#like when there's a sort of underlying ability that everyone has at least a little bit of but has to learn to control for it to be useful | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

crimsoncosmic · 1 year ago

Text

The Eight Episode Formula: Binge Watching, Filler Complaints, Streaming TV Services & The Consequences

Does anyone else remember how there used to be a certain point in time where TV shows used to have at least 23 episodes per season and each episode was about a maximum of 45 minutes long? Where each episode would be released weekly and everybody would talk about it the next day? If you ask me, that was the golden age of TV in my opinion. The seasons had plot lines, character arcs and development and occasionally, a good filler episode to give us a break from the main serialized plot point.

Unfortunately, a lot of new shows are lacking these same things, and I think it’s not just a downgrade in writing or quality in general, but I think it’s got something to do with the new formula shows use by dropping 8 episodes per season, each of which being an hour long, which majorly damaged the pacing and the overall writing of the show.

Now, it’s worth noting that this formula could work for some series, depends on the type of show it is. But, most producers aren’t considering this aspect and trying to apply this formula to every series possible, which is making TV shows more boring to watch, as now, TV has become a lot less enjoyable.

While it’s not exactly easy for many to put their finger on why this is the case, I have a few possible suggestions as to how this formula makes shows less enjoyable to watch.

Disclaimer: This is a matter of personal opinion and is not intended to attack any specific people. This is only centered around criticism.

1. Binge Watching

The first thing that I think of when it comes to this topic is the influence of binge-watching. Now, I understand some shows are better off being binge watched within the span of a few hours. But, that can only apply to so many shows. A show like Avatar: The Last Airbender isn’t meant to be watched and finished in one day. It’s not written for that sort of formula. But, nowadays, shows are all trying make their shows binge-able that can be finished within a day. And, it’s not really making shows more enjoyable.

For one, the writing itself is rushed. Even if the episodes are an hour long, it still feels like there’s too much being crammed into one episode more often than not. There’s not much time to develop characters or do any world building because they’re too focused on working on the main plot. There’s little to no subplots, no character arcs, no side quests, just this one plot point that’s the only purpose of the entire story. There’s no underlying theme or anything, which I guess is fine, but if the story has little to nothing else going for it besides a singular plot line that they rush through, than what’s the point?

Now after you binge watch a show, you don’t feel the same way you would when you would binge to catch up on the most recent weekly episodes you had missed of a show you liked. Now, it’s just over with and that’s that. The story barely sticks and half the to, you probably can’t even remember what it’s about because it rushed through everything and there was too much to take in.

Because they’re trying to make shows to be binge-watched rather than just watched at a normal rate, they’re not working on actually making a story worth watching or caring about. They’re just making a quick cash-grab that will have its fifteen minutes of fame before everyone forgets about it.

Which is another reason why binge-watching has an effect on shows, mainly their ability to continue them. When everyone binge watches a show, everyone has seen it all and its popularity is short lived. They don’t try to keep the audience invested. When they made weekly episodes, it increased the interest because everyone would wait to see it, and then they’d be intrigued to get to the next episode when it airs. Its fame lasts longer when everyone would be exposed to the same amount of content at the same time and they’d all be on the same page to talk about it. Now, everyone talks about it for at least a month or two and then it dies down. So, even if they did make a second season, it wouldn’t get as much viewers because nobody was anticipating it or even cared about it.

So, it was almost as if it was all in vain.

2. Streaming Services

Arguably streaming services and the binge watching thing go hand in hand, since it’s streaming services who mainly advise this formula. With streaming services, there’s no wait, since all of the episodes are dropped at the same time. So, naturally, they get binge-watched. But, that’s mainly the thing that Im referencing in their context. When I mention streaming services, I’m focusing more on their lack for care of shows.

Along with binge watching leading to the fast fashion of shows where they only trend for a few weeks but then eventually become irrelevant and everyone moves onto the next trending show, it also causes streaming services to not care for their shows anymore. A lot of times, streaming service have a habit a canceling shows that made a lot of money and earned a lot views, that would gain even more had there been a second season. But, due to their tendency to rather follow trends as a cash grab than actually continuing a pre-established enjoyable show with a wide audience, they cancel it.

And, it’s a shame, since they usually cancel shows that are genuinely good, with good stories and good characters and a lot of potential. Only because it doesn’t fit what’s currently trending. These streaming services seem to care more about what they think the people want than what they’d actually prefer. They don’t treat these forms of media as art pieces (even though they are) they treat them like products to sell.

And as I mentioned before, there are some shows that were originally intended to have a minimum of 15-20 episodes. But, due to them being produced by streaming service companies (Netflix for example), they’re forced to cut it down to the 8 episodes format, which ends up causing writers and actors to make adjustments to their pre-planned work, which leads to more working, it also makes it difficult for them to write it properly since the show might be cancelled after the first season. They try to get in as much as they can as possible out of fear that they might not get a chance to continue the story and even if they did, they won’t be allowed to do it the way they originally planned to. And it often ends in the writing becoming a bit sloppy.

So, in the end, there’s no benefit to it. Their work has been ruined compared to what it was originally supposed to be and it’s most likely going to be cancelled, so the struggle would be all for nothing.

3. Filler Episodes Complaints

Okay; This one might be a little obscure, but I felt as if it was worth referencing. When shows actually were making the 20 episode seasons, there was a common complaint. At least 1/3 of those episodes were filler episodes or episodes that didn’t dwell on the main serialized plot point. They just served as little breakaways from the intensity of the main storyline. And, people hated that.

There was a never-ending hatred for filler episodes, as many believed they didn’t serve any purpose in the story and that they were useless. So, instead of just skipping filler episodes, the more reasonable thing to do, they instead advocated for shows to stop doing filler episodes as a whole. Only have episodes that center around the main plot, since filler served little to no purpose in the quality of the story.

Except, now that there’s a severe lack in filler episodes, in fact, they practically don’t do filler episodes anymore, it becomes more apparent just how important they were. When watching shows now, it’s more common to find it hard to care about any of the relationships or the characters or anything. Now, a lot of shows feel hollow, incomplete. Practically unfinished.

There’s no character development, no backstory, no arcs, no world building, none of those things despite them being key factors to making a good story. And, that’s when it became obvious as to why filler episodes are important.

Filler episodes give the writers time to flesh out the characters and show other sides of them that we don’t get to see during the main episodes. It shows us how the characters are when they’re actually in a normal situation, and gives us insight to their personalities. Filler episodes could also be used to flesh out characters backstories as well and could be used to give characters more development.

They also allow for little side quests and subplots, that allow for more world building. Filler episodes could give writers a chance to explore the world outside of the main plot, and main characters. It gives us a chance to fully indulge in the world and fall in love with it. Develop an attachment to it, so vital moments within the story are much more impactful.

Filler episodes helped further develop worlds and characters as a whole. But, due to people complaining about filler episodes, since they wanted to only focus on the main plot, studios have decided to eliminate them altogether, making the shows shorter. And the effects became obvious within the writing.

Filler could contribute to the writing just as much as other episodes. They make the audience develop an attachment.

TL: DR

The 8 Episode Per Season TV Format has become a repeated pattern amongst newer shows now, and it’s having an effect on the quality and enjoyability of shows.

#media #netflix #tv shows #writing #movies #media literacy #filler episodes #really long post #but this has been on my mind for a while #I miss old TV #and filler episodes

7 notes · View notes

bonefall · 2 years ago

Note

I think the most pertinent, fundamental question to ask at this point is: How canon do we want to make the 1981 musical Cats by Andrew Lloyd Webber to Better Bones? Since you've done so fantastically well at fleshing out alternate but no-less-viable systems of belief, that door has been left wiiiide open. Stripped of the zany dance numbers and stage actors in copious makeup, you can't deny that the underlying Jellicle cat religion / Heavyside Layer wouldn't be out of place. Don't lie to us. Don't you dare.

We don't know when the musical takes place, but as for where, the Jellicle Cats and their religion are centralized in a junkyard somewhere in London. Depending on how far their area of influence extends, there could be a few cats in a sect or two of BloodClan who practice the faith of a land to the south, or otherwise believe in the existence of the Heavyside Layer. Or say, the junkyard is done away with in the late 90's and a diaspora of Jellicle Cats spreads across the land. Their descendants hope one day to make the pilgrimage for one last ball, and are invariably seen as Rather Offputting by everyone. (In-story it'd all amount to rare sequiturs from a nameless extra or two which increase in probability the further one heads south.)

Hey bonefall hey, do you think Skyclan has a word for this? It'd be a corruption of the English "dear little [cats], of which "Jellicle" is a romanization. How would you say Jellicle with Clanmew pronunciation?

You can't run from this forever.

Stripped of the zany musical numbers and stage actors in copious makeup??? What are you, Tom Hooper?!

If you're going to put the Jellicles in the BB Universe, you fucking BETTER be taking inspiration from the cancelled 1997 Steven Spielberg animated musical adaptation which places the cats in postwar London sometime circa 1945 and implied that the cats had heavily cultural emphasis on song, dance, and performance

Which btw would place Grizabella's Jellicle Ball pretty firmly in the Code Era of my adaptation (built around the canonical tidbit that Turtle Tail was hit by a Ford Model T meaning the Dawn Era was pre-war).

It would be before the main Warrior cast is born (Except Holly due to infamous Time Travel Shenanigans)-- but Jellicles, after all, were there when the Sphinx was built, so it's safe to assume they'd still be around in the future as a cultural group.

Really the biggest barrier is that they live in bloodbourne London. Too far southeast to communicate with Clan cats or even BloodClan, who are northwest. Park Cats are from further south, but no further south than Gloucestershire at most.

So, serious answer, they can absolutely be canon in this universe, or at the very least they can be slotted in easily. I built a brand new religion system exactly to accommodate the existence of multiple cultural groups and honor the afterlives of each.

In fact, Jellicles fit perfectly into it.

They have a heaven (Heavyside Layer) but no hell, exactly the way that a "vanilla" type religion can form on its own. Really there's just one question-- what's their leader power?

Old Deuteronomy...

Is said to have lived many lives in succession (possible continual reincarnation?)

May choose the next cat to ascend to the Heavyside Layer (immediate patronification?)

But at the same time, there are some cats who seem to display magical powers, akin to the Sister's power distribution system. Mr. Mistoffelees is one, able to perform simple magical tricks. As far as I remember, there are two.

Conjuration (Ability to change the location of an object in space)

Levitation

These both seem like versions of the same power, really. It makes sense, too, that culturally they would value agility to the point of veneration. It ties into dancing, avoiding cars and dogs, stealing things.

In any case though-- you begin to lose these sorts of abilities the further you go from a group, without some kind of token. The Sisters are the example I've written so far; Tree needs some kind of item in order to see ghosts when he's not near the rest of the Sisters. The Jellicles are also a pretty proud group, I can't see them making these "tokens" for any old wanderer.

So maybe there's just a few of them, and Macavity has one stolen?

hmmmm... Maybe those reincarnations have to do with who's supposed to Hold The Token, and Old Doot has basically been one of them for eons. Maybe Mistoffelees was the most recent reincarnation from the Jellicle Ball?

Anyway TL;DR yeah Jellicle cats can exist in Better Bones, they're just too far away to interact with Clan cats.

Clanmew pronunciation of Jellicle = "Shewakl"

#BONES HAVING WEIRD INTERESTS STRIKES AGAIN #bone babble #jellicle cats #better bones au

102 notes · View notes

azucanela · 4 years ago

Text

chapter ii

pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

warnings: cursing. mentions of a bomb.

word count: 3k

summary: the internet is enamored with the idea of y/n l/n and bakugou katsuki, two renowned pro heroes, dating. the first issue? the pair rarely interacts. the second issue? apparently, they hate each other, not that anyone knows about that bit. of course, after one night of many mistakes, the whole world knows.

series masterlist

THE MEETING WAS NOT SUCCESSFUL. AT ALL. Or at least, that’s how it seemed in Y/N’s eyes. Seeing as the only thing that had come out of it was… spending more time with Bakugou. Which was the opposite of what she wanted to do at the moment seeing as she despised him. Y/N actually had a feeling that any further interactions with Bakugou would only end in more chaos. So, Y/N decided she would set to work, as she would any other day.

Ignore the problem until it goes away, right?

Slipping on her hero costume feels like a chore, pulling the gloves of her suit on with a grimace. They only served as a reminder of her inability to fully control her ability— though Y/N was known as someone with some of the most impressive quirk control. There was always that underlying feeling, of course that feeling never belonged to her. It had always been hard, shutting out the emotions of others, Y/N had found that those who feel the most strongly were the ones she would avoid.

Clearly she had failed.

Regardless, those emotions tended to be distracting as she went about her day. Y/N had learnt to ignore them, to block them out for periods of time, but in a career like hers it was unavoidable. The pain, the rage, the panic, the pure feeling of fear. It could get overwhelming and that often put her at a disadvantage. Emotions were viewed as a weakness, and oftentimes allowing your emotions to get the best of you resulted in unnecessary deaths. But allowing the emotions of others to do so?

It got even worse when she actually activated her quirk to its fullest extent. With a single touch, she could utilize the abilities of a person— all their abilities. When it came to quirks, if you controlled your quirk well, so could she. Otherwise, she would adapt the skills of a person, their intelligence, their athleticism, even their hobbies. Y/N could even the fact that she’d made it through UA to this ability. After all, she’d never been athletic, but her classmates had been.

But her setback had always been a pain, especially in battle, Y/N felt the pain of whoever’s quirk she mimicked. If they were shot, Y/N felt it as if she had been shot as well. She’d never experienced someone dying on her. Nor did she want to. But Y/N was capable of holding as many quirks and capabilities as she could handle— and pain added up very quickly.

It had been worse when she was younger, but Y/N had grown during her time at UA, and now she was capable of ignoring the emotions of others to an extent, and her pain tolerance had grown exponentially.

Y/N was grateful for her success, for the agency she’d been working at. She was not grateful for the looks she got on the way there, Y/N could feel the whispers of those who watched her enter as they walked past. Though she could only hope her own staff had more respect for her.

Her lips pressed together into a tight lipped smile as she entered, and Y/N found herself bracing for whatever could greet her. And to her delight, it appeared that everything was normal. Save for Lorelai’s presence by the entrance, her phone in hand. As though she had known Y/N had entered, the girl in question looks up from her phone before Y/N even has the chance to speak.

“We need to go over our plan, Y/N.”

In response, Y/N waves her off, continuing down the corridor. She smiles to those who greet her, mumbling back to them as Lorelai follows her. “Actually, I need to plan my first patrol of the morning.” She says, looking back to her friend momentarily.

“Then I’ll plan. And my plan includes a real nice fake dating scheme, kinda like those movies.”

Almost instantly Y/N turns around, glaring at Lorelai— who simply offers her a smile in response, clearly pleased with herself as she begins to move alongside Y/N rather than behind her. Y/N had no doubt that they would plan a fake dating scheme if it came down to it, unless she got involved that is. “So?”

“Well, the fake dating scheme was an actual option but you clearly don't like that.” Lorelai mumbles out in response, now holding a tablet as she guides them into a room. “Aside from that, basic press events together,” Lorelai looks up from her tablet pointedly, “where you actually look like you’re enjoying yourself, should amend the situation easily enough.”

Y/N raised a brow, taking a step around the long meeting table where those who worked at Hawk’s agency would soon congregate for their weekly assignments, “a little too easy if you ask me.” She looks to Lorelai, “Bakugou agreed to this?”

“I’m sure his PR team will convince him.” Came her response, shrugging as she took a seat on the table and crossed her legs. “We can do a public statement but there’s no real reason for making this a bigger thing than it already is. It would only end badly.”

With a frown, Y/N’s eyes drift back towards the window. They’re still on the first floor so it’s not like she’s seeing much, but it’s almost astonishing, how there are people just… going about their days without a single fear in the world. All Might’s downfall had eradicated the mindset but on days like these it felt as though not a single thing had changed. As though there weren’t still dozens of underground organizations planning horrid things, and there weren’t hero agencies like her own devising ways to stop them.

Hero Society was a fragile, and corrupt thing.

Y/N had watched as they threw children into every battle, she remembered when she’d been forced to do such things herself. She had watched her comrades, her friends, nearly die for a cause they were too young to comprehend. And she watched as civilians criticized them for not doing enough. Why did her publicity even matter? Shouldn’t that be the least of her concerns? Y/N found it funny that she needed to do well in polls to do her job well. It was the only real way to guarantee access to certain information that low ranked heroes didn’t get.

With a sigh,Y/N turns back, brows furrowed, “so when does this start?”

Placing the tablet beside her on the table, Lorelai rests her palms against it and leans back against them, “next week probably. Haru still needs to work out the details with the rest of the PR team and Bakugou.”

A small laugh escapes Y/N as she mumbles out, “it takes a whole team to keep that man from ruining himself.”

“Most Pro Heroes have a PR team, Y/N. You’re one of few exceptions.” Lorelai corrects, looking to her. It was true, Y/N was aware that more popular heroes often had teams of people coordinating their social media, schedules, public outings, and more.

Y/N tilts her head at Lorelai, “why is that?”

Lorelai raises a brow at her friend’s words, “what, you want to get rid of me?”

Y/N laughs once more, shaking her head, “no… it’s just—” She turns to face her friend, “when I hired you I couldn’t really afford anyone else. Now I can. But you do all the work by yourself.” Biting her lip, Y/N asks, “why is that? I could get you an assistant or something, easily.”

“Well you aren’t exactly the most problematic,” Lorelai responds, offering her a small smile.

Nodding, Y/N pulls out a chair at the head of the table, taking a seat, “but you also have plenty of other clients—”

The door opens, drawing their attention to the person who stands there, one of many heroes who worked at the agency., Pro Hero Telen, a simple hero name with an equally simple quirk. But his ability had saved them numerous times in battle. He pauses as he enters, “is it— is it not time for the briefing? Have I interrupted something? I apologize I can—”

He moves to shut the door but Lorelai simply hops off the table, collecting her tablet as she heads to the door and rests a hand on his shoulder, “don’t worry— we’re done here, right Y/N?” Y/N simply nods, and Lorelai offers her a smile, “be careful today.” She mumbles out, before turning back to Telen. Y/N doesn’t know what she says, but he pales and nods before entering. Shortly after, everyone else seems to file inside, and Y/N finds herself sighing as she spins around in her chair as she waits.

It would be a long day. A very, very, long day.

BAKUGOU WAS TIRED. He really was. Working at Endeavor’s Agency meant long hours, endless paperwork, constant cases. And right now he was assigned to the current big thing; the Stain copycat that had yet to be caught. Unfortunately, this guy didn’t seem to be an amateur like the rest. Of course, whoever it was, they’d primarily been attacking minor Pro Heroes, until recently.

Slowly working their way up the food chain of heroes until they ended up coming across someone who was relevant. It was inevitable, at one point whoever it was, they’d bite more than they can chew. Trying to take on a hero that surpassed their skills, whatever those skills may be— or they would slip up. Leaving behind some sort of evidence that would result in their capture.

The only issue was, there was no telling where or when this would be. How many would have to die before they were caught? Bakugou didn’t necessarily want to know, and it was his job to make sure no one ever knew how many.

A job he was failing. Alongside Deku, who had also been assigned to the case, it was a curious partnership but he had no choice to make it work. And his publicist had insisted that any presence with a hero like him would be good publicity. After all, most of the public knew about their little rivalry so it would make him seem diplomatic in a way. But Deku was…

“So… the gala, huh.”

Well, he was Deku.

“Shut up.”

Thankfully, they hadn’t run into any reporters, though he was sure someone had caught pictures of them on duty together. Which was bound to end either ridiculously well for him, or incredibly poorly. It was always hit or miss with the press and Bakugou despised the entire aspect of the job. It was the one thing he could admit he was bad at. He wasn’t the most approachable, meaning it was rare for reporters to approach him in the first place due to his renowned temper.

The pair was making their way through the streets of the city, patrol was normal but they were currently on their way to the police station. They were supposed to be collaborating with the police to handle this copycat, and for some reason Deku was… panicked. It was subtle but the guy had been practically sweating bullets since Endeavor told them they’d need to work with the police.

If Bakugou was honest this whole job was busy work. Why else would Endeavor’s agency be working on it? The Number One hero had to have better things to do. Maybe this was a punishment for what happened on the last mission they went on.

Bakugou frowns at the thought, electing to push those thoughts to the back of his mind as they come to stand in front of the Police Station. He finds himself bringing a hand to rub his temple. It was definitely going to be a long day. And he hadn’t even spoken to Haru about how the meeting with Lorelai went yet. Not that he wanted to know at this point, Bakugou had a feeling he wouldn’t be satisfied with any solution they proposed.

He really didn’t feel like dealing with any of this. So, Bakugou finds himself thinking that it might be time to use all those vacation days he’d been holding onto since he’d started working with Endeavor. They were piling up after all.

With a huff, he and Deku make their way up the steps up the police station, and Bakugou pushes the door open. It’s busy inside, as expected. A bustling atmosphere that reeks of blood, sweat, and tears, literally. There are some people seated, likely waiting to be processed, they’re handcuffed and Bakugou is fairly sure he recognizes one of them. Not that he has the time to dwell on it as they move through the police station.

One of the officers makes their way towards them, “you’re the heroes Endeavor’s agency sent?” He asks, looking to Deku, brow raised. “Welcome back.”

Bakugou looks at Izuku incredulously as they begin to follow the man through the mess of a building, “the hell is that supposed to mean?” He hisses, but Izuku’s face has already flushed as he covers it with his hands, shaking his head.

“It was one time, how do all of you know about it!” Izuku cried out, and Bakugou finds himself glaring at his partner for the day, even without context.

The officer simply laughs, waving him off as they make their way into a room. There stands the police chief, Kenji Tsuragamae, and a few others seated at some of the many seats in the room, in front of white board that seems to be more of a mess than those around them. They look tired, exhausted even.

Tsuragamae seems to notice their presence, clapping to garner the attention of the few inside the room, “everyone, please welcome the Pro Heroes from Endeavor’s agency. They’ll be assisting us with this case moving forwards.”

The officers seem rather unimpressed, and since Izuku still seems rather embarrassed for some reason, Bakugou finds himself stepping forwards, “what’s going on?”

With a sigh, he goes to answer. But he doesn’t get the chance as an explosion sounds and the building shakes. A siren goes off above them and suddenly the sprinklers began shooting out water as a woman entered, “sir! There’s been an explosion.”

Bakugou fights the urge to say, no shit, as he and Izuku exchange looks, “is it an attack?”

��On the police? That’s bold.” The officer from earlier comments as they all rise from their seats. But the fear in the room is abundantly evident as they all await her response, anticipation amongst them all. Because who would do such a thing, and so strategically placed on the day

The woman only shakes her head, and this time a man appears beside her, based on the way he’s dressed— Bakugou would have to guess he’s a plumber of some sort, but the man simply explains, “we think it’s an issue with the boiler room.”

Bakugou finds himself rolling his eyes, “then why are you still here?” He turns to the rest of the room, “get on with the briefing and get the damn plumber down there.” He grumbles out, before taking a seat once more and redirecting his attention back to the chief, gesturing for him to carry on with his presentation. All the while Izuku is apologizing rather profusely for his attitude.

Now, crime had worsened exponentially after All Might’s downfall. It’s not that other heroes were suddenly less capable, although some were discouraged by the fall of the greatest hero. It’s just that All Might was a symbol. Even years after the fact, Bakugou could still see it. Things had changed. Although in recent times, crime had lessened thanks to the work of today’s Pro Heroes, there were still… issues.

Many had gone the vigilante route as a result of the League of Villains and Stain— and speaking of Stain, there had been several copycats over the years, people who agreed with his ideals and his actions. Which is what brought them here. The issue at hand was this most recent copycat was… decent. Most of the time it was amateurs who didn’t plan that far ahead, quick and easy to catch with minimal casualties, if any.

Essentially, the police had nothing on him. Just a list of his victims and what they had in common. They were underground heroes, like that of his own teacher from UA, but something about them seemed off, different from what they’d seen in other copycats in the past. They weren’t like the flashy heroes you would find, the ones who seemed… fake. The ones most targeted because they fit Stain’s idea of a false hero.

And even then, there was no being sure which were the victims of this copycat and which were that of others. As the anniversary of Stain’s capture grew closer, more attacks were popping up.

Shaking away these thoughts, Bakugou grimaces. All he had gotten from that briefing was that they knew nothing, had done nothing, and were going nowhere. Which wasn’t necessarily encouraging. So far, there were four confirmed victims of the copycat, and three additional deaths that were viewed as possible victims of the copycat. Technically, one of the copycats, but that wasn’t something he necessarily wanted to think about.

Yeah, he would definitely be taking those vacation days.

#this is not the end series #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo x you #bakugou x you #katsuki x you #katsuki bakugo x you #bakugou katsuki x you #katsuki bakugou x you #bakugo katsuki x you #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha x you #mha x you

129 notes · View notes

lilybolane · 5 years ago

Note

I am all ears for your season 3 cap's big gay awakening ideas 👀👀

alright, you asked so sit down and strap in

before we get started- a few details are recycled/repurposed from earlier headcanons/ask answers (characterisation is like that), and i came up with all this a couple weeks back, so any overlap with other peoples suggestions is totally unintentional! i’ve just been finding the energy to properly write them up as originally i riffed them with a friend late at night lmao

the captain: homo evolution

introduction (scroll down if you’re not bothered for the hardcore analysis/logic)

this isn’t necessarily what i think WILL happen as much as how i would do it. over the past two seasons of Ghosts, we’ve seen the captain’s main character arc being centred around him loosening up, from learning to value mike, alison, and the other ghosts more as equals than soldiers/means to an end to the season 2 finale, where cap is not only expressing an interest in flowers and fashion (distinctly un-soldierly pursuits) but joining the party and other men (the direct opposite of About Last Night, in which cap bah humbugs partying/’gay abandon’ and is left speechless by the mere presence of a mostly naked man). that being said, the captain is still the captain: his character is still centred around this need for rules and structure and he still finds his identity in the archetypal WW2 military man- all of his incremental moves towards a more ‘modern’ perspective have ultimately been made possible because, like Ben said on twitter, the captain isn’t CONSCIOUSLY aware that he’s gay. he has the underlying feeling that he’s different, he knows of his tendency to attach himself to specific men and form incredibly close bonds (and, as demonstrated by his attempts to hide them, is at least somewhat aware that that’s not the norm), but in his mind he’s written that off as merely “not being a ladies man”.

the captain is from the 1940s- it’s one thing for him to see and be supportive of a same-gender wedding in present day England where gay=legal unions, marketed doritos, and homophobia being still present but generally frowned upon, and another thing entirely for him to have to apply it to himself. we’ve already seen that the captain appears to be stuck in the past more than any of the other ghosts (”the war is over!” “is it, alison? is it?”- he also references the past more frequently than most of the others), and in his past sodomite gay=punishable by imprisonment and chemical castration, back alley hookups, and the constant threat of blackmail and violence. obviously, despite all this, there was a vibrant underground queer history taking place in England during this time & not all of the above is accurate, but it’s what cap would have seen, and the England of the early 20th century is denoted as being a particularly brutal period for lgbtq+ folks (the destruction of the first world war exacerbated rage and frustration, and lgbtq+ people weren’t the only gorup to end up on the receiving end of that, but i digress). this is basiclly just a really long way of me saying that the captain compartmentalising to that degree was, and to some extent is, a survival mechanism. confronting his homoseuxality means confronting what it means for a 1940s man to be a dreaded homosexual, and all of that directly conflicts with the image of ‘the Captain’ he’s built in his mind.

we’ve seen this in Redding Weddy, where the captain is aware that Havers means/meant more to him than was normal for a captain/2ic relationship (he does attempts to hide his affection- “i shall miss you, Havers. by which of course i mean we shall miss you “he left me, i mean he left for the front”), but is never able to fully verbalise WHY, and it only takes a series of increasingly dramatic prompts before he will even mention the idea of Havers, let alone begin to articulate their relationship.

all this just goes to prove that for the captain to properly ‘come out’, there needs to be an external inciting incident- he could easily have gone on shadowing attractive men whenever they visit and avoiding interrogating those feelings for another seventy years if Button house remained without alison and mike.

while at least julian, pat, and robin have noticed that the cap is not the most heteroseual of men (they’re the only ghosts who have visibly reacted when cap says gay shit), they all appear to have decided to just not mention it, which makes alison and mike our wildcards. not only has alison’s ability to see and communicate with the ghosts already connected them more to the modern world than they ever have been, alison, and mike by extension, has a personal stake in the wellbeing/general growth of the ghosts. happy ghosts=happy house, and like it or not some of them are even beginning to become friends. [i probably didn’t need to write all this like explaining my decisions, but i think figuring out the motivations behind everyon just develops the flavour and lets us have a sexy and accurate headcanon]

so,

the episode

while the captain might not consciously know he’s a fruit (derogatory), he is well and truly terrible at concealing the thirst (it’s not his fault things just keep slipping out!)- i love the idea of just having a supercut near the beginning of the episode that just shows that the captain has gotten even GAYER since last season, with slip ups becoming almost a daily occurence, but it’s getting to the point where it’s actually becoming a serious hazard. last week, he was supposed to be looking out for alison while attempted to put up blinds, but one of mike’s friends (who was over ‘helping out’, which mostly meant eating chips and covering himself in paint) walked through the room with his shirt off and paint handprints on the seat of his shorts, distracting the captain from realising that alison’s stepladder was about to give way.

with the increased presence of non elderly men in the house (the previous owner wasn’t exactly the life of the party) the captain is getting gayer and gayer, but he’s also becoming more and more defensive, while his brisk demeanour and need for control regresses to much more of a season 1 state (a subconscious attempt to regain control as things get close to spilling over). it’s not the first time his repression has almost slipped, he spent much of his life surrounded by soldiers after all, but with no war and no corporeal body he’s got almost nothing to distract himself from it. needless to say, between the safety hazards and the almost agressive defensiveness which derails any interaction, something needs to be done about the captain.

throughout the week, alison tries to find the opportune time to talk to the captain about what’s going on with him for everyone’s sake, but cap keeps masterfully evading any ‘deep’ talk with willful misunderstanding or just straight up dismissal (which at times gets a bit rude), and alison really doesn’t have the time- her and mike are caught up with managing the first official room redecoration and butting heads with a passive agressive delivery driver. insert general shenangigans, but at some point the captain’s whole “accidentally sabotage something by being distracted and then attack anyone who dares even look at him the wrong way afterwards” act causes alison to exasperatedly blurt out “we all know you’re gay! we get it! you like men! you can drop the act!”. there’s no malice or anything but, as we know, when alison gets run ragged things don’t tend to come out quite right.

everything falls silent (and mike is vaguely confused), and the captain just looks like a deer in headlights. as alison catches her breath, pat pipes up with a “it’s alright, cap, we don’t mind- now we can focus on the task at hand”. the captain sort of regains his composure and once again attempts to brush them all off with a scoff and a “i haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about. if any of us is distracted, i-it’s... kitty!” but it’s easy to tell he looks rattled. most of his words don’t come out right, and after trying to blame kitty for their failures (she just had the unfortunate luck of being in his line of sight), he ends up doing an awkward little walk away which quickly turns into a full on sprint. mike, having finished processing alison yelling about gay shit to the air and kind of pieced together what must have happened awkwardly chimes in with “it’s okay to be gay!”- alison just pats him on the back (”yeah no he’s gone, mike.” “gone?” “sprinted away.” “huh”)

the episode continues with the captain flat out avoiding alison and the other ghosts to an almost funny extent as the other plots continue. it takes a bit for alison to realise why the captain reacted so badly (in fact, it’s actually mike who remembers that he’s 1940s ghost- “he’s probably just scared and taking it out on everyone else”). while thomas and julian vote for leaving the captain be so they can have some peace and quiet, fanny/pat/alison/robin decide someone needs to talk to him (fanny surprised everyone but after all, she got murdered because her husband had to live in secrecy- if talking to the captain will avert any further crises, she’s happy to make sure someone else does it for her). kitty’s still upset about being singled out, but she knows better than anyone that sometimes all you need is a friend- cue realisation no. 2.

with the captain avoiding everyone, sending in a regular emissary isn’t going to work. they need to find the least threatening person possible, with no agenda or history other than being there to help (a friend, if you will)- cue everyone looking at mike.

a quick offscreen briefing later, we see mike wandering out to the field where the captain has exiled himself- remember that up until this point, the captain was still in conscious denial about his sexuality, so being forced to confront it head on (and finding out that apparently everyone ‘knew’, which for cap would feel like an intimate invasion of privacy/forced vulnerability) would rattle him to the point of self-exile- he might not be able to run from his sexuality, but he can run from people. the thing is, mike can’t see or hear the ghosts, which means the captain can’t be frightened off by any expectations (mike actually talks to/at cap while facing completely the wrong direction, but consdiering the above point, this works rather well).

the captain was alternating between pacing, fiddling with his swagger stick, and sitting, but he unconsciously stands to attention as mike wanders over. he’s used to mike not being able to see them, so mike asking to sit down takes him by surprise, disrupting his instinct to flee again.

mike begins a little awkwardly (”mind if i sit?” *silence* “...i’m just gonna assume that’s a no. or is it a yes? yeah anyways i’m just gonna sit. so... heard you’ve been going through a rough patch”), and the captain almost scoffs and wanders off, but something about the clumsy earnestness in mike’s voice, the captain’s vulnerable state, and the fact that it’s been so long since cap has had anyone actually check in on him, that he stays put. he keeps standing and staring away from button house, and mike keeps speaking to the empty air to his left, and alison and the ghosts stay hidden behind their bush a few metres away, but at least the captain is listening. for the first time in weeks, he’s not on the offensive.

“i can’t actually see or hear you, so i’m just gonna talk and assume you’re listening. alison mentioned you have a habit of running away but, um, maybe don’t do that please?”

“my mate daniel's gay. uh, homosexual, you’d probably say- did you have gay when you were alive? did it just mean happy? anyway, he didn’t come out- that means tell people- until he left high school. we all kind of guessed it, the other kids at school gave him a real tough time for it, but he just squashed it down. couldn’t imagine that all the things people were shouting at him were true, so he ignored it. he’s doing good now though. got married to his husband last year, currently runs a bookshop. so that’s nice.”

it goes quiet for a bit. the captain hasn’t moved, and we’re still only seeing shots of him from the back, but there’s a little less tension in his stance than there was before. mike clears his throat before continuing.

“i’m guessing you’re probably pretty scared right now. i would be- i mean not that you should be, you shouldn’t, but coming from your... situation, i’m guessing it’d be hard. no one’s saying you have to be anything you’re not ready to be, but lots of things that are scary are actually not bad. airplanes, skydiving, clowns- well, not the clown from that movie, but he gives clowns a bad rep- i’m sure there are plenty of lovely clowns out in the world. still give me the creeps though.” the captain makes a captain-y noise of assent about the clown comment- he never liked them either.

mike glances over to the bush where alison and the ghosts were attempting to listen in (they could only catch every few words- mary got particularly concerned about why mike had referenced clowns), and the captain still hasn’t run away, so alison motions for mike to keep going. he starts telling the captain a story from his uni days. it’s got nothing to do with the captain, or being gay, or self-acceptance, or anything like that- it’s just a standard tale of comedic but inventive problem solving. the captain sits himself down next to mike (to his right, avoiding mike’s gaze, and still staring away from button house), muttering that his legs are getting a bit tired. he sits there for a while, and mike just talks. sometimes he circles back to the gay thing, sometimes he just asks the captain questions, before remembering that he can’t actually hear any answer, but then he keeps asking anyway, thinking that cap might need to talk. he doesn’t at first, but slowly he offers up a word or two. and then a sentence, and then maybe more- mike will accidentally cut the captain off, or leave the silence to long, but the captain doesn’t mind (it’s a nice reminder that nothing he says will actually go on to have consequence). at one point, mike gets out his phone to show the captain photos of his mate daniel and daniel's husband, not just their wedding day but casual photos- couples drinks with him and alison, dinners at each other's places, the bookshop.

alison and the other ghosts have long gone, and the sun is just about to sink below the horizon by the time the captain stands himself back up with the traditional knee crack and grunt. he looks at mike and nods, giving him a simple thank you before turning to walk (not run) back to button house, head held slightly higher and looking more relaxed than he’s been all episode. the captain has still got a lot to figure out, but at least it’s a start.

[i love the dramatic ending but the implication is that alison has to go and fetch mike bc he has no ideas cap has left and is prepared to keep going lol- also by no means is cap suddenly going to ditch his characterisation and become a yas kween gay right away, i didn’t go into the aftermath bc this is alreayd fucking LONG but let me know if you want follow up????}

EDIT: i've rbed this with the follow up/part 2 attached!

EDIT 2, much later: switched out mike's reference to his 'younger brother' to a school friend, since the christmas special confirmed mike only has sisters and we're all about accuracy here

#bbc ghosts #ghosts bbc #the captain #ben willbond #bbc ghosts captain #bbc ghosts headcanon #ghosts headcanon #lgbt #lgbtq #gay #mlm

232 notes · View notes

pizzazz-party · 4 years ago

Text

Part 2: Ring’s Powers—And What They All Have In Common

Easily the most mystifying thing about this game is— how on earth the magical sentient Pilates ring can do what he does. Seriously. Except, there is some underlying logic here. Buckle up, guys, we’re doing pseudo-science.

(Spoilers for up to the end of the main storyline. Various outfit spoilers beyond that.)

So. I’m just going to say it? The foundation of Ring’s powers essentially boils down to “energy manipulation.” That was probably an easy conclusion to reach if you’ve read Part 1. We’ve already basically established that much. So today we’re diving into the three main categories of how Ring manipulates energy.

They are:

Amplification. Using energy to amplify the strength of a physical motion.

Construction. Using energy to build new structures.

Conversion. Altering the state of the energy itself. Either by converting it to another type of energy, or by converting it into matter (and vice versa).

All of Ring’s various powers and abilities fall under at least one of these categories. Most belong to more than one.

You’re going to want to peek at this little Venn Diagram I’ve made. And possibly make friends with it, because it’s going to keep coming back at the end of every segment. We’re going to go over Ring’s lesser abilities first, then his five special powers, and finally his sealing ability.

And before we start! Some quick reminders, in case you need them.

“Life energy” exists in all things everywhere.

“Exercise energy” is a type of life energy, and we see its presence most often in the form of Trainee’s signature flames.

The type of exercise energy Trainee produces is now pure and inhuman—because she’s synced with Ring.

Pure energy exists on a scale from “positive” to “negative.” Ring is partially made of pure positive energy. It’s the glowing stuff that flows through his tube.

There’s a fundamental difference between the “red,” “yellow,” “blue,” and “green” energies that get used in fit battles by other humans and humanoids, and the “pure positive” stuff that Ring and Trainee exhibit. (Seriously if you’ve never read Part 1 before, I strongly suggest you do so now.)

———

Alright! Ring’s wild list of “lesser” powers include:

Acting as a heart beat monitor

Crushing boulders into pebbles

Creating air blasts

Creating suction vortexes

Creating and wielding fit battle constructs

Creating ab guards

Creating non-battle constructs (Or whatever you would call “Quick! Turn into a tree!”)

Creating a sync bond

Creating solid constructs in Game Gyms

With exactly three exceptions, all of the abilities on this list involve some degree of amplification. So let’s walk through this.

HEART MONITOR. Amplification. The simplest to explain. When Ring is measuring your heart beat, he’s just amping the sound or vibration, sort of like a stethoscope.

BOULDER CRUSHING. Construction + Amplification. When you press Ring into your stomach to crush a boulder, he (1) loops a construct around said boulder and then he (2) amplifies the crushing motion of said construct, using raw exercise energy from the force of your press.

Air blasts and vortexes are a bit trickier to explain, but you have to remember that Ring is actively choosing what to amplify and what to ignore.

AIR BLASTS. Amplification. In the case of air blasts—when you squeeze the Ring Con, you’re also technically squeezing air molecules out of the center of the Pilates ring as you distort the shape. In-game, Ring is just picking a direction (away from your avatar’s face, very helpful) and amplifying the force of that squeeze into a harsh blast of air.

SUCTION VORTEX. Amplification. The vortex operates on a similar, but opposite premise. When you pull on your Ring Con, you’re actually still just pushing air molecules out, same as when you squeeze. But when you release it and the Pilates ring springs back into its original shape, the air molecules go rushing back, as though sucked in. In-game, Ring is once again just picking a direction to amplify the force of that suction.

FIT BATTLE CONSTRUCTS. Amplification + Construction + Conversion. Alright, this one is a bit more complicated. But have you ever noticed that no matter how how poorly you are at holding squats—as long as you hold that squat, Ring’s construct will buff up to completion. It’s, for the lack of a better word, the “quality” of the exercise energy going into it, that determines how hard the construct can swing—and how much damage it can really do. The better the “quality” that Ring has to work with, the more he can amplify the strength of his constructs.

Construction here is pretty self-explanatory . We’ve already poked at this in Part 1, but Ring is in charge of crafting and swinging your battle constructs, not Trainee. Once you select a fit skill—before you even have Trainee move to perform and hold said fit skill—the appropriate glowing limb constructs are already hovering above your enemies. That’s Ring’s doing. You have to remember that he does, actually, have his own supply of energy separate from Trainee. And this is just one of the ways in which he openly uses it.

Conversion technically only comes into play here after World 2, once Trainee and Ring retrieve the Color Coding power. I mentioned above (and yet again, more thoroughly in Part 1) that the exercise energy Trainee and Ring give off—purified positive exercise energy—fundamentally differs from the red/yellow/blue/green stuff found in human beings. Ring can manipulate light and color on a superficial basis without Color Coding (he once mimicked the purple flames of Dark Influence back in World 1), but it’s a surface level change. Ring’s constructs don’t yield any “extra damage” benefits in a fight until Color Coding is retrieved.

AB GUARDS. Construction + Amplification. Admittedly, this one’s pretty similar. (I mean, I’d argue that Trainee and Ring are both making the construct this time...) But with one key difference! There’s no conversion happening here. At all. Which makes sense, actually. A shield of “red energy” would be especially weak to red attacks. A shield of “green energy” would be especially weak to green attacks. And so on and so forth. Ring’s signature energy, however, doesn’t appear to come with any such caveats. (We never run into another being quite like Ring.)

QUICK TURN INTO A TREE. Construction + Conversion. The tree thing, functions like a fit battle construct, minus the amplification. Trainee holds the pose so that she and Ring can continue hiding in the construct, because slinkbugs are thieves that steal away valuable grocery monies. She’s the power source. Ring’s job is to shape the tree as convincingly as possible. There’s no amplification going on here.

SYNCHRONIZING. Conversion. As far as we know, synchronizing with Ring appears to have somehow overwritten Trainee’s original—human—energy signature, and made her somewhat biologically closer to being like Ring. There’s still a lot we don’t know about syncing, but you can read more about it here in Part 1.

GAME GYM CONSTRUCTS. Construction + Conversion. Up until this point, when it comes to “conversion,” all we’ve talked about is when Ring takes one glowing energy type, and converts it into another glowing energy type. Let’s talk matter.

Fit battle constructs, while still being made of energy, are actually pretty solid. You whack monsters with them all the time, this isn’t news. You don’t have to be a physics expert (and I’m really not) to understand that “energy,” as it exists in Ring Fit Adventure, operates under some pretty loose rules of reality. In this game, Pilates rings can be sentient! Dragons can be bodybuilders! And “energy” can be condensed into a shape hard enough to send your enemies flying—and still be considered “just energy,” not “matter”. Because we’ve seen what it looks like when energy gets turned into physical material, and vice verse. We’ve seen Ring do it loads of times.

Specifically, we see it happen in the mini game gyms.

So there are thirteen types of gyms spread across the world of Ring Fit. Most of them, like Dreadmill, don’t require a person to use any fancy tools to play. But others do. Exactly four require that Ring attach an extra accessory.

We only see Trainee play, but these gyms are canonically popular with the public. It’s implied that the gym supplies participants with the appropriate props instead of, like, making people bring their own parachutes or something. It’s also implied that Trainee refuses a bunch of these props, because she has Ring. And Ring can (temporarily) create his own props.

I say “temporary” because when you finish a game like Aerochute. Or Bank Balance. The two props are converted back into Ring’s signature golden energy, and then they dissipate into sparkles. We never explicitly see Ring making these tools, but we sure as hell see them get expelled.

We never see the other two props from Core Crushing and Smack Back dematerialize. (We also don’t see Trainee victory posing in either game.) But I don’t see why we should rule out that they can’t, if Ring was able to make the first two.

So. Like I said: CONSTRUCTION + CONVERSION = GAME GYM CONSTRUCTS. No amplification here, I doubt Ring would ever knowingly help you cheat.

This concludes Ring’s “lesser” powers.

———

Ring’s five—“special”—powers. You know them. You love them! They are:

Color coding

Smoothiecraft

River Rowing

Jump Boost

And the Wing Ability

Even before digging into what these entail, the special five are…interesting. Outside of Ring, they take the shape of giant, pulsing balls of energy. They’re coveted by nearly everyone who comes into contact with them. Seriously. From Dragaux himself to Honey to the Sportans, to random monsters to Daddalus to Solar Plexia the rain goddess—most of the persons listed here either can’t use Ring’s powers, or don’t even recognize them for what they are. “Treasure,” “shining jewel,” “glowy thing.” These are all things they have been dubbed as by outsiders.

Except, they’re not supposed to be removable. This is not a feature of Ring’s. We know thanks to Allegra (and Titanium White, bless her soul) that metaphysical traits can be ripped out of a person. This is more or less what Dragaux did to Ring. But unlike with what happened to Titanium White, it seems like Dragaux ripped out an extra glob of Ring’s energy reserves with each power. Those little “badges” in the menu screen aren’t just visual representations of your retrieval progress; they physically exist in the game. Ring shows one to Solar Plexia in World 8.

Once Ring’s reunited with one of his powers, it could be that he reabsorbs the excess energy, and all that’s left behind is the little “badge” that’s been sitting in its center—and that’s the thing that actually lets him wield whatever power he’s reacquired.

———

COLOR CODING. Conversion. Taking pure energy, and converting it for fit battles benefits. We covered this one.

SMOOTHIECRAFT. Conversion. Actually, the weirdest one on this list. I’ve gone over this video as slowly as my phone will allow. And to the best of what I’m seeing, Ring is taking these ingredients, converting them into a bubble of light, and then squeezing them back out as a physical paste. You can watch a video of it happening here.

The fact that it’s a chilled paste and not a fine liquid, speaks to some level of intent and control. Fire is what happens when atoms are moving very, very fast. Ice occurs when eligible molecules are moving very, very slowly. Cold is an absence of heat, and heat is just another form of energy.

RIVER ROWING. Conversion + Construction. For the longest time, I thought this “power” was Ring just storing a boat and some oars in his pocket dimension. But that’s not the whole picture.

The one time we “see” Ring summon something—as in we are 100% sure that he isn’t creating the object in question—is when he’s summoning ingredients for a smoothie. And the process looks very different. Please refer to the appropriate screenshots below the video. But to spell it out: there are two consistent traits that appear, when Ring is summoning something from his “pocket dimension.” There is:

Always some circle of light present. The item emerges from the “pocket” as energy, so Ring is converting it back into matter as he takes it out. If whatever’s getting converted normally exists as a physical object (and not just as a “temporary” one) then there’s some kind of circle present somewhere.

Always some level of detail to whatever is getting taken out of the “pocket,” even before the item appears to “solidify” into normal.

You can see River Rowing in action at its activation and deactivation. Unfortunately the position of the camera prevents us from seeing a clear image of the boat as it appears. But its massive light show does include a conversion circle—or a ��portal,” if you will, as Trainee walks under the arch. (The camera also prevents us from seeing the boat get sent away.)

We do see the oars, though. As sturdy as they look, they each start out as a shape made of pure energy, with no extra detailing before they “solidify.” So again, conversion and construction are at work here.

JUMP BOOST. Amplification. Works the same way as an air blast. I…don’t actually see a reason as to why Ring can’t already do this? So long as the both of them are fast and strong enough, they should be able double-jump. I don’t like it, but I’m willing to chalk this one up to gameplay mechanics. Jump Boost only exists so you can skip over enemies anyway.

WING ABILITY. Conversion + Amplification. If the boat in River Rowing is an object being converted into and out of Ring’s pocket dimension—then so are the wings. I’m certain of it. There’s a circle of light as Trainee runs under the arch, same as with River Rowing. And if you watch closely here, you can see that each wings appears with distinct, detailed trimming straight from the get-go. Maybe more importantly, you can see each wing actually emerging from a portal of light. These portals come back again as Ring banishes the wings back into his pocket. The wings visibly sink into the portals, and then disappear.

This ability also falls under amplification. It looks like Trainee’s energy also gets fed into the trimmings, and that could increase the force of the flaps. It might be that the two of them wouldn’t be able to cut into the air as well without that boost.

This concludes Ring’s “special” powers.

———

And last but not least: sealing.

Ah, sealing. One of the first powers we ever see on screen. We witness it in action only once, way back in the beginning of the game. So our knowledge of how it works is limited. Something we also know very little about? Ring’s sneaky little “pocket dimension” trick. Unlike sealing, Ring doesn’t even acknowledge this as a power worth talking about. But as it turns out, if you’re working under the assumption that these two are related, it starts filling in some blanks.

Sealing, as we’re shown in the initial cutscene, has done something weird to Ring’s colors. His metal is the same as ever, but the energy that flows through his veins? It cycles through a faint rainbow as it flashes from light yellow to light purple. Dark Influence purple.

“Pocket dimension” implies Ring is somehow connected to a space physically separate from him and further separate from our reality. But if the objects Ring pulls from his “pocket” emerge as energy, that need to be converted back into matter. What if it’s closer than we thought. What if—everything that Ring stores away for you, from every boat or shirt or—heaven forbid—bodybuilding dragon…

What if it all.

Goes into.

His tube.

Life energy exists in everything, everywhere. And Ring is apparently a master at manipulating it into his donut stream. If a tomato, a living thing, can be converted twice and still come out of his “pocket” in one piece—then why not Dragaux? Maybe even especially Dragaux. He appears to convert himself back into the flesh once he’s out.

As for the physical seal that Trainee breaks…As best as I can figure, that thing is a lock being held into place by Ring’s sheer might and concentration. The way Ring talks about it, sealing sounds less like a one-time thing and more like this one, long, continuous effort in suppressing Dragaux. Because despite all restrictions, Dragaux never stopped training, never stopped straining, against his new prison. That seal was on its least legs, even before Trainee ruined Ring’s concentration.

———

STORAGE. Conversion. Physical matter gets temporarily converted into energy, and then tucked away into the tube containing Ring’s personal reservoir of life energy. Safely reversible. Objects can be converted/stored/released remotely, far away from Ring’s center.

SEALING. Conversion + Construction. Storage with a locked gate. The lock needs constant focus and effort to maintain. The physical seal bears a spiral symbol—the very same we see flashing white across the screen before every fit battle—and possibly doubles as a warning sign for danger, please don’t touch.

———

And that’s it. That’s all of them.

This thing is so dense, you genuinely deserve a pat on the back for making it to the end. Unless, you skipped around looking for the last Venn diagram? Which. In that case, here it is! As promised, the complete picture.

TL;DR:

Maybe some of these alignments leave room for argument, but I think the categories themselves stand up pretty well.

I hope reading this only gave you half the headache that writing it gave me! It was fun…when I wasn’t muttering curses against Ring under my breath. The formatting was a pain, but I think I handled it okay.

DISCLAIMER: I take this video game way too seriously. This is all for fun! I feel pretty strongly about my conclusions, but I’ll go back and edit this if/when/where applicable. Thanks for reading.

———

Ring Analysis

Part 1: Synchronizing—How It Works and What It Tells Us About Ring

Part 2: Ring’s Powers—And What They All Have In Common

Part 3: Ring’s Biology and Possible Origins

#ring fit adventure #ring #pizzazz meta #pizzazz post #ring fit trainee #ring fit trainer #ring fit adventure spoilers

27 notes · View notes

wherethingscomebackx · 5 years ago

Text

Top 25 Larry fics of 2019

It’s that time again!

You may be familiar with these lists:

Top 25 Larry fics of 2016

Top 25 Larry fics of 2017

Top 25 Larry fics of 2018

As always, I read a lot of fic and the majority of it is Larry. I like making lists and I like Larry so I thought I’d do some minimal research of the top 25 larry fics published/completed in 2019 in order of least to most kudos (with links). All of these fics are top notch so you should all check them out!

25.) Foolishy Laying Our Hearts on the Table by @runaway-train-works (11k)

“You think Harry wants that?”

“Dunno. Maybe. Wanna make him happy.” Harry takes advantage of the red light he’s pulled up to turn and look properly at Louis’ face. He’s not even looking in Harry’s direction though, focused instead on something out of his side window, head drooped, mindlessly playing with the string of his hoodie between his fingers, lost in his own world somewhere. For some reason, it makes Harry’s spine straighten.

“Because he’s your best mate?” Harry questions carefully.

“He’s my boyfriend.”

He couldn’t have heard him right. “What?”

Louis releases a deep breath, still not turning around. Harry wonders who he thinks he’s talking to right now. “He’s so pretty. Want to kiss him all day long. And buy him a big house and give him presents and marry him.”

The one where Harry is in love with his best friend Louis but doesn't think he stands a chance until some wisdom teeth and a rather unusual confession might just change his mind.

24.) Tainted Saints And Velvet Vices by @toomanydreamers (126k)

A self-fulfilling Hogwarts AU in which Louis is new to seventh year and Harry is the resident devil-may-care Slytherin set to make his entire experience a living misery. Due to less than favourable circumstances they're forced to forge an unwilling, tentative relationship for their own survival. Repressed emotions, decidedly unromantic ballroom dancing, Triwizard Tournament tasks, creative jinxes and twilight flying above the Forbidden Forest ensue.

23.) all we can do is keep breathing by @avocadolouie (310k)

“Harry, I-I’m so sorry…” Louis stutters out, trying to keep his voice level and even, to portray a depiction of strength, but with the way Harry is looking at him, staring at him like he has a personal passage way straight to Louis’ soul, it’s so hard, nearly impossible.

That simple opening phrase, that short introductory acknowledgement that is often rushed out so easily, painlessly, at a safe distance. Giving a doctor the ability to portray empathy without true emotion, without feeling the full brunt and sheer force of the underlying pain itself.

But Louis feels it, he feels the crushing agony laced behind the phrase, he feels the weight of the painful words slipping from his lips, the cause and effect that the three-word expression holds. The distantly empty “I’m so sorry” that doctors throw out in self-preservation, isn’t at all empty for him. Louis recognizes it, he understands it, he feels it.

a fated story of two broken and battered boys who barely survived the unimaginable and how the love of one little brave girl defies all the odds and somehow puts them back together.

22.) Raise a Glass to the Four of Us by @2tiedships2 (25k)

Louis stared at his luggage.

Well. Apparently not his luggage, because the clothing he was looking at currently was a: worth more than everything he currently possessed, b: not his size at all, and c: more suited for a fancy ass lawyer than a holiday in NYC with his best mates.

“Ooh, nice loafers,” Niall said as he pulled one out of the suitcase. “I love the rainbows.”

“Okay,” Liam began. “What do you want to do first? Eat, shop for new clothes, or spend hours on the phone with the airline?”

Louis continued to stare at the luggage.

21.) You Have to Retreat to Advance by @2tiedships2 (18k)

“What am I going to do, Perrie? I can’t go on this retreat by myself. My boss literally said he wants to meet my omega.” Harry paused. “Okay, not literally but he definitely expects me to be bringing him.”

“Don’t people go on these things by themselves?” Perrie asked.

Harry shrugged. “Of course but that’s not the point.”

“What’s the point?”

“My boss is expecting to meet my omega! I don’t have an omega!”

“Is this a paying gig?” Perrie asked.

“You mean paying an omega to spend the weekend with me? I’m sure the resort has nice amenities. Does that count?”

“I take that as a no,” Perrie said with an eye roll. “It’s okay, Louis might be willing to do it for free.”

“Who’s Louis?”

Or the one where Harry is expected to bring his longterm omega to the company's mountain retreat. Since he hadn't told anyone that they'd broken up months ago, he now has to find someone willing to play the part.

20.) A Darker Shade of Love by LittleSpoonStyles94 (750k)

Louis is a 30 year old multi-billionaire with a very dark past. He is violent and is a sadist with a taste for pain. Harry Styles is a 19 year old student who sets out to London after being kicked out by his homophobic father to follow his dreams. He wants to go to the best University to study but he needs a lot of money so he starts to work as a part time stripper at a gay club to support his studies and his life. The club he works at, Garland's, is part owned by Louis Tomlinson. When they meet, its life changing for the both of them.

19.) You Still Make Sense to Me by @amories (37k)

Harry, Louis, and their family navigate life together through the years.

18.) Like Water Over Fire (Like Water On Fire) by @mcssymon (119k)

“I’m sorry your highness, I think I misheard you, did you really say that you are hoping to meet your husband?” Oh god, Louis panicked. Was Prince Harry gay? Was he even allowed to be gay? Surely he wouldn’t be allowed to have a selection from a group of men, right?

Prince Harry looked partly like he wanted to laugh, but also very, very nervous about what he had just admitted, “Yes, sir, you heard correctly”

Or Prince Harry has 46 men and 13 weeks to find the husband of his dreams, Louis has a limited amount to time to live out a royal fantasy. They might just be exactly what the other needs.

17.) waiting for the tides to meet by @nauticalleeds (59k)

Louis lets out a deep breath, thinking about Harry’s soulmate. Thinking about how Harry’s soulmate is probably as beautiful as Harry, some person that Louis cannot compare to, and how the universe has chosen them to be Harry’s. Fuck the universe. “Fuck you,” he calls out to the universe. He’s aware of how crazy he sounds.

Maybe he is crazy, with how he’s falling for Harry. And fuck that, too.

Soulmate AU. Everyone is born with heterochromia — one eye is their own eye colour, while the other is the colour of their soulmate's. It's only when they meet their soulmate for the first time that their own eyes match properly. After a hazy night at a frat party, Louis wakes up to blue eyes and the shocking realization that he had met his soulmate, without any sober recollection. Seven years pass where Louis comes to terms with the fact that he'll never know who his soulmate is. Then one fated summer, a beautiful green-eyed photographer arrives at Louis' workplace, with promises of endless laughter and a familiar feeling in Louis' heart.

Featuring a lovely cup of OT5, a road trip down the coast, and a scene where Harry eats a whole head of lettuce. Don't ask why.

16.) Call Answered by @vondrostes (249k)

The day after his 27th birthday, Harry Styles attempts suicide. Louis is flown to his bedside to unravel the mystery of why he did it after a flash drive is found with a note attached, addressed to Louis. On it are a collection of 78 songs, all written for different dates from their past.

15.) Counterbalance by @louandhazaf (44k)

Harry Styles loves two things: teaching ballet and racing motorcycles. Those two worlds collide when his greatest rival on the track, Louis “Tommo” Tomlinson brings his tiny siblings to Harry’s class.

14.) Everywhere and Nowhere by @2tiedships2 (16k)

Niall took a seat and said, "Apparently Louis' downstairs neighbor is a fan of giving Louis creepy gifts. Maybe I should go introduce myself and tell him that Louis actually prefers food."

"What has he given you?" Liam asked.

Louis shrugged as it were no big deal. "There was a rabbit's foot keychain on the door a little after he left from introducing himself and there was a small teddy bear sitting by my door tonight. Obviously I can't prove it's from him, but they seem to have his scent. I could be wrong though."

"Wow," Liam said, looking deep in thought. "That's old school."

"What's old school?" Niall asked. "Giving creepy gifts?"

"I've never known an alpha to do it, to be honest, but he's courting you."

Louis couldn't contain his look of disbelief directed at Liam. "He's courting me. Like some sort of romantic shit they'd do in the 1800s or something?"

13.) Swallow The Knife by whoknows (76k)

“You came,” Louis says, still breathless, clinging to Harry, uncaring that his sweat is getting all over Harry’s presumably clean dad shirt, or that he’s making Harry hold up all of his weight.

“Of course I came,” Harry says. He shifts, one arm curled underneath Louis’ arse, the other spreading wide in the middle of Louis’ back. “If I ignored you every time you pissed me off we would have stopped being friends a long time ago.”

Louis already knows that, of course. It doesn’t do anything to stop the pleased squirm in his belly every time Harry proves it, though. They fight like nobody’s business, both of them too stubborn to pull their punches when they’re arguing, and it used to get them in trouble, but they always make up.

Adrenaline makes Louis loose-lipped, and they both know it. He tightens his arms around Harry’s neck, buries his face in his hair. “I missed you,” he confesses, quiet. “Doesn’t feel the same up there by myself.”

12.) and oh, all of your saturdays could end up in woe by ihavetoomuchfreetime (70k)

a fic in which louis' in a long-term relationship with an abusive asshole, niall, zayn and liam are so far but not really, and harry is that all too friendly guy who works in sainsbury's.

11.) thinking about the t-shirt you slept in by @absoloutenonsense (52k)

Harry's alpha fraternity donates to a local thrift shop (because of Liam's latent crush on a cute beta in his lecture). Louis' financial situation (and confusing omega instincts) lead him to make some interesting fashion purchases. Lots of pizza, feelings, and not-really-lying.

10.) Consequences by @allwaswell16 (78k)

Two years ago Harry let his powerful family come between him and the love of his life, something he deeply regrets. Louis has tried to move on from their devastating break up. Sometimes, he even thinks he has. It only takes one moment to freeze them back in time.

An amnesia au

9.) Strawberries & Cigarettes by @dimpled-halo (76k)

Harry looks up and immediately freezes. Next to Ms. Archie stands the boy from just the other day. The boy with the leather jacket and chipped black nails, that might or might not be sketched in the very book Harry has just placed on the table in front of him. The leather jacket is missing today, probably because they aren’t allowed as part of their required uniform attire, but Harry can still see the fading black nail polish on his nails, and eyeliner around his eyes. Harry’s mouth goes a little dry. This boy is so intriguing to him.

“Ye-yes, Ms. Archie?” Harry tries to play it cool, but he’s almost positive that his cheeks are burning red, and he’s relieved neither of them can tell how fast his heart is beating in his chest.

The boy seems to also recognize Harry, because his lips curve into a knowing smirk.

“Harry is at the top of his class. He’s your best bet at getting familiar with things around here.” She explains.

Louis nods, his smirk still very prominent on his face. “Thank you Ms. Archie. I’ll be sure to take advantage of young Harold here.”

Summary: Two stories, eleven years, and the two boys that never stopped loving each other.

8.) Pain makes people change by Deidei (113k)

An organization called Canis Lupus existed solely for changing humans imprisoned in their wolf form back to their human form. Some people after experiencing some traumatic event can only ‘’protect’’ themselves from the pain by forgetting everything. To do that, to feel safe, they shift into their wolf form.

Which they'll be stuck in forever should no one intervene.

Louis Tomlison went through a traumatic experience at the age of twelve in which he lost his mother, to make the pain go away he shifted into a wolf and fled. He survived in the wild as a wolf for five years until Canis Lupis caught him... Though he wasn't alone, he had a pup at his side.

7.) Pretty Please (With Sugar On Top) by @angelichl (113k)

Harry is a sugar baby omega who cons rich alphas for a living. Louis is a rich alpha with too much self-control.

6.) Enemies with benefits by ssii8 (267k)

Where Harry is captain of basketball team and Louis is captain of football team and they hate each other. But somehow this doesn't stop them from having sex.

And everything is perfect until they start to feel something more.

5.) Ready To Fall by whoknows (21k)

“Ninety and rising,” Nick says triumphantly, as though making Harry’s heartbeat pick up by thrusting an obscenely attractive person in front of his face is any kind of success. “Louis Tomlinson has just walked into our control room and suddenly our dear Harry Styles has lost all ability to speak. Could this be some kind of strange coincidence?”

“I hate you,” Harry hisses, forcing his eyes back into Nick’s direction, uncaring that the mic must have picked it up. “I thought we agreed that you were going to play fair.”

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Nick denies, except he’s holding up a picture of Louis’ face now, sharp cheekbones prominent, soft lashes nearly sweeping against his cheeks as he looks down, and his fucking mouth –

“A hundred and two!” Nick crows, all but clapping his hands together in glee. “The highest it’s ever been!”

“To be fair, I did bend over the desk on purpose,” Louis’ voice comes crackling in the headphones. Harry practically breaks his neck whipping his head around at the sound of it, gaping at him through the glass panel. “You can’t really blame him for getting a little excited about that, can you?”

4.) Close to Nowhere by @angelichl (34k)

“I will kill you in your sleep,” Louis threatened as he quickly stepped out of his jeans.

“I don’t think that would work very well baby, seeing as you talk to dead people all the time.”

“I’ll kill you in your sleep and ignore your ghost. And don’t call me that.”

Louis and Harry are psychics who kind of hate each other. They go to Tennessee to investigate a haunting.

3.) Play Pretend, Find a Friend? by @angelichl (40k)

They had to pull back for air. Louis surveyed the guy’s face, in awe of his blown pupils and sharp jawline, the way their shared spit glistened on his lips.

“Hi,” he breathed. He blinked, and came back to himself a little bit, blushing at his own boldness. “Sorry. Is this okay?”

The stranger removed his right hand from the curve of Louis’ waist in order to cup his jaw, tilting it up to the angle he desired. He pressed their lips together, murmuring, “Definitely.” And then he kissed harder.

When Louis sees his ex-boyfriend kissing a random girl at a party, he acts out of blind jealousy. He kisses the first guy he can find. It turns into a thing.

INSPIRED BY CLOUDS.

2.) Let Me Feel Your Heartbeat by @angelichl (34k)

Harry is 98% sure Louis hates him. So he feels like his bewilderment is justified when the omega offers to help him through his rut.

1.) All My Colours by IceQueenRia (267k)

Green… yellow… red. Red! RED!!!

Some people were born Dominant and others submissive. Sixteen year old Louis Tomlinson was a submissive and was proud to be so… until he was forced to his knees for the first time. The man before him was every subs nightmare, an abusive Dom, the kind who didn’t believe in the colour ‘red’ unless it was in the form of blood.

There were others, but Louis was the ‘favourite’ and he was the one the Dom liked to ‘play with’ the most. In fact, when the rescue team arrived, Louis was the one currently providing ‘service’ to the Dom.

Louis, Zayn and Niall are abused subs. Liam Payne is their devoted new Guidance Counsellor who just wants to make Niall smile and hear Zayn speak. As for Louis, he knows his guidance won’t be enough to help the boy heal. No, Louis Tomlinson needs something very special and very specific. He needs Harry Styles.

#larry #larry stylinson #harry styles #louis tomlinson #fic rec #larry fic rec #one direction #1d #one direction fan fiction #larry fan fiction #larry is real #larry fic #dom/sub fic #alpha/beta/omega verse #1d fan fiction

608 notes · View notes

demonbanisher · 4 years ago

Text

My second entry for @goodboylupin’s Candy Hearts fest! Thanks to the amazing @kattlupin for being such a wonderful beta!

This started out as a short little story and quickly devolved into a 6000 word fic but I had so much writing it!

DM Me

Remus sits, lounging on the couch in a bit of a Superbowl daze. He doesn’t like football. In fact, his understanding of it is limited to the flag football unit in gym class years ago, but he is always happy for any excuse for drinks, good food and even better company. In fact, he doesn’t even really know who’s playing, all he knows is that one of the team’s has a racially insensitive name and he has taken to calling the other team ‘the blue ones.’

It’s coming up to the end of the second quarter and the racially insensitive team is in the lead by a landslide. The game is interrupted by what seems to be yet another commercial break. Remus smiles as he listens to Lily and Frank bicker over the latest play and tugs his phone out of his pocket to scroll through Twitter. There are lots of people discussing the game and others who are just waiting for the halftime show to come on. Among these Remus finds a tweet from one of his favourite musicians:

Washington has this in the bag 💪🏼 💪🏼 Might as well give it up now Patriots 🤷♂️

Remus snorts, appreciating the overzealous confidence that could only come from someone with the ability to play on stage in front of millions of people and somehow make you feel like he was playing just for you. He quickly types up a reply and hits send without thinking much about it.

Confident much @padfoot09? When the Patriots win, you better go on a date with me.

He tosses his phone to the side and is surprised to hear it buzz a moment later. He reads the notification off his lock screen.

Game on @moonymoon

Keep Reading on AO3

Or below the cut

Remus smiles, basking in the specific drug of being recognized by someone famous online. He knows Sirius Black is likely just a regular person like anyone else. But to Remus he’s an amazing musician and an even better lyricist, and to the rest of the world he’s the most eligible bachelor and biggest heartthrob. Remus can’t help but feel a little special to be recognized by him even if it is just for some stupid joke.

Remus cracks open another cider and settles in for the rest of the game. Although, he is starting to learn his friend’s reactions are the best part. It’s entertaining to watch them yell at the screen as if the players can actually hear them or like they know any better than the decisions that the coaches are making.

The rest of the game passes by in a bit of blur. The halftime show went off without a hitch, although Remus guessed some of the underlying political messaging would be all over the news for the next few days because damn it if someone in a position of privilege uses their voice to speak out about human rights concerns. As for the rest of the game, Remus was delightfully surprised to watch the blue ones make a wonderful comeback to beat the racially insensitive team. It made for an interesting game at least. No one really knew who was going to win until those last few seconds on the clock counted down.

As the team runs the field to celebrate and Frank and Lily break out into another argument of who the better team is, Remus slips off to the bathroom. Shaking his head at his friend's antics as he smiles quietly to himself. When he comes back, everyone’s sitting in their positions on the couch. Remus guesses that Alice has managed to reel Frank back in but Lily still looks like she’s ready for another round.

“Your phone’s been going off the whole time you’ve been gone Mr. Popular,” Lily tells him, not taking her eyes off the screen.

Remus goes to pick up his phone, confused, and a little worried as to who might be messaging him, only to find out that his Twitter had practically exploded.

“Oh my god,” he murmurs as he opens the app.

“What?” Lily asks.

Remus shakes his head and holds it out to her so she can read the message herself. It’s from Sirius Black:

@moonymoons DM me 😉

“Oh my god,” Lily repeats.

“What?” Frank asks, all previous rivalry forgotten in the desire to not be left out from something.

“Remus’ got a date with Sirius Black.”

“The singer?” Alice asks wide eyed. “How??”

Remus nods his head slowly in disbelief.

“Bet him on Twitter that the Patriots would win. Here,” Lily says, thrusting Remus’ phone back into his hands. “You have to message him!”

“Alright,” Remus says. “But he probably won’t follow through with it anyways. Besides, he doesn’t live near here and it was a stupid bet.”

Remus opens up his messages and tries to think of something witty to say before finally landing on:

- Told you they’d win

He watches the three dots appear that tell him that Sirius is typing. When the message finally comes in he has to blink twice to make sure he isn’t imagining it.

- So? Where do you want to go on our date?

“Holy shit,” Remus says. “He wants to go through with it.”

Lily, Frank, and Alice quickly crowd around him so that they can read over his shoulder.

“What are you going to tell him?” Alice asks.

“I don’t know!” Remus exclaims. “What do you tell a Grammy award winning multi-millionaire when he asks you where you want to go on your date?”

“Here,” Lily says, snatching the phone from him. They all watch nervously as her fingers fly over the keyboard before she hands it back to Remus. Frank and Alice lean in quickly in order to read over his shoulder.

“What are your thoughts on pancakes?” Remus reads aloud. “Really Lils?! That was the best you could come up with?”

“Shh,” she says as she swats him in the arm, “he’s typing.”

They all watch the screen in silent anticipation until a soft whoop announces the arrival of another message.

- Love them. Where did you have in mind?

“Is now a good time to tell him I don’t live in LA?”

“Probably,” Lily says.

Remus casts a despairing look at Frank and Alice who simply shrug at him sympathetically.

- There’s a diner near here that’s my favourite. But I don’t live anywhere near LA

Remus debates about adding ‘and I don’t have the money to get there either’ but decides against it.

- Where are you?

Remus sends back the name of his small town and braces himself for Sirius to tell him that it’s too much, and this was all over.

- Just googled it. I’ll be in New York in a few weeks for a concert. Maybe I can get you tickets and then we can do pancakes in the morning?

“How far away is New York?” Remus asks Alice, knowing she’d made a trip out there last fall to see a new musical she was excited about.

“I think it took us sixteen hours, but we did get stuck in traffic.”

“Is Sirius Black really going to drive sixteen hours with me to have pancakes for breakfast?”

“Sounds like it, mate,” Frank says and he looks just as astonished as Remus feels. His phone buzzes with another message from Sirius:

- You in?

Remus looks at his friends hoping they know what the right answer is to the question. In some way, he hopes one of them will remember some pressing engagement he has to attend so he can get out of this crazy idea. But they all just look at him with hopeful glances and shrugs. He sighs and turns back to his phone.

- I’m in. Send me the date and time.

Two weeks later, Remus finds himself pacing the entryway of his hotel room waiting for the car that Sirius was sending for him. A car. A private car. He has pinched himself too many times trying to prove that this was real. He checks his phone for the millionth time, not sure what he’s expecting as Sirius is probably deep in pre-concert preparations.

He glances down at his outfit that Frank, Alice, and Lily had helped him pick out. He plays with the threads on the tight black skinny jeans, as he looks over the worn Ramones crop top that Alice had lent him, topped off with his button covered jean jacket that Lily had convinced him was cool and not old looking at all. They’d painted his nails black and silver and given him some pretty killer eyeliner, which had somehow managed to survive the crazy combination of transportation he’d opted for over the sixteen hour drive. First the car ride to the airport, then the short flight in a too small plane, and finally the subway trip to the very fancy hotel Sirius had insisted he pay for, and not a smudge in sight. Still, he’s nervous. He’s sure that Sirius will see him and call this whole thing off.

Everything about the last two weeks has felt surreal. Sirius and him have been messaging back and forth on Twitter to sort out the details until one morning Sirius had asked for his phone number, saying it would be easier to communicate that way, and he felt he could trust Remus to not give it out to people. Lily had practically had to give him the heimlich maneuver to stop him from choking on his frosted flakes.

Honestly, Remus was more than happy to get off Twitter. He’d been bombarded by superfans after the news went public that Sirius was taking him on a date. Some people wanted to let him know how lucky he was. Others were a bit more aggressive in their opinions on Remus going on a date with who they considered to be their man.

More than anything, Remus was surprised to discover how much they had in common. How quickly their conversations had gravitated from necessary details to their favourite morning cartoons and sweatpant brands. Remus has always felt that Sirius Black has a window to his soul. He just hadn’t realized how big that window truly was.

His phone buzzes in his hand and he answers the unknown number to discover that Sirius’ driver is waiting outside. After triple checking his pockets and locking the door, Remus makes his way downstairs and into the waiting black car. The seats are leather and a bottle of champagne sits on ice in front of him. There’s a note tied to it that says ‘See you soon, Moony’ and Remus would be lying if he didn’t admit that it sends his heart aflutter. He tries to reel himself in and remind himself that this will be one incredible, amazing night but it isn’t going to be some grand rom-com where they ended up together forever.

“Everything to your liking, Mr. Lupin?” The driver asks.

“Yes, excellent, thank you,” Remus says, blushing at the formality. He’s just some poor kid who had worked his ass off to get through college. He never thought he’d get to experience this level of decadence.

When they arrive at the venue, Remus finds himself ushered into the backstage door and passed off into the hands of a very exhausted looking manager who introduces herself as Marlene. She sets him up with a backstage pass, tells him where he can and can’t go, and leaves him in a room full of more food and drinks that Remus would probably buy in two months worth of groceries, with the instruction that someone would come and find him before the concert begins.

Remus munches on some chocolate covered strawberries and cracks a can of alcoholic cider open as he tries to settle his nerves in preparation for the concert. It feels like he’s in that room for hours. He sends messages to their friend group chat, updating them on what’s going on, and laughing when Lily warns him to watch out for Sirius trying to lure him into any cults. Apparently, that’s the wild theory the tabloids have come up with this week.

He also receives a picture from Sirius. He’s wearing a black button down, which is completely undone to reveal his tattoos, and he has heavy eyeliner on and is sticking his tongue out with his hand in a punk rock sign. He’s captioned it, ‘See you soon!’ Remus is pretty sure he’s died and gone to heaven.

Eventually, another stagehand comes to grab him and take him up to the side of the stage so he can watch the show. Remus chats with some of the other people loitering around but falls silent when the lights finally dim. The crowd roars as a signal spotlight comes on and then into the light strides Sirius and his guitar.

He’s breathtaking, standing in the centre of the stage like it’s where he belongs and from the first strum of his guitar, he has the audience eating out of the palm of his hand. Remus dances and screams the lyrics to every song. He tries not to faint when in the midst of one of his numbers, Sirius turns and gives him a little wink.

Remus has always loved live music. He’s seen countless underground shows and up and comers in bars whenever he could. But he’s never been to a concert like this before. He’d wanted to but by the time you added up the cost of the ticket, travel, food, and accommodations, it was more than he could bear. But being here now, he realizes this is a whole different beast. A part of him misses the quiet intimacy of those smaller shows, but he can’t help feeling the powerful pull of the electricity that runs through the crowd. There’s something so haunting and surreal in the way that Sirius can stop singing at any point and the audience can carry on from where he left off without missing a beat. It’s beautiful to feel connected to a group of familiar strangers. To know that everyone in this theatre had been touched by the beauty of Sirius’ music somehow, that they felt that same powerful pull that Remus had when he’d heard his voice over the radio for the first time, that they had known that somehow this had been created just for them. They are here as a collective but there’s something so personal about their own experiences.

“How are you all doing out there?” Sirius asks and the crowd roars in response.

“Excellent, excellent. I think we’re going to slow it down a bit for this next one,” Sirius says. And Remus closes his eyes as he hears Sirius’ guitarist pluck out the opening notes to his favourite ballad. When he opens them again, Sirius is standing right in front of him. He beams at him as he mouths a silent “hi” before grabbing his hand. He tilts his head to ask if this is okay as he hands his guitar off to a roadie. Remus nods and finds himself being dragged out onto the stage with him. He lets go of Remus centre stage and turns to face him, there’s so little room between them that Remus could lick the microphone in Sirius’ hand if he wanted to.

You’ve been howling in your sleep Werewolf dreams coming over me I’ve been counting sheep Think I need a hundred more to set me free

Sirius reaches a hand out to place it on Remus’ waist as he croons in his beautiful lilting voice. His grey eyes search Remus’ for an answer and he nods allowing Sirius to rest his strong hand on his hip.

Muddy footprints in the dark Darling, I swear you’ve collared my heart I’ve got butterflies But can you see the darkness in my eyes?

Sirius leans his forehead against Remus’ as the guitar builds up to the chorus. The crowd is losing their mind but Remus can’t hear them. His world has narrowed down to this one point of touch. To the feeling of Sirius’ warm skin pressed against his. The moment seems to last forever before he’s pulling away to sing again.

It’s a full moon baby Demons crawling over me But then I see your star lit eyes Darling, I swear you were sent to set me free Set me free

Remus loses himself in the rest of the song. Even though he knew he could sing the words from heart with headphones on blasting the Sesame Street theme. But he slips away from all of that in the feel of the sensuous way that Sirius is moving against him, in his warm breath against his cheek, in the way his eyes never seem to leave Remus’ body if even for a moment.

But as always, the song must come to an end and the final roar of the crowd breaks the spell and Remus finds himself blushing madly with the realization that tens of thousands of people were witness to this private moment between the two of them. Sirius smiles at him and gives his hand another squeeze before Remus is flanked again by roadies. One handing Sirius’ his guitar tuned for the next song. The other coming to guide him backstage again.

Remus spends the rest of the concert love drunk. His eyes don’t leave Sirius for a single moment.

When it’s over, Remus is led back to the same room he was in before. He’s not quite sure what he’s supposed to do next and he’s about to try and find his way back to the hotel when there’s a knock on the door and Sirius Black himself is standing there.

Away from the darkness of the stage and in the harsh fluorescent light, Remus can fully take him in. The dark black hair that is slicked back with sweat. The taunt muscles of his chest that are covered in black ink of various runes and images. The black flowy pants that Remus swears sit a little too low on his hips.

“Hi,” he says with a smile.

“Hi,” Remus says trying to gain his composure and hoping that Sirius doesn’t notice him staring.

“Hope you didn’t mind me dragging you on stage. I did promise you a date after all,” he walks by Remus to the table of food and pops a grape in his mouth, curling his lips around it in a way that should be illegal.

“No, of course not,” Remus says, mentally bashing himself for sounding like an idiot. “Moonlight is my favourite song. I mean of yours… well that’s a lie. It’s my favourite song in general. I think Spotify said I listened to it over four hundred times last year. Oh my god, I need to shut up,” Remus buries his head in his hand as Sirius laughs and of course, the sound is as beautiful as his singing voice.

“I’m flattered,” Sirius says. He considers Remus for a moment and opens his mouth to say something else before he’s interrupted by someone yelling his name from the hallway. “Shit, my manager,” he says. He drops the rest of the grape vine back on the plate and starts to head to the door. “Still good for pancakes tomorrow morning?”

“Yeah, but you do know how long of a drive it is right? Might be night before we get there.”

“Who said anything about driving?”

And with those cryptic words and one last smile, he slips out of the door and away into the night.

Remus goes for a simpler outfit the next morning. Jeans and one of his better sweaters. A loose knit maroon one that is one of the last sweaters he has where the neck isn’t stretched. He packs up his things from the hotel and waits for the knock on his door.

When he answers, he’s surprised to see how different Sirius looks. Last night’s makeup is all washed off, and his hair is tied back in a messy bun. Instead of a bold stylish outfit he’s usually known for he wears loose jeans, an old t-shirt, and a leather jacket. A pair of aviator sunglasses sit perched atop his head.

“Ready?” He says with a smile.

“Of course,” Remus says and goes to grab his bags until Sirius tells him someone else can get them for him. It’s odd to him, this life of being able to count on other people for things. It also feels wrong in some way to have them do what he could so easily handle on his own but he decides to let it go for once.

He and Sirius weave their way through the lobby, his security detail staying close at hand until they are safely in the black car from the night before. Sirius seems to heave a sigh of relief as the door is closed and the jeers of fans are locked out from outside.

“What time do you think we’ll be there?” Remus asks.

“Maybe 11?” Sirius says. “Why?”

“No reason,” Remus tells him but pulls out his phone to send a quick message.

They stay relatively quiet for the rest of the car ride until they arrive at another tall, dark, building. Remus is confused. He had figured that if they weren’t driving they’d be heading back through the small convoluted method he’d taken to get here. Sirius leads him to the elevator and Remus feels a quick flash of fear as he wonders if Lily’s cult theory is true. But then the door bings and Sirius guides him out of the elevator and onto the roof where a black helicopter sits waiting for them.

“You’re shitting me,” Remus says and gets to hear Sirius’ wonderful laugh again.

“Nope, you don’t have a fear of flying do you?”

Remus shakes his head.

“Good,” Sirius says and surprises him by climbing into the pilot’s seat.

“You fly?”

“Not as well as I sing.”

Remus’ face pales and Sirius is quick to assure him he’s just kidding.

He pulls down his sunglasses and settles a headset over his ears before reaching over to help Remus put his on. Sirius’ hands brush gently against Remus’ cheek and he finds himself blushing for the umpteenth time.

Flying in a helicopter is so much different from being in a plane. It’s loud for one thing, but Remus quickly gets used to using the headsets to communicate with Sirius. Being in a helicopter also means they are that much closer to the ground and Remus watches as they get closer and closer to his hometown. From up here, the farmer’s fields separating the suburban sprawl looks almost beautiful. It makes him hate the tiny village that has kept him trapped a little less.

Sirius has to bring the helicopter down about an hour out of the village, since that’s the nearest available helipad. From there it's back into another car and then to the restaurant.

Before they get out at the diner, Remus catches Sirius steeling himself again, he feels grateful that he thought to send the text message ahead of time as they climb out of the car and up to the front doors.

Sirius goes to open the door for him but Remus shakes his head, stepping ahead of him to knock gently. Sirius looks at him confused but Remus doesn't say anything until Dorcas is opening the door for them.

“Hey Dor,” Remus says smiling as she steps aside to let them in. “Thanks again for doing this I promise I’ll pay you back.”

She waves her hand in dismissal. “Don’t worry about it.”

Sirius seems surprised that she doesn’t seem to stare or look at him in that awe inspired way people stare at celebrities. Dorcas slips back into the kitchen and Remus guides him over to his favourite booth with a view of the river. He feels slightly self-conscious of the worn floors and duct tape vinyl but has an odd feeling this will be a welcome change for Sirius.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Remus says as he sits down across from him and gestures absent-mindedly at the obvious absence of other guests. “I thought it might be nice for you to not be interrupted by fans for a change.”

He watches as Sirius’ face lights up with understanding. “Thanks, you didn’t have to do that.”

“I honestly don’t know how you’d stand it. All that attention all the time.”

Sirius smiles at him softly, “I don’t know. You did pretty good with it last night.”

Remus blushes and looks back down at the table.

“But, yeah, it can be exhausting sometimes. People don’t look at you like you’re a human being you know? They treat you like some kind of God or something.”

Remus feels a small tinge of guilt, remembering how awe-struck he’d been when he’d been messaging Sirius on Superbowl Sunday.

“So,” Remus says, changing the subject, “you don’t have any allergies do you?”

Sirius shakes his head.

“Good. I’ve asked Dorcas to bring us some banana pancakes, plus waffles and her famous fried chicken. I know we agreed on pancakes but it would be sinful for you to come all the way out here and not get to try it.”

Sirius smiles, “Sounds delicious.”

“Believe me it is.”

Dorcas kicks open the door to the kitchen. “Y’all want something to drink?”

Remus looks at Sirius, “Root beer float?” He nods. “Two,” he tells Dorcas who nods and then slips back into the kitchen.

“So Patriots fan?” Sirius asks as Dorcas sets the floats down in front of them.

“Actually, I don’t know anything about football. I just thought you were being cocky,” he teases as he takes a sip from his straw. “What about you? Washington? Can’t say I’m a fan of the name.”

Sirius flinches, “Yeah, I feel bad for supporting the team. I mean it’s kinda sad that we still have sports teams with that name in our day and age. I just try and call them Washington. I know it doesn’t fix everything but…”

“You do what you can?”

Sirius nods. “No point in having a platform if you don’t use it.”

Remus smiles, thinking of the pictures online of Sirius holding up various pride flags that fans have handed him on stage. He’s gotten himself in hot water more than once for calling out other artists and stars for inappropriate, racist, ableist, and sexist behaviour. If Remus was honest, it only made him like his music more.

“What about you?” Sirius says, “Tell me all about the infamous Remus Lupin.”

“Not much to tell.”

“Where do you work?”

“I’m a curriculum developer for a school board.”

“I like it,” Sirius says, curling his lips around the straw the same way he did with the grape last night. “Taking the system down from the inside.”

“Trying. Nothing like having a stage of millions at your disposal.”

Sirius' smile falters and Remus immediately regrets saying it. “Doesn’t matter much when you don’t know if half of them are listening to what you’re saying or just staring at your body.”

“Well, if it helps at least one fan is,” Remus says, trying to regain control of the conversation.

Sirius smiles but Remus can tell it’s half-hearted. He’s rescued by Dorcas arriving with steaming plates of food that she puts down on the table in front of them.

“Oh my god,” Sirius says. “My trainer is gonna hate me for this.”

Remus laughs but thinks about how difficult it must be to have every element of your life prescribed and controlled. To be put under a harsh spotlight and scrutinized every second of every day.

Remus pours syrup on the pancakes and Sirius is quick to cut into the stack and stuff an ungodly amount of food into his mouth at once. Sirius lets out a moan that would have made Remus self-conscious if there had been anyone else around.

“Not gonna lie. I thought pancakes were a creative but weird date idea but honestly these are worth it.”

“Guess you’ll have to make bets with strangers on Twitter more often.”

“That means I’d have to go on dates with other people instead of you,” Sirius teases reaching for a piece of a chicken.

And Remus hates how he can do that to him. How with a few words he can have him melting into a puddle. He tries to act normal as he layers chicken and waffle together before taking a bite.

“Very funny,” Remus says.

“Why do you do that?” Sirius asks.

“Do what?”

“Make yourself smaller when other people come in the room. You did it last night too in the dressing room and this morning on our way out to the car.”

“I don’t know, I guess I just think I’m not worth drawing attention to. Might as well leave the spotlight for someone else.”

“But you didn’t do it on stage yesterday,” Sirius says as he pops another piece of chicken in his mouth, pausing to lick the grease off his fingers. Honestly, Remus swears he could make picking up dog poop look sexy.

“Your music makes me feel like I’m worth something,” Remus says without thinking. “Sorry, that’s weird.”

“No,” Sirius says, laying a hand on top of Remus’. “It’s not. I like that you’re honest with me. Some people I don’t know if they really listen to what I’m saying. But you, last night, I could tell you were really hearing me. That you were there with me in the moment. You play the same songs a million times you start to forget what that feels like.”

“Well,” Remus says realizing that this may be the only chance he gets to tell Sirius how much his music has meant to him, “it makes me feel invincible. It makes me believe that there’s beautiful things in pain. That I’m not alone in this world. That even through darkness I can find love. That even through darkness I can find myself again.”

Sirius stares at him, the same way he was looking at him in the dressing room last night before they got interrupted.

“What?” Remus asks, worried he has food on his face.

“Nothing,” Sirius says. “It’s just you show your face to the world. You might try to hide it but last night I just couldn’t shake the feeling that I was really seeing who you were and you were seeing me too.”

Remus' jaw hangs slightly ajar. He doesn’t quite know what to say to such a monumental statement, to such a declaration.

The double doors to the kitchen open and Dorcas walks out to see if they need anything. Remus can’t decide if he’s happy or mad for her interruption. Sirius tells her how amazing the food is and she beams in response before slipping away again. Remus doesn’t say anything but he knows the diner is struggling. An endorsement from Sirius would put her back on the map. Hell, it might put this whole town back on the map.

Sirius is quiet for a moment after Dorcas’ disappears. He seems embarrassed about what he said earlier.

“Mind if we take a picture for Instagram? My PR agent thinks this will be good press.”

“Of course not,” Remus says, trying not to feel deflated at the change in conversation. But when Sirius pulls out his phone to take a picture of the two of them, he doesn’t take his hand off Remus’. In fact, he keeps it there for the rest of the meal.

They spend the rest of their time talking about their lives. Remus learns Sirius started playing music as an escape from his family who he doesn’t have the best relationship with. He tries hard to keep it all from going public to protect his little brother who still lives at home. Sirius learns that Remus was attacked by a rabid dog as a kid and kept doing his schoolwork in his bed at home because he couldn’t bear to fall a grade behind the other kids, despite the fact that most of them didn’t like him much.

They talk about everything. Remus talks about his friends and Sirius talks about life on the road. They share embarrassing childhood memories and awful drunken mistakes. They laugh and smile with each other and before either of them knows it the food is gone and it's getting much too late. Remus promised Dorcas she’d have the restaurant back for the dinner rush and Sirius has to be getting back to New York for a late-night talk show he’s supposed to be on.

Sirius gives Dorcas a hug and promises to plug her restaurant every chance he gets as long as she guarantees there will always be a table for him whenever he’s in town. He leaves her a very generous tip as a thank you for shutting the restaurant down for him. Remus’ could swear he sees Dorcas whisper something to Sirius that makes him smile but he can’t say for sure. She gives Remus a hug too and he reminds her to drop by for game night this weekend.

They step back outside into the warm glow of the late afternoon and both of them pause on the front steps, unsure of what to say or where to go from here.

They both go to speak at once and then pull back blushing as they both try and tell the other to go first. After some laughter, Remus finally convinces Sirius to go ahead.

“Thank you for seeing me,” Sirius says. “I haven’t felt this way in a really long time. It feels good to just be a person again for a little while.”

“And thank you for giving me my thirty seconds of fame,” Remus says. “For showing me that I deserve to be in the spotlight sometimes.”

Sirius blushes as he looks down at his feet and Remus’ stomach backflips with the idea that he can make him feel this nervous.

“Can I kiss you?” Sirius asks and suddenly his nerves become contagious.

Remus nods and Sirius steps forward to meet him. He places his hand on his hip just as he did last night, and he leans in slowly. The kiss is soft and sweet and full of meaning. If Remus were a songwriter, he could write a million ballads about this moment. About the way that it feels like Sirius was trying to translate everything he ever wanted to tell Remus’ into the movement of his lips.

When they part they’re both a little flushed and smiling, Sirius slips his aviators on as two black cars pull up. One to take Sirius back to his helicopter. The other to take Remus home, back to his ordinary life.

“Goodbye, Remus,” Sirius says as he heads to the first car.

“Bye, Sirius,” Remus tells him and he stands and watches until all that’s left of Sirius is a cloud of dust.

At home, Remus collapses on the couch. He tries to pick up a new policy he needs to read over for work but his mind can’t focus. All he can see is Sirius’ gentle smile. All he can feel is Sirius’ lips on his. All he can hear is the sound of Sirius’ voice as they stood chest to chest.

His phone buzzes beside him and Remus’ is sure it’s Lily looking for more details. He’s had to disable pretty much all his social media apps. That smiling picture of the two of them in the diner has gone viral and Remus is a little too interested to see what crazy stories the tabloids come up with about the identity of Sirius’ mystery date.

When he picks up his phone, however, he’s surprised to see it’s a message from Sirius. He’s in a hotel room somewhere and Remus’ luggage is in the background.

- Someone forgot to get this to the car that took you home. Guess we’ll have to see each other again.

Remus smiles as he types up his response.

- It’s a date

He watches nervously, waiting for Sirius’ reply hoping beyond hope that it wasn’t a simple mix up and Sirius truly does want to see him again. He doesn’t have to wait long before his phone is buzzing again in his hand.

- I can’t wait

That night Remus watches Sirius’ interview on tv, smiling as he alludes questions about his new mystery man with ease and grace. Afterwards, he goes to brush his teeth and get ready for bed when his phone buzzes again.

- Syrupy kisses in dusk’s early light I can’t shake the feeling I’ve known you all my life Dear god, please don’t let this feeling pass me by

He falls asleep that night smiling like an idiot with Moonlight playing on loop in the background.

#RSCandyHearts #wolfstar #WOLFSTAR FLUFF #fanfic #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #remus x sirius

43 notes · View notes

drprettyboyspence · 5 years ago

Text

Memory Lane

Dr. Spencer Reid/reader

Summary: Reader just can't seem to get to sleep one night so she decides to walk around the house she shares with her boyfriend, Spencer Reid. As she travels around the house she remembers significant moments in their relationship.

words: 2.9k

warnings: season 12 spoilers, mentioning of mental illness, nothing else to my knowledge! (just a lot of fluff)

a/n: This is my first Spencer Reid fic and I kinda went off the rails with the word count, let me know if you enjoy it :)

I turn myself over in bed for what feels like the four hundredth time this hour, facing the ceiling now. I can hear the rustling of leaves outside and the distant sirens of the city, remembering how those sounds used to bring me some sort of comfort as a child, now all I can think of is the death and tragedy being an FBI profiler has brought me into contact with, the horrors at the end of the trail of sirens. Mostly noticeably though, I hear the steady breathing of the man lying next to me in the king bed, glancing over at my boyfriend of almost 4 years I smile warmly, his unruly hair draped over the pillow, glad to see him in deep sleep. Recently he hasn’t been sleeping well, suffering from PTSD from his time spent in prison as well as all the trauma the poor man has been through in the last 10 years of his life. I quietly get out of bed, making sure not to bother him, he deserves a good nights sleep and we have to be at the BAU in a depressingly minuscule amount of hours. My feet hit the cold wooden floors and I wonder for the uncountable time “Why did we decide on wooden floors?” A memory of an argument with Spencer answers my question,

“Because silly, don’t you know that carpets can hold up to 200,000 bacteria per square inch, this room is 100 square feet, 144 square inches per square foot, that is 28,800,000 bacteria in our bedroom alone.” I remember shaking my head at him, he’s always been such a germaphobe. In fact, when we first met, he shook my hand, and later when I confided in JJ and Penelope that I had pretty intense feelings for the resident genius of the BAU, they mentioned that he usually hates shaking hands, is known for refusing to shake the hands of many people the team comes into contact with on cases. He shook my hand right away, it’s one of the things I love about him and we always say we knew right away that we had a special connection. I glance at Spencer’s sleeping frame one more time before leaving the bedroom and making my way down the hallway. There are pictures there, pictures of me and Spence, him and his mom, pictures of the team at work, Spencer won’t admit it often, but he wakes up every morning scared that he won’t remember those he loves, his mother’s dementia and schizophrenia have impacted him greatly. I stop in front of a picture of me and Spence, it’s the first picture we ever took together, Halloween almost 5 years ago now, at the FBI Halloween party.

October 2015

“Come on Y/n! How can you not love Halloween!”

“Spencer, what’s so great about Halloween!” I had asked laughing while filling up a plastic cup with punch. The party is fun, but all this dressing up just seems silly to me sometimes.

“It’s a uniquely American holiday! I mean, despite its obvious origins in the Celtic festival of Samhain and the Christian All Saints’ Day, it really is a melting pot of various immigrants’ traditions and beliefs. It became a little more commercialized in the 1950s with trick-or-treat, and today it rivals only Christmas in terms of popularity!” I catch JJ’s eyes from across the room, she gives me a sympathetic look as I’m stuck in another of Reid’s constant statistics rants. Frankly, I don’t understand how the rest of the team can cut Reid off when he’s like this. He’s so genuinely excited by this holiday it makes my budding feelings for the man standing in front of me even stronger.

“Aw you guys look so cute! Say cheese!” the always-hyper voice of Penelope Garcia shouts from across the bullpen, snapping a quick picture of me and Spence before running after Derek. I glance down at my phone and see a text from Penelope “It doesn’t take a profiler to realize how gone you are for him Y/n” I blush profusely before continuing my conversation with Spencer.

Present day

Tearing my eyes away from that specific picture, I continue walking to the end of the hallway, painfully aware that the floorboards are squeaking with my every step, hoping Spencer’s just-finished-a-case level of exhaustion will prevent him from waking up. I pass the threshold into the kitchen and see the dim light of the clock over the stove, the red 2:15 blinking back at me through my tired eyes, I just can’t seem to get to sleep tonight, I’m sure Spencer would say something like

“Chronic insomnia is usually tied to an underlying mental or physical issue. Anxiety, stress, and depression are some of the most common causes of chronic insomnia but even if you do not suffer from chronic insomnia, 35% of Americans report their sleep quality as poor or only fair.” Dating a living encyclopedia definitely has its perks I suppose. I walk towards the fridge and glance at the refrigerator, my eyes traveling to a postcard held up by a doctor who magnet. Houston, Texas the postcard reads.

February 2017

Me and Spencer had been dating for less than 6 months but as we had known each other for over a year I was falling head over heels in love with him. The last few months hadn’t been easy, Spencer learned that his mother had been diagnosed with dementia and not a day had gone by where he didn’t try and find a cure, he had been traveling to Houston,Texas to talk with his mother’s doctor, he then brought her to live with him in Virginia, it had been difficult to say the least. My fingers traced the edges of the postcard I had received in the mail this morning, then flipped it over and saw Spencer’s familiar scraggly handwriting, it read

Dear Y/n,

I was able to speak with my mother’s doctors today, I feel as though there must be more I can be doing, she seems to be responding to the medicines but I am looking into new methods of treating the disease. I miss you so much Y/n, and I miss the rest of the team as well, tell them I will be back as soon as I can, I hate the thought of you putting yourself in danger on cases without me there, not because I doubt your ability to protect yourself, but because I doubt my ability to handle being 1,402 miles away from you. Please do not worry about me, if you’re anxiously awaiting my return, stop looking at the clock because remember, when looking at a clock our brains anticipate what we’ll see faster than we actually see it, so the clock seems to stop, Ill be back before you know it Y/n.

With all my love, Spencer Reid.

I giggle quietly at the added facts, only Spencer would describe the phenomenon of a clock appearing stopped when glanced out. I’m concerned about Spencer though, I’m not sure what is going on, but there is definitely something not right with him and if I didn’t trust him so much I would consider asking Garcia to do a background check to check the legitimacy of his travels to Houston.

Present Day

This postcard is extremely bittersweet, the next week we were all rushing to Mexico, responding to a call that Spencer was in jail, I was a nervous wreck, we all were, it was an extremely rough 6 months, truly showing me how strong the man I love is. I push some of those harsh memories out of my brain, choosing to focus on the happy memories if I ever want to fall asleep tonight. There’s a coffee machine next to the fridge, if there’s one thing Spencer loves more than me, its coffee, or rather coffee flavored sugar with the amount of sweetener he puts in his cup every day. Spencer smells like coffee, almost always, he struggles to sleep most nights and therefore is always hyped up on caffeine. It's actually played a huge role in our relationship.

August 2016

Dr. Spencer Reid and I are walking to the BAU together as we do every single day, we live close to each other, close enough that he walks about 5 minutes before arriving at my house, we then walk to the coffee shop on the way to the train station. We’re best friends, but I’ve been secretly in love with him for months. Walking into Quantico, we get the daily glances from Penelope, Derek, and JJ who are sitting together looking at pictures of Henry. Penelope always teases me that we’re both so in love with each other that everyone can see it but us, it’s ironic actually. As much as I don’t believe Pen, I have been noticing small changes in Spence’s behavior the last couple months, prompting me to, in the deepest corners of my mind, hope that maybe he feels the same way, our friendship is worth too much to risk him not feeling the same way though, so I’m forever stuck. We aren’t on a case right now, so there’s a lot of paperwork to be done, at one point during the day I get up, asking Spence if he wants another cup of coffee before walking to the break room. I return after a brief 5 minutes and am surprised to see Derek sitting in my seat, arguing with Spencer.

“Come on Pretty boy! We both know you’re in love with her! Just ask her out man, she’ll say yes!”

“Morgan, quiet down, she’ll be back any minute, besides I’m 35 and Y/n is 32, I’m not saying there would even be a chance that we would get married but the marriage success rate in the United States is only 50%, the worst it has ever been, that therefore shows the state of relationships in the country as well, I don’t want to ruin our friendship, I could never lose her. Besides, I’ve never been good with women.”

“But that’s the thing pretty boy, you don’t have to be good with women, you’re already good with Y/n, she’s the one who matters, just ask her out man, you’ll regret it if you don’t.” With that Morgan walks away and I take a deep breath, its now or never, walking over to Spencer and setting down the cup, whispering in his ear,

“You never know how good with women you are until you try, Spence” He looks up at me with wide eyes and licks his tongue across his lips, something he does often.

“Um, Y/n, y-you heard all of that?” I nod and I can see Spence take a deep breath just as I did before walking over, “W-would you like to um- go to dinner with me Y/n?”

“Hmm I don’t know…” Spencer’s face starts to fall as I quickly continue “Of course I would love to go to dinner with you silly, what did you think?” His smile lights up the entire room as he pulls me into a deep hug.

“Well finally you two. You couldn’t have waited just a few more months though, I assumed you lovebirds wouldn’t get it together until after Spencer’s birthday” Rossi says from behind us, passing a pretty hefty stack of bills to Penelope.

That was the day that started the greatest adventure of my life.

Present Day

I leave the kitchen and walk to the living room, a chilly breeze blows my hair slightly askew, its June in Virginia, warm enough that all I’m wearing is one of Spence’s oversized MIT shirts with pajama shorts, but the night air causes slight goosebumps on my skin, sending me into my memories once again.

August 2019

Spencer and I are sitting on the couch, participating in yet another Doctor Who marathon on the tv, it's a rare day off from work and the hot summer air fills our living room even with the fan blowing through the house. I lie my head in Spencer’s lap as we watch the tv and his strong hand strokes the back of my neck, causing goosebumps to pop up all over my arms. I giggle and glance up at him causing him to pointedly look at me asking me with his eyes “What is so funny that you dare distract from Doctor Who?”

“It’s just strange, its 95 degrees outside but your hands on my neck give me goosebumps like its a crisp fall day, isn’t that funny baby?”

“Of course the most common cause of goosebumps is cold weather, but when you’re experiencing extreme emotions, the human body responds in a variety of ways. Two common responses include increased electrical activity in the muscles just under the skin and increased depth or heaviness of breathing, resulting in goosebumps.” I roll my eyes at him and playfully swat his hair out of his eyes.

“Only you, Dr. Spencer Reid, would take a romantic statement and turn it into statistics, and I love you for that” he kisses me and well, the Doctor Who marathon was quickly turned off after that.

Present Day

As I turn the corner into the living room I smile warmly, it’s the room that Spencer and I like the best. There are book cases lining the back wall, Spencer loves books, I’d ask him what made his books so special and he’d tell me stories of his childhood, his mom reading him 15th century literature, I loved when Spence told me stories about his childhood.

December 2017

I knocked on the door of Spencer’s apartment, it wasn’t like him to be late for our daily walk to work especially because he had been on probation after his time in jail. I received no answer, prompting my concern as I unlocked the door with the key he had given me. I walked into his living room and saw him, Spencer was sitting in the middle of the floor surrounded by books, running his fingers up and down the pages as he does when he’s reading at his top speed.

“Spence what on earth are you doing! Where did all these books come from? We aren’t on a case are we?”

“This year in the United States alone there have been 328,259 new books published, I read at 20,000 words per minute but at an average of 100,000 words per book, it would take me 27,377 hours to read all those books!”

“Oh Spencer how I love you, you don’t need to read every book ever published, are you going to start reading romance novels?” I tease while picking up a copy of 50 Shades of Gray from the ground at Spencer’s feet.

“Okay maybe you’re right, I just feel like I missed so much time when I was incarcerated, all that reading I could’ve done when I was trapped in that place, it's time I can never get back.”

“Spencer, I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for you, but this is not going to help that feeling go away, let’s go to work.” Spencer nodded and began to tidy up the floor before following me out the door.

“Wait, Y/n, I have to ask you something that I’ve meant to say since I’ve gotten out of jail, and I might as well say it now, will you move in with me?” He’s chewing on his bottom lip again and I jump into his arms in excitement, kissing his hair as he caresses the back of my head.

“Of course I’ll move in with you! I love you, Dr. Spencer Reid.”

“And I love you Y/n Y/l/n.”

Present Day

I’m coming around to the opposite side of the living room now, sitting down on the couch in front of the fireplace. I love the fireplace in our house and I think secretly Spencer does too. We argued for days over the safety of having a fireplace in our house, Spencer of course supplied with enough knowledge of house fires to last him 5 lifetimes, “But Spencer it’ll be so cozy, doesn’t it sound romantic to cuddle up by the fire?” I had pleaded with him the day we toured the house for the first time.

“Y/n, there were an average of 357,400 residential fires per year in the US between 2012 and 2014, an average of 22,300 of those fires were caused by a fireplace or chimney!”

“But Spenceee, that’s only 6.24% of the residential house fires during that period, 43.9% were from cooking equipment, are you going to forbid us from having a kitchen too?” Hey, don’t underestimate how useful a cellphone calculator and a quick google search can be in winning an argument against your genius boyfriend. Obviously, we had ended up agreeing on the fireplace, but Spencer was still overly cautious whenever it was in use. As I stood in front of the fireplace I became hyper aware of the floorboards creaking in the hallway just as they had done when I left the room earlier, I felt a presence enter the room and the 6’1” frame of my boyfriend wrapped his long arms around me from behind while burying his face in the hollow of my shoulder.

“Hi, baby, what are you doing up so late? Are you feeling okay? Can’t seem to get to sleep?” I nod back at him and recline my head so it rests on his strong chest.

“I was just taking a trip down memory lane I suppose” I say before smiling up at the love of my life.

#spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #reader insert

156 notes · View notes

yuvon-writes-letters · 4 years ago

Note

Hey guys :)

Maybe I'm going chronological for one time, so I can sort my thoughts easier.

Yeah, Goldie's much mire active than I would've thought, too. But they did all those things to keep me alive and kind of save, since we still don't know who they are exactly working against. (I mean, we don't know who Goldie exactly is either, but you get my point)

Honestly, I am pretty sure the TSB timeline is continuing, at least if my theory that Goldie just set me back in an alternate timeline is true. In this case I feel sorry for TSB, though..Extremely sorry. He still was 'my' Jake back then, even though he acted weird in the end (maybe was manipulated by entities). I mean, if what he wrote was true he went with authorities. And in the end..this could've been his downfall.

And yeah, maybe I'm not exactly safe, but I just have to go back. If I go, and if I lose my job, I have some things to sort out. And Jake luckily agreed with me that clearing up my desk isn't the worst thing I can do before leaving. We're still thinking about a location, which I could luckily deside myself. Max agreed on that. Even though he still has some doubts. (I mean, of course...His cousin opened the door with bruises all over her face.) He did promise to not ask any questions until I feel ready, though. That gives myself and Jake some time to figure that out.

And also, Jake is right! We have three Jakes and three smart people. YUVON. And of course Goldie, like you said Yu :) And some information about the previous timeline. (And that was it with being chronological)

So yeah, like I said, Max and I'll go. And I also think we can be pretty certain now that the message came from Goldie not the MWAF (which is relieving). I saw the messages and they didn't make Jake the bad guy. I honestly just don't think I can quote them yet. (They're too good, but I probably start daydreaming if I do) But they talk about Jake being an important part of my life and my heart and Max protecting me when he cannot. My dear cousin jumped to conclusions when he saw my bruised face. About Max' phone...I'll probably throw it in a river or something if he brings it with him. I told him not to, also because of Jake (he's not only worried about the MWAF apparently...He didn't exactly say it out loud, but I think it's pretty obvious) but he loves this device.

And I emphasize with you about the being kidnapped thing, you'll manage it, I know it :) And if I need to jump dimensions and box some sense into your Crow-Crew xD

No but for real, you can do that. I know it :)

Jake, find a good point in time to talk to her. But do it :)

Otherwise, I still think the 'underlying desire' theory is a possibility! But, like always in the moment, we could be wrong.

As for my stasis, I really do not wish to talk to more people who think I've been kidnapped. And I am a bit scared that could somehow lead to either them or me being in more danger again. But for now we have to wait.

I for now will pack some important things and paper & pens xD I don't want to leave y'all behind :P

Liska🐾🔥

[A screenshot is glued to the back of the letter and the quick sentence "Jake wants to talk to Jake" is written above]

Hello Jake, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am not quite sure in which way Liska will handle giving you my message, but she promised me to not read it for now.

I don't know whether she told you before or not, but as far as I am concerned she realised I am not only worried about the MWAF chasing her.

With me breaking out of this stasis I am sure that my followers aren't that far behind. And I know you can't do anything from where you are, but cross checking way to protect her doesn't seem to bad to me. Especially since we are similar but still fairly different from each other. At least it seems like that from what I have read.

For my part, I recently improved and updated Nym-OS which allows me access to Liskas whereabouts. If Yuvon should read this, she knows and agrees to it.

Still I am yet stuck on one little detail: I am trying to help Nym-OS in counterattacking. So, even though I am sure you already knoe this yourself, Nym-OS gets the ability to access location of the people attacking Liskas phone. I am almost done with that, so we are able to see a bit easier if and where people are that could be a danger.

Do you have any other ideas for ways I could help? Or even improve what I am doing momentarily. I wouldn't normally ask this since I know and trust my skills, but I think that this is fairly different from a 'normal situation'.

~ Jake

Lis,

Um. I don't know if you've seen the newest person to send in a letter, but we now have an issue.

Jessy, if you're reading this, I was sort of trying to avoid talking about this right away but I'm sort of trapped in a weird place, and Jake's here too because I'm a dumbass. I did not, so you know, let him read your letter or my reply. I figured you wouldn't want that. Sorry for dancing around the issue earlier :/ But at least you can get a good sample of the complete insanity we go through on the regular now!

Yeah... you're getting thrown into the deep end right now, aren't you. Sorry. There's no way to ease into this. You should probably either stop reading these entirely or start reading the letters from the beginning, so this will all at least make some sense. The first letter should start with the words "To whoever reads this," just so you know you get the right one.

Back to you, Lis. Yeah, I feel pretty bad for TSB Jake too. I honestly can't imagine being in his position right now.

Alright. So, you can choose the place. Great! There's way less chance of you being caught that way...

Tragedies just seem to be happening to all us Duskwood detectives, recently, don't they? Rai is chronically overworked and barely has time to sleep, I'm stuck in this hellhole and I've been forgotten by most everyone, you were shot, and poor Matt died and... well.

I never knew him, but I feel really bad for him :(

You could give Max half the truth. Tell him you have a stalker, and he's starting to get physical. Jake has been trying to help you get away from the asshole. It's not even a lie, just... not the full truth. Because. You know. The whole truth is completely fucking insane.

Writing to Jessy just put into perspective how insane everything is, I think. Gimme a sec.

Oh, fuck. My Jessy just texted me. Great timing.

Jeez that whole thing with me leaving myself out was just a joke XD If I knew you and Jake would take it so seriously, I'd never have said anything. I'll steer clear from now on.

Yeah, okay, definitely Goldie. That makes way more sense. I don't think you have to be quite so drastic as destroying the phone. Just get him to leave it at home for the trip.

Ahaha, thanks. I don't think that's necessary, though. Actually, seeing future!Jessy's perspective has caused a bit of a paradigm shift. I think I might need to reconsider what all to tell and not to tell the Crow Crew. I just sort of default to keeping things secret, now, but you've seen how well that worked for me with you and Rai, and with Jake.

Again, you probably should wait for them to contact you first, but you WILL need to talk to them when that happens. What you say to them and what you don't is up to you.

Pack a couple different pens XD We're all a bit long-winded.

That's all from me :)

(The handwriting changes to Jake's.) Hallo, Lis.

Yuvon refuses to tell me what precisely she means about Jessica. Was she somehow contacted by an alternate version of Jessica? If so, how?

I am glad it was Goldie who contacted Max. Yuvon's suggestion for an excuse seems a good one, as there are far less things to remember that way. You simply need to oversimplify everything.

I do not, unfortunately, entirely believe that Yuvon was joking when she made that comment, based on previous comments and her ongoing guilt. I can't understand sometimes why she feels the need to lie so much. It is difficult for me to read people, much less her.

I will speak to her eventually. Early tomorrow, perhaps, if nothing else rears its head. Yuvon looks tired, and I am also admittedly not at my peak. I sincerely hope she does not wake up as early as she does every single day. It may get somewhat taxing, what with the lack of coffee here.

I think that is all from me to you, Lis. If you would kindly find a way to send the next section to my counterpart without looking at it, it would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you :)

—Jake and Yuvon

Jake,

It is a pleasure to meet you as well, despite the unusual circumstances.

That our pursuers may be freed from the stasis is a logical conclusion. Seeing as the last known location I had on them in my universe was approximately five hundred miles from Duskwood, they will likely be some of the first to free themselves from the stasis. I do not believe I need to warn you that time is of the essence.

It seems as if I am a small distance ahead of you in the development of countermeasures, perhaps because I have had more linear time to develop them. If you are where I think you are at in the development, you likely have or will soon hit a bug you cannot pin down that makes the pinpointing mechanism simply refuse to work at all. Presuming your and my version of NYM-0S are similar enough, the issue should lie in the public bool set in line 132 of the third part of the targeting script, the script that decides what constitutes a target; you have it defaulted to "false" where it should default to "true".

As for additional countermeasures: I was attempting to work on a rudimentary automated system of pattern detection when I was brought here. Essentially, its function would be such that it would be able to triangulate using the locator features already installed to find a rough estimate of where their headquarters might be. However, I have not found any way thus far to eliminate outliers, and as such the feature is currently next to useless. I am no longer able to work on the code, but perhaps you will have more luck than I did.

That is all I can think of for the moment on that subject. However, I have an odd theory on what may be part of the reason we vary so. If you have a moment to spare, please answer me this:

When I was very young, back when Mother was still around, she took me to a doctor for odd behaviors. This included not looking people in the eyes, but there was a list. I was given a diagnosis; if you had the same experience, you should likely know which one.

Did you have this experience? If so, please prove it by stating what the diagnosis was.

Do not worry if you do not know what I am talking about; I would rather you did not guess. Simply state that you don't know. It will confirm my theory.

Good luck with your pursuers.

—Jake

(The letter tucks itself in the paper clip with the others.)

#duskwood letter game #yuvon writes letters #duskwood #duskwood game #duskwood everbyte #duskwood jake #lis #this isn't precisely a puzzle #it's a genuine question on jake's end #you aren't expected to answer unless your jake is the same

2 notes · View notes

taltos-seidmadr · 5 years ago

Text

On spirit communication

(art by galactic-castle)

Before I really start making my point, please allow me to make a short prologue about where I’m coming from and why I’m writing this post.

I’m a Heathen, in terms of religion, and in my practice I do some things that can be construed as “spirit work” according to the understanding of the greater community, but I don’t really consider myself to be a part of that community, and I’m pretty much off doing my own thing that is closer to my understanding of my own culture and/or Heathen traditions rather than what I see circulating on the internet most often. There are two reasons why I wanted to bring this up. One, I don’t feel myself qualified to give advice on anything and this might end up the only advice post I ever write, especially regarding this topic. And two, I apologize for occasionally using some terms that might be more specific to me than the actual jargon of the wider spiritworking community, because I’m not in it, but I hope it will be understandable regardless.

One of my spirit worker friends approached me with an issue they were having. It made me realize what a huge underlying issue it is, and it is indeed one that I also used to have, so I told my friend what I did to resolve it - and after their encouragement to do so, I’m telling you all now hoping that it may help some. I think to some degree it can apply both to the spiritworking community and to those pagans who keep in contact with their deities in some sort of way that involves trance work and/or resembles verbal communication. I obviously have no idea whether it’s applicable to every practice or not, so take it with a pinch of salt, but Hungarians have a pretty insightful and witty folk tale about the importance of a pinch of salt in the right place and the right time, so pretend that I made a reference to that and hear me out.

I want you to imagine the following situation:

You are a beginner practicioner of whatever you are doing. You start talking to some spirits, establish relationships with them, and maybe even start making friends. (While I do believe that a god is a type of spirit, right now I’m just including deities in the category of “spirits“ for the sake of convenience, and just know that the overall advice is still applicable if you don’t believe the same.) But real life also demands your time and energy, and so do real life people, so you begin to pay just a little bit less attention to your spirit fam than you would like. And then you maybe spend a little too much time on the hellsite dot com, and you read a post about how if you don’t actually pay enough attention to your spirit fam, then you are one of Those™ spiritworkers, which is Bad. And you barely even notice it, but somewhere in the back of your mind you start feeling guilty. Then the little behavioral psychology mouse that lives in your brain learns that talking to spirit family=electric shock, and thus you start avoiding your spirit fam even more, and you feel even more guilty, and so the cycle keeps continuing with increasing returns (on the guilt, or diminishing ones on the communication end).

My friend was there. I’ve been there. A lot of us have been there, probably. Maybe you didn’t even have to imagine this scenario because this is exactly where you are at.

And this entire guilt-avoidance cycle (just according to my unofficial armchair observation) goes back to an idea that nobody really says out loud but everyone seems to imply, which says the following:

“You should spend exactly as much time and energy on spirit relationships as you would on human relationships”

and I’m not even going to argue outright with this statement, because in some ways I kinda agree, but this post is already taking me 84 years to write so just allow me to cut to the chase and lampshade something that I don’t agree with.

This statement seems really wise and unassuming... until I remember that in order to spend time and make meaningful interaction with a spirit on that side, I need to tune in.

This is the point where I feel a bit on shaky grounds because I don’t have much to go off of other than my own practice, but maybe some of this will sound familiar. Take this from someone who has just never been completely tuned out probably since birth, that in order to tune in in a truly meaningful way, I still have to expend a LOT of energy, and I’m not even talking about anything magical here, I mean the completely everyday mental energy that I have a limited amount of at any given point. What this means in effect is that if I wanted to treat my spirit relationships exactly the same way as I do my human relationships, I would have to spend about half my life in a highly concentrated trance state, which is

a) probably impossible, b) even if it were possible, it would probaby serve as a serious detriment to my ability to navigate the real world, not to mention the active harm it would do to my physical and mental health on the long run.

You need to keep in mind that regardless for your metaphysical beliefs, you are a physical being and you have an extremely important responsibility to take care of your physical manifestation. And keeping this in mind, instead of allowing myself to run the guilt-avoidance cycle like a hamster runs a wheel, I could do two things that lead to healthier results:

1. Make a healthy, honest and realistic assessment of what you can actually manage

For me it’s kind of a go to, that no matter how little time or energy I had during the day, and no matter how stressed/anxious/whatever I feel at the end of the day, I pretty much always can do at least a little bit of trance before I fall asleep, when I can have a little contact with the spirit family, and it actually helps me fall asleep too, so it’s kind of a win-win-win. I’m bringing this up because I don’t have the scientific receipts on the matter but I’ve heard that something about the state of the mind when it’s getting into and out of sleep is special and that makes trancing easier. Don’t quote me on it, but I’ve experienced that to be true.

2. Involve your spirit family in ways of communication that either don’t involve trance at all, or don’t require tuning in fully

As for the first half, the most straightforward example that comes to mind is divination, or literally any sort of randomized thing that you could use to communicate. The second half is a little bit harder to explain but I will try to give my own personal example.

I want you to imagine a spirit phone. This is metaphorical right now but visually speaking, I really want you to imagine an actual phone, the object. For fun. It has a screen you can read texts on. You don’t even have to imagine it very hard or in great detail, you exactly know what a phone looks like. There are many days when I cannot hold an entire environment in my mind’s eye in great detail, but there is no time when I wouldn’t be able to put so much energy in that I wouldn’t know what is written on an imaginary screen as text. Of course communication like this is a bit limited, but this way you can text your spirit fam any time you want. If you are saying rn, but Sithi, that is the stupidest fucking idea I ever heard, texting my gods?! This is too modern for me! then you need to understand that the point is not whether this is an actual phone you are holding, but the limitation through which you channel the finite amount of mental energy that you have. The point is the focus. That you are only imagining so much that actually carries information value. If you want, imagine a word wall from Skyrim, a magical book, a burning forest floor on which you scrape your message into the smoldering ashes with a holy stick, I don’t know man. Use your imagination. Come up with something that fits into your inner world and makes you happy. Similarly if visualization is not your strongest suit, just work out something that builds on your strengths instead. (Funny thing about the phone is that it’s very good for making voice calls too! Hmm? Hmmmmm? Wink wonk!)

Just keep in mind that just because you cannot do everything that you planned or can even think about, it doesn’t make you somehow inferior or less than a human. It can be good to stretch your limits, to an extent, but knowing where those limits are in the first place is probably THE most important thing you can do for yourself in your spiritual practice (or in anything for that matter) and it’s a piece of knowledge that will make your relationships healthier and easier, no matter what layer of reality you are on. That was pretty much my hot take and I hope this will help you let go of some unrealistically high standards and be a little bit easier on yourselves, because we all need that a lot. Especially right now. 🔥👁️‍🗨️✨

#spirit work #spirit communication #spiritworkings #sithi's posts #text #spooky tips

54 notes · View notes

finalcreacher · 5 years ago

Text

Chapter One - Invisible Hearts

Hello, Cloud here! Excited to welcome you to the first ever chapter of “Invisible Hearts”. There are no major triggers in this chapter, but things get very dark very quick, so please make sure to read the T/W when used.

This is also posted on AO3, Quotev, FanFiction.net, and Wattpad.

Just ask if you want to be added to the tag list. :)

Word Count: 1,155

(Y/n) was used to it by now, after 15 years of living. Used to the empty chair at the dining table, to the wavering sadness of their siblings, to the empty hole inside their chest. It had been two years since Five disappeared, and Vanya still left peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches at the bottom of the stairs, awaiting his return. Diego was still a stuttering little bastard, and part of (Y/n) thought that it had gotten worse over the years(though in actuality, it had probably stayed the same, or had been better as of recent). Not that (Y/n) had concerned themselves with the status of their brother's stutter. It was merely one of those things that happened, they were used to it by now. It was almost comforting to be held in his arms on those late nights, and hear the soft slur of "I"s in the word "it."

It wasn't just the annoying ticks of their brother that held them comforted, but Klaus, and the constant loudness that he exuberated, and the underlying sadness in his words. Klaus was a reminder for (Y/n). For what, they never quite share, but something about him kept (Y/n) feeling warm at night. There, of course, was also their sibling Ben, as well as the other two previously mentioned brothers, Diego and Klaus. Ben was a quiet one, he didn't ask too much for or from anyone, he kept most of his thoughts to himself. Strangely enough, they enjoyed talking with Ben most of all between the three.

Though those days were few and far between, as they spent most of their time lying alone in their bedroom, trying to pinpoint how their powers worked. Often falling asleep crying, and waking up invisible. Klaus would tease them about it, and Reginald would be very disappointed. Reginald, their supposed father(though they weren't allowed to call him as such), would lecture them the morning they wake up, in front of all of their siblings during breakfast. And after eating, he'd practice with them till the point of exhaustion, sending them to their room when they were unable to turn back. When they were able to turn back, they'd go through it again, in an attempt to turn invisible. They'd be sent to their room.

Five's disappearance had shaken their odd family, to particular points where (Y/n) either thought things would never be the same again, or that it was better without him. (Y/n) only ever voiced the first concern, afraid the second one would earn an exceptional bond with their siblings that they did not wish to obtain. Though no one was very much concerned or saddened after Five leaving, many things had changed due to him going. Their family would never be the same again.

Much of the sadness (Y/n) had felt towards their dear brother Five, was not the fact they had missed him, but more so that part of their family would most certainly never return. It was that feeling again that their family had served as some sort of comfort blanket, and Five leaving had torn a massive rip in it. Anyone could have left, and the same thing would have happened. Indeed, that's what they thought, though later in their life it would appear that it was much untrue. They were never exceptionally close with Five, and that was all.

They were close to Ben.

Very, very close.

Ben's death had never fully clicked in (Y/n)'s head. They cried more for a sibling they never cared too much about than the loss of the most comforting soul in their life. Not once in the months he'd been dead, had their powers flicker them out of view. It was rare for this to happen, as it never happened. Their siblings also found this strange, as they still mourned the loss, and (Y/n) was cheery than ever. Some thought, briefly, that maybe (Y/n) had been the one to kill Ben.

Any flickering suspicions were waved off just as soon as they appeared when their first mission came around. It had been the first since the accident. They had been the first one of the siblings to be ready, the first one on the scene, and the first one to leave. They had turned invisible, stormed back home, and lay crying on the front porch, feeling too weak to go inside and face a house without him anymore. They had stayed in a state like this for months much longer than their previous feelings of happiness.

(Y/n) has since then admitted to never thinking about Ben before then, most likely why they had broken down so severely.

Present times were not much better, and perhaps worse than they were in previous years. The current year was 2006, (Y/n), along with their remaining siblings, are 17 years old. (Y/n) has spent the last year or two of their life perfecting their invisibility powers. Though perfecting seems to be an extreme and incorrect term to what they did achieve. If someone had said they perfected their ability, Reginald might laugh. Which would be absurd, as Reginald did not laugh, he's a solemn man.

(Y/n) had merely figured out why their powers were so finicky. They had never learned how to stop them from being so, or how to properly use them. Their abilities were still as useless as they had been before.

Klaus has spent the last two years of his life preparing for moving out, by being more drugged up, and high out of his life, as he's ever been. At this point, the family should be worried, but everyone is too wrapped up in their own silly world to notice any one other person's pain.

Diego's stutter had long since left, only coming back when he was angry.

Through the years, Vanya left the sandwiches at the bottom of the stairs less frequently as she had before, losing hope, and falling away further from any leftover bonds with her siblings.

Luther had miraculously grown closer to (Y/n), and with some strange, mysterious force, grew apart from Allison. Allison had big dreams, she was going to get out of this house, and she was going to become a star. (Y/n) didn't doubt it, but didn't see much of a future for any number of the unordinary siblings. Especially for someone that could get it all merely by speaking. They didn't admire their sister at all but could tell they'd be going somewhere a lot further than themselves. At least Allison had plans.

It didn't matter for now though, Allison wouldn't be leaving until she was at least eighteen. No one would be gone for at least another year. (Y/n) could only stomach the idea for so long, and had no choice to bend to the will of their emotions, flickering in and out, waiting for at least one sign to take them out of the hell of life.

#the umbrella academy #tua #Multi-Chapter #multi-chapter fic #reader x character #reader x various #x reader #tua reader insert #number eight reader #reader insert #reader insert fic #fanfiction #reader insert fanfiction #eventual romance #slow burn #read tags for warnings #Klaus Hargreeves x reader #Luther Hargreeves x reader #Diego Hargreeves x reader

35 notes · View notes

cinema-tv-etc · 4 years ago

Photo

TV Show Review: The Queen’s Gambit

🎬 It’s More Than Just Chess

The Queen’s Gambit tells the story of Beth. A nine year-old orphan who is quiet, sullen, and by all appearances unremarkable. That is, until she plays her first game of chess. Her senses grow sharper, her thinking clearer, and for the first time in her life she feels herself fully in control. By the age of sixteen, she’s competing for the U.S. Open championship. But as Beth hones her skills on the professional circuit, the stakes get higher, her isolation grows more frightening, and the thought of escape becomes all the more tempting.

A Sneak Peek Into “The Queen’s Gambit”

At the age of nine, Beth Harmon is all alone. Her mother had just died in a car accident and she is now an orphan. It’s not like she had a very close relationship with her mother, it was the opposite actually. Ever since she was little, Beth has always been a quiet kid. No matter how much her mother yelled or screamed or panicked, Beth would always just calmly stare and said nothing.

Even on the day she was brought to the orphanage, she didn’t shed a tear. One would suppose, in a way, Beth has gotten used to being alone and maybe even prefer her own company to anyone else’s. In the orphanage, kids were given 2 pills every day. One red pill, and one green pill. The red pills were said to be vitamins, to keep the kids strong and healthy. The green pills, on the other hand, were called Xanzolam, which are usually prescribed for women with anxiety and insomnia. In the orphanage, it was given to the kids as tranquilizers to keep them calm and sedated.

She didn’t really care for the green pills until one day when she was in the basement where she stumbled onto a janitor called Mr. Shaibel playing chess all by himself. The sleek design of the board as well as all the pieces fascinated her, and she asked for him to teach her how to play. Upon hearing that, Mr. Shaibel’s reply to her was, “Girls don’t play chess.”

Beth was upset. She has never been this fascinated with something before, and yet now that her attention has been captured by the game of chess, Mr. Shaibel refused to teach her. Despite the refusal, however, Beth did not give up easily. She watched Mr. Shaibel’s gameplay, read books to grasp a deeper understanding of how chess works. And at night––this is where the green pill comes in handy––she would pop in a green pill and the chess pieces would start appearing on the ceiling as if they were magic.

And thus, she practiced in her head.

After a few nights of this and Beth’s persistence in wanting to learn chess, Mr. Shaibel eventually caved and decided to mentor her. To his surprise, Beth––for a girl who has never played chess ever before––held up quite well against himself. Mr. Shaibel was sure that she had never played this game before, but yet, she was able to play so well. So he asked her, “How did you know how to play chess?”

“I practiced, in my head.” Was Beth’s nonchalant reply.

This continued for a while, Beth would finish her school work and tests early, then she would go down to the basement to practice chess with Mr. Shaibel. It took her a while, but eventually, Mr. Shaibel who started off as her mentor wasn’t even able to beat her anymore. Mr. Shaibel surprised by her abilities, so much so that he invited a high school chess teacher to try to beat her. And even then, Beth effortlessly beat him without much thought.

As her obsession with chess grew, her dependence on the green pill did as well. Before when Beth would just take one green pill a day, now she would save up a few days worth of green pills and down them all at once. These days, she could no longer function without it. The green pills are the only way she was able to imagine the chessboard on the ceiling and practice in her head while everyone was asleep. Beth has become addicted to Xanzolam despite all the warnings that her friend gave her about the green pill.

And just when Beth was spearing through her young life getting better and better in chess, the state passes a law forbidding giving tranquilizers to children. Upon hearing that, Beth’s whole world comes crashing down.

What is she going to do now without those magical green pills?

3 Words to Describe This Show

BRILLIANT, GRIPPING, UNIQUE

Review

Ever since I subscribed to Netflix, I have watched so many more shows than I ever would otherwise. From the good ones to the mediocre ones and to the great ones. I mean, I can’t say that I’ve already watched all the shows there is on Netflix––because your girl doesn’t have the eye power for that––but I can say that I have binged a good handful of them and to be really, truly honest, The Queen’s Gambit is pretty up there when it comes to great shows.

Actually, I would even go as far as to say that The Queen’s Gambit might just be the best tv show that I’ve watched in 2020. From the cinematography to the actress and the aesthetic, everything was just so well done. Even now, a few weeks after I’ve finished bingeing it all in one go, I still sometimes go back just to stare at Anya Taylor Joy’s face. Honest to god that woman is absolutely gorgeous.

BETH HARMON AND SOMETHING ABOUT SMART GIRLS

This is something that just started developing in the past few years, but as I grow older, it feels like I am prioritizing more on brains than looks. 5 years ago I was all for that bad boy let-me-fix-you-but-i-wont-bring-you-home-to-momma type guys, but these days, it’s all the brains for me.

Maybe I am just evolving more and more into a zombie….

Me turning into a zombie aside (please love me still), while I was first pulled into the show because of Beth’s looks, it was her smarts that pulled me in and made me stay. There is something so endearing yet awe-inspiring about her way of moving through life. Despite the era that The Queen’s Gambit was set in, with chess being something that usually only men participate actively in, Beth knocked down all those stereotypes without batting an eye. What’s even cooler is that she wasn’t even trying to be a feminist or to stick one out for the girls.

Beth just loved chess, and she pursued it with all her might. It wasn’t that she was trying to show all those men that women can also play chess if she’d like, but it’s just she just didn’t care. Beth couldn’t understand why everyone was so surprised at the fact that she enjoyed and was good at playing chess. For her, it was just something that she loved and took great pride in. The way she looked at the world was for the most part very innocent, and something about that made me want to roll her up into a burrito and protect her forever.

IT’S MORE THAN JUST CHESS

A lot of people might be put off by the trailer, or by the synopsis when they see that this show is all about chess. Well, take it from someone who binged this show all in one go in a day: yes…and no.

Yes to the fact that The Queen’s Gambit is indeed a show about chess. However, it was also more than that. It tackles the topic of mental health, friendship, romantic relationships, addiction. Really, this show is deeper than what they show you in the trailer.

With Beth Harmon being a chess prodigy and whatnot it is understandable that there will be a lot of chess play going on, despite that, the show managed to make it in a way that it’s not boring nor repetitive. And this is coming from someone who detests chess from when she was little. I understand no chess whatsoever yet I have no problem following along with the storyline.

Trust me, The Queen’s Gambit is more than just chess.

DEPRESSION, LONELINESS, AND OTHER DRUGS

The Queen’s Gambit follows Beth from when she was nine years old through all her transitions into being an adult. Her despairs, her proudest moments, the people that come and goes. The viewers get to see all of that. Beth when she’s happy, Beth when she’s angry…her tears, her drunk, her crazy.

I love how Beth’s mental issues are depicted in The Queen’s Gambit. It’s like one of those people who seems to have it all on the outside, but on the inside, they were all broken in pieces. Maybe how Beth handled stress and how she always strives for nothing but perfection struck a chord in me, or maybe it was something else. I don’t really know for sure, all I know is that I really appreciate how they portrayed mental issues and drug addiction in this show.

While watching Beth go through all her mental breakdowns or her non-stop drinking blender, it never once struck me as something that is…odd. It was as if all of the emotions that she went through are all just part of life––of dealing with her emotions and growing up. It wasn’t portrayed as some sort of taboo, even among her friends. They sympathize with her, they were kind and understanding yet also firm with Beth. I don’t know, maybe this part of the review doesn’t make sense at all, but I just really appreciate that The Queen’s Gambit portrayed periods of depression or anxiety as something that people go through in life, instead of something that needs to be hospitalized. You feel me?

ROMANCE IS…KINDA IN THE AIR?

Another thing I love about The Queen’s Gambit: there is no pressure for Beth to date. Sure, she has pursuers who come to try their luck, and Beth herself also was attracted to some characters in the show, but there was never an underlying pressure from her stepmom or friends to push her to date. Which, thinking of when this show was set in––the year 1958––was quite surprising, at least for me.

While in this show Beth was never in a relationship for long, she never lacks male attention. Which makes sense given how gorgeous she is. However thinking how in the 50s and 60s where women are mainly housewives and listen to their husbands, it’s really refreshing to see Beth conquering the world one chess play at a time. Not only that, in the show, she became so well known for her ruthless chess play that men were intimidated by her. Which I can only imagine is not something you see often in the 50s and 60s.

Needless to say, The Queen’s Gambit’s takes on how Beth approaches sex and romantic relationship as a whole is very refreshing. Especially when you take the era into mind.

The Verdict

If you haven’t watched this The Queen’s Gambit, you have to. No, seriously, you need to. If you follow this blog long enough, you already know that your girl rarely ever get so gung-ho about tv shows. Books yes, every now and then. But tv shows? Almost never.

Ever since I finished watching The Queen’s Gambit, I have recommended it to nearly everyone I know that has ears attached to their heads. I seriously cannot recommend this show enough. Even if you don’t think you’ll enjoy it, just give it a 30-minute trial. If it didn’t catch your interest after that, you can drop it entirely. However, if you ended up bingeing it in under a day as I did, your girl expects a kiss on the cheek and a chocolate ice cream.

Not to mention, even if the show was just kind of bleh for you, wouldn’t you watch just for Anya Taylor’s doe eyes and gorgeous cheekbones? Because I damn well know I would. *wink*

https://literaturesandmovies.com/2020/11/06/tv-show-review-the-queens-gambit-its-more-than-just-chess/

🎬 🎥 🎞️ 📽️ 🎬 🎥 🎞️ 📸 📽️ 🎬

25 Things You Missed In Queen's Gambit

https://youtu.be/fDr0uKFkwpw

youtube

🎬 🎥 🎞️ 📽️ 🎬 🎥 🎞️ 📸 📽️ 🎬

Creating The Queen’s Gambit | Netflix

https://youtu.be/LzDhpEInMIg

youtube

Creating The Queen’s Gambit | Netflix

https://youtu.be/CDrieqwSdgI

youtube

🎬 🎥 🎞️ 📽️ 🎬 🎥 🎞️ 📸 📽️ 🎬

#Queen’s Gambit #TV Show Review #Netflix

3 notes · View notes

blackswaneuroparedux · 6 years ago

Text

La Grande Illusion: the collapse of the old order of European civilisation

Jean Renoir’s monumental 1937 cinematic masterpiece La Grand Illusion has always been a favourite of mine ever since my grandfather - a highly decorated military veteran himself - first brought the classic war film to my attention over a family Christmas.

It’s easy to gush about Renoir’s World War One classic. It won at the Venice Film Festival upon release and was the first foreign language film to be nominated for an Oscar - despite the novelty of seeing and hearing the British, French and German officers speaking their own native tongues. The critical reception and accolades aside, La Grand Illusion is simply an extraordinarily well-made film that makes a serious commentary on the condition of Europe and examines common values and decency under the stress of war - the ability in all of us to act with respect and warmth towards those with whom we share bonds stronger and deeper than national boundaries and political divisions.

The “grand illusion” of Jean Renoir’s great French film referred originally to the British author Norman Angell’s belief that the supposed financial advantage of war is a falsehood. For Renoir - himself a veteran of the World War One trenches - this illusion evolves into something more complex and various, and so does its tragic and ironic grandeur.

There are only two references to the title but both are pertinent. Once when a French soldier exclaims ‘what an illusion,’ when a comrade says that the war will be over before they have time to escape from military prison, and again when he describes the end of all wars as an illusion.

The legendary Eric Von Stroheim is Captain Von Rauffenstein, an aristocrat and German PoW camp commander in the first world war, ramrod-straight in a uniform with white gloves that conceal horrendous burns from when he was shot down in combat. He pursues an elaborately civilised policy of martial respect for his distinguished prisoner Captain de Boeldieu (Pierre Fresnay) - a suave French aristocrat in his own right. But Rauffenstein is archly disdainful of Boeldieu’s more plebeian comrades Rosenthal (Marcel Dalio) and the boisterous working class Maréchal, played with luminous masculinity by Jean Gabin.

What the Frenchman knows and the German won’t admit is that the new world belongs to commoners. It changed hands when the gentlemen of Europe declared war. And the “grand illusion” of Renoir’s title is the notion that the upper classes somehow stand above war. The German cannot believe that his prisoners, whom he treats almost as guests, would try to escape. After all, they have given their word not to.

"Neither you nor I can stop the march of time,” the captured French aristocrat Capt. de Boieldieu tells the German prison camp commandant, Von Rauffenstein. A little later, distracting the guards during an escape of others from the high-security German fortress, the Frenchman forces the German to shoot him, reluctantly, and they have a final deathbed exchange. `” didn’t know a bullet in the stomach hurt so much,” he tells the German. “I aimed at your legs,” says the German, near tears. And a little later he says: "For a commoner, dying in a war is a tragedy. But for you and I - it’s a good way out.”

For me one the things that hit me is how much the film underlies the separation of classes, which is the second major concern of the film. Indeed, the characters provide a microcosm of the European class system in the early twentieth century. It is interesting to note that not everyone in the film is limited by the barriers of his mother tongue. The two aristocratic officers, von Rauffenstein and de Boeldieu, as well as the scholar, Demolder, can speak or understand several languages other than their own. The Jewish officer, Rosenthal, who has relatives on both sides of the front, can speak German. With the possible exception of Rosenthal, however, the linguistic skills of these characters are ineffectual instruments of human understanding. The reasons are various and have mostly to do with class.

Demolder, the Greek professor, is the object of much ridicule. To the aristocrats he is never more than a subject of minor amusement. They ignore him, for instance, when he gawks like an undergraduate art history student at the Medieval fortress of Wintersborn, where they are being held prisoner. Even the middle class Marechal parodies him at one point, exclaiming that the castle is ``Fourteenth century,” to which Boeldieu replies wittily, “Pure Gothic.” Ironically, the scene was actually shot in a chateau built by Wilhelm II.

Demolder’s books, in which no one else is the least bit interested, disturb Boeldieu’s cards. Boeldieu remarks “coldly” that Demolder’s dictionaries are going to be in his way. Demolder is in the process of translating Pindar, whom he considers “the greatest of the Greek poets.” We are left in no doubt, however, that the undertaking will not be as momentous as Demolder would like to think. Rauffenstein’s contemptuous comment upon learning of Demolder’s activity is: “Poor old Pindar!”

Boeldieu says that Demolder has “the soul of a bird.” Although Demolder has a sentimental worship of books (he is incensed when the Russians set their books on fire) and studies a foreign language, his interests are ineffectual. The student of a “dead language,” he offers no help in bridging the language barrier between the French and Germans.

The aristocrats, Boeldieu and Rauffenstein, might effect such a bridge between the nationalities, but they are prevented from doing so by the duties and isolation of their class. They are separated from their fellow officers as much as anything by language.

Boeldieu, for instance, is isolated by a certain class dialect as well as what one might call his ideolect. Throughout the film, he speaks in a witty, formal, epigrammatic style typical of the aristocracy. At Hallbach, noticing the young German soldiers drilling while the prisoners of war prepare their play, he comments: “On one side, children playing at soldiers. On the other, soldiers playing at children.” The conversation at Wintersborn is distinguished by his witty banter with Rauffenstein. When the latter has finished showing his new prisoners around the fortress, Boeldieu remarks: “It was very pleasant of you, sir, to have shown us around your estate.” The other French officers cannot or are not allowed thus to “pull off” their attempts at wit. Marechal’s amusing joke about Maxim’s does not go over with Rauffenstein.

Boeldieu’s formal style leaves his fellows cool to him and indeed suspicious of his motives. Marechal himself, who must “explain” Boeldieu to the others, notes at one point that “he’s a good bloke, but you can’t let yourself go with him, you can’t feel free…. A different sort of education…. If ever you [Rosenthal] and I found ourselves in a bad spot, we’d just be a couple of poor down-and-outs, but him, he’d always be Monsieur de Boeldieu.”

Later in the film, when the bourgeois Marechal, aware of Boeldieu’s impending sacrifice, attempts a deeper level of friendliness, Boeldieu puts him off: “I’m not doing anything for you personally. That excuses us from the danger of getting emotional.” When Marechal questions Boeldieu’s continued use of the formal “vous” after eighteen months together, Boeldieu responds: “I say vous to my mother and my wife.”

Rauffenstein is similarly isolated from his fellow officers by class and language. His preferred languages seem to be French and English, and when he does speak German his voice takes on an unaccustomed and alien rasp. His junior officers are also of the middle class, and they consider him something of a lunatic for what is to them eccentric behavior. Rauffenstein’s careful cultivation of the geranium, “the only flower in the castle,” is ridiculed by his martinet of a junior officer, a former headmaster who claims to “know how to keep that gang of devils [the prisoners] in their place.” Interestingly, in the moving scene of Boeldieu’s death, Rauffenstein sacrifices this last “flower of the aristocracy.”

Boeldieu and Rauffenstein, isolated from their fellow officers, have the most in common with each other, but ultimately they are separated by something else they have in common: their patriotic duties as aristocratic career officers. Rauffenstein seems to regret this more than Boeldieu and is keener to maintain their priviledged intimacy. To effect this intimacy he makes continual use of the English language.

A language common to the aristocracy of Europe, English allows Rauffenstein to distinguish himself and Boeldieu from the others, in effect to talk over their heads. It becomes their special language. In the early banquet scene, Rauffenstein, recognizing Boeldieu’s name, presumes his knowledge of English. Sesonske has pointed out that “Rauffenstein switches from French to English without question or explanation, knowing that a `de Boeldieu’ will of course understand,” whereas “Marechal is surprised to find his German neighbor speaking French and seeks an explanation.”

In a later scene at Wintersborn, Rauffenstein shows off his twenty-five Maxim machine-guns to Boeldieu and the others. Marechal attempts to imitate Boeldieu’s witty style: “Why, of course, sir. Personally, I prefer the restaurant…” The response of the two aristocrats to this infringement on their stylistic territory is interesting. Boeldieu, at whose expense the joke is made, accepts it with a benign resignation, as a master does a pupil’s imitations: “Touché.”

Rauffenstein, on the other hand, will not condescend to the humor of an inferior. He shifts immediately to English, talking as he knows over the heads of the others: “I used to know a pretty girl at Maxim’s… back in 1913. Her name was Fifi.” Boeldieu responds also in English: “So did I.”

Rauffenstein’s aristocratic snub recalls, as he likes to do, a nostalgic time before the war when aristocratic career officers did not have to accept middle class “officers” such as Marechal and Rosenthal as in any sense their equals.

Both Rauffenstein and Boeldieu know, however, that the old European aristocrats, along with the peculiar form of international understanding they possessed, are a dying breed, cut off from their own lower classes and no longer in control of events. In a private conversation in Rauffenstein’s quarters, again punctuated with English phrases, they discuss this situation candidly.

Rauffenstein admits his distaste for his present position as commandant. “I was a fighting man and, now, I am a bureaucrat, a policeman. It is the only way left for me to try and serve my country.” When Boeldieu asks him why he made an exception in inviting him to his quarters, Rauffenstein responds disdainfully: “You call Marechal and Rosenthal… officers?” Whatever else the war brings, “it will be the end of the Rauffensteins and the Boeldieus.”

To Rauffenstein, such middle class soldiers are “the charming legacy of the French Revolution.” Boeldieu comments that “perhaps there is no more need for us.” Rauffenstein immediately asks: “And don’t you find that is a pity?” Boeldieu responds, less certainly: “Perhaps.” Boeldieu’s scepticism suggests that if there is to be a solution to the problem of lack of international understanding, it will not come from an international aristocracy with an exclusive language.

Indeed, this point is dramatised in the final exchange of English between the two men. When Boeldieu devises a plan of escape for Marechal and Rosenthal, he reserves for himself the role of creating a diversion. While all the prisoners except Marechal and Rosenthal assemble for a general roll call, Boeldieu climbs the watch-tower and plays the tune, “Petit Navire,” on a flute (an instrument he claimed earlier to have hated). He distracts the Germans long enough for his middle class comrades to effect their escape. When Rauffenstein learns of Boeldieu’s dangerous escapade, he makes a final personal appeal to Boeldieu to surrender. Interestingly, the appeal is in English, unintelligible to his own men and the various prisoners.

Rauffenstein in English: Boeldieu, have you really gone insane? Boeldieu in English: I’m perfectly sane. Rauffenstein in English: Boeldieu, you understand that if you do not obey at once and come down, I shall have to shoot…. I dread to do that. I beg you… man to man, come back. Boeldieu in English: It’s damn nice of you, Rauffenstein, but it’s impossible.

At this point, Rauffenstein is forced to shoot Boeldieu, and only afterward learns that Marechal and Rosenthal have escaped. To himself in English (in a language he can now use only with himself) he mutters, “so that is why,” and suddenly shifting to a harsh German, orders the dogs called out to search for the escapees. In the end, the mutual intelligibility of the aristocrats is overcome by their intense sense of divergent duties. As Boeldieu comments on his deathbed when Rauffenstein begs his forgiveness, “I would have done the same thing. French or German… duty is duty.” However moving the scenes with the two aristocrats may be, thay cannot offer a solution to the problem of human understanding that the film poses. They represent rather a dead end.

If there is to be such a solution, Renoir seems to tell us, it must come from the middle class, from the Marechals and Rosenthals and Elsas of Europe. Accordingly, these characters dominate the film’s final scenes.

La Grand Illusion’s most basic contributions to cinema include a series of well-followed tropes used in later prison escape films. Hiding their escape hole under floorboards beneath a bunk, the men tie a rope to a single mole digging the passage deeper. Air flows to him through a tube of cans, and a string attaches to a warning tin that he pulls to sound his readiness for relief. The excess earth is stored in small bags and emptied from under their pants during their faux gardening activities. Later escape-centric films such as Frank Darabont’s The Shawshank Redemption (1994), John Sturges’ The Great Escape (1963), and Le Trou (1960) by Jacques Becker (himself the assistant director on Grand Illusion) replicate aspects of the escape procedure established in Renoir’s film.

In originating tropes of a war or escape movie it was careful to avoid cliches of its own. La Grand Illusion features no “war is Hell” scenes of grisly trench warfare that convey the chaotic bloody truth of battle. Neither melodrama nor jingoism have roles in Renoir’s narrative. He even carefully resists all clichés about patriotism, as well as clichés regarding his own pacifist aims. Avoiding strong subjective illustrations, Renoir’s film remains politically impartial, even while he makes humanist indictments and remains a jealous disciple of his homeland.

It’s not then a movie about a prison escape. It dwells on the conflicts among men. The prison camps show the entire national community in a bubble. Ideas such as nationalism, class, and race create the conflict between the prisoners; however, at the same time, they bring people together.

It’s also a meditation on the collapse of the old order of European civilisation. Perhaps that was always a sentimental upper class illusion, the notion that gentlemen on both sides of the lines subscribed to the same honourable code of behaviour. Whatever it was, it died in the trenches of World War One. The idea that wars can be fought according to gentlemanly rules is an illusion – like the belief that the 1914-1918 conflict was the war to end all wars. As Plato said at the beginning of the birth pangs of European civlisation, ‘only the dead have seen the end of war’.

#la grande illusion #film #cinema #french #jean renoir #renoir #art #aesthetics #war #world war one #europe

93 notes · View notes

angerissue · 5 years ago

Photo

@ofmusingsxandmayhem asked... 2, 6, 12, 15, 23 (mental health headcanons) From this headcanon meme. Open to everyone.

2. Does anyone in your muse’s family experience mental illness?

Yes. The most obvious example is Brian Banner, who is Bruce’s biological father. On the surface, he suffers from alcoholism and severe anger management issues, which manifested in the form of abuse towards Bruce and Rebecca in the earliest part of Bruce's life. Knowing how Brian behaved towards his family, and knowing he himself had been abused as a child, with his two siblings, it’s possible that he suffers from Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD). He checks most of the boxes for it, including the following.

The first criteria is a fear of abandonment, and a feeling that someone doesn't exist to others. This was evident in how Brian became jealous of Bruce, and the amount of time Rebecca would spend with him after he was born. Brian would always claim that he was being cast aside in favour of Bruce, and say that their life was better before Bruce came along, citing their son as someone who was "tearing the family apart" and "preventing them from spending time together" (and by "them", Brian meant himself and Rebecca, because in his eyes, Bruce wasn’t a real part of the family). A lot of his claims were very sensationalized, which indicated just how invisible Brian felt in relation to Rebecca and Bruce.

The second criteria for BPD is extreme swings in emotion, which often involve anger. Brian demonstrated this on multiple occasions, physically abusing both Bruce and Rebecca for harmless actions on their part; on one occasion, he even sent Bruce to the hospital for stitches because he saw him doing something that angered him, and he couldn’t help but react violently. But BPD-related emotional swings can also involve intense feelings of shame, sorrow, and sadness, and this was potentially the reason for Brian’s dependence on alcohol — he was evidently struggling with underlying emotions that he couldn’t exorcise by himself, and he needed alcohol to cope.

The third criteria for BPD involves paranoia, and disruptive patterns of thinking. This is relevant to Brian because he believed that something was wrong with both Bruce and himself, on a genetic level, because of an accident that happened long ago. These beliefs were unfounded, but they became impossible for Brian to stop worrying about. In consequence, he felt the need to persecute Bruce on a regular basis for an entirely fabricated flaw.

Aside from this, Bruce’s relatives have decent mental health. Most of the issues in his family stem from Brian’s side.

6. What is the longest your muse has gone without sleep?

Weeks. Bruce doesn’t need to sleep if he stays in a transformed state, and there are verses where he remains like that for months on end — particularly in “Blood Sky” and “The Persistence”, where he becomes obsessed with making up for lost time and completing as much scientific work as possible. During this time, Bruce spends his nights working on projects instead of sleeping. Someone could argue that it's impossible for someone to spend all this time in a productive way, since they'll eventually grow bored or run out of things to do. But they underestimate Bruce's ability to get sucked into his work and lose track of time, not to mention he has a ridiculous amount of ideas to realize.

Bruce's normal form, however, can't go that long without sleeping. His longest stretch happened in the first few months after the accident, when his condition was brand new and he didn't know much about it. At this time, he harboured an irrational fear that the "other guy" could potentially assume control of his body if he fell asleep — he believed that if he fell unconscious, he might not have woken up again, and the "other guy" would have free rein. These days, he understands there isn't really an "other guy" (at least not inherent to his condition), but back then, his lack of knowledge and the resulting fear meant he could easily spend two or three days without sleep. This happened on more than a few occasions. However, he seldom went longer than 72 hours, because he would either crash or force himself to sleep. He knew that Ross was looking for him, and it was difficult to maintain his awareness if he was running on fumes.

12. Does your muse ever experience a lack of interest in things that they usually enjoy?

Yes. Bruce experiences depressive episodes from time to time, on account of his Major Depressive Disorder (MDD). When this happens, he loses his appetite and doesn’t have too much energy, both from a mental and physical standpoint. This can make it difficult for him to exercise, whether it involves hiking or yoga, and he doesn’t feel driven to cook, maintain his living space, and pursue his hobbies like reading and fishing.

These episodes also affect his work. If he’s in a slump, he won’t feel as passionate about it or enjoy it as much.

However, even if he's feeling down and doesn't have much energy, Bruce tries to continue his scientific work unless he's completely incapable of doing so. He'll be easily drained in these situations, and he doesn't enjoy it because of how arduous it feels, but he would rather continue working than stop entirely. This is because if he stops, he would feel like he's stagnating and otherwise not making progress, which would make things worse. When he was a child, Brian always told him that he would never amount to anything, and he's internalized this belief so much that he constantly wants to prove him wrong now; he always needs to keep going and working, even if his mind and body are putting up a fight. He wouldn't be able to articulate Brian's criticisms as the reason for his consistent work, but it remains nonetheless, and it drives him to keep pushing himself even if he should take it easy.

At times like this, if someone approached him in the lab, he would likely respond with hostility. Because he's already functioning on such low energy, Bruce wants to use that energy to work on his scientific ventures rather than conversing with other people. He usually can't have both at times like these, so asking otherwise will cause him to become snippy. Someone may perceive these moments as an indication that Bruce has some kind of personal beef with them, but that's never the case; he's just trying to keep his head above water. Once he crawls out of his funk, he'll be more sociable and receptive to discussing his work again.

15. What does your muse feel most guilty about?

Bruce could wax lyrical about the incidents with the Hulk, Ultron, Sokovia, and Lagos, but his most genuine feelings of guilt come from his existence in general. He’s repressed most of his childhood, but he does remember his father accusing him of being a disruptive presence in the Banner household, and being a monster — Brian had claimed that if he weren’t around and he never existed, things would be perfectly fine for him and Rebecca, calling into question the validity of Bruce's birth from an early age. He remembers being blamed for the death of his mother as well. This sentiment stuck with him throughout school and his adult life, long before the Hulk was born, and it became a sort of filter that coloured his waking hours.

Even now, Bruce is constantly questioning his right to remain in the world. He continues to believe that he was responsible for Rebecca's death, in addition to everyone who's been killed by his condition, even if he was, truthfully, entrapped and forced into reacting violently by Ross. All of the other incidents, like Ultron or Lagos, are icing on top of the cake. From his perspective, these are all symptoms that are caused by his existing and making decisions, most of which have caused some kind of catastrophe, which implies there’s something inherently wrong with him. And he feels guilty; even selfish, for continuing to take chances on things if he knows they'll seldom work out.

There are indeed moments when he feels like he really belongs; this most notably occurred in the early years of his career, because there was a span of years where nothing awful happened and he was on an uphill trajectory. But ultimately, there are too many incidents that call into question whether he deserves to be around. This will continue unless he seeks professional help, learning to separate himself from his internalized emotions and not see himself merely as someone defective and destructive.

23. What are your muse’s coping mechanisms? Are they healthy?

He’s a mixed bag when it comes to coping mechanisms.

If Bruce is upset about something and needs to blow off steam, he usually turns to aerobic exercises like running and hiking to ease some of his emotional vigour. Putting some distance between himself and other people, like going on a day trip or spending some time as the Hulk in a remote location (which is a more common venture than people think), is a possibility as well. Meditation can come in useful too.

But while these activities help address the physical symptoms of his stress, they seldom address the underlying issues. In most circumstances, he needs to talk to someone in order to achieve catharsis, and stop things from bothering him in the future.

And this is where things usually fall apart.

For starters, he won't usually approach someone if something is bothering him. Subconsciously, he feels that if he shares too much information about himself, it could somehow be abused or otherwise used against him. This fear exists even if he knows someone very well, because it's not rational. It just is. Additionally, over the years, he’s had little opportunity to speak with other people about his issues, because he’s been alone for most of that time. It’s simply not a habit he’s ever gotten into.

And if he does speak with someone, there are obstacles to overcome. He suffers from alexithymia, which means he has trouble understanding what he's feeling at a given moment, and articulating it in a clear and concise manner (aside from the emotions that are easy to identify, like anger). This makes it difficult to determine his core/base emotions and explain them to others. Oftentimes, he won't provide enough information and he'll fail to explain what he, himself, is experiencing in a given situation. Because of this, Banner often ends up giving non-answers, even if he believes he's being transparent with someone, so they will need to perform mental gymnastics and interpolations in order to understand what he's saying. If this fails and Bruce cannot explain himself, he’ll become frustrated and end the discussion on a sour note.

Bruce's inability to communicate means that once he stops the more immediate and acute symptoms of an issue, he usually doesn't have a choice but to ignore it until his mind represses it completely. Once that happens, it usually won't bother him on a conscious level anymore, but it can certainly come back to haunt him at a later date. It can also easily bubble up when he’s the Hulk, because being in that form tends to negate his repressions (which is partially why the Hulk is always so irritable). Moreover, while avoidance can be good for Bruce in the short-term, it ultimately does more harm than good.

Bruce also practices avoidance when it comes to social interactions. He needs to be dragged to Avengers galas, and even going out with his teammates for coffee requires him to be in the proper "mindset". He's a quiet and introverted person by nature, but some of these tendencies come from his PTSD, and a persistent fear that the more people he’s around, the higher the chance that something bad will happen to him. People in general tend to make him uncomfortable, even subtly, because of the abuse in his childhood and other traumatic events. It’s not that he's consciously thinking, “uh oh, there’s a person”, but he simply finds it difficult to let his guard down. There’s always a subtle flight-or-fight response happening with him, because over the years, his sympathetic nervous system has learned to always keep itself on, in case of trouble.

As mentioned a few paragraphs earlier, Bruce also tends to blame himself for situations rather than looking at them objectively. While this can help him feel a semblance of control over a situation, because it implies he was the sole person responsible for the outcome, it's a double-edged sword because there are many, many times where Bruce has blamed himself much too harshly, and it became all too unconstructive. This is because most of his self-blame is simply the result of internalized emotional abuse from Brian. Effectively, if Bruce puts all the blame on himself and doesn’t even consider other possibilities, he’s continuing a cycle that Brian perpetrated in his youth.

All in all, Bruce has far more unhealthy coping mechanisms than healthy ones. He has a lot of unresolved baggage because of it.

#( meme response. )#( answered. )#( headcanon. )#( multiple. )#ofmusingsxandmayhem #bpd cw #these were fun to answer. thanks again pluto!

2 notes · View notes