thought and that Noah likely relayed it to him. “My point, Sophia, is that we are not a hive-minded species like the Hujylsogox is. Which means Arantxa Bidarte was her own person, and the only person responsible for her actions is her.  None of us could have prevented it, and I know you’re aware of that because you told Conor as much the day before her trial.  Take the time you need, but you don’t get to lay down and die.  You survived a ten-year apocalypse, and I watched you come back from someone’s determined craving for rare roast-beast.  There is no way the Sophia Reid I know would let a ghost kick her ass.
“After all,” he smiled smugly. “I didn’t.” With that, he stood and left the room.
For the first time in weeks, I took a voluntary drink of water in an effort to wet the dry and sore tissues in my mouth.  I thought about what Simon said, about reading the room, and hive minds. His last comment stuck out in my mind – even knowing the intention was to antagonize me, he was right.  She had been his administrator as well, and he was dealing with a lot of the same guilt I was.  But Simon had been able to walk down here from his cave, bathed and fed, and speak to me.  Was I really going to let the memory of someone who betrayed me push me into a death-spiral of depression?  I hadn’t even let the memories of beloved people that I longed to join do that. Why did she deserve the privilege?
“Fuck,” I muttered emphatically.
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Godzilla: King of the Monsters or It’s All About That Queen Bee Though
Godzilla: King of the Monsters was a very cool movie. Yes, it was pretty stupid, but was it also a gloriously fun, utterly ridiculous romp? Definitely. Warner Bros. knew we wanted to watch a bunch of massive monsters beat the ever-loving shit out of each other, and they certainly delivered on that front. As with any Godzilla movie, the main problem was that they spent too much time on the tiny, insignificant people and not enough on the aforementioned battling titans. However, there were some notable ladies featured amongst the squishy humans.
*Godzilla: King of the Monsters spoilers follow*
The first on screen conversation takes place between two women, Dr. Emma Russell (Vera Farmiga) and her daughter Madison (Millie Bobby Brown). Dr. Russell is evidently an exceptional scientist, as she has invented a device to communicate with, and to some extent control, the titans. She is also portrayed as brave and compassionate, risking her life to run to the aid of Mothra with her ORCA device. In addition, she wants her daughter to be strong and to experience what life has to offer, helping her to stroke Mothra once it has calmed down. She then guides her through the horrors of being held captive with the advice, “Eyes straight ahead, deep breaths, just like we talked about.” She isn’t shielding Madison from what is happening, but trying to help her to cope with it on her own.
However, it soon turns out that Dr. Russell is one of the villains of the movie, as she approached the eco terrorist Jonah Alan (Charles Dance) rather than being abducted by him, as it first appeared. As such, she is responsible for countless deaths in the movie, regardless of whether or not she is acting for the greater good of the planet. On the other hand, she is unwavering in the defence of her decisions and ethics, and even after the movie has declared her a baddie she is still portrayed as rational and somewhat empathetic.  She justifies her actions as being for the benefit of her daughter, and perhaps her daughter’s whole generation: “I couldn’t be more sane and Madison couldn’t be stronger. At least now she has a fighting chance.” At least Dr. Russell is granted a redemptive end - she dies saving not only her family, but arguably the entire planet, from the destructive forces of Ghidorah. It’s still shitty that she dies, no two ways about it, but at least she is granted some agency. Once a film like this declares you a villain you don’t stand a chance - it’s a noble sacrifice on her part and she isn’t just squashed by a giant monster foot while delivering a monologue about how her plans were right all along.
One of Dr. Russell’s plans does come to fruition, and that is that Madison becomes an incredibly strong young woman. She goes from slyly flipping off Jonah at the start of the movie to literally standing down Ghidorah and screaming right back in his fucking face. Now, it could well be argued that these are not the most considered of actions, but it cannot be denied that Madison has some nerve. In addition to being categorically courageous, Madison is also intelligent and principled. When she sees that Ghidorah’s rampage is becoming uncontrollable, she not only steals the ORCA from under the nose of a group of highly organised armed terrorists and escapes their fortified secret base, taking the time to appropriately supply herself for her journey (like no one in movies ever does!), but she also figures out the most effective location to broadcast from and operates the ORCA independently. Kudos to Madison, she knows what she’s doing. She does end up having to be rescued by her parents but two things are worth remembering at this point: firstly, Madison has just done her bit to save the entire planet and secondly, she is still a child. She’s more than allowed to run scared for a moment when a three-headed, lightning-breathing dragon from space is trying to cause the end of days.
Dr. Vivienne Graham (Sally Hawkins) reprises her role from the first film, and we are treated to a brief reminder of what a competent, intrepid scientist and eloquent, fearless defender of Godzilla she is before she is unceremoniously felled by Ghidorah. I didn’t even notice her death, and while it’s true I might have been taking notes and missed it, I was informed by a small piece of text on a character’s computer screen, which seems like an unnecessarily dismissive way to end the life of such an intrinsic character to the series.
Perhaps in an attempt to compensate for the loss of Dr. Graham, several new named female characters were introduced, and credit where credit’s due, pretty much all of these women are immediately addressed by their name and title. This not only shows them the respect they are due, but saved me the kind of IMDB credits trawling I usually have to do when writing a review. We meet another of Monarch’s top scientists, Dr. Ilene Chen (Ziyi Zhang). She is notable not only for her scientific competency, but also for her heritage, as she reveals she is the direct descendant of one of the female founders of Monarch, and shows a selection of photos of completely badass looking explorers and scientists that make up her family, all of whom are women. Her twin sister, Dr. Ling (also Ziyi Zhang) also briefly features, although she is seemingly working for the terrorists. We don’t see much of her except for an appropriately awed look at the hatching of Mothra, but it’s safe to assume by her presence at the site that she is an equally accomplished scientist. Dr. Chen is also notable for being an advocate of not blowing Godzilla to smithereens, pointing out that, “slaying dragons is a western concept.”
Another new female character is Colonel Diane Foster (Aisha Hinds), an extremely competent officer and woman of colour, who seems to be in charge of the military branch of Monarch’s operations. She continues to excel throughout the movie, surviving the attack that killed Dr. Graham and continuing to lead others safely through danger until the end. Foster is shown to be a strong leader as well as a distinguished field officer - she is a highly skilled sniper who cares deeply about saving innocent lives.
Black women continue to occupy positions of power, if not leading roles, in Godzilla: King of the Monsters, as further exemplified by Senator Williams (CCH Pounder), who presides over the Monarch hearing at the start of the film and appears to have the power to turn the whole organisation over to the military if she so chooses. Women do very much inhabit the world of this movie, with many women being present of all sides of the conflict as scientists, soldiers and terrorists alike. Although I’m not sure we hear all their names, many are credited, including Asaj (Tracy Garrison), one of Jonah’s team, First Lieutenant Griffin (Elizabeth Ludlow), Lieutenant Bottin (Natalie Shaheen), G-Team Officer Harryhausen (Shauna Rappold), Argo Officer Arvin (Skylar Denney), Argo Officer Cross (Kelli Garner) and a news anchor (Fiona Hardingham) who is one of the first voices we hear in the movie. The fact that two of these characters are named for practical effects superstars tells me that they held a special place in the hearts of the movie makers.
However wonderful all of these women are, let’s talk about the real leading lady of this movie - Mothra. Not only is she utterly radiant and resplendent, she can hold her own in a fight -  penetrating Rodan with her stinger - and apparently has the monumental power of the ability to resurrect Godzilla. In short, she’s amazing. She is also the only titan to be named as female, which makes it all the more shitty that she’s the only one - other than the big bad Ghidorah - to die. It seems even female kaiju aren’s safe from the played out and tired fate of dying for the benefit of their male counterparts. Now, my little brother (who is more of a Gozilla expert than me) texted me as soon as he knew I’d seen the movie to tell me not to worry and that Mothra is apparently immortal, because he knew I’d be so cross and sad about this. Thanks, baby bro. However, as this is not addressed in the movie, I have to stand by my initial assessment that Mothra’s death is pure garbage.
Overall, the women in Godzilla: King of the Monsters are incredibly strong and adept in a wide variety of fields ranging from science to combat, are without exception incredibly brave, and most of them hold to a high moral code. Furthermore, for a monster movie where presumably thousands of people are slaughtered, their mortality rate isn’t too bad. I think one more named male character dies than female, but this doesn’t make the loss of talented female scientists on screen any easier to swallow. Also, they killed Mothra, so I can never forgive them. Well, not until she comes back in a sequel and fucks up some even bigger bastards because you know I will watch another Godzilla movie, no hesitation. On balance, this is an absolutely ridiculous movie about giant dragons murdering each other, so I think we’re lucky that so many competent human women were featured at all.
And now for some asides:
Umm, excuse me, was that casually Atlantis? And did you blow it up?
Also did this movie low-key endorse hollow Earth theory?
Thank you, Godzilla: King of the Monsters, for the gift of someone ejector-seating straight into Rodan’s fiery maw. You truly know your audience.
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a few headcanons about sabina wilson. 
background. 
she is 29 years old and has been part of the townsend agency for seven years.  her birthday is oct. 29. 
she is a lesbian,  though she rarely ever labels herself.  she doesn’t get into many relationships because she’s constantly moving around,  but it’s not something she’s opposed to if she finds the right woman.  she just hasn’t had many serious relationships,  so when something does feel serious,  she jumps in too quickly.  she was engaged once when she was 26,  after dating the woman for a month. there was a gunfight at her wedding but she was the better shot  (  i’ll expand on this later on. )  
she grew up wealthy,  though she sees it as being ‘ powerless & ashamed. ‘  she has abandonment issues and spent a lot of her childhood very alone.  she was rebellious in response + getting into trouble,  always acting out in hopes that her parents may do something about it.  but it backfired;  instead of being there for her more,  she was always being sent away to different facilities.  through that,  and after a few various arrests,  the townsend agency found her and took her in.  she became an angel in 2012,  when she was 22.
she has a sister named mercedes, who is ten years younger than her.  when she was born,  her parents made a better effort to be around more,  which only pushed sabina away more too.  but any resentment she had was never directed towards her sister.  she loved her,  and she’s her favorite person in the world,  but she can’t really be around her family anymore.  she misses her and often thinks of sending her letters,  but she doesn’t,  not wanting to disrupt any sort of peace she may have.  she was always really good with mercedes,  and they got along really well,  so that’s on her mind often. 
she has a criminal record that includes breaking & entering, assault & battery,  grand theft auto, and identity theft.  
personality.
she thinks mission talk is awkward and funny which is why she’s always smiling / laughing whenever she has to use it.  ( ex:  ‘ the coast is clear. ‘ )  it’s not embarrassing,  it’s just funny to her ----  mostly because she never used to believe she would have any kind of importance in the world like she does now.  now,  she’s part of a big operation that relies on her,  so talking like that,  feeling ‘ important ‘ is still really strange to her,  but she often acts nonchalant about it.
she’s known for taking things that aren’t hers and brushing it off like it was the obvious thing to do.  even when people warn her that she shouldn’t take things,  she rarely listens,  or she does and she pretends she doesn’t recall hearing it.  she takes advantage of her power in the sense that she makes herself feel invincible whenever she’s stealing a car, etc.  she pretends she’s invincible despite having been arrested for grand theft auto,  breaking & entering,  and identity theft before.  she does the same thing with the agency too,  keeping a lot of the clothes she likes for herself rather than returning them,  because she knows how replaceable they are and how they cycle through girls all the time enough to not really notice if they’re missing.  she doesn’t do it with weapons from the agency,  though ----  at least not usually.
she’s a bit insensitive in that she’s too blunt too quickly without thinking first.  she means well though,  and she cares a lot,  sometimes her head just can’t keep up with her mouth.
she’s aware she’s not very book smart,  but she makes up for it in other areas:  street smarts,  fighting,  stealth,  manipulation,  etc.  but when she does know something that people wouldn’t expect her to know,  and she gets the opportunity to sound / seem smart,  she gets really prideful and never lets anyone forget about it. 
she holds grudges --- over people,  places,  things,  anything.  and it’s usually of the most petty things,  too.  one small thing goes wrong and she never forgets it.  and she will never stop reminding jane that she shoved her off a roof. '  because it’s so easy for her to hold grudges,  she’s also quick to have trust issues the second anything feels off. 
she is really encouraging.  she may not always have the best things to say,  but she does mean well and she tries to remind people that they’re doing well when it’s deserved.  she knows that kind of positive encouragement + thinking is very important in their line of work.  they have to know they’re capable of what they need to do,  so she reminds them. 
she has a lot of pride in what she does,  and it often leads to her showing off.  but she acts very nonchalant about it, like it’s no big deal  ----  but she likes what she’s capable of and she likes showing people,  even if the people she’s around have the same capabilities.  
she is really good with kids,  not necessarily taking care of them,  but keeping them occupied,  making them laugh,  being their friend,  etc.  she pays a little closer attention whenever kids are near missions because she hates the idea of them getting hurt.  it’s always reminding her of her younger sister,  and how she would never want her to be put in any danger.   and although mercedes is much older now,  sabina’s memories of her are from when she was a child,  so getting to be playful with other kids feels reminiscent of her sister. 
she has a hard time accepting defeat because she’s very stubborn.  she is cocky and prideful,  so when something doesn’t go her way,  it annoys her and she isn’t silent about it.  in response,  she’s normally quick to kick / punch something in annoyance. 
if a mission is at a party,  bar,  etc.,  she takes advantage and drinks on the job. 
ticks.
she often gets her words jumbled.  it rarely ever happens when she’s in disguise;  she’s great at playing her roles.  it’s when she’s just being herself,  talking to the people she’s closed to,  that she gets more flustered.  
she rambles all the time and gets way off track.  she’s aware she does this and she cannot stop it.   [  “i know i can be really annoying.  i don’t try to be.  i don’t have the filter thing other people do.”  ]  
she uses sound effects wherever she seems fit,  even if it’s not entirely appropriate.  it goes back to how she finds mission talk to be a bit awkward and funny  ---  she likes to poke fun at what she does,  because it aids in how carefree she can act about it all,  despite actually being serious about her work.  
she is constantly joking while she’s in danger.  it’s her way of making herself feel safe and brushing the danger off like it’s no big deal / she can handle it.  
fighting.
she’s dramatic & obnoxious,  and she takes advantage of it.  she’s aware that a lot of people find her annoying,  but she knows that can be useful too  ----  like when jane told her to use attention seeking behavior.  something that people are normally annoyed by can also be used at their advantage,  and sabina loves the opportunity to go out of her way and be obnoxious.
she prefers close-distance fighting.  her go to moves are headbutting, kicking, elbowing,  and stomping  (  primarily on men.  )  she’s a good shot,  but she definitely prefers hand to hand contact over guns and knives.  
she prefers anything with bigger risks.  she’s an adrenaline junkie,   always putting herself right in the middle of danger   ----  but she’s not always impulsive or too reckless.  she can tell when other people are being reckless and is quick to try to stop them,  but she also understands what it feels like to just go for something.
she is good at manipulation and sticking to her roles,  for the most part,  but she’s not as great as hiding her annoyances when she’s with a someone she can tell is really bland or dumb.  she can continue on with her role,  but her comments often contrast that.   while she is only interested in women,  she’s good at figuring out what men want to hear,  and she uses that to her advantage when she’s pretending to flirt with them & reel them into a plan.  while she’s good at fake-dating men,  it’s one of the most annoying things for her to do,  and she spends most of her time afterwards laughing about the things they’ve done / said just to combat her annoyances.  
she has a high tolerance for pain and it doesn’t really bother her anymore.  she thinks it’s cooler if something more dramatic happened to her that she actually lived through.
style.
she has kept her hair short since she was sixteen.  her mother had always encouraged her to keep it long,  which is why she cut it all off in the first place,  but soon realized she preferred it that way.  she cut it even shorter when she joined the townsend agency because it’s more practical.  it stays out of her way,  or it fits best under wigs + other disguises.  
she wears a lot of two-piece matching pattern suits.  she has an eccentric style,  doesn’t follow any trends,  and prefers looks that are a bit chaotic. 
when she’s playing a role,  she prefers disguises that are so far out of her normal comfort zone.  she likes taking on entirely different looks because it aids in whatever role she’s trying to fit into.  it’s one of the most fun parts of it all for her.  
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