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genshin-impact-writings · 3 years

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May I request a songfic for Wicked Game for Childe x reader? Like, he's in love with the reader but he keeps pushing them away because he feels like it makes him weak etc. Can have a sad or happy ending, whichever you prefer! ❤️

I'm so, so sorry for the long wait, dear! But I couldn't decide where I wanted to go with this, so I kept working on other requests but it's finally done. I really hope you're still interested in this and like what I came up with. I decided to write a more happy ending because I wasn't in the mood for making it angsty, hope you don't mind that. Anyway, have fun reading and take care! <3

Btw, I listened to this version of the song while I was working on this.

Wicked Game – Tartaglia/Childe x gn!reader

The world was on fire and no one could save me but you It's strange what desire will make foolish people do I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you And I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you

The day he had met you was one he would never forget. With nothing more than a single glance and a soft smile you somehow had flipped his whole world upside down, a world he had carefully constructed around himself when he became the Eleventh of the Fatui Harbingers. It was almost funny, really. No one had ever managed to throw him for a loop, not even the strongest enemies he had to face on the battlefield – until he had stumbled upon you on that fateful day in Liyue Harbor. Suddenly, nothing he knew before seemed to make sense anymore. And after a few seconds of staring at you, he realized that he was irretrievably lost.

Lost in the way you smiled at him and the other customers that came to the small tea shop you worked at. Lost in the way your pretty eyes gleamed in the pale light of the moon when he saw you after dark. Lost in the warmth and comfort he always felt when you were around.

And as the time progressed and weeks and months went by, Tartaglia understood that it was more than just a crush. He was so in love with you that it almost hurt him physically.

And yet, he knew that he couldn’t allow himself to feel like that. For someone like him, it was dangerous to care about someone, not only because his enemies would never miss an opportunity to hurt him by hurting the ones he loved but also because feelings like these were nothing more than a distraction, a hindrance that kept him from completely focusing on his missions. Tartaglia couldn’t afford messing up, not when he didn’t want to disappoint the Tsaritsa. After all, he had sworn an oath, an oath to always put her and her interests first, and he couldn’t do that when someone – when you were all he could think of. You were the first person who crossed his mind as soon as he woke up and the last one he saw before drifting off to sleep in the evening. It was wonderful and terrible at the same time, and yet, there was nothing he could do to stop himself from falling deeper in love with you.

It would be smart to avoid you, hoping that these feelings would disappear someday but still, he found himself visiting the little tea shop you worked at every day. It was embarrassing, really, given the fact that he knew absolutely nothing about tea but instead of listening to you as you explained the tea varieties and different ways of preparation, he kept staring at you, taking in your beauty and indulging in the warm, fuzzy feeling that always welled up inside him when the two of you crossed paths.

And the fact that you seemed to like him too didn’t make things easier. It was so hard to pretend that he didn’t care for you, to push you away over and over again, but for the sake of your safety – and to protect his stupid, foolish heart from shattering into a million pieces – he needed to keep you at distance. He needed to be strong, not only for his homeland but also for you – he needed to protect you from himself and from the things he did in the past and would do in the future.

Even if it meant that he would end up alone again.

Even if it meant that he had to break your heart.

No, I don't wanna fall in love (this world is only gonna break your heart) No, I don't wanna fall in love (this world is only gonna break your heart) With you With you

Tartaglia had started avoiding you one and a half weeks ago, not visiting the tea shop once and heading into the opposite direction as soon as he saw you on the streets, and still his heart started to beat faster when he thought about you or heard someone mention your name. He hated to act like this; he hated to hurt your feelings but what else could he do? You’d be better off without him, as well as he’d be better off without these distracting feelings.

At least, that was what he tried to tell himself.

And it worked surprisingly well – until he bumped into you on your way to work that morning. He hadn’t noticed you at first, or else he would’ve chosen another way to get to Northland Bank, but now it was too late to turn around and leave.

“I’m sorry,” he said, carefully avoiding your gaze as he helped you picking up your belongings that you had dropped. “I didn’t see you.”

Your lips curled into a soft smile. “It’s no big deal,” you replied. “How have you been? I haven’t seen you at the shop for a while.”

“Oh, about that…” He didn’t finish his sentence. It had been foolish to believe that you wouldn’t notice it. One time, you had even called out his name when you saw him near the shop, only to see him fobbing you off with a brief wave of his hand before turning around and leaving without giving you another glance. “Well…”

“You’re probably bored by my rambling about tea, huh?” you guessed, still smiling at him like you were really glad to see him again. “Don’t worry, I’m not offended if you are.”

“No, that’s not – that’s not the case.”

Your eyes were twinkling in amusement, and before he could look away again, he suddenly found himself staring into your eyes, his stupid heart skipping a beat as your smile grew wider. “That’s good to know,” you said softly. “But I was thinking… maybe we could meet up later, I mean, when – when the shop’s closed. You know, like-“

“Like a date,” he finished your sentence, his mouth suddenly so dry that he barely managed to get the words out. No, no, no, this couldn’t be true. How was he supposed to reject you when you asked him for a date, looking at him with his hopeful expression in your eyes? Just how?

“If you don’t want to that’s fine, too,” you mumbled, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

Tartaglia chuckled. “If I don’t want to?” he repeated and shook his head in disbelief. “Oh, (Y/N), I’d love to go out with you.” The words were out before he could stop himself. He knew that it wasn’t right, that he should take it back right now but as soon as he saw the genuine happiness in your eyes, he knew that there was no way back. And, if he was completely honest for a second, he didn’t want that anyways.

“I’ll pick you up at your house at – um, let’s say, tomorrow at 8?”

“Perfect.”

What a wicked game you play, to make me feel this way What a wicked thing to do, to let me dream of you What a wicked thing to say, you never felt this way What a wicked thing to do, to make me dream of you

He didn’t show up.

Once again, you darted a nervous glance at the clock above the table, probably for the millionth time today. It was already half past 9 and Tartaglia was nowhere to be seen. An hour ago, you had tried to calm yourself down by telling yourself that he would be here any second now, that he was held up by someone or something but now, it was hard to think positive.

With a quiet sigh, you plunked yourself down on the couch. Tartaglia had stood you up, and it was stupid to deceive yourself by trying to tell you otherwise. He obviously had no interest in going out with you, it was easy as that. Perhaps he had only agreed in the first place because he didn’t know how to tell you No, or maybe he had fun going around and making others feel absolutely miserable.

You didn’t know, and you didn’t care.

No, that was actually a lie. You cared. You wanted to know what was wrong, why he wasn’t here with you right now and why he had started to act like you weren’t even friends anymore about two weeks ago. Overnight, he had changed his behavior completely, starting with not visiting the tea shop anymore through to blatantly ignoring you whenever your paths crossed. But no matter how hard you tried to make sense of it, you simply didn’t understand it.

And the fact that he invited you on a date, only to stand you up, confused you even more. His behavior made no sense at all, whichever way you looked at it.

You sighed again. In the beginning, your relationship had been so easy. You never had any trouble understanding him and you had always assumed that he liked to spend time with you. Heck, for a while you had even thought that he returned the feelings you had for him.

But apparently, he didn’t.

You buried your face in your hands, trying to fight back the tears that were welling up in your eyes. What kind of game was he playing? Did he even realize how much his behavior hurt you?

And I don't wanna fall in love (this world is only gonna break your heart) No, I don't wanna fall in love (this world is only gonna break your heart) With you

“You! Stop right there!”

Tartaglia froze as he heard your angry voice. For a brief moment, he considered acting like he hadn’t heard you and just walk on by but deep down, he knew that he owed you an apology and an explanation why he hadn’t shown up to your date almost one week ago. The truth was that he really had wanted to go out with you – but at the same time, he had seen the opportunity to make you hate him by standing you up which would hopefully help him to get over you.

So much for that, he thought to himself as he slowly turned around to you. You were staring at him, your eyes filled with pent-up anger. “I was convinced you’d ignore me again,” you said, arms akimbo. “But it seems you’ve finally gathered the courage to talk to me after you skipped out on me last week.”

“Yeah, about that-“

“Stop,” you interrupted him. “I don’t want to hear your half-assed apologies. I just want you to listen to what I have to say.”

He pressed his lips together and nodded. In all this time he had never seen you so angry and it was obvious that you were about to release a tirade but he knew very well that he deserved it. He deserved that you didn’t even give him the change to explain himself.

You huffed at the contrite expression on his face. “I’m not going to fall for that,” you warned him. “So don’t even try.”

Tartaglia nodded again, still not saying anything, just as you had told him.

“Great. Listen, I really don’t want to steal your precious time,” you replied in an undertone of utter sarcasm, “I just want to understand what’s going on. We’re friends, aren’t we? Damn, my silly self even thought that we could be more than that for a second but that’s not – that’s not the point now. I only want to know why you treat me like I am not in the least important to you all of a sudden.”

When he didn’t reply anything, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Hello? Haven’t you got a tongue in your head?”

“I don’t know what you want to hear, (Y/N).”

“The truth, Tartaglia,” you stated simply. “I don’t need any apologies or justifications. Just the truth.”

Tartaglia shook his head. There was no way he could tell you the truth because then, he’d have to explain why he was so afraid of falling love, why he was so afraid of being weak. This was none of your business; it was his burden, not yours. You shouldn’t even worry about things like that; you should be in your shop, happily smiling at customers instead of wasting your time with someone like him.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you said when the silence between the two of you became unbearable, your voice shaking ever so slightly. “If you don’t want to be with me, just tell me. I can take it. But stop acting like you care, only to ignore me the day after! Stop pushing me around like that.”

Tartaglia was painfully aware of the fact that you were on the verge of tears. Everything about your posture told him that you were about to lose your composure, and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to say something. He knew that he had treated you like garbage, that he had hurt your feelings over and over again but what was he supposed to do now? There was nothing he could do, nothing he could say to turn back time and wipe the slate clean.

“I’m sorry,” he finally whispered, completely helpless, while you stood there with hanging shoulders as tears started to stream down your beautiful face. “I’m so sorry.”

“I should’ve known better,” you sobbed. “I should’ve known better than to fall in love with someone like you!”

In that moment, he felt his protective instinct kick in. It didn’t matter that he had promised himself to stay away from you or that he was the reason for your tears. All he wanted now was to comfort you, to reassure you that everything would be fine again.

In an instant, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to his body, his hands gently caressing your back as you buried your face in his chest. “Don’t cry,” he mumbled, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. “Please, darling, don’t cry.”

He held you close, uttering apology after apology and patiently waiting for you to calm down. When you finally pulled away, your eyes were puffy and red-rimmed. Your lower lip was trembling, almost as if you were trying to fight back even more tears. “I hate you.”

“I know,” Tartaglia replied softly and reached out to brush a strand of hair from your forehead. “I deserve that.”

“I don’t really hate you,” you whispered.

“I know,” he repeated and cupped your face with both hands, gently wiping away the tears on your cheeks before he leaned in and brushed his lips against yours in a soft, almost chaste kiss. It didn’t last long, and yet it was enough to make him realize that being in love with you didn’t make him weak. It made him strong.

The world was on fire and no one could save me but you.

#tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #genshin x reader #childe genshin x reader #tartaglia genshin imagine #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #gn!reader #gender neutral reader #tartaglia x gn!reader #childe x gn!reader #reader insert #songfic

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embrassemoi · 3 years

Text

Surrounded by the Moon and Stars • 06

Pairings: Sirius Black x [F]Reader, Remus Lupin x [F]Reader Content: Language, possible errors, music snob!Remus, Author’s notes: song used: Come Together by The Beatles

BTW: I always try to use little to no physical descriptions for the reader insert but I did add that the reader has some sort of hair. I didn't mention hair texture or length (Sorry if ur bald). My taller readers, I only mentioned that you were shorter than Remus (no height was given)

Masterlist: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter 6: ABBA vs. The Beatles

❉───────•~❉•᯽•❉~•───────❉

“Merlin’s beard! Binns is a sadist; torturing students must be his only pastime,” James yawned, taking his glasses off to rub his eyes.

Nothing could ever compare to the History of Magic. Today, lessons were dreadful and muddy. Professor Binns’ monotone voice filtered throughout the class, rambling on and on about various dates in history. Hardly anyone paid attention before he started calling on students. Annoyed, Binns would continue to reiterate his inquiry until the student(s) got the correct answer, no matter how long it took.

A sadist indeed.

Although Binns wasn’t the sole reason why the class was pathetic, but rather the lack of any practical work was simply a joke. The class only reminded Y/N of her short time in public school. Geometry? Utterly useless for any daily life interactions. To make matters worse, Binns surprised the class with a pop-quiz and two chapters of reading. Luckily, he had an ounce of mercy in his ghostly body and dismissed the class early for lunch.

James continued, “I would rather fight a dragon than — Woah! Your hair! “

She glanced to look at herself through the reflection in James’ glasses. Her hair, which originally was emerald green, was now turning into a golden yellow. The different colours clashed together boldly.

“You look like the banner for the Holyhead Harpies,” Peter said, striding up to James’ side.

“The Holyhead Harpies,” James said dreamily, “They’re probably one of my favourite teams.

Remus, who had been trailing behind Peter jumps in, “You only like them because they’re all women, you wanker.” He turns to Peter, his hand shooting up to the side of his head, massaging small circles into his temples, “Why’d you get him going?”

James became insufferable whenever someone or something mentioned Quidditch. Not only would he boast about his abilities as a Chaser, but he seemingly was a never-ending encyclopedia about Quidditch. It only worsened as November neared, the start of the new Quidditch season was approaching.

One time Y/N found herself stuck listening to him babble about Ireland winning the world cup for about thirty minutes. She didn’t have the heart to stop him, though. Nobody listened to his rants and he could hardly contain his excitement. How could she tell him she wasn’t interested?

A monstrous smirk etched its way onto his face, “Caught me.”

“Be anymore of a predator would ya, Prongs?”

“Hey! That’s not the only reason why I like them. Did you forget their victory in 1953 against the Heidelberg Harriers? Their strategy was blood-fucking-brilliant. They’re legendary! My father was there to see it in person. Lucky bastard. He told me…”

His voice fades into the background as Y/N catches Remus’ eyes. A glint of mischief shined through them before he forced a fake pitiful smile. He mouthed a quick ‘sorry’ to her before looping his arm around Peter’s shoulder, discreetly leaving James’ side and out of the classroom.

That sly, slippery bastard.

"— and did I mention that their seeker was one of the most sought out —”

“Wait, James.”

He abruptly pauses, waiting patiently for her to continue. She leads them out into the corridor and towards the great hall. “Sorry, didn’t mean to cut you off like that, but when is my hair going back to normal?”

Y/N instantly regretted mentioning her hair. There was no trace of a smile on James. His shoulders slumped a bit and his walking even staggered. “Godric, I know, I know and I’m sorry. I thought it would have returned back to normal by now. I’ve been creating reversal spells — even started asking Moony to help.”

“Moony?”

“Remus.”

“Another one of your nicknames?”

“It’s not a nickname! It’s a brotherhood — a pack!”

“Oh, sorry Prongs,” she drawled, a sarcastic smile on her face, “If I didn’t know you I would assume you were an asshole.”

“What? How?!”

“You go around calling yourself a marauder, the king of Quidditch and now Prongs. Seems pretty assholely.”

James’ mouth opens before closing again, repeating the process several times.

“Plus, you pull silly pranks every day.”

He chuckles, “Oi! You helped us with that itching idea!”

Her eyebrows raised in acknowledgement, “Touché.”

To this, James shakes his head, directing the conversation back to the Holyhead Harpies. Inwardly, Y/N wanted to whack him with a broomstick.

They were among the first students to reach the Great Hall, aside from students who had a free or were excused early by Professor Binns. None of the girls were there yet. Unfortunately, Marlene was held back by Binns, so Y/N was left to sit beside James who sat opposite to Remus, Peter and Sirius.

She had been trying her best to avoid Sirius whenever she could. It was clear he didn’t like her. He never laughed whenever she made a joke, he hardly noticed her, he never praised her, even if she tried to compliment him. He was just rude for no apparent reason. The rest of the marauders and girls knew this, although they preferred not to comment about the obvious, strained relationship (which they didn’t even know the reason for. Granted, Y/N wasn't quite sure herself. Was it the rejection, he just didn't like her or is just an ass?).

Although, ignoring and avoiding him proved to be extremely challenging. Y/N was glued to Lily’s hip ever since the Sorting Ceremony. It also didn’t help that if you were with one marauder, another one was sure to follow. She and James started to spend more time with each other, and by extension, she was obligated to be around at least one other marauder. With the addition of study sessions with Remus, it was inevitable.

Surprisingly, Sirius hadn’t made any snarky remarks, excluding dirty looks, he was being… nice — nicer to her. The action was a stark contrast from his previous behaviour and she speculated a few reasons why:

Most likely, James or Lily, she assumed the former, said something to him. Since his little spat with James at breakfast a few weeks ago, Sirius was tight-lipped ever since.

Maybe he was done being a prick, deciding to stop by himself after realizing he was a prick.

Went through something personal, it stopped, and his behaviour improved.

Minutes after the bell rang, students began to trickle in for lunch. The comfortable chatter rose as Y/N finished eating an apple. Everyone seemed pleased when James’ Quidditch lecture was interrupted as hundreds of owls streamed in, packages and letters dropping into the laps of students. She hadn’t expected anything considering her owl, Celeste, didn’t drop anything off since the first week of October. However, today she fluttered down between the bread and fruit bowls, dropping off several letters and a small parcel onto Y/N’s plate, pecking at the bread crumbs on the table. She tore the letter open, inside it said:

Dear Y/N,

Are you still having a hard time with Charms? If so, perhaps I find some textbooks and send them over.

Don’t slack off this year. Send me a letter whenever you have the chance. (Make sure to tell Celeste to be quieter next time. You know I can, and never will get used to the owls.)

Mom

Her mother finally wrote to her. A sense of joy flooded her body as she placed the letter back down on the oak table. A part of her wondered if Celeste was dropping off her letters to the wrong house, the one back in Toronto as her mother never wrote back. She opened the next letter, immediately recognizing the messy scrawl:

October 19, 1975

Y/N! I thought you replaced me with one of your brits, but a false alarm, your letters just take a while to arrive. Must be tiring for Celeste to travel to and from Scotland then America and back. You know, whenever people see her fly in, they still recognize her.

Are you doing anything for Halloween? We’re throwing another dance. Going to be alone this year now that I can’t force you to come. I guess I’ll just watch half the school dry hump each other while I smuggle in firewhiskey.

How’s it going over there? I heard from a few students, even read in the papers about the war. It’s getting pretty crazy over here. Teachers have been meeting and trying to prevent students and parents from losing their shit. My mom has been worried too, writing to me like a lunatic and I’m not even in the UK. The MACUSA have been keeping quiet but they were caught having meetings with counsellors from the Ministry of Magic. Even heard that Jenkins is stepping down. If it keeps getting out of hand here, I can’t imagine what it must be like at Hogwarts. I truly thought the war was dying down, I was wrong. Keep your wand close. Surely, you’ll get away with a hex or two.

Until next time

Matthew G.

So engrossed in her new environment, her old life slipped to the back of her mind. There was a detachment from her reality compared to the one at home. A pang of guilt hit her, swallowing her up from the inside out until another pang hit, loneliness. If she easily forgot everyone, would anyone remember her? None of her old friends, apart from Matthew, had made a move to contact her since she left.

Often thinking about writing them first, she had to remind herself if they wanted to, they would. Especially with the knowledge that people still recognized Celeste.

Was she forgettable and if so, was it karma for forgetting too?

It put a mechanical vice grip on her heart, applying just enough pressure to be a constant reminder. With every beat, it tightened more and more.

Looking around the table, she saw her peers huddle in groups, familiar laughter ringing throughout. So noisy, so taunting. She may have been friends with Lily, Dorcas, James or even Marlene, but they had their own friends. Friendships that had years to develop before she came. She had only known them for less than two months.

Forgettable.

How hilarious, she thought.

“Hey,” a gentle voice cooed into her ear, “Are you okay?”

She hummed back absentmindedly.

James wore a concerned expression, his eyes knitted together, one raised higher than the other like it always does when he was worried. The look he shot her suggested he wasn’t convinced, although he didn’t press; instead opting to stir the conversation. “So, who wrote to you?”

“A friend and my mom —”

A snort so loud that it caused the rest of the marauders, random onlookers and even Lily (who had a look of pure disgust on her face) turned towards them. “What did you say?”

“I got a few letters?”

“No!” He bellowed, “Who sent you them?”

“My friend and my mom —”

Nearly choking on his sandwich, James clutched his stomach laughing. Laughing so hard he has to grip the table to prevent falling off the hall bench. "Haha! Mom?! MOM?” He mocked in a poor American accent, “What the fuck is mom? It’s MUM. Bollocks!”

“We say vitamin.”

“It’s VIT-A-MIN! Who says VIGHT-A-MIN?” Without a pause, James presses his entire body onto her shoulder, smushing her before grabbing the letter her mother sent her. His eyes scanned across the pages before hitting a certain word. “Back home? Maple trees? Where did you use to live exactly?”

“Canada.”

“Canada?! You don’t mean those snowy gits?” At this, Peter and Remus snort under their breaths. Even Lily had to force down a smile.

Staring deadpanned at him, in an unamused voice, “Really?”

“You are a bundle of surprises! I thought you lived… I’m not sure. I assumed somewhere like New Hork.”

“York,” Lily corrects.

“Tomato, tomato,” he jokes, playfully batting his eyes at Lily before biting into his sandwich, “You do live in London, right?”

“Right.”

James takes a moment, letting the conversation die down before he quickly glances at Y/N again. An undecipherable expression crosses his face before it’s promptly replaced with elation, “I take back anything negative I’ve said about Canada. They have an amazing Quidditch rooster. Have you gone to any of their games?”

A low grumble of sighs follows at the mention of Quidditch from James. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Remus shake his head and sighed dejectedly.

“Nah, I’m a New-Maj, remember? My mom — “

“Mum —”

“ — sorry, Mum — hardly understands the wizarding world, let alone what Quidditch is.”

His eyes were wide, whimsical, as a hand flew to his chest dramatically, “Rubbish! Bloody ridiculous! You’ve never seen a real Quidditch game? One day, I swear I’ll bring you to one! Or you can bring me to Canada one day and we can watch a home game!”

As James continued to rant, Y/N’s mind slowly drifted back to the bitterness in her chest. Trying to distract herself, she borrowed Lily’s quill and a few sheets of parchment, scribbling down letters in response.

Mom,

I’m fine with Charms, you don’t need to send anything. And don’t worry, I’ve been studying for my OWLs.

Love you, write soon.

The next letter was addressed to Matthew:

Matty Matt,

Of course, I didn’t replace you… yet.

Another dance? You would think the students’ protest last year would have influenced the professors this time. I guess it’s time for you to get wasted. I didn’t tell you last time but I think I’m going to a party. A friend of mine is throwing it and I know he’s going to force me to come no matter what. He briefly mentioned costumes and drinks. Plus, there’s going to be some kind of prank that I may or may have not been a part of? Sounds cool right?

Yeah, I’d say it’s been bad up here. I don’t know much about what's going on outside of school, though. The professors are hiding it well. I didn’t even hear about Jenkins stepping down. Keep me updated.

Until next time

She sealed the letters before sending Celeste off again, “Be quieter when you drop off the letters, yeah?”

❉───────•~❉•᯽•❉~•───────❉

It must be her lucky day.

The ringing of the bell went off, signalling the end of class. Professor Flitwick asked the students to stay behind so he could hand out quizzes the students completed on Monday in preparation for their upcoming test on Growth and Reductor charms the following Tuesday.

It was never a good sign when a professor flips your test over to prevent other students from seeing their mark. Flipping it over at a downwards angle, Flitwick handed Y/N her quiz.

Turning it over nervously, a tight coil formed in the pit of her stomach. A large P was plastered on the top right corner in bold red ink. She studied hard for this too. Angrily, she shoved her work into her bag and left the class. This was the third poor she'd gotten in a row. She should have told her mother she needed those Charm books.

“I swear I’m going mad! Her brother is a complete cow! He even — are you listening?”

She looks at the girl beside her, Marlene. Her glossed over, doe eyes must have served as an answer before the blonde shook her head.

“Sorry, distracted,” she mumbles, before forcing out a fake-happy tone, “Continue your story! I wanna hear!”

“Hey,” Marlene says in a softer voice, “If something’s bothering you, you can talk about it.”

“No, it’s okay,” she replies instinctively. She felt bad spacing out during Marlene’s story but her mind was running through and under hoops. The last thing any fifth year student needed was to fall behind in their classes, let alone feeling like nobody cared about them.

At that moment, she wished she was wrapped away in red and gold blankets to wallow in her self-pity party, away from prying eyes. She could feel the burning sensations of tears building up.

Dammit.

Y/N looked out the window to her left. The sky was melting with the warm hues of reds and yellows while the other half was being slowly engulfed into a cloak of twilight. Even from here, she could feel the cool air seeping in from the windows making her tug on the sleeves of her robes.

She continued, “I’m just tired — been a long day. I’m going to take a nap before dinner. See you.”

Judging by the look on Marlene and Lily’s face, guilt riddles her body. They both look sympathetic. The pity only made Y/N feel disgusting. In all honesty, Y/N will care later. Right now wasn’t the time and she desperately needed some shut-eye.

Before she left the room, she overheard them talking.

“What’s up with her?”

“Dunno.”

Great.

❉───────•~❉•᯽•❉~•───────❉

Sleep did little to ease her thoughts.

The same uneasiness she felt on the train ride to Hogwarts settled deep into her bones again. She thought she was past this. The worrying about friends, missing home, feeling alone, failing class, stressing about her future. The rational part of her brain knew it was just one silly quiz (and old shitty friends), but knowing herself, if she were to continue to have this mindset, she would only fail in the end.

Dinner ended and Y/N belligerently climbed up the stairs towards the library to attend today’s study session. The Charms quiz threw her into a loop and it was better not to dwell on it, opting to rather use her time for something useful.

Her marks improved significantly since she attended her first session two weeks ago. The last couple of assignments and quizzes she handed in that she worked on during the groups were some of her best work, ever. Additionally, her ability to retain information was improving at astonishing rates and she found herself participating in lessons more often. Unfortunately, she started to doubt her abilities again.

There weren’t as many students as usual. Perhaps it was because of the Quidditch meeting for all teams tonight, or because nobody wanted to spend their time in a library Friday night. She assumed it was the latter.

Although, the same student with black hair from Slytherin was there; tucked away in his usual corner. He was always there. Whether it was the study sessions, another OWL or NEWT student or he simply just enjoyed the library, Y/N could always rely on him sitting there in his little nook.

In the far back, surrounded by tall bookshelves sat Remus. Another student, a first or second year, judging by their height, seemed to be asking him a question, rapidly writing down something on a piece of parchment whilst they walked away. Remus leaned back in the brown chair, his right leg was folded over the other as he stretched.

She spent over twelve hours minimum with Remus directly since the first session, minus the time he was around James and the girls. Perhaps she only started to notice afterwards but she swore Remus wasn’t around this much before. Now, he was everywhere.

In the past couple of weeks she’d gotten to know him, she made a mental list in her head of him:

1. Remus loves sweaters. They weren’t flashy, seemingly preferring to wear ones with small designs, stripes or a solid colour. He wore green the most. He also wore cardigans. Two, in particular, he wore the most; one was white and the other was a muted brown. They were big and hung off his loose frame, the pockets were often stuffed with books, rumpled parchment and his wand.

2. He’s a coffee addict. He drank it in the morning, the afternoon, at the study session and sometimes with meals at dinner. He loved to dump pounds of sugar, so if he only drank black coffee, it usually meant he was in a bad mood. James even joked that he became Sirius whenever he drank black coffee, because haha! Get it? It’s BLACK coffee!

3. He frequented the library whenever he wasn’t with the rest of the marauders. He enjoyed poetry, wrote post-it notes after post-it notes to annotate his favourite parts. He even slept there from time to time, not without having to persuade Pince to not give him detention.

As if Remus magically sensed her, he took a large inhale before he stopped stretching, opening his eyes to look at her. A small smile was plastered on each other’s faces. He stuck up a few fingers to wave at her, motioning her to come over.

“Hi Y/N. I thought you didn’t come on Fridays?”

“I don’t but I have a test, Charms, Tuesday.”

“Oh, well I’m happy to help.”

“Thanks for the offer, Professor Lupin, but just being down here will help me focus.”

A scarlet blush settled on his face at the mention of his tutoring. “Well come sit with me then.”

Pushing the chair out of the way, she sat down beside him, pulling out her cassette player and earbuds along with her notes. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Remus staring at the player curiously.

“Do you want to listen?”

“If you don't mind. I didn’t know you could use these here.” Picking it up, he turned the rectangular device.

“If record players work here, why not this?”

She hands him an earbud, alongside a small collection of other tapes she had on hand.

“Choose whatever you want to listen to.”

Without much thought, he pressed the play button. The upbeat tune of Waterloo by ABBA trickled into their ears. Y/N bobbed her head up and down before the song was suddenly stopped.

A sour grimace sat on Remus’ face before their eyes met, his nose upturned slightly.

“Why’d you stop it?”

“I hate ABBA.”

“What!?”

“I just don’t like their cheesy disco-pop-esk sound. They sound generic and random words are thrown in when they don’t add to the song.”

“Jeez— never met anyone who hated them that much.”

A ghost of a smile appeared before he flicked through her collection of tapes. He picked up Abbey Road by The Beatles. Opening the player up, he slid out Waterloo. With a click and the press of a button, Come Together played.

“So you hate ABBA but not The Beatles? Benny and Bjorn said they were influenced by them!”

“Keyword: Influenced; which is just another word for a shitty knock-off version.”

4. Remus Lupin is apparently a music snob.

“Well, I think both are good.”

“Respectfully, I disagree with you.”

“Whatever you say, professor.”

"I've been thinking a bit, why did you come to Hogwarts? Why not just stay at your old school?"

The sudden switch of topics threw her into a loop. “Wasn’t by choice. My mom’s a doctor and got a position here. It was too good to turn down. But it’s not bad. There’s less wizarding laws.”

He nods his head, "I'm assuming you have dual citizenship?"

"Mhm."

About a half an hour passed as she sighed for the umpteenth time before putting down her quill. Her chair scraped back noisily as Y/N’s hand balled up into a tight fist, feeling her fingernails bite into her palm. She’d been flicking through her notes, the words all blended.

At this rate, if History of Magic didn’t exist, Charms would surely be her least favourite class.

“Are you sure you don’t need help?”

She was at a loss, this was the third time Remus had offered to help and he was persistent. She felt horrible that she was taking up his time to help her on a stupid Charms test.

He continued, “If you think bothering me is an issue, it’s not. I run the sessions on Friday. It’s my job.”

“Fine, but there has to be something I can do in return.”

“Hmm,” Remus pondered for a second, “How about this, I tutor you in Charms and in return you give me your Potions notes? I'm dreadful at it.”

“Deal.”

“Great. Before we start, is there anything in particular that you have questions on?”

Silently tapping on the quiz she received today, Remus snatched it and quickly scanned over her answers and Professor Flitwick’s notes.

“I see what happened. You know, the curriculum taught at Ilvermorny is different. That’s probably why you can’t understand some of this shit.” He cleared his throat, “So as we know, the growth charm increases the size of your intended target…”

His voice, like a light switch, changed instantly. Instead of his softer deep, raspier voice, it became commanding and steady. He never stumbled over his words and articulated his points elegantly. She found herself enraptured by him, understanding why he was in charge of the study groups.

Eventually, Remus takes a pause, “Does that make sense?”

“Yes. You know, you’re really good at this. No matter how much I asked Flitwick or even Lily I could never get it.”

A large blush bloomed on the apples of his cheeks before he shyly rubbed the back of his neck, averting his eyes. “I’m not that good.”

“No time for modesty, Professor Lupin!”

“Okay, okay! So here, do you see what went wrong? There would be a reaction with those two spells if —”

A boy, small, most likely a second year, stood at the foot of the shared table holding a large red and gold book. His hair, dark ginger, similar to Lily’s, was cut short. He fiddled with his fingers as he continued to stare at the two.

“... Um, hi. You're Remus — right?”

“Yup. Did you need help with something?”

“Yes! I’m having trouble with the Transfiguration spell, beetle into button.”

A look of understanding passed through his face before Remus turns to look at her, “Duty calls. It’ll be quick.”

“Of course, take your time.”

It was not quick. Understandably, very few were successful at the ginger’s age to perform the spell, but thirty minutes passed and the second year still didn’t understand the basic concepts. No matter how many times Remus had reiterated his point differently, the boy couldn’t retain it.

“I just don’t get it.”

“You learned this last year, it's a quick revision. I’m not sure what part you’re talking about. Look, do not wiggle or twirl your wand left, direct it towards the right. You have to picture the spell in your head before saying the incantation.”

He guided the boy's hand steadily before performing the spell himself.

“I don’t understand!” The boy whined.

He sighed, “Then we keep trying —”

“It’s too hard. Why are they teaching this crap anyway?”

“Could you stop complaining?” He snapped, closing his eyes before he realized what he’d just done. “I’m sorry about that. I’m… just tired. I can’t help you anymore, though. You should ask someone else,” Remus said brusquely, his eyes unnerving as he stared at the child. As a result, he yelped out a ‘thank you,’ rushing off in the opposite direction.

The muscles in his jaw tensed under the soft glow of the table lamps. There was a pale red tint rimming his eyes and he looked visibly paler than normal. Irritated, he bounced his knee rapidly, up and down, before looking out the large window beside them. The sky was mostly cloudy. Only the peak of the silvery moon appeared. A sliver was missing before it was fully complete.

He closed his eyes, before breathing in. His posture once stiffened, completely relaxed before a flimsy smile reappeared on his face, returning his attention to Y/N.

“Let’s continue, shall we?”

“If you’re tired we can stop.”

“No, s’okay. I’m fine — really.”

She chewed the inside of her cheek, adding to her list:

5. Remus was always so hard to read.

148 notes · View notes

pebblysand · 3 years

Text

of breakable clay [extended author's notes on chapter viii of castles]

oh my god. it’s out. jesus christ.

okay first off, before i dive into anything, i know i’ve already done this in the actual a/n but i would like to wholeheartedly thank @whiffingbooks over on discord for helping me with figuring out the structure of things fic. although i have to admit i did not, at all, do what i told you i would do, talking it out was massively helpful in figuring this one out, so thanks a million. secondly, i would like send all of my most sincere and affectionate thanks to @whizzfizz on here, who mother-of-god basically designed this entire chapter and listened to me rant, and rant, and rant about it for days on end without complaining. i’ll go into a bit more depth later on, but THANK YOU.

now, a few facts on this chapter before i dive further in:

wordcount: 19168. i legit would apologise for this but i promised i wouldn’t so i’m not going to. that’s growing up people. don’t apologise for yourselves haha.

soundtrack: so i’ve never mentioned this but each chapter kind of has a soundtrack? like a song that i listened to on loop while writing this. here, i would basically point you to the entire spotify of a band called barns courtney (there’s one album and a few eps), i basically listened to all of their songs on loop this past month. i feel like they have such a strong gryffindor energy, in the good, the bad and the ugly. this chapter is definitely sort of an ode to gryffindors so their music was a very big inspo. if i had to point you to one song, it would probably be dopamine.

favourite line: ‘I dig my fingernails into the inside of my palms and it feels like the blood that comes out is already boiling.’

what is this chapter about? now, that’s an easy one. survival.

okay, now, spoilers under the cut.

ugh. holy fucking shit. i’m actually at a stage right now where i strongly believe that no one on earth will want to read this because everyone probably hates me right now for the choices that i made, especially after i made you wait almost three months for this shit. i always feel like whatever i’ve put out was the hardest chapter to write so far but this one was really out there in terms of struggles - i’m really sorry it took so long, but here we are.

there are reasons, though. first, as i said in my may round up, i didn’t really start writing this until about a month ago, because a lot of things were happening in my life that i needed to take care of. i took exams (which i passed!!!!), my mum had a health emergency, ireland added france to their mandatory quarantine list (it has been removed as of yesterday thank. fucking. christ) and i started a new job. it was a lot.

anyway, this being said, when i did get to writing this chapter, as mentioned above in the thank-you section, i kind of first struggled with the structure of it. now, you will see this is a recurring theme this time around but for this, my instincts were telling me one thing, and my brain was saying something else.

basically, what came first here wasn’t the actual content of ginny’s letters (more on that, obviously, in a minute) but the ‘mood’ i wanted for the chapter. i wanted to recreate, both for harry and for the reader, this sort of idea of being completely immersed in a book or a story. like, you know the kind of mood where reality just kind of blends out, where you start reading something and just. cannot. stop. i don’t think he’s much a reader (at least not canonically) and so i wanted this to take him by surprise, for her to take over his life with her words. i explained in the previous a/n [link] i chose to have ginny’s war be told through letters (basically, i thought it would be the best way to narratively tell her story), and i really wanted harry to experience what she’d lived through almost first hand.

now, interestingly, my idea for how to do this originally was to have the letters sort of be interwoven into the events of 1999, throughout the next couple of chapters (meaning this one and chapter nine). i had this idea in my head of him living through ‘real life’ things but not being able to take his mind off her letters, with the letters also sort of echoing the events that were happening in 99, etc. having the two plot lines develop at once and meet in the middle, kind of.

and i tried to write that. for a long time. spoiler alert, it didn’t work. i think the reason is that every time i sat down with it, i felt like i was doing a disservice to both stories. i mean: 97/98 is important, but 99 also is, you know? and by taking the narrative in and out all the time, it was like you couldn’t concentrate on one thing. it was just very messy and didn’t have the intensity i was originally aiming for because it kept being dragged out of whatever was the main action at the time. i wanted harry to get sucked into the narrative, for her letters to take over his life, but in the end, the impression i just got was that the whole thing was confusing af. instead of deeply caring about both, i couldn’t bring myself to care either for ginny’s story, or for his.

also, i just kept hitting a wall: a wall called harry. basically, i knew that the next two chapters (i.e. eight and nine) would stretch from january 99 to june 99. and for the love of god, no matter how many times i turned it around in my head, there was - to me - no way that harry as we know him would just pace himself to read her letters throughout all those months. like, harry fucking potter isn’t the kind of guy who ‘paces’ himself. he’s the kind of guy who doesn’t sleep for a week to get through it all, you know? this is everything that he’s wanted to know since last may, he’s been desperately looking for answers up to this point, there is absolutely not way in hell that he’d wait it out nicely until june. it felt ooc to have him read the letters over a few months. and i just kept hitting that wall over and over. i considered, at one point, building him reading the letters into flashbacks but flashbacks of flashbacks were, again, quite messy, and i don’t think her letters would ever be something he’d volunteer to re-read, so. clearly, it wasn’t working.

then, i think on a random sunday a few weeks ago, i just went back to the drawing board and was like: okay, say we just write all of the letters and go from there, what would happen? by the end of the day, i’d written 12,000 words and that was that, really.

now, the second difficulty, once i’d decided that was…. what you all probably want me to talk about.

i know this is probably not what you want to hear but: i didn’t really plan this? like, i understand that a lot of people have sort of a headcanon about what happened to ginny in that year in hogwarts but i … don’t. like, as planned as this fic is (which it is, i know where i’m going, i promise) that was always a bit of a blank-space-tbd in my head. i think that this story, as hinny as it is, is mostly about harry. and while i knew what i wanted for harry from her telling her story (for him to get sucked in, for him to realise that his war wasn’t the only war in the world ‘cause he’s been bloody self-centered so far, for him to realise that his plan to protect her didn’t exactly work because it didn’t cater for who she is, etc.), i wasn’t really sure what that story was. i mean, i knew it was going to be bad and traumatic, obviously, but i didn’t know what would happen. and still, to me, what i wrote is a version of that year. it’s not really my headcanon (i still don’t really have one), and i definitely accept other versions, if that makes sense.

this being said, i obviously had thought about it a little. i remember writing chapter one with that line: ‘They have sex for the first time, that day – his first time and it feels like hers, too, but he wouldn’t dare ask, not anymore, anyways’ and thinking i wanted to leave the door open. to me, it was a door completely open: it could have indeed been her first time, or she could have seen someone else (consensually) during that year, or she could have been assaulted. i honestly didn’t know but yeah, that was always a possibility in the back of my head.

then, to tell you the truth, when i wrote the first version of this chapter (the 12,000 words i mentioned earlier), it wasn’t there. i sat down and decided that i wasn’t going to go there. firstly, because, while you probably don’t know this, i’ve written about sexual assault before. my previous long fic, children, in another fandom, dealt (in part) with that. and i didn’t want to be the-fic-writer-who-writes-about-sexual-assault. especially because trust me, there are people who are a lot more legitimate to talk about this than i am. i also didn’t feel like it was necessary to the story, i could do without it and still explain ginny’s early behaviour in the fic, explain her trauma, and have harry realise the things i talked about before. secondly, i’ll be honest: i know this isn’t what people in this fandom want to read. the hinny pairing is mostly about love and fluff (which i love, btw, don’t get me wrong) and i was like, ugh, i don’t want to face the angry comments. i’m writing this a/n the morning before posting so i admittedly don’t know what the reaction will be but i do anticipate a lot of annoyance with me. i knew that a lot of people wouldn’t like it if i went there, and it was just easier not to.

but then, as i started editing, there was a comment (and this, ladies and gentlemen, is a testament to how much your comments fucking matter, okay?). a comment that i remembered reading on the previous chapter and could not get out of my head, no matter how much i tried. well, hello, @whizzfizz. i’ll happily give credit where credit is due. it read:

This made me think of something you mentioned earlier in the fic (possibly Ch1) about Harry not being sure if he was Ginny’s first but that it felt like it. I wonder if this is something that is going to come up in her letters to him.

and, so, it turned. around and around in my head, and i couldn’t get it out. and i kept saying to myself: no, you’re not going there. no, you’re not going there. and then, one night, i caved. i was like, fuck, i need to know if this person really meant what i think they meant by this. and so we talked. a lot. and, i did a lot of thinking. about women. about wars. about violence against women as a an inevitable weapon of war. about ginny being harry’s girlfriend, or ex-girlfriend (more on that later), and what that would have meant in their world. and @whizzfizz, you said something that in the end really sold me. you said: ‘at this point, i don’t think it would be realistic for it not to have happened.’ and, that was that, really.

because i was right, initially. amycus/ginny (ugh, the idea of a pairing makes me throw up in my mouth a little but yeah, there it is) isn’t necessary to the story. but i believe it to be necessary to what this story is trying to show. the plot held well without it, no questions asked. 12,000 words of the da and their battles, of ginny’s rebellions. it was fine. but i think i wanted more than fine. to me (and i appreciate how fucking pretentious that is, please slap me in the face *eyeroll*), castles is more than its plot. i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again: this is about what is behind ‘all was well.’ it’s about trying to paint a realistic picture of their lives. and that includes the war. and realistically, as far as i’m concerned, knowing how humans fight their wars, knowing our history and the history of violence against women construed as a weapon in literally every conflict there ever was, there is no way that this didn’t happen. ginny says it herself: for us girls, it’s just the way wars are fought.

so, i did go there. and the whole fandom probably hates me for going there, but i sort of stand by it, i have to say. to be honest, on a sort of subconscious level, i kind of wonder: didn’t i always know i was going to go there? like, this fits perfectly into the plot to the point that i think it was probably in my head for much longer than i care to admit. now, i’m so, fucking excited to write next chapter because i finally get to write happy things, and hinny getting back together on rock solid foundations of openness and sharing, and trust, and i’m so, so glad. there are a couple of scenes in the next chapter that i’ve been working towards for months and i’m so, bloody excited to write them. everyone might hate me and i might just be writing this fic for myself now (lol), but again, i stand by the decisions i took. to me, it fits.

phew. okay, now that huge thing is out of the way and explained, here are a few more jumbled thoughts:

the more i think about it, the more i think that my reason for not wanting to be the-fic-writer-who-writes-about-sexual-assault is a bit ridic. children and castles, in that way, are so, so different. like, i appreciate the overlap between the silk fandom and the hp fandom is probably ridiculously small but if you’ve read both stories, they’re obviously very different. one thing that both stories centre on, though, is consent. and to me, that’s probably the most interesting element of ginny/amycus, and the most interesting element of writing characters within a restrictive pov, rather than an omniscient one. like, do i think ginny/amycus is rape? yes. 100%. do i think that ginny thinks it’s rape? that is a much more interesting question. she says it a number of times but i think to her, this is all about control. i think that because of what happened to her with tom, she’s someone who is terrified of losing control of her mind and of her own agency. so as not to lose that, she’s willing to do whatever it takes. it is a ‘you can control my body, but not my thoughts,’ sort of narrative. and, she never says it outright because i think psychologically she’s just not there yet, but tom is everywhere in these letters. and as her world just spirals out, she hangs onto the very few things that she can control: her relationship to harry, and her willingness to do what it takes for them to survive. she initiates the ‘relationship’ with amycus in an attempt to control her fate. later, as she explains to harry she feels a lot of guilt over what she did, and like a lot of sexual assault survivors, she thinks it was her responsibility. because i’m in harry’s head most of the time for this fic, i’m not sure i’ll ever really get to discuss that at length, but it’s definitely something that i wanted to show. another interesting question is: does harry think it’s rape? i think at that point in the fic, he doesn’t have the education, nor the vocabulary for that. i think instinctively (because he is someone who is very instinctive), he doesn’t blame her. if he blames anyone, it’s probably himself. he understands the necessity to do what you have to do to survive and thinks that no, no matter what she claims, that was not consented. that’s kind of what comes out in his annoyingly inarticulate letter to her at the end. beyond that, though, i think he’s a bit lost, just like she is.

on a mildly related note, there is something that i've been seeing a lot in the comments and that i feel like i should maybe address? namely: harry's reaction to ginny dating other people. i assume similar comments will be made about his reaction to ginny/alecto (meaning that he still decides to write to her, at the end of the chapter). i've seen a lot of people observe that he's much more 'chill' about it in castles than in canon. fair point but is he, though? like, he isn't happy about it in castles. and he's jealous as well. but he was never entitled in canon. he was jealous, yes, the chest monster and all that, but he never really did anything about it, and never really impeded on her right to see other people. now, this being said, i agree that in sixth year he might have thrown a tantrum, had she done what she did in castles, but that was sixth year. it was before the war. before he lost half a dozen people. before he had to adult bloody fucking quickly. this being said, i do think castles-Harry is more 'subdued,' i suppose, than canon harry. this is a choice i made early on, which to me is related to the fact that he kind of lost his 'voice' during the war. i mean, it took him six months of people talking shit behind his back to do a press interview to defend himself. i think with ginny, it's a lot of the same. he's a boy who blames himself a lot, and generally doesn't particularly think he deserves the people in his life. to me it's an evolution of his character within the the world of castles. i'm happy to agree to disagree on it, but to me it makes sense within the character evolution and the way the fic's gone, so to speak. now, obviously, he'll grow out of that in due course, but we're not quite there yet.

regarding their relationship, now, i have to say: one headcanon that i did have for this was her not outright telling everyone they’d broken up. i’m sorry, that plan was shit. i just don’t buy for a second that she would willingly have gone ahead with it, and i don’t buy for a second that tom wouldn’t have used her had he known they’d been together, ex girlfriend or not. plus, i think she needed something to hand onto, and that was her relationship with him. her letters. the belief that they would be together again. without it, i don’t think she’d have survived. and i think that summer after the war, they were totally on the same page, for different reasons. both of them kind of saw their relationship as the one thing that kept them afloat, the one good thing they had, partly also because they’d idealised it for so long. she says it as some point, it wasn’t a relationship, it was a lifeline (another sentence i came up with as a response to a comment, lol) and while that is toxic and was meant to crumble at some point, it was necessary for them, both during the war, and in the early days after it. i think her last letter to him is painstakingly correct on that one.

regarding canon, i know i’m bending a couple of things here, which i just wanted to quickly acknowledge: 1) i know jkr has said it’s teddy remus lupin. i just can’t believe, for a moment, that someone who hated himself as much as lupin did, canonically, would name his son after himself. naming his son after his best mate who died to young to become problematic though? i totally see it. so yeah, creative licence, it’s teddy james lupin in this house, lol. 2) when they meet neville in dh, he kind of hints that they’ve only just started to use the room of requirement a couple weeks ago. the text however, only says they’ve only been staying in it full time a couple of weeks ago. i needed them to have somewhere where to meet with the da and stuff, so i bent that a bit. it’s not strictly canon, but it’s also not not canon, if that makes sense.

on seamus blowing things up and talking about eight hundred years of oppression? full disclaimer, while i am french, i have been living in ireland for long enough to become eligible for citizenship in less than six months (yay!). i know some people have said that seamus is a bit of a cliche in the books/films and all (the only irish character keen on blowing things up, haha *eyeroll*), but i actually kind of love it? like, the whole thing about the cranberries and zombie at the start of the fic has been in my head for much longer than i care to admit. i love the idea that there’s this whole muggle war going on at the exact same time that no one ever talks about and actually, i find the idea of wizarding ireland v. muggle ireland and the whole political structure fascinating. like, is wizarding ireland an independent state? what’s the story there? i have a whole seamus fic in my head, partially on this topic, that i might or might not write one day.

lastly, i know this may sound a bit weird but i need to say it: once i’d figured out what and how i was writing it, i bloody loved writing this chapter. first stylistically, i really wanted to mimic the style of how i’d written the magazine article in chapter 5 (i.e. not writing out the whole thing but writing out in text the excerpts that harry focused on) and i love how that turned out. i think it was a good way to balance her words and his, kind of merging them into one, big narrative. second, as a writer, it was so fucking interesting to write someone who knows how to write, which believe it or not i’d never done before. additionally, i loved the challenge of editing this because it was like: i’ve got to edit this, but not too much? i was very careful about modifying and polishing too much of ginny’s speech in the letters because i obviously wanted it to sound like someone who was just writing as the words came to her, without polishing the words, the punctuation, etc. like i usually would. i wanted her to have quirks (she says ‘you know?’ a lot) and i played with her capitalisation and punctuation a bit too. i know these aren’t necessarily noticeable details but it was definitely something that i thought about and that was very fun and interesting to write, as a format.

wow, okay. this was LONG but i think i have everything i wanted to say. if you’ve read all of this (whyyyyy?), thanks so much for sticking around. if you’ve got any questions, anything i didn’t address, do let me know, anon or not, my ask box is open. now, i would love to say i’m going to chill or something, but the truth is that i have to a) actually do a last read through of the fic, lol and b) put it out. this is what i get for writing the a/n before finishing the damn thing, i guess. i’ll rest tomorrow, lol.

lastly, in terms of next chapter, realistically, i’d say eight to ten weeks. i have a full time job now and also, writing this was fucking exhausting and i need to take time out for a bit before coming back to it with a fresh mind. i will be writing other stuff though, i promise. i have a couple of prompts to get to (thanks!!!) and a couple of other ideas so i will probably be posting in the meantime, just not castles.

lots of love,

#castles #extended an #writing #fic #its out #holy shit #byyyyyye #I have not proofread this so we die like men eh

16 notes · View notes

angelic-holland · 5 years

Text

Seeing the Thing 9

Summary: I never have to carefully shape sentences when I’ve got some words to say, they’re falling from my mouth from the time that they hit my brain.

Warnings: angst, fluff, panic attacks, and smut (not necessarily in that order)

Word Count: 5k

A/N: I originally hated the way I ended this chapter so I added another 1.5k words until I was happy. I was listening to the Double Dare album by Waterparks on repeat when writing this as you can see from the summary. anyone else love them? bold are text messages!

Tom: u up?

Tom: Do you like my costume

Tom: I got to put on the winter pants and coat

Tom: but i think this makes a good first few layers

Tom: what do you think???

You roll your eyes as you place your computer on your desk before sitting back down on your bed.

You: did anyone tell you it’s rude to send a thousand messages instead of just one long one?

Tom: i only sent 5

Tom: do i need to send 995 more???

Tom: okay i get your point

Tom: but this is how i talk

Tom: text whatever

Tom: I think I look hot

You sigh, he does look hot. That wasn’t the problem. He looked like an annoying fuck boy. Which wasn’t that far off from the truth.

Tom: do you think I look hot??

You: you’re so fucking annoying

Tom: come sit on my face and shut me up

Tom: that’s totally a yes btw

Tom: come on, come visit and check it out in person

Those last three texts were sent in quick succession and you did a double-take at the first one.

Your fingers hovered over the screen to type but you genuinely had no words.

***

Tom smacked himself at his first text. Too forward. Way too forward.

He watched as the grey bubbles popped up and then disappeared several times. He knew you weren’t going to respond, probably weirded out.

He sent the next two texts and had several drafts after that.

I’m sorry

No, he knew how if he didn’t specify what he was sorry for you’d give him shit and that was the last thing he needed right now.

That was weird just ignore that

Nope, you wouldn’t be able to ignore that so it was pointless to suggest it.

He attempted to think of another thought, anything really to relieve the tension he felt rising in his chest.

Maybe he’d wait for you to respond. It was a strategic plan, other than the fact that your possible responses were gnawing at his insides.

***

You were about to respond, a quick omw because fuck it right? When your phone died.

So you hastily changed into a matching set of underwear, white with a lilac lace trim, determined to confront him about his message in person since your poorly timed phone dying left you no other choice.

You took a deep breath as you smoothed down your T-shirt, you weren’t going to let your nerves get the best of you, not today. It’s been nearly a year since you’ve had sex and although yes, you would admit that you wanted to have sex with Tom, you had no idea if you were ready. So after brushing through your hair quickly you figured you would show up at his dorm, work through whatever haze of feelings were bubbling up inside you, and make your decision then. You checked your phone to see if he replied, if actually wanted you to go to his dorm or if he was fucking with you.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Maybe this was a sign, a sign that you shouldn’t go down and do something you might regret the next day. The more you thought as that knocking started to piss you off the more you realized you’d only regret it if Tom did something to ruin the mood, if he treated you like one of his weekend hookups. You figured it would be hard for him to do that. You spent every night at rehearsal together. But what about after the show? Did you want to have something more with Tom? Whatever that might entail? Would you be able to after the bullshit Ben put you through?

But your thoughts were cut short by that annoying fucking knocking and holy shit-

“Hi,” Tom smirks, leaning against the side of your door as you groan.

“Maybe only knock three times? Knocking for a long time is pretty rude.”

“Sorry, I just uh, I heard your feet tapping and I knew you were in there and I wanted to see if-, oh,” Tom let’s out a surprised yelp as you pull him into the room, kissing him as you slam the door behind him.

“I’m glad you liked my message,” he laughs against your lips as your fingers curl into the denim jacket, his slipping down to rest against your hips, thumbs fitting nicely in the belt loop of your shorts.

“Mhm,” you mumble, eyeing the beanie on his head to the winter boots on his feet.

“And the outfit?”

“I think Jenna will be very happy with your costume choice.”

“Let’s not talk about Jenna, or the costumes, or the show,” Tom rolls his eyes as you take a step back, fingers tight on his jacket, forcing him to take a step with you.

“What should we talk about then?” You ask, resting your hands against his chest through the layers of your clothes.

“Let’s not talk,” he whispers, eyes searching for a confirmation that you want the same thing.

You respond with what he’s looking for, rising on your toes to meet his lips again, your hand tugs the beanie out of his hair, tossing it to the side.

His fingers tug on your belt loop, your hips meeting his as your hands work on pulling off his denim jacket. Your lips move with ease against his, it’s gentle and calming as his hand moves to cup your face, thumb rubbing your cheek as you pull your lips off his.

“How many layers you got under here?”

“Why don’t ya find out?” He smiles gently and you laugh before grabbing at the end of his gray sweatshirt.

With each layer you get a little more frustrated and Tom’s laughing hard when you finally get to his bare skin and nearly jump into his arms.

“Thank fuck,” you grumble, kissing him as his feet work to kick off the boots before he fumbles forward, lips trailing down your jaw while his fingers work on unbuttoning your shorts.

“This okay?” He mutters, lips against your neck as your hands roam the expanse of his back, the both of you still standing sort of awkwardly in the middle of your room, surrounded by his many layers.

“You got a condom?” You sigh as he helps you shuffle your shorts down your legs.

His breath hitches as he steps back slightly to take a look at your panties, more specifically the small wet spot in the front of them, foot just inches too far back and he’s tripping over his boot.

You catch him with a grunt and your arms are wrapped around his waist, pulling him back up to a standing position.

“Maybe we should get on the bed?” He nods towards it and your hands trail to his hips, he’s all tight muscles and you want to trace the lines on his stomach with your lips but you settle for dragging your fingers across them as you back up.

His hand reaches out to stop you, a light weight on your shoulder as the other moves to pull at your T-shirt. His breath hitches again as he sees your bra, the way your breasts look so pretty and he wanted to devour you.

“Did you get all matching for me?” He wiggles his eyebrows and you laugh, shrugging as your knees back into your bed.

You swing your legs up and open them wide, letting Tom get a better view of you.

You can’t help the blush that spreads across your cheeks and down your chest as he groans, pulling a silver packet out of his sweatpants before pulling them down while you settle on your elbows. He looks so good, chest rising and falling, standing next to you, eyes soft as he admires your body. There’s something there, just below the surface of his dark brown eyes, past the lust and hunger. It sends a nervous shiver down your spine and you push down the feeling because right now you just want him.

He places the condom strategically next to your leg as he settles between them, hands running up and down your bare thighs and you bite back a moan.

“Be loud for me darling,” he mutters before his lips begin to trail up your thigh, he turns your thigh slightly, biting down lightly on the inside before soothing the spot with his tongue. Smirking against you at your small yelp.

“Don’t wanna, don’t want the RA to come knocking.”

“Gimme a second,” Tom pauses his movement, hand reaching down off the side of your bed for his phone.

“What’re you doing?” You tilt your head as he starts to type.

“Gimme a sec,” he nods as a song begins to play.

“What?”

“To drown out all your moans.”

“Did anyone ever tell you you’re like, super cocky?” You tilt your head as he puts his phone on the bedside table before settling back in between your thighs.

“Only about every day, I dunno, looks like someone enjoys it,” he smirks as he runs a finger over your panties.

“Fuck,” you groan, dropping your head to the pillow, “you’re right.”

You concentrate on the feeling of his fingers slipping into the sides of your panties, attempting to tug them down your legs. You both realize you’re in a bad position for this, your thighs wide apart, his shoulders brushing against them from where he was laying.

“Whoops,” He laughs, sitting up, shoulders bumping into your knees as you help him by sitting up and shimmying the panties off your legs as he sits back.

And the sight of your folds, glistening and wet for him has Tom’s eyes darken before he’s pushing you back, one hand moving to cup your breast while the other holds him above your body.

And right as you’re about to focus on wrapping your legs around his waist you hear the lyrics of the song that’s playing in the background.

I don’t see nothing wrong with a little bump and grind

I don’t see nothing wrong, baby, baby, hey

And as Tom’s lips drag across the skin of your collarbone, fingers finding their way to your entrance, your arms snake around his shoulders, eyes slipping shut.

“Fine, What song would you play? Bump N Grind?”

Pause.

“Oh my god. Don’t tell me that’s on there.”

You take one look at your best friend and hold back a sigh, “it is isn’t it?”

Harrison was totally using Tom’s sex playlist. You didn’t realize how distracted you were, that you broke into a fit of laughter before Tom’s lips smack against your skin and his fingers slip out of you.

“Is something funny?” He mutters against your skin and you look down at the boy, lips moving back to make the skin right below the dip in your collarbone.

“Sorry, But is this like your sex playlist?” You laugh again, a small giggle turned into a moan as Tom’s thumb grazes your clit.

“Maybe, are you distracted? Needa take a break?” He asks, he isn’t used to this. For the girl he’s with not falling apart at the seams the second he has them in bed. The fact that you haven’t even been very vocal, other than the laughter ringing in his ears was puzzling. So he set himself determined to make you feel good, adding another finger as he fucked into you.

And you felt sort of bad, that you let your mind wander. Tom was making you feel good, no doubt about it, each thrust of his fingers sent a shiver down your spine.

“Come on, fuck me,” you moan as your legs tighten around his hips.

“Mhm,” he grunts before fumbling for the condom, tearing it open. Your hands push at his boxers and his mouth is hot and wet against your neck.

Once he kicks off his boxers he helps you slide the condom on, his lips meet yours as you grind your wet folds against his cock.

And his lips are sweet and soft and everything you’ve ever wanted and more, even as you’re about to fuck they’re gentle. And you want him to get a move on but you’re savoring the time now, his fingers pressed against your hips, tongue searching your mouth for something you can’t place your finger on but also don’t want to. You attempt to channel your energy and focus on the here and now, something you had trouble with sometimes.

But all of that disappears from your mind as he’s slowly pushing into you, his fingers tightening around your hip in time with your legs around his waist.

“Fuck,” you whimper against his lips as he fills you just right.

His hips are a steady weight against yours as your creaky dorm bed thump thump thump smacks against the wall with his movements. The music drowns out the sounds of your moans and whimpers against his lips, touch me tease me feel me and caress me, hold on tight and don’t let go.

You normally didn’t kiss this much during sex, maybe it was the position, Tom on top of you, or maybe it was because you were afraid of what he’d say if his lips weren’t occupied doing other things. So when your mouths finally broke apart because both of you were gasping for air, the oxygen between you running out, you ran your fingers through his hair before pushing his head towards your neck.

“Want me to mark you darlin?”

Mark you.

The words were so primal. The look in his eyes was primal as well, pure want as he fucks into you, his thumb slipping between your hot and sweaty bodies to rub against your clit. A wave of pleasure crashes over you before you realize he’s waiting for a response, oops hovering over a spot on the side of your neck.

“Please,” you moan, pleasure coursing through your veins.

His hips stutter against your own before his teeth sink into your skin, causing you to cry out and clench around him before his lips suck over this teeth marks. His tongue soothes the mark and you remember that you’ll have to hide it, your mind wandering to what Gianna or god forbid Harrison found out. And then you were distracted, working to bring your mind back to the activity at place. Tom’s thumb is rubbing your clit and his other hand is next to your head, leaning into your pillow as he fucks into you, the sound of skin against skin and his mumbles against your skin slowly forcing you to pay attention.

“Tom,” you sigh and his cock twitches inside of you.

Fuck. He’s close.

And you were enjoying yourself, you really were, but you just weren’t there. But just like the boys before him you knew he wasn’t going to wait around for you to get there, wasn’t going to wait and take the time to find out what really makes you scream. And maybe that’s presumptuous of you but Tom’s the type of guy who thinks that every girl works the same, a finger on your clit and a hot mouth on your neck and you’re clenching around him, coming with a cry of his name.

That wouldn’t be the case for you, but that doesn’t mean you couldn’t pretend. Something Tom and you had gotten very good at recently. So you put on a show, squeezing your eyes shut, clenching around him, moaning his name as he comes, pretending to come with him before his hips still, panting against your neck, sweaty curls tickling your jaw as your legs drop from around his waist.

Tom slips out of you, eyebrows furrowing as he takes in your calming state, lips pouting slightly as he sits up.

“Did you just fake that?”

“What? No,” you sit up with him, resting a hand on his shoulder. Nobody’s ever caught you faking it before. Time to put on your best smile and act like you came.

“No, no,” Tom shrugs your arm off him, “you definitely did.”

“No I didn’t,” because you’re stubborn and you knew his ego would be crushed. It wasn’t necessarily his fault, you enjoyed yourself, it just took you longer than normal to come, and you didn’t want to hold up the fun for your partner. Tom wasn’t going to last as long as it took you to bring yourself to orgasm. The pleasure you felt was fine, even if you didn’t get to that special place. But the look of pure bliss on his face as he came was now replaced by furrowed brows and a frown.

“What did I do?” Tom starts and you crawl towards him, reaching out, attempting to explain why you faked it since he saw right through your lie.

He glances away as you rest your hand on his chest, crawling into the space between his legs. His arms are limp at his sides and he doesn’t attempt to give you the same type of physical attention you’re giving him, and that hurts, even just a little.

“I-,”

“Were you thinking you could just fake it and pretend like you had a good time? Leave me thinking I made you feel good, made you come like a fucking fool?” He swats your hand off his chest and you attempt to control the wave of anxiety starting to pull you under.

“I’m sorry, I just, I wasn’t there and you were and I didn’t want you to feel bad so-,”

“And knowing that you faked it, was that supposed to make me feel what? Indifferent?”

“No, I didn’t think you-,”

“Holy fuck you always talk about using your words but then when it comes time to using them, you fucking don’t. You could’ve said hey Tom this is what I like, this is how I can come. Instead you what? Moan my name and squeeze my shoulders and act like you got there?”

You know what he’s saying wasn’t meant to hurt you. He’s frustrated, he wants to know what he did wrong and why you did what you did. You knew the insecurities inside him were surfacing with each word.

And honestly? Faking it was easier than having to explain how you could come, the little intricate details that made everything just right, made the moment possible.

“Oh? Nothing to say? Of course, because you can’t act like this is just pretend,” Tom’s voice is bitter and he gets off your bed, your head hangs low as you hear him shuffle around the room, presumably grabbing his thousands of layers.

You think he’s going to stop talking, to let the silence fill the room as the music cuts off. But he doesn’t. You feel tears well in your eyes as you fight to keep them back, hands shaking as you pull your blanket over your naked body.

“This isn’t just you, helping me for the show, Dave and Rhonda don’t fuck on stage. This was all you darling,” the word just a few minutes ago spoken so softly bit back at you, “you had sex with me because you wanted to. You don’t get to pretend. and that's killing you isn't it?” He asks and you turn your head to him as you pray for the bed to swallow you whole as your ears start ringing and you clasp your hands over them, attempting to shut out the world.

“Fuck, I’m- y/n, I just, I don’t want to pretend either, I want-,”

“Go, please,” you manage to get out as you gasp for breath to no avail.

“I’m so-,”

“Go, go, go,” you cry, squeezing your eyes shut at the pained expression on his face. The hot tears roll down your cheeks as you don’t even bother searching for air or comfort in another person. You wouldn’t find that in Tom. Not now.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers and it’s barely there as static fills your brain, blocking out the rest of the world.

You hear the door shut and you want to collapse in on yourself as you gasp for air.

You find comfort in nothing, not in your bed where you could normally escape after a long day, not in the warmth of your blanket against your skin. You trip over your blanket you kick to the side as you stumble out of bed. Quickly grabbing a robe you slipped it on and rushed to the showers, grateful nobody was there to see you. A blossoming hickey on your neck, legs sore, lungs collapsing on themselves as you let the hot water rush over your body. You choked out a sob as you felt air fill your lungs, salty tears mixing with the water that ran over your skin, fragile and freezing no matter how far you pushed the lever, wishing the water would melt your skin. This was a fucking disaster. You let the water drown out the sound of your tears.

***

Tom realized he fucked up, the second he heard your cries and saw your hands clasped over your ears. What he said was fucking horrible and it wasn’t your fault you didn’t come. But god damn it he wishes you said something or that you let him know how he could make you feel as good as he did before it all came crashing down around you. So after he tosses all of his clothes back in his room he rushes back to yours, he knows you said to go but his mind couldn’t tear away the tears in your eyes and the shaking of your body as he left.

He knocks twice, “y/n, god, I’m sorry, please, just, you don’t even have to open the door or anything, just let me know you’re okay. I know you told me to leave but I just need to make sure you’re okay.”

Silence. He figured you would still be upset, crying even, but there’s not even the whisper of a movement on the other side of your door. His head whips around as he hears a sob from the bathroom.

Shit.

He checks to see if anyone else is roaming the halls before slipping into the women’s bathroom, eyeing the gray bathrobe on the ground in front of one of the showers, the same one he’s seen time and time again in your room now soaking wet from the water dripping from the shower curtain.

He slips back out and races back to his room and then back to your bathroom, slightly out of breath, but he knew it was nothing compared to how you must have felt. He remembers Harrison told him that you felt like you were drowning when you were having a panic attack, like the air in your lungs was replaced with water and you were treading water but failing miserably.

So he slipped back into the bathroom and sat on the counter, a towel and clothes in his hand, waiting for the right time to speak up.

*** As your nails dug into your arms you felt your body slowly start to heat up and your lungs fill with air.

“Just fucking breathe,” your voice trembles as you turn the shower off. Your eyes slowly blink open and you look down at your body, bright red from the heat of the water. And you knew, logically that the only reason you felt like this was because you felt something for Tom. If it was anyone else you would’ve told them to fuck off and get over themselves. But Tom, you just couldn’t let go of the sting of his words ingrained in the back of your mind as you reached from behind the curtain to grab your robe from the hook.

“Shit,” you curse when you don’t feel the soft material under your fingertips. You bend down and blindly grasp around the floor groaning when you feel the damp robe.

“y/n?” Tom’s voice is soft and unsure and you’re positive he’s right outside your shower.

You stand back up, robe abandoned on the floor as you peer out from behind the curtain.

You push your wet hair from your eyes as you see Tom swinging his legs, sitting on the counter. Your eyes widen with disbelief.

“I’m sorry-,”

“Tom,” and the weight of your word, exhausted, upper lip trembling as you stare at the boy you just had sex with, the boy whose ego you just crushed hit Tom.

“I’m sorry I was such an asshole, I’m sorry I couldn’t make you, you know, and I’m sorry I suck with words. I’m sure there’s more for me to be sorry for but you must be freezing so I got you a towel,” Tom holds the towel out for you, a deep blue, like he told you his favorite color was.

You reach out for it and Tom nods, jumping off the counter and handing it to you.

“Thank you,” you manage to get out and you shiver as your fingers brush against his.

As you wrap the towel around your body, too tired to dry your hair you feel tears well in your eyes again, this time from Tom’s gesture, an olive branch of sorts.

You step out of the shower, red-rimmed eyes meeting Tom’s as you shuffle forward, grabbing your robe with one hand, upset you got it wet, which only makes you cry a little more.

“It’s okay,” Tom’s voice attempts to sooth you and it takes you a moment to realize that he’s pulling you close and hugging you as your body shakes like leaf, maybe from crying, maybe from your body being exposed to the cold air of the bathroom, probably both.

“I’m sorry,” you cry against his shoulder.

You’re sorry for faking it. You’re sorry for not using your words. You’re sorry for crying and getting his clothes wet from the shower and your tears.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, his hand spreading across your back, a comforting weight keeping you pressed against him.

“I’m sorry,” you say again, and that’s as much as you can get out for now.

“Shhh, let’s get you to bed okay?”

“I just, and I don’t even and I wanted to-,”

“It’s okay, you’re freezing, come on, let’s get you dressed,” he motions to the clothes on the counter as he pulls away slightly, you let out a sad whimper as he moves, afraid that he’s going to let go of you. And he senses this, he senses that you want human contact right now, that you need it, so he does an awkward shuffle sideways to the clothes, tucking them under his arm before gripping your thighs and making sure the towel keeps you decent, picking you up with ease as you wrap your arms around his neck, his other arm tight against the side of your chest, holding you against him.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, blushing as your lips get stuck on those two words again.

“It’s okay,” he nods, his chin resting on the top of your head as he walks to your room, arms never wavering in his hold on you as he uses his elbow to push your door open.

He sets you down on your bed, kneeling in front of it, your hand shoots out to hold his, and he let’s you grip his wrist as he raises both your hands to his face, kissing each of your fingers gently.

“I brought you some clothes, I dunno why since you’ve got clothes but I just-,” Tom nods, frowning slightly when he sees more tears start to fall from your eyes, “what’s wrong?”

“You didn’t haveta do this,” you sigh as your grip softens.

“But I wanted to,” his voice is quieter as you let go of his wrist and he stands up, “c’mere, you needa get dried off.”

So you follow him, one hand holding the towel tight around you. Normally you’d feel shy as his hand covered yours, turning you around before pulling the towel off of you. Or a little ridiculous as he helped dry you off, but he made you feel like this was completely normal. He hums gently, eyes staring at the hickey he left on the side of your neck as his hands gently make sure you’re completely dry before resting the towel on your shoulders as he grabs the black sweatpants.

“Hope these are comfy,” he muses as you step into them and his fingers rest against your bare waist when he’s finished pulling them up.

You nod, fingers trembling as you wipe away the tears on your face, too scared to turn around and look at Tom. You feel him take the towel from your shoulders and gently dry your hair, fingers brushing through tangles after he drops the towel.

“Here, just lift your arms up for me okay?” He asks and you do just that before you feel the warmth of a blue sweatshirt pulled over your head.

“Tom,” you feel his hands resting over the sweatshirt and your body is hesitant as you think about laying down his him, falling asleep in his arms like you did earlier while watching the movie, something that seemed like a million years ago now.

“I can stay, if you want,” Tom suggests and you’re grateful he’s able to pick up on every word unspoken from your lips between the call of his name and I’m sorry.

You nod and he follows you as crawl into your bed, hair still slightly damp.

“Can you-,” you start and you hear him hum before grabbing your towel and positioning it on your pillow.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh against his chest as his hand rests on your hip, yours holding onto his t-shirt, afraid if you let go that he would slip between your fingertips. And the words are right there on the tip of your tongue, all you needed to do was will them into existence, push your vocal cords to produce the sound, push your lips to form them. But the sheer exhaustion from today kept you silent.

You feel your eyelids start to droop as he responds.

“I’m sorry as well.”

“What else could you be sorry for?”

And as you drift off to sleep, so tired you think you’re making it up you swear you hear him answer you, breathless as his fingers stroke your side, “because I like you.”

***

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perculesspleen · 4 years

Text

First impressions and things I love about Gerard Way's album Hesitant Alien

Okay, so I listened to the first 5 soon before I started typing this, but the rest are being listened to as I type this. Also, I know nothing about music, so my attempts at explaining the parts I love might be weird. (I say the words cool and great a lot because I apparently know a total of 4 adjectives)

The Bureau

First Impression: a rockin' bop, great start to the album

- This is a song I would listen to while getting dressed and ready to kill someone and look really hot while doing it, which is a great way to start an album.

- I can feel the strong beat and the rhythm in the words and it just makes it feel so much more forceful and I love that

- The "everybody's getting on" and then he yells "and so am I!" is just great

- I just love the contrast between the verse and the chorus with the chorus having much more melody, but still being pretty shouty

- The telephone noise or whatever it is at the end? Great

Action Cat

First Impression: It sounds like a post-break up song, but I still like it a lot!

- I'm always a sucker for intros that are just one guitar

- "don't ask a lot and you won't lose a lot" nice

- I like the way the words 'sleep', 'break', and 'make' are like, wavy?

- the emotion in "say I miss you too"? Beautiful.

- I love how it fades and you think it's the end of the song and then he goes "Hey!" and it starts back up with the "do you miss me?"

No Shows

First Impression: Honestly, the name made me think of the type of sock when I first read it. I was bopping my head while listening to this without realizing! It makes me want to dance and sing along, even though I don't know the words yet

- the 'Ooh's at the beginning are really pretty

- I love how certain words just show up a bunch, like 'treble' and 'metal', I find it kinda poetic, I guess

- after the third verse when he stops singing and there's the key change or whatever it is? Transcendent.

- I just love the guitar solo and the drums right after it

- Also, the distortion on his voice right after that? Amazing. I love it.

- the line "It's not love if it's just fucking" makes me laugh every time, for some reason. I just have to smile, I don't know why I find it so funny

- And after that when the guitar makes the screeching noise, I don't know what that's called, but I love it when guitar players do that

- Right before the singing starts again at the end he does this "a a a a ah oh oh!" kind of thing and he does it a couple more times and it's very fun to hear

- I can't tell what he's saying in the background at the end, but I like how it sounds with everything

Brother

First Impression: Okay, so I heard this for the first time a week or two ago, but my first reaction to hearing it was to start crying. It gives me this feeling of yearning and melancholy and I was listening to it on repeat for days when I first heard it.

- This song is super emotional, and I can't listen to it and sing along without crying

- Lyrics are the main thing I focus on first in a song, and I relate to and connect with the lyrics in this song so much

- I like the voices in the background at the beginning. I don't know why, but I just like when music does stuff like that.

- I really relate to "Cause I'm awake / all night long" and "I won't sleep tonight / as long as I still / hear the drums of the city rain" and lines like that because of my insomnia

- You can just hear the emotion in his voice and it kills me

- The chorus is just so beautiful

- "Does anyone have the guts to shut me up?" is another relatable and emotional line to me. There's just so many lyrics in this song that mean a lot to me.

- "there's a chance we can walk away / so hold on tight / because I won't / wait too long" just gives me hope but also explains how I want to get out of here, soon

- "Can you take me home?" just, emotional, and aaaa

- the instruments right after the "when we leave alone" are so pretty

- the whole "like strangers laugh" part at the end is so beautiful to me

- the way it changes from 'sleep' to 'breathe' in the very last lines is just, wow, there goes what was left of my heart

Millions

First Impressions: Really fun and happy sounding, I would dance around the kitchen to this. I heard this and immediately had to put it on loop and listen to it 5 more times.

- Okay, but some of the lyrics are actually really sad?

- This song has me dancing and smiling but I'm also crying about the lyrics

- "AAaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaahh" Need I say more?

- "You can use my friends" vs the "you can't touch my brother and you can't keep my friends" in Honey, This Mirror is a cool parallel

- the little shout right after "a million reasons but I need a million more"

- ^ that's a good line, btw, I like it

- "you believe in love, I believe in faith" vs the "they don't believe in God, we don't believe in luck" from Destroya is really cute because it feels like progress or improvement or something

- Mikey yelling "It was really me!" and then Gerard yelling "It was really you!" makes me smile so much. Like, I smile so huge it almost hurts and I can't help it, it's just such a cute part and I love it so so much and could go on about it for hours, I just, aaaaaa

- the chorus has me dancing, it's just so pretty and fun but also kinda sad

- this one is my favorite so far

Zero Zero

First Impression: funky and awesome!! Super cool! I don't know how to explain this one but I really like it

- Dude, this intro is wack (in a good way!)

- It does the screechy guitar thing I love!

- I'm a sucker for singing with distortion, it's just got such a cool sound

- the guitar during the second verse? Absolutely awesome.

- the line "give me social disease and give me teenage razors" is just, wow,

- and how he sings it like "RAY-zersss"

- it changes from "you are zero" to "I am zero" at the end and, Woah

- the "oh oh oh" in the back ground during that is really cool, too

Juarez

First Impressions: It's really weird at some parts and I'm a fan of that. Most of my friends don't really like my music and would definitely hate this one, but I really like it!

- there's some weird noise 3 seconds in that I can't explain but it's fun!

- I didn't know what to expect for singing, but this surprised me, I really like how his voice sounds in this

- "sing death to the crown, man" is a cool line

- the part right after that sounds really alien-like, it's pretty sweet

- I just really love the singing/shouting in this one

- the ending is super cool, too

Drugstore Perfume

First Impression: a lot softer and calmer than the other songs, it's more of a sway than a head bop. It's really pretty

- some of the songs, like Zero Zero and Juarez feel like they're rushing, but this one is calm and takes its time. I could fall asleep to this

- a tambourine? Effervescent.

- "her dreams don't show in color" is a really pretty line

- the words to this really tell a story and I love that

- the whole "gone today" part just takes my breath away

- I really love the drums in this with the bass drum at the end

- the ending is really neat

How It's Going To Be

First Impressions: It sounds hopeful and also kinda like something I would hear in a musical. I get the feeling that when I pay close attention to the lyrics it'll be sad, but the rest of it sounds hopeful

- the little drum thing after "smoke rings fit the crime"

- "I'll keep the souvenir inside, it's just better in my mind" is such a pretty but sad line

- I was right, this song is actually sad when I look at the lyrics

- "someone who hates to see me go" Oh, I'm crying now?

- "you said we'd all be dead by twenty-five" really hits me because I really can't see me living past that and I've already said that I want to die before I'm thirty

- "We're just bored you're still alive" there are so many good lyrics in this, I'm gonna be listening to this a lot to really focus in on all of them

- the ending is so pretty

Maya the Psychic

First Impression: I've heard of this song but haven't actually heard it before! It's really fun and pretty, another one I would jump around the kitchen singing. Also, it makes me think of my friend @mayograce

- I just really like this!

- the two drumbeats right before the chorus

- this one seems to tell a story, too, which I always love

- the bridge? So cool and so pretty?

- "I know you've had choices to make / but I'm with you / you're never facing them alone today" is so nice and I just love these lines so much

- the ending is really cool and sounds kind of like there's whispering, which really fits with the rest of the song

Television All The Time

First Impression: It feels different from his other songs in the beginning and then comes back to sounding like his other calmer songs. It has a really nice chorus

- I like the way he sings "who you are"

- like I said, the intro sounds kinda different, but then after the first stanza the guitar joins and his voice sounds slightly distorted and it's a cool effect

- the pause before he says 'today'

- his voice is kinda swoop-y, I can't think of the right word, but it's relaxing and I love how it sounds

- the way "cuz I think I'm sick of it now" sounds is awesome

- it just sort of trails off at the end, but I love songs that end leaving you wanting more

Don't Try

First Impression: I had a feeling this one would make me cry, and I was right. He sounds a lot like he did in MCR. Like, most of his solo stuff feels a lot different than MCR did, but this one is really feeling similar, to me.

- This start? Amazing. It kinda spooked me at first, but I'm liking it

- The lyrics are really cool

- "I think you're beautiful too" is when I first realized this song will make me cry

- "Come down, give up, cause it's alright" is when I started crying. It's really comforting. Being told that giving up is alright isn't heard often. This line makes me think of Fake Your Death ("I choose defeat, I walk away") which is another song I love

- "cause you always look mad when you're dreaming" really hits me for the 2 ways I can interpret this line. The first is how when I space out (and dream about getting away) I focus and it makes me look mad. The other is that I look mad because I hate where I'm at and that I have to wait to go out and chase my goals.

- his voice has so much emotion in it, it's amazing

- "I'm kind of miserable, too" is another line I love. It's great when someone you look up to (and obsess over sometimes, lol) understands what things are like. It makes you feel less alone.

- the entire chorus is just so pretty and makes me so emotional

- the ending is super pretty, too

PINKISH

First Impression: Woah. I don't really have any other words, but I really like this one, it's a good finale for an album.

- the first few seconds sound like a thunderstorm when you're inside

- I love the sudden yelling, I really like loud music like that

- and then the next part with the "Now I could have been" sounds so pretty, and the guitar is doing almost the same thing as his voice and then there's the background vocals and I really love it

- it shifts back and forth between the sorta screamo and the sorta clearer, more lyrical part again and it's so cool

- and then gets even clearer and calmer and more melodic it sounds like something I could fall asleep to? Beauty

- then the loud guitar comes back in until the end and it's just great

- definitely a good ending to the album

I loved this album so so much! I'm probably going to listen to it on repeat for the next few days...

My favorite song is a tie between Millions and Don't Try

But yeah, that's my view on the whole album!

#gerard way #hesitant alien

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florrickandassociates · 5 years

Text

TGF Thoughts: 3x03-- The One Where Diane Joins the Resistance

Thoughts on this episode under the cut. I believe this is my shortest recap of the season even though it’s the longest episode ever of The Good Fight.

I don’t like this episode title. It should be called “The One That’s An Hour Long” because that’s what I’m going to remember it as. This episode doesn’t feel padded-- there’s too much going on for it to feel padded-- but it does feel unnecessarily long.

A previously introduces Blum, again. I watched his antics three times last week; I can assure you I don’t need a reminder of what he’s like.

This is my second time through this episode, btw. The other episodes I’ve watched three times (morning of release, with my roommate, while writing these posts) but I told my roommate to go ahead and watch this one without me. Tbh, I’m not looking forward to sitting through it again. Y’all may be in for some nitpicking and ranting.

Lots of music this season: this ep starts off with a song about how 45 is hurting us with misinformation. This is the brilliant plan concocted by the resistance group Diane found while throwing axes. Diane thinks this video is terrible (she’s not wrong) but the rest of the crowd eats it right up.

Parts of this scene-- which satirizes liberals-- are funny. Other parts I’m not sure about. I can’t tell if the ASL interpreter is there because a gathering like this would, realistically, be inclusive or if I’m supposed to roll my eyes at how inclusive liberals are trying to be. I really, sincerely hope it’s the former.

Diane tries to ask a question and she’s overruled, but then some dude in the audience gets to ask a question. If I’m reading this right, they certainly got the sexism of liberal bros right.

The most accurate part of this satire happens next: an audience member points out that the video didn’t mention single-payer healthcare. The filmmaker, reasonably, says they couldn’t touch on every issue, but the audience member insists that single-payer healthcare is THE issue. Another audience member argues that THE issue is global warming. Then the entire crowd starts arguing. That is about how I’d expect this sort of meeting to go.

A middle-aged blonde woman taps Diane on the shoulder and asks her to follow. Diane does, as the entire crowd starts chanting “re-edit” at the filmmaker (which I don’t think would happen but whatever).

Outside, the blonde asks Diane if she wants “a mission.” “You have two options. You could go back in there and they’ll make you the co-chair of the subcommittee on bake sales [...] or you could do something. I’m looking for people who are sick of just bitching and moaning. People who are sick of screaming at the news,” the woman explains. She hands Diane a card with an address and walks away. (There’s no time on the card, but time doesn’t matter on this show.)

Roland Blum is back, and he’s fallen asleep on the RBL elevator. Lucca’s listening to a kid’s song (with no headphones!) when she notices Blum. Maia’s waiting in reception and tells Lucca that Liz wants to see her. Lucca worries she had a meeting scheduled and Maia goes to deal with Blum.

What if I just didn’t recap him? God, I’m tired of him existing.

Blum makes fun of Maia’s small, unassigned desk, which… can’t she just book a conference room for them? “Oh my fucking God, how can anyone take you seriously?” Blum asks. This is… one of the less offensive things he’s said, because it’s kind of true.

Blum notices that someone else has an office and asks Maia who it is. Instead of answering that she’s a co-worker, or with her name, Maia says “she’s a third-year too” which can only make the problem worse. Now it doesn’t just look like Maia works for a firm that’s pressed for space; it looks like Maia is one of the weaker employees at a firm that’s pressed for space.

Good lord. BOOK A DAMN CONFERENCE ROOM.

Lucca’s apologetic when she comes in for the meeting with Liz, but Liz says they didn’t have a meeting scheduled. Liz asks how matrimonial law is going; Lucca says it’s going well. Then Liz says she has a divorce referral for Lucca: herself.

“It’s a long time coming. We’ve had our tensions and, uh, barely even, uh,” Liz explains. That’s most of the explanation we get for why she wants to divorce. I wish we got a little more insight into what her marriage is like, but I don’t mind that much. Plus, we did see her husband being kind of awful with the client list in 2x10.

Also, Liz hasn’t yet told her husband she’s asking for a divorce.

Maia has found a conference room to use, finally. ASA Zschau walks in. He’s taking over the case for Matan and now I miss BrainDead. Also, Spencer Zschau has been an AUSA every time we’ve seen him and now he’s an ASA.

(Yes, I think it’s more important to note the change in Zschau’s job and that Maia found a conference room than it is to note anything plot-related in that scene.)

Liz asks her husband for a divorce the second he arrives home. Maybe not the best strategy. He does not take it well. Okay, I lied, I do want to know more about their marriage. Then again, I think that Ian’s sudden switch to BURN IT ALL DOWN mode (despite Liz’s plea to keep everything civil for their son) says a lot.

Diane goes to a creepy underground meeting spot and finds the Resistance. It’s full of white ladies, mostly around Diane’s age. It’s run by a Valerie Payser, who claims she worked in the Obama White House. All the white ladies eat her story right up.

This is another plot I don’t care much about, especially the second time through. My main comment on this scene is simply that it got New Rules stuck in my head.

Diane eats it right up. The Kings have mentioned that they considered bringing Alicia back for an episode where she and Diane meet at “the resistance” and if it was supposed to be this episode, I’m SO glad they didn’t. I don’t want Alicia back on the show. I don’t want Alicia on the show in a Diane plot (if she comes back it’s gotta be a Lucca plot). And Alicia would NEVER fall for this resistance bullshit. Diane I believe; she’s always been a little impulsive when she’s angry. Alicia? No.

LOL, I see we’re still doing the fake-but-could-plausibly-be-real-even-though-they-feel-like-a-hallucination news stories this season. (This one’s about cynaide in school lunches.)

Liz is no longer working with the DNC (Diane asks) because she was too radical. I thought that was exactly the reason they hired her?

To be fair to Diane, she does seem to want to check her sources on this underground resistance group; she says she wants to make sure it’s real. This is… not what she proceeds to do.

Maia has called a meeting of the name partners + Julius. “You told me last year that if I wanted anything at this firm, I have to ask for it. I want an office,” she declares. Go Maia! (Yes, I said that.)

“Uh, well, Maia, the issue here is space, and we wish we had more. We’re growing, and we hope that all associates, even second-years, will have an office,” Liz responds. Heh, Liz thinks Maia is a second-year and I see why she has that impression. Plus, does Maia’s first year really count since she didn’t do ANY work during it?

Maia corrects her. “I try not to make a fuss, but, Jenna Diamond. She was given an office, even though she joined the firm six months after me,” Maia argues. Well, is Jenna Diamond a more valuable asset for the firm? I’ve seen people at my company be promoted over others who have been there longer, and I don’t think that’s inherently unfair. Given how terrible Maia is at her job, I’m guessing that Jenna is just… better.

Or, as Julius explains, Jenna was on a big case and needed the space. This seems like a bad way to decide who gets offices. Why not hot desk the offices or give them for the duration of a case? Either base it off of performance/rank or don’t assign it permanently.

“And I’m working with Roland Blum,” Maia informs the partners. She informs the partners of this well after she deliberately causes a mistrial. So like, Maia’s now asking for an office because she didn’t ask for help or keep the partners posted on any development of a case they should’ve been looped in on AND she’ll now need to rework. The firm can’t be making much money off of this. If they were, Maia wouldn’t be handling it on her own.

I still don’t understand why Maia is handling ANYTHING on her own in the first place.

Maia says it’s embarrassing to work at her hot desk. Fair.

“She’s using Roland Blum to get an office,” Julius says after Maia leaves. “She still has a point,” Diane responds. “If we give her an office, we’ll have 20 other associates pounding on our door,” Julius continues. And that didn’t happen when they gave Jenna Diamond an office? This seems like a problem that would continue to happen if third-years are working cases without a second chair (or without being the second chair) but don’t have their own offices. Why not just have a few open offices you can hot desk in when you’re meeting with clients?

Liz steps out because Lucca’s got info from Ian’s lawyer. Ian wants to void the prenup, retain ownership of the house (which I think Liz got in her divorce from Adrian lol), and full custody. He also thinks Liz is hiding money at the firm. That escalated quickly.

He’s also going after Liz for adultery (it voids the prenup if she cheated). Lucca looks so uncomfortable talking to her boss about this!

Liz wants to know who Ian is accusing her of sleeping with. Lucca glances at Adrian’s office, but since Diane is still there, Liz initially thinks that Lucca is implying that Ian thinks Liz and DIANE had a thing. But no, he’s accusing Liz of sleeping with Adrian.

Credits! Is it me or did the opening of the theme music change this week?

Michael Sheen is credited with “special appearance by.” This gives me hope he won’t be in every episode.

Jenna’s office is now Maia’s, and I hope the partners understood what they were doing when they kicked someone out of their office for MAIA RINDELL. I don’t think they did, because Jenna’s left a note pad with the top sheet reading FUCK YOU on Maia’s chair. At the same time that I applaud Maia asking for things if she wants them, could she have worked out a deal with Jenna to use her office when Blum comes in?

Maia pastes the FUCK YOU note on the window-wall and smirks at Jenna. Yes, because what you really want to do when you’ve fucked over a coworker for funsies/because you’re entitled is to piss her off even more. I think we’ve established that Maia and I follow different logic.

Marissa-- who is not lacking in sass-- also disapproves of the FUCK YOU sign, but Maia doesn’t care. And then Marissa gets distracted by some resumes in Julius’s office and leaves.

Marissa walks into Julius’s office and says he’s running for a federal judgeship. She doesn’t ask, she says. She recognizes the campaign manager from one of her dad’s campaigns (I would LOVE an Eli cameo this season) and advises Julius not to keep campaign manager resumes out in the open. Good advice, but not immediately clear to me why Marissa is interested in advising Julius on how to successfully become a judge when she knows that he’s conservative.

Lucca, Liz, and Adrian discuss whether or not Liz and Adrian have recently had sex. Lucca is very uncomfortable and suggests that Liz hire another lawyer because of how personal this is becoming; Liz resists. Liz and Adrian insist it won’t get personal, then immediately begin whispering about the times they hooked up after their divorce (but before Liz’s second marriage). They’re not whispering quietly enough, which means that Lucca hears enough to look grossed out and I can hear enough to realize their dialogue ~what happened in the bathroom~ is very similar to Alicia and Will’s dialogue in 5x04.

Court stuff happens. Blum lies outrageously.

Maia praises Blum for lying outrageously in court.

Ian’s divorce attorney is the guy they didn’t hire at RBL last week. Wow, Ian isn’t playing around.

Marissa’s campaign advice is, as you would expect, great advice. And Julius wants more of it. Is Marissa doing this for free? Is she doing it because she wants to feel like she could do her dad’s job?

Ian had his detectives spy on Liz and Adrian so, yeah, I can see why that marriage failed. Liz and Adrian spent 3 hours together after Adrian was shot. Yes, so suspicious. The only thing they could possibly have done in three hours is fucking.

Adrian insists it was caretaking, not sex, and Jay is all, “for three hours?” Is it really so unreasonable that two people could spend three hours together and not fuck?!?!?!?

Maia realizes her client (and Blum’s client) are guilty. She’s stumped. Blum teaches her, yet again, how to make the facts fit the story. We get it. WE. GET. IT.

Also Blum’s story is so over the top no one would believe it. At least, I hope not…

Diane’s #Resistance decides to go after troll farms. Excuse me. They decide to go after a specific troll farm. But they only make that decision after an explainer song about troll farms. The troll farm song, actually, understand what this subplot does not: “we won’t ever beat ‘em ‘til we learn how not to feed ‘em.” Outing an office full of trolls is not going to shut down any of the other offices of trolls. It’s not even going to shut down this office of trolls. (Also, are troll farms literal offices? This seems unnecessary.) Teaching people to fact check and pressuring tech companies to prevent abuses of their platforms will do far more than whatever it is this #Resistance does.

(Of course, I get why Valerie thinks this is a good “mission”-- because she doesn’t give a fuck about missions-- but I don’t get why savvy computer woman, who would almost certainly know better, thinks it is.)

Blum is chilling in Diane’s office and they have a very long conversation about justice and politics and the necessity of lying and blah blah blah, these are not new themes.

The psilocybin is still in Diane’s desk even though we saw her throw it out.

Blum knew Jonas Stern. Oof. I buy that. I don’t necessarily think Stern (who I assume was liberal) and Blum were close, but I can see them being of the same era and even hanging out despite political differences.

Is Blum meant to be older than he looks? The people he mentions as his contemporaries are all way older than he is.

Diane calls Valerie and shares a brilliant idea we’ve only seen this show already do three to five times: CREATE THEIR OWN FAKE NEWS. WOWOWOWOW GROUND BREAKING.

Oh and the NSA nerds are back. This time they’re listening to Diane. Joy. Can’t we be done with this? Also, why did Valerie Payser, who isn’t real, get a cell phone registered to that name? She could just get a burner.

The White Lady Resistance (I think @Nikkaphon called it this first and that’s what it is) is having a great time making up fake news.

“Melissa Long” sounds so much like “Marissa Gold” that for a second I thought Marissa was volunteering to manage Julius’s campaign long before he asked.

Why does Jay think Liz and Adrian fucked?! He is like, very intent on proving this. I think he’s playing bad cop but it doesn’t sound like it.

I’m not recapping every line of this-- mostly because I don’t have the patience to-- but the Liz/Adrian/Lucca plot was far and away my favorite plot of the week. It felt grounded, character-driven, and revealing… and it provided an excuse for Audra McDonald to sing!

(It’s a little strange having a character-driven plot in this VERY theme-driven episode of this mostly theme-driven show. It’s a reminder that I do tend to prefer character-driven shows to theme-driven shows. I prefer both to plot-driven shows, but I don’t think TGW or TGF will ever be plot-driven.)

I repeat: Audra McDonald is singing! I like that they have her sing in flashback so it’s not 100% clear if Liz has an amazing voice or if Adrian perceives Liz’s voice as amazing.

Isn’t this the same song that played over Cartoon Villain Rindell’s suicide attempt? Interesting choice. I am fully in support of reclaiming that song.

It’s fall in this episode but I think it’s meant to be spring. As I’ve said, this show does not care about time.

Blum misses court and Maia seizes a kind of shady opportunity to cut a deal that’s good for her client and bad for Blum’s client. Maia’s method involves tricking someone over the phone, which is the one thing Maia’s actually proven she’s good at.

Liz and Adrian’s innocent story works up until the point where a detective reveals he saw Liz buy the morning-after pill at Rite-Aid.

There are too many clowns in this season.

There was a riot at the troll farm and Diane jumps for joy. I’m kind of embarrassed for her.

Liz is in Diane’s contacts as “Elizabeth Reddick-Lawrence”

Diane calls Valerie to share word of the victory, but Valerie’s gone! The NSA is suspicious of Valerie’s disappearance.

It’s still storming. Melissa Long, Julius’s potential campaign manager, wants to charge him for an interview; Julus thinks that’s ridiculous. He then asks Marissa to run his campaign, and Marissa agrees. Next week-- or whenever we pick this plot up again-- can we please delve into her motivations for agreeing? I think right now it’s just that it inflates her ego.

Why did Liz buy the morning after pill? She didn’t want to have another child… with Ian.

Geoffrey Payton’s next attack is on RBL’s financials, specifically on the payments to “Reddick” in March. These are the payoffs for the women (four of them, which means there are actually at least five since Wendy wouldn’t accept payment) Carl assaulted, but Liz and Adrian don’t want to divulge that. It would ruin Carl’s reputation and, now, make the firm look bad (cover-up, not the crime), so Liz refuses to let this line of questioning go any further.

Lucca takes a minute-- and I really appreciate this-- to be disappointed in her hero. “I came to this firm because of him,” she says.

Liz demands full custody-- the one thing she’s unwilling to compromise on-- but gives in to Ian’s other demand to void the prenup. Poor Liz.

“I hate that he wins ‘cause of this,” Lucca says. “So do I,” Liz agrees.

The judge asks Adrian out. Curious where this will go.

Destroying the troll farm knocked two points off of 45’s approval rating. I don’t believe it. Valerie is missing and no one can find her. Diane says she’ll have her investigator look into it.

Diane sends Jay a text that says “no more texts” and contains sensitive information. This lands Jay on the NSA’s list. What is the point of a text saying no more texts? Just say you have something for him to work on, can you meet?

The NSA stuff isn’t bad, but haven’t we done this enough?

Blum is PISSED at Maia. He’s also being a hypocrite, but that’s the least of his character flaws. He growls and breaks Maia’s office’s window-wall with a laptop. Maia isn’t intimidated. She tells him off, and she actually had my support right up until she picked up the laptop (that is the property of the firm that employs her) and broke a second window-wall (of the firm that employs her and just gave her an office because she asked for one). I already thought her entitled ass was lucky to have a job, and now she’s going to go breaking her own firm’s property just to show her badassery? Just go back to the sunglasses, Maia.

Marissa gives her a look that encapsulates everything I just said, to which Maia responds, “The fuck are you looking at?” Okay Maia. Just because you’re a badass now doesn’t mean you have to be rude to your friends.

(As I’ve mentioned in past weeks, I’m just criticizing how terribly petulant Maia’s behavior is… somehow, I do think this is good character development for her. Maia turning into an entitled lying ball of resentment with a grudge against everyone who didn’t give her the world simply for existing is, in many ways, the natural place for her character to go. It doesn’t require her to suddenly become strategic, it doesn’t require her to become a brilliant legal mind, and it doesn’t require any rewriting of the fundamental traits of her character. I may not like or agree with new Maia, but likability is bullshit. If they can make this arc interesting, and justify its existence, maybe I’ll even like it.)

Jay finds out that Valerie Payser doesn’t exist; she’s really a criminal who preys on rich liberal white ladies with lots of money. What a shock that a secret underground resistance of white ladies might be a scam.

Diane hallucinates/daydreams Blum singing “I’ll be there” in front of terrible green screen backgrounds and my only thought is NOPE.

Inspired by Blum and the strategy of LYING WORKS, Diane decides to fake an email (she is reading off a blank screen but she totally would’ve drafted this) from Valerie and let the White Lady Resistance continue.

Blum has Maia arrested for having hospice drugs. I assume he planted them recently, because if Maia had kept them around after Blum threatened to do exactly this last week, she’s even less bright than I thought.

Well, that’s over.

#The Good Fight #TGFThoughts

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redvsvblue · 7 years

Note

“You’re running the wrong way, kid.” Jeremichael?

So, uh, the Jeremichael wasn’t as much of a focus as I was hoping it would be, so sorry about that. But thank you for prompting and I hope you like it! (I’ve set it in the FAHC AU, btw.)

Warnings: horror environment, not very graphic, though

“You’rerunning the wrong way, kid.”

Jeremyshoves the wooden beam off of his leg and crawls backwards on hishands and feet as the masked man steps closer, the moonlight shiningoff of the barbed wire on his baseball bat. His smile glints just asdangerously and Jeremy rolls to the side just when he swings, thewood thumping into the packed dirt beside him and sending up cloudsof stale dust that clogs in Jeremy’s lungs, makes him coughviolently as he scrambles to his feet and stumbles back – the batwhooshes by him again and he yelps, twisting to break into arun and clumsily vaulting over the next crate – behind him the maskcackles and kicks the box out of the way and Jeremy goes sprintingfor the trees.

“Comeout, come out, wherever you are!” The mask sing-songs, twirling hisbat expertly in one hand and whistling cheerfully. Jeremy’s shirtsnags on a branch and in his panicked flailing it rips, a scrap offabric fluttering sadly on the twig when he looks back to check –his eyes snap up to the mask behind him and he freezes.

Themask stares soullessly at him, dark eyes hidden behind a darker mask,blood streaked up his arms and splattered over the exposed lower halfof his face. Fresh blood.

“Youcan run but you can’t hide,” the mask says, wiping his mouth withthe back of his hand and spinning the bat again, the barbs glisteningwith blood. He rolls his shoulder and lifts the bat and –

Jeremybolts.

Themask laughs manically behind him and chases him, footstepsthumping hard against the ground as Jeremy winds around trees, hislungs burning with the strain and his thighs aching from all therunning – his elbow throbs where he bashed it against a wallearlier and his clothes are cold with sweat and blood, everythingscreaming at him to stop but the fear urging him to move.

Hemanages to gain some ground by circling around a boulder a few times– the quiet, teasing scratch of wire against rock makes himshiver and nearly trip over his own feet.

Hedrops to his hands and knees when he finds long grass swaying gentlyin the breeze – the same breeze that carries dark, menacinglaughter across the forest. Goosebumps sweep down Jeremy’s exposedskin.

Themask doesn’t see him, but he’s standing at the edge of the grass,his piercing stare sweeping the ground around him. He swings the bataround in a low circle and Jeremy can only imagine how easilyit would crush his skull.

Themask strides through the grass and the fourth arc of the bat nearlyhits Jeremy’s ankle – Jeremy stiffens and his heart jumps intotripletime, thudding dangerously fast against his ribs. The maskturns more towards him and lifts the bat to swing again – Jeremy’sthroat closes up. Sweat breaks out over his neck and his thought flipby too quickly for him to form any sort of plan.

Thebat’s aimed right at him.

It’llland straight in his side – he shudders at the thought of barbsembedded in his skin and briefly considers scrambling to run again.

Hedoesn’t have time.

Themask raises his arm.

Inthe distance something cracks and sparks and the mask swivels to thenoise, the bat lowering as he sniffs the air. He shoots one lastglance in Jeremy’s general direction – Jeremy tenses up and sucksin a shaky breath, praying to fucking god that it’s enoughof a distraction – and a few horrible, silent moments later themask heads off to the busted generator, unsheathing the mace at hiship on the way.

“Ohgod,” Jeremy spits, taking a moment to calm his racingheartbeat before daring to look around him – he’s in an emptyspot, nothing but dark trees and low-lying fog gathering around themarsh. He sits up to a crouch and rubs over his throbbing elbow as hesquints to his right – there’s a generator over by the shed, ifhe remembers correctly.

Well,it’s as much as he’s got right now.

Heglances nervously at the hook blended in amongst the trees andsteadfastly doesn’t think about how that was almost him.There’s still blood dripping off of it.

Jeremycreeps along in a crouch, his heart skipping a beat every time hehears that same manic cackling – somewhere in the maze of buildingshe hears Gavin shrieking and the loud crash of wood. He takes thecover of noise to race along to the shed, slamming his back againstthe wood and breathing out a relieved sigh before he relaxes a littleand starts inching around the corner to reach the other side of theshed where he can hear the gentle hiss of a generator.

Anoise erupts from the forest and Jeremy whips around to face it, hisfeet still moving and when he backs around the corner his shouldercollides with something – someone – and he jumps a foot inthe air, barely swallowing down his scream as he spins around with afist raised.

Michaeljumps back two feet and then darts forward again to fist his hands inJeremy’s jacket, his eyes flicking frantically over Jeremy’sface.

“Scaredthe shit out of me, dude,” Jeremy pants, curling his fingersaround Michael’s wrist. There’s grime smudged over Michael’snose and a worrying amount of wet blood soaked into the shoulder ofhis T-shirt.

“Same,”Michael breathes, laughing a little hysterically as he pulls Jeremyin close. “You here for the genny?”

“Yeah.How many left?”

“Justthis one.”

Jeremylooks Michael up and down and smooths his thumb over the cut onMichael’s cheek, frowning at the pull of tacky blood.

“Whathappened here?” He asks. Michael rolls his eyes.

“Fuckin’smashed my face in like an idiot.”

Jeremylaughs quietly and Michael leads him back to the generator, notloosening his grip on Jeremy’s wrist until he has to go around tothe other side of the machine.

“Whathappened to your shoulder?” Jeremy asks, flipping open the paneland using the small spanner he finds inside to turn a bolt next to agroup of wires. Michael’s mouth twists.

“Iwas with Gavin,” he says, glancing over in the direction of thebuildings. “He got got.”

“Really?”

Michaelnods and curses under his breath as the generator jolts underneaththem, sending up a puff of smoke into the cold air.

Theywork in relative silence, only broken by the rush of the wind and thecreak of the trees. Evil laughter ricochets from somewhere, followedby a scream. Jeremy winces at the harsh clank of a hook beingsprung and then the screaming abruptly cuts out.

That’sGavin gone, then.

“Y’know,you could just get the trapdoor,” Jeremy murmurs, when thegenerator’s humming happily underneath them but the sense ofimpending doom is only getting worse, kicking his pulse up and makinghis palms sweat and his fingers slip on the bolts. Michael’s gazesnaps to him and he fiercely shakes his head.

“No,”he says. “We’re getting out together, all right? I’m notleaving you behind.”

Jeremyswallows thickly.

“Atleast one of us should get out,” Jeremy replies. “Jack said shefound it, didn’t she?”

Michaelshakes his head again.

“Notdoing it,” he says.

Jeremyfrowns but drops the subject. The mask starts calling out taunts,each ripple of laughter raising goosebumps on Jeremy’s skin.

Thegenerator jolts and sparks to life, its rumbling rising to a roar aslights flicker on in the distance. Michael fistpumps and hisses out afuck yes that’s almost lost in the sudden gust of wind thatblows by.

“Weshould go,” Jeremy whispers.

“Weshould be gone,” Michael replies. A grin tugs up the cornerof his mouth and Jeremy follows him out towards the maze of buildingsand walls, sticking close to each other in the shadows as they listenout for footsteps.

Michaelscoots up to an edge and peers around – Jeremy holds his breath andwatches their backs, but he doesn’t hear the telltale footsteps.

“It’shere,” Michael whispers, turning back to him with a smile. “We’realmost out.”

“Westill need to open it.”

“Wecan do it,” Michael breathes. He peeks around again and then turnsto grab Jeremy’s shirt again, hauling him in to clumsily presstheir lips together. They’re sweaty and bloody and shivering butthe warmth of Michael’s mouth is grounding and comforting, familiarin its movements.

Jeremybreaks the kiss with a quiet huff of laughter and Michael flashes hima wide grin.

“Really?”

“What?Never know what’ll happen,” Michael counters. He glances at theexit.

“Goon three?” He asks. Jeremy nods.

“One.Two.” Michael sucks in a breath and Jeremy pats him briefly on theshoulder. He’s not really sure who he’s reassuring more.

“Three!”He whisper-shouts, and they dash around the corner, Michael slamminghimself against the wall and swinging the panel down to turn thehandle – the doors start creaking open, jarringly loud with thegrinding of the rusted gears and the clanging of metal.

Themask appears from the shadows of the maze behind him, his gazeflicking between Jeremy and the exit. Michael turns the squeaky crankas fast as he can as the mask approaches, swinging his bat idly fromhis fingers. The mask grins.

“Go!Go!” Michael shouts – Jeremy glances behind him at the gapand back to the mask – Michael yells again and the mask’s eyesdart to Michael.

Themask dashes forward and Michael starts screaming at Jeremy to go– Jeremy does, slipping between the doors and –

Thebat lands heavily against Michael’s body and Jeremy reaches back tofranctically grab Michael’s shirt, bodily hauling him in throughthe doors and hastily stumbling back as the metal monsters close, thegap thinning until all Jeremy can see is a sliver of the mask’sface and his chilling stare.

Thedoors close and Michael immediately slumps against Jeremy, laughinghysterically and cheering as lights turn on in their little escapearea. Jeremy breathes out a shaky god and presses a hand tohis thumping heart as Michael loops an arm around his shoulders anddrags them out the other door.

Ryan’ssipping on a milkshake in the corner of the booth, waving a hand tothem in greeting as Geoff and Gavin giggle madly about something andJack unwraps a burger, uncaring of the black grime streaked over herface.

“Michaelboi!” Gavin exclaims, scooting over to let him sit down in thebooth – Jeremy crams himself in beside Michael and Geoff playfullykicks his legs under the table.

“Dude,when did Ryan go?” Michael asks. Ryan shrugs noncommittally andGavin laughs brightly, glancing at Ryan.

“Hewas the first to get hooked!” Gavin crows – Ryan reaches over toshove him and Jack snorts out a laugh.

“Shutup, it was fucking bullshit,” Ryan grumbles. “The generatorpopped!”

“Soyou fucked up,” Michael says.

“No!I didn’t! It just fucking went!”

“Sure,”Jeremy teases, laughing at Ryan’s glare.

“Geoffgot out next,” Gavin says.

“Hey,at least he wasn’t first this time,” Jeremy says. Geoff perks up.

“Yeah,that’s right, I wasn’t first!”

“Yougot out two minutes after Ryan,” Jack points out.

“Youwere out five minutes after me!” Geoff protests.

“Igot two generators running! And found the trapdoor! You justfucked around with the toolkits!”

“They’reuseful!”

“Yeah,if you know what you’re fucking doing, Geoffrey!”

Whilethat side of the table bickers, Jeremy turns to Michael and Gavin,resting an elbow on the table and propping his chin up with his hand.

“Iheard you getting got, Gav,” he says, cocking an eyebrow. Gavinwaves a dismissive hand.

“Yeah,you were screamin’ up a fuckin’ storm over there,” Michaelteases.

“Itwas bloody scary!”

“Wellno shit, it’s supposed to be.”

“Anyway,it’s not like you came to save me or anythin’!”

“Iwas busy getting the last genny!”

“Oh,bollocks, you and Jeremy could have got me!”

“Gavin,you were halfway across the fucking map - ”

Jeremysighs and rests his cheek against Michael’s shoulder – Michael’sarm drops to his waist and curls tighter around him – and idly rubsat his aching elbow as the adrenaline fades, leaving him tired butexhilarated.

Someonewalking up to their table breaks them out of their loud arguing, andJeremy looks up to see their killer – unmasked now, with messyblond hair falling down around his eyes and the blood wiped off ofhis mouth. The bat’s still in his other hand, the aluminium foilbarbs crushed flat where it slammed against Michael earlier.

“Hey,I’m Scott, I was your killer tonight,” he says, nodding politelyat them. “Great game guys, it was really fun to play with you.”He turns to Michael and Jeremy and extends his hand to shake –Jeremy accepts it and Scott grins.

“Congratulations,”he says. “Gotta say, I liked that teamwork there at the end.”

“Thanks,”Michael says, smiling up at Scott and hugging Jeremy to his side.Scott reaches into his pocket and brandishes two lacquered tickets.

“Well,you’ve won a free game of our minigolf,” he says, handing thetickets to Jeremy.

“Suckit, Geoff,” Michael teases, plucking out one of the tickets andbatting Geoff’s hand with it. Geoff makes a grab for it and Michaelyanks it away, waving it playfully in mid-air.

“Fuckin’- whatever, I don’t even like minigolf,” Geoff grumblesunconvincingly, and both Jack and Ryan burst into loud laughter.

“It’sokay, maybe if next time you don’t give yourself away by dropping ahammer you’ll win,” Jack says, patting his back.

“Yeah,maybe if you actually manage to play,” Ryan adds.

“Ohshut up, you were out first!”

“Yeah,this once!”

Theyfall back into bickering and Jeremy just shakes his head and smilesup at Scott, thanking him for the tickets. Scott nods and wishes themfarewell before walking away.

“Oh,you’re going down, Lil J,” Michael says, swatting Jeremy’sticket with his own. “I’m gonna fucking own your ass.”

Jeremyscoffs and hooks his ankle around Michael’s under the table.

“Youwish.”

#ragehappy #jeremichael #fanfic #mine #fahc #prompt reply #my jeremichael

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akiyama-san · 6 years

Note

I've noticed your comments about Love Live Sunshine and don't get me wrong, we all have our own opinions and I'm not telling you stop posting your negative thoughts about it, but why do you hate Love Live Sunshine so much? And if you hate it that much, why are you even watching it?

I suppose it comes off as hate doesn’t it? Well despite how it appears, it’s not entirely hate, it’s mostly disappointment, and while that might not sound much better i’ll try to explain what I mean, hopefully to a degree that it can be understood.

Spose I should start at the top shouldn’t I?

I think it goes without saying that this point that I didn’t like the original show at all, it had its moments, and 2 or 3 good characters, which isn’t saying much I realize but these casts are fucking bloated of course only a handful will be likeable. The concept seemed really fucking stupid from the outset, and it is, but I’ve seen worst, and as a first attempt by SunRise for an Idol show, to my knowledge, the idea to give it an actual plot to follow was in theory a noble one. It failed completely, but the thought was there. More to the point, almost everyone was completely flat, incredibly stupid, and beyond insufferable.

I’ll be honest, I can put up with a lot, and if I had chosen to watch it of my own volition I’d probably have been more forgiving of the writers dancing on active fault lines, but at the time some years back, I had several people breathing down my neck to watch the fucking show so I went in pissed off. Don’t get me wrong, that doesn’t change the fact that these characters say and do things that would make me want to hurt a small child, but I would still have been more kind to it in the long run.

Then the movie happened, and well.... Lets just say the series needed the fucking soft reboot that was Sunshine after that abysmal travesty of a movie that completely deficated on a third of the casts character development. I’m still trying to work out the quantum fucking mechanics of how Honoka could receive her microphone from her future fucking self BTW.

I openly admitted this at the time, and this is important because this is often overlooked by the crowd. I said that after the failure of the movie, and knowing that a new series was coming, if SunRise could learn from their mistakes, then I would gladly and open-mindedly go into Sunshine with a positive attitude and be kinder to it if the series was able to escape its charred charcoal burned roots.

Needless to say I was absolutely blown away by how incredibly Sunshine could be at times, and how baffling disgusting and incompetent it could be as well. I stress that Sunshine is wholly the better property I was able to enjoy more than whole episodes and character arcs completely this time around, as opposed to the original where I enjoyed maybe 10 minutes of its total 700 minute run from episode 1 to movie credits.

The series had incredible characters to start, those already good characters ACTUALLY GREW INTO EVEN BETTER CHARACTERS, THESE CHARACTERS ACTUALLY GROW AND MATURE AND THAT’S INCREDIBLE. I’ll say openly that the second years are some of the best characters I’ve seen in any anime in the past several years, and I would never hope to take away from that. Better was that we actually had rivals that we could see and understand, that weren’t placed on a pedestal for no discernable reason, one that stood on relatively even ground that could be combatted in real time, force growth and change upon both groups.

At the same time, while the series had heights and feats that rivaled Everest, it also had lows that would put the Mariana Trench to shame. No, I don’t care what anyone says, I will never get over all the bullshit that happened between Mari and Kanan, and how absolutely disgusting Kanan is, even now, refusing to grow up or stop being a cunt or do anything of value to the group you so claim to love. I’ll be generous and say I was fucking disgusted by SunRise repeating what happened with Honoka and Kotori in the first season here with Mari and Kanan, almost beat for beat. It was terrible the first time, and suicidally bad the second time.

To regain the focus, by then end of it while my opinions were of the mixed nuts variety with plenty of roasted salt, I still gave it a hearty recommendation because I thought it was genuinely pretty good, blue cuntveats notwithstanding.

NOW

Where my problem overall with Season 2 lies. If it disappointment and wasted potential were a physical force this series could level mountains.

From the beginning we’re told that we’re on an incredibly strict time crunch and that we need to focus all our efforts hardcore in the second round.

Only for almost literally all of the first 6 or 7 episodes to be nothing but filler and padding to waste time, where no growth or progression of any kind took place at all, and such wonderful gems as

Dia: Please call me Dia-Chan.

Chka: No!

and the omnipresent

Chika: Teach how to do a backflip

Kanan: Not on your fucking life!

Kanan: Oh shit she learned how to do the backflip...

Where it all came to a head however was with the reveal of just how many students the school actually had, because that was something that was never brought up. The total number of students is 68 when all are accounted for. And the is beyond miserable. 100 fucking students isn’t enough, to maintain the school you need at least 200, but closer to 300. With 68 students the school should’ve closed fucking years ago. The revelation of that number killed the entire fucking show, it made moot the efforts and development of every single fucking character, because no matter what, even if they had gotten 100 students, this same predicament would still inevitably rear its head once again next year or the year fuckin after.

I want to make clear, more than anyone else on this site, I have authority to speak on this matter, and no one can refute this, hell I’d barely even listen to them if they did because I severely fucking doubt they ever dealt with this sort of thing, if they did they would totally agree with me.

I have come face to face with a school closure myself. 15 years ago the district announced that my Elementary school would be closing, this school with 700 students that churned out some of the best results in the city might I add. It was a hard and long fought battle, it lasted 3 years, but eventually the parents won that war, and it’s still open now. How did they do that? By actually getting involved, going to meetings, talking directly to superintendents and comptrollers, explaining things like how some of them go to work really early or work late, they can’t send their kids anywhere else because they’d never be able to make it to other schools in the morning on time or pick up on time because of how far away they are, how different schools offer different programs, and not all schools offer the same accommodations for special needs children as this one did, ETC. The point is, the parents got active in the fight, the people that might have been able to affect the outcome did, and while it was no easy task, they did it, they actually fucking one that battle.

I don’t expect even a fraction of that to occur, but to at the same time tell me that the parents don’t know or care at all, much less any of the other fucking 59 students are powerless to help in any meaningful capacity is an absolute load of horse shit.

Where it started to bring my blood to a boil, nay to a bursting point, was what happened in the last to episodes with Saint Snow. The best song the franchise ever gave us was Self Control, followed by Shocking Party. This is a fact. From a single interaction some of the most intriguing and likeable characters we got were also Saint Snow. For them to be all but ignored in season 2 until 8 fucking episodes in is ludicrous, but for their first appearance in over 10 episodes to be them failing a concert and us not even getting to hear any of the fucking song, is insulting, it’s infuriating, it’s domestic abuse. This isn’t a slap in the face, this is Studio SunRise forcefully shoving their cock in your mouth against your will and punching you in the eyes with brass knuckles for crying about the cock in your mouth.

Honest to God, if I wasn’t committed to seeing this through, these last two episodes would be my first set my merchandise on fire moment, and that is saying a lot. It might sound like i’m being overdramatic, but honestly there are a lot of people that agree with me on this matter.

I did a lot of thinking in writing this post and it took me the better part of an hour to write it. I still hold fast on my thoughts about the original, 2/10 garbage.

I still hold to my opinions of season 1 Sunshine, 7/10 very good.

But this season? Well let me put it this way, I score every episode and tally the scores at the end, if season one got a 70 percent

Season 2 probably wouldn’t even reach a combined 20/130

I will still recommend newcomers to Sunshine season 1 absolutely, but I will also absolutely tell them to pretend season 2 never happened, do not watch it because it will make you commit homicide in the aftermath.

Why do I hate Sunshine Season 2?

Because SunRise finds new and exciting ways to fail at absolutely everything on every single level every week. I infamously gave the movie a 1/10, in the long run, I think I would sooner rewatch that movie on loop than ever rewatch this season of Sunshine ever again.

#love live #love live sunshine #love live school idol project #Anonymous

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melancholiablackbile · 7 years

Text

A lot of questions... my my, someone's curious lol

@black-satin-dancer tagged me, cheers dude :D

Rules: answer all the questions, add one of your own and tag as many people as there are questions …pshh please, let’s keep it realistic - I don’t even know that many people irl. (also didn’t feel obligated to answer the Dragon age/Mars effect questions, because I’ve never played it)

1. coke or pepsi?

Neither. I absolutely hate fizzy sweet drinks lol. The only thing I enjoy is kombucha and I’ve had ginger ale which I can tolerate. (btw did you know there’s something called bacon soda? I just found out and I’m absolutely horrified and disgusted. pls burn this knowledge out of my brain thank)

2. disney or dreamworks?

I don’t have a preference, nor am I overly invested in any of the two, so it depends. By Disney I really like Hocus Pocus, The Nightmare before Christmas and Frankenweenie, to pick a few. As for DreamWorks, Penguins of Madagascar are THE SHIT omg 3. coffee or tea? I’m a tea person, however I enjoy coffee flavour in things

4. books or movies?

Both

5. windows or mac?

I use windows, don’t feel like I’m missing out or anything tbh

6. dc or marvel?

I’m only starting to get into comics, and I’ve probably seen more marvel films than dc ones, but I think I like dc a little more I like the older Batman films by Tim Burton.

7. xbox or playstation?

playstation. “OF COURSE we’re going to go with the ps4 - they’re blacker!” :D

8. dragon age or mass effect?

Haven’t played either, but was thinking about giving Dragon age a go

9. night owl or early riser?

aw shit dude, I don’t even know anymore. my sleeping schedule is so fucked up lately, I tend to be a night owl tho. But hey, time isn’t really anyway, so..

10. cards or chess?

both, but you can do more with cards. like chess is just one game, but there are lots of different card games. I personally identify with CAH, I think the company should hire me, because I’m a horrible person lmao

11. chocolate or vanilla?

chocolate all the way. I don’t eat it often, but when I do, I’m a snob about it - I only like the dark stuff (only vegan ofc). bonus points, if there’s dried fruit like berries in it. To sum it up (i’m taking this way too seriously and detailed lol, but I have insomnia ¯\_(ツ)_/¯) overall, chocolate flavour is better I guess, vanilla makes me vomit, it’s disgusting and I hate it. 12.vans or converse? I used to own a pair of converse, but neither are shoes I’d wear now

13. fluff or angst?

a good combination of both ehehe

14. beach or forest?

forests are awesome - they are green and smell amazing, you can spot a lot of wild animals and the atmosphere is very serene and calming. I’ll always pick forests over beaches, unless the beach is all sand or small round marble stones, the water is clear without the detached, rotting algae stuff that floats around and ew, the sun has fucked off so I don’t get sunburnt (my skin always skips the tan stage right to red and I prefer pale skin anyway) and all sweaty and shit, there are NO people beside those I’m there with and I do NOT spot any animal while in the water that’s bigger than like 5cm. Because even though I love and respect it deeply, I’m genuinely afraid of sea life, I don’t care that there are lots of totally harmless creatures. …lmao, I feel like a rich asshole saying all that - way too many demands. (sorry sea/ocean, I love you, but you freak me the fuck out)

15. dogs or cats?

I have dogs, but I love both. With dogs, the love is more likely to be returned though :D

16. clear skies or rain?

clear night skies for star gazing, rain during the day

17. cooking or eating out?

I eat mostly raw vegan nowadays, because it’s healthy I don’t have the energy to cook and can’t be arsed and I’m not too fond of eating in public so… preparing/eating food at home?

18. spicy food or mild food?

all the spices lol

19. halloween/samhain or solstice/yule/christmas?

How is this a question, have you met me? My whole existence basically revolves around celebrating Halloween like every day

20. would you rather forever be a little too cold or a little too hot?

The first one is way better imho, I’m usually a little too cold anyway (no pun intended omg) and I’m fine with that.

21. if you could have a superpower, what would it be?

Hydrokinesis (so basically I’d be a water bender ehehe) or Telepathy

22. animation or live action?

both are great (with the exception of some anime adaptations lol)

23. baths or showers?

showers don’t take too long, but baths are very nice from time to time

24. team cap or team ironman?

Team Loki, duh! No, but honestly, I’m not really invested in the whole civil war thing, but if cap is a nazi, then I’m team ironman

25. fantasy or sci-fi?

both are amazing and bring happiness into my life

26. do you have three or four favourite quotes, if so, what are they?

I guess I have a lot of favourite ones, but these two came to my mind right now: “I do desire we may be strangers” (Shakespeare) it’s such a classy and eloquent way to tell someone you hate them :D “And so being young and dipped in folly, I fell in love with melancholy” (E.A. Poe) because ME tbh

27. youtube or netflix?

Youtube, no netflix here

28. harry potter or percy jackson?

Harry Potter all the way. I’ve read the first Percy jackson pentalogy and don’t get me wrong, Greek mythology is awesome, but wizards over demigods

29. when do you feel accomplished?

Idk, when I’m able to do more than the bare minimum and when I totally Tony Stark the whole subject/study material the night before the exam. and probably smug/petty rather than accomplished - when I prove horrible people/people I don’t like wrong or do things they don’t approve of lol

30. star wars or star trek?

I have to say Star Trek but I love both

31. paperback or hardback books?

Hardback. HARDBACK!

32. horror or rom-com?

I’ve always gravitated towards horror - psychological, gothic, really bad b/c movie style, etc. - I get bored by rom-coms

33. tv shows or movies?

depends, but both. as an aspiring actor, beside theatre, I think I’d like to work on films over tv shows - if I ever get the chance to do so that is

34. favourite animal?

penguins, rats, corvids.. but like, birds in general and all animals are awesome anyway and precious and worth of life 35. favourite genre of music? alternative rock - which is a broad spectrum tho, so I guess rock sub-genres in general.. art rock, goth rock, punk rock my favourite (purely because of the name) is krautrock (aka kosmische Musik) which is the German term for space rock, but the literal translation is either herb or cabbage rock lmao :D throw in some psychedelic stuff, ambient music, experimental and classical and I’m good to go

36. least favourite book?

Madame Bovary. I think The Great Gatsby was boring too. I don’t usually read books without researching it a bit before so I can somewhat predict whether I’ll like it or not. (btw, if you’re into fantasy at all, 10/10 recommend reading the series A Raven’s Shadow by Anthony Ryan, he’s such an eloquent writer and the plot and characters are incredible! 37. favourite season? The season of Halloween - autumn all the way

38. song that’s currently stuck in your head?

Cinnamon Bone by Eliza Rickman. She has a really nice voice and combined with the melody it sounds very unique. Actually didn’t know who the singer was until a few days ago. She also performed in the weather section in a Welcome to Night Vale episode. Oh and I rewatched CATS the musical on Sunday, so like.. the whole libretto is playing in my head on loop :D I’ve pretty much known the entire thing by heart since I was like 8 lol

39. what kind of pyjamas do you wear?

Either boxer shorts or Levi Ackerman’s running titan pyjamas lmao

40. how many existential crises do you have on an average day?

I’m having an ongoing one since the age of 16 tbh

41. if you can only choose one song to be played at your funeral, what would it be?

Space Oddity by David Bowie

42. favourite theme song to a TV show?

I’ve know this song before I started watching the show, but Far from Any Road from True Detective is amazing. And the opening to snk season 2 lol, it gets me all fired up and ready to salivate every time Levi appears cry probably idk :D

43. harry potter movies or books?

even though, they are problematic in some aspects, both have their charm (pun absolutely intended this time)

44. you can make your OTP become canon but you’ll forget that tumblr exists. will you do it?

Bitch, my otp is canon. and I doubt anyone can really forget about tumblr - you can try and leave, but it will never leave you

45. do you play an instrument and if so, what is it?

Not like professionally or since early childhood and all that, but I taught myself how to play the violin and I think I’m pretty decent. Same goes for drums. My dad and I low-key collect musical instruments, I think we have around 20+ pieces ^^

46. what is the worst way to die?

alone and helpless and in excruciating pain from whatever the cause was that didn’t kill you immediately though, so you have to suffer

47. if you could be entirely invisible for a day, what would you do?

Be sneaky ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) lol idk, I’d do stuff anxiety and self-consciousness prevent me from in normal life. Okay, that is so pathetic, but my first thought was “I’d go swimming” … *wipes away a tear*

48. If you could have personally witnessed anything in history what would it be?

I feel like it’s kinda selfish and considering I’d choose this out of any moment in history maybe a wasted opportunity? but I would have loved to see David Bowie perform. Idk, I’m sure there’s more, but it’s 3am here..

49. If you could understand animals but you could never understand humans again, would you?

I find I often don’t understand humans anyway..

50. What is your most favourite album currently?

The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars by David Bowie is my go to favourite album, haven’t really listened to whole albums lately, just a few songs here and there 51. (my question) What is your favourite word/phrase/colloquiallism? Name one (or more) per language you speak c:

tbh, Jeremy tagged most of the people I’d tag too, so I’m just adding @the-river-dream-shore and @slecnaztemnot to this if they or anyone else feel like it ;) I’m going to sleep now hopefully~

Note: Wow, that’s a lot of reading material lol. Why did I sound so angry?? I was tired, so that took a toll on my answers, I promise I’m not that much of an asshole :D

#tag game #questions #personal

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elbowhickey · 6 years

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What do Tupac, NWA, Green Day, The Beastie Boys, and Boston all have in common?

It’s almost 2019 and only 4 of them are in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. I have sat on this for a long time (no pun intended but I’ll take it), but reading the recently released list of the 2019 inductees https://www.rockhall.com/rock-roll-hall-fame-announces-nominees-2019-induction, I am officially past my limit.

What. The. Hell.

The reasoning behind this is that Boston has such a small body of work, a total of just six studio albums, and that’s somehow the leading factor. ‘They just didn’t make much music’. I graduated with a degree in Strategic Communications, basically a PR degree, but I started in Pre-Law. So, let me go old-school and formulate an argument, because I cannot understand this to save my life.

Boston has sold a measly 76 Million albums worldwide, 31 Million in the US. That means they have more albums sold than Journey, The Police, and Aretha Franklin - all current members, btw. But, I digress.

Let’s say that we’re keeping Boston out of the voting because of their short body of work. I will leave FIVE of their six albums out of this. That’s right, let’s look just at their 1976 release, “Boston” for just a second. That ONE album is number 15 - no, you did not misread that - NUMBER FUCKING FIFTEEN on the all-time album sales list, as in all of forever and everyone that has ever made music in the history of humankind. That album had just eight songs, so if we take just half of that one album - More Than a Feeling, Peace of Mind, Foreplay/Long Time, and Rock and Roll Band - you will find three songs that made it into the ever-coveted the Top 40. The album stayed on the charts for 132 weeks. If you suck at math, that’s 2-1/2 YEARS. Am just curious, who was the first band ever to debut at Madison Square Garden? Oh, yeah. It was Boston, because of that ONE album. Because of that one album in a total of six which is too small a body of work.

So yeah, let’s rule them out because their body of work is so small. I mean, is just one album, right?

Except a Top-5 hit in Don’t Look Back, several Top-50 hits over the next few years, a throw-away album a decade later which produced a meaningless #1 hit (Amanda), a mediocre-at-best Top-10 hit which everyone who makes music apparently manages to do (We’re Ready), and a squeaker into the Top-30 that we’re not even remotely going to talk about. Because those were different albums. I said one.

So, there’s that, but can we focus for one moment on what we’re actually talking about here? We’re not talking about the most album sales of all time, because let’s face it, as of 2018 ‘The Bodyguard’ soundtrack is #6, which still falls short of Shania freakin’ Twain. But what is it that we ARE talking about? Oh, yeah, it’s ROCK AND ROLL, and the supposed “Hall of Fame” institution that surrounds that phenonmenon.

I will throw punches with you blow for blow if you can even attempt to tell me that Boston did not shape Rock ‘n Roll in the 70s and 80s, or that their influence is less important than NWA or Green Day. As a guitarist, I can take someone who has never even touched a guitar and teach them damn near every Green Day song in less than a week. And get the fuck out with any argument you can possibly give how NWA (samples? loop editing? ACTUAL SONG WRITING? anyone?) shaped Rock ‘n Roll more than Boston. I will end you. Listen to any classic rock station in any even remotely major US city for a few hours, and tell me that at least three Boston songs are not still played in heavy rotation on a frequency that rivals any classic rock band not already in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, or any other classic rock band at all. It won’t happen, I openly challenge any bean counter.

I adore Tupac, I grew up on NWA, and I played the Dookie album so many times over - I will never argue that all their contributions were unimportant to music history (to MUSIC HISTORY), but I will feed you knuckles and not feel the least bit guilty about it if you can honestly tell me they meant more to rock history as a whole than Boston has.

But if you want the #1 reason I am posting this rant? It’s this man right here. It’s Tom Scholz. Yes, he’s aloof as balls. Yes, he downplays his playing ability and his contribution more than anyone over the last several decades. Yes, he’s so humble as to never discredit anyone who has ever done anything at all or recorded anything on their Tascam 4-track in their mom’s basement. He’s a total goofball. He’s flakier than Kellogg’s. He’s your stereotypical rocker toolbox.

But... he’s a genius. And I don't mean his engineering degree from MIT. He is a tone-chasing perfectionist. He was never satisfied with “ well enough”. I read an interview years ago where he was recording on tape and wanted to add something extra so on a whim he reached over and pushed on the spindle of the tape as it was recording and produced a tone bend that is not possible to play as it recorded. It was just a thing to him, but became something that virtuoso musicians have chased for decades and are still unable to reproduce on an instrument. Tom Sholz was never ok with ok. And THAT is what makes Boston incredible. Tom Sholz is a tone guru who was never satisfied with “what will sell albums”, which may have to do with why there was only six. You know, his all-time record-setting one and the other five that weren’t just wet sneezes in a bandana but are somehow overly ignored. His music is precise, and exact, and technical, but that somehow falls within a “limited body of work”, despite the one and only one body of work as I’ve instanced here in an attempt to incite a riot being record-setting as fuck and blowing away almost all of history as recorded by mankind.

There are plenty of snubs when it comes to the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, but none are as heinous as leaving Boston out. Again. Still. What the crap, world. I openly hate all of you. This so wrong that the word wrong doesn’t even remotely begin to cover how wrong it is. Boston belongs in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame.

#boston #rock and roll hall of fame #tom scholz #enough is enough

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